#dexter hale

[hedwig221b]

omg qween goddess supreme hedwig221b can you please, pretty please rec me some regency and/or historical sterek 🥹

hoping you have a good day/night (idk your timezone lol)

Hi, love! You know me so well... historical aus, my beloved 💜

When All the Pieces Fit by NARKOTIKA

"Does he even realize? With the cooking and cleaning andandand—now this fucking baby?" Isaac fumes. Said baby waves its fist in the air, and Stiles bends to haul him onto a hip. The baby babbles something and Stiles nods his head with complete seriousness, as if everything out of its mouth is perfectly sensible and coherent. Then the kid starts mouthing at Stiles' nipple through his dress and everyone goes dead silent. "I'm going to wife him so hard," Ethan announces, and they all break out into argument over who has the best chance at mating the boy in the river.

Elskende by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Stiles is an omega concubine, kept sequestered away in the city of Beacon Hills, waiting for his lord Gerard Argent when the Wulver take the city and the alpha takes the omega.

Pride and Place by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Derek Hale, Earl of Osterbrook, has inherited, following the death of Lord Montfort, a run down house in Yorkshire he neither needs nor wants, convinced his staff are robbing him, and with the mystery of a missing ward, he manages to get himself talked into a ridiculous bet, that he cannot pass as a steward until Midwinter, nearly two months away. So can he maintain the charade? Find the missing child? and manage to turn the shambles of a house around, or will he give up and let Peter take the thousand pounds he bet.

A Princely Knight by Dexterous_Sinistrous

He would stand by Stiles’ side, a constant shadow of protection until his death. A life for a life, one worth much more than an orphan turned thief turned royal guard could comprehend. In truth, Derek saw the one person he would gladly give his life for, because Stiles made this world better. ~*~ Or, Stiles is a prince and Derek is his knight.

Meant to be One by sunhazeheart

His nerves felt like a live wire was running hot beneath his skin, hands fidgeting with the silken material of his robe. If he had the concentration to spare, he might had worried about tearing it. It was all he could do to sit there at the vanity, eyes squeezed shut, and try to give in the constricting pressure around his chest that said that he was about to fall into a panic attack. Breath in. Breath out. His own heartbeat rushed in his ears. Being mated to the reclusive king with a frightening reputation to his name, bundled away from his home and father, and then surrounded by underwhelmingly distant faces hiding secrets was not how Stiles Stilinski imagine spending his life soon after turning eighteen. He can only remind himself that it is for the good of his people, both old and newly acquired. But, perhaps first assumptions are made too hastily and a fated match can be made, even surrounded by threats of war, revenge and death’s waiting embrace.

The Wolf Lord by mikkimouse

"You never know," Lydia said. "Perhaps the Wolf Lord will ask you to dance tonight." Stiles scoffed. "Oh, yes, of course he will. And then he'll transform into a giant black wolf and whisk me away to his estate to live happily ever after." He rolled his eyes at the thought. "Actually, I rather hope he does ask me to dance. I can tell him how ridiculous these masquerades are."

To Whom The Wolf King Bows by MadcapRomantic

Stiles Stilinski meets The Wolf King, the very boogeyman he'd spent his younger years terrified of; yet the man is little, if anything, like the tales he's heard. But, Stiles has spent the last ten years of his life as a slave, under the harsh whip of the cruel King Gerard Argent, and trusting Derek - trusting anyone - is beyond difficult.

Where the Shadow Ends by Green

Derek goes undercover to Delphi to figure out what's wrong with the oracle. He doesn't mean to fall in love.

The Hills Call

Five years ago, Prince Derek of the Hale Empire had fallen for the son of a Baron, Genim of Stilinski. His mother had not approved, and after some time imprisoned Genim escaped to the Dukedom of the Shore, where he was taken in by Duke Christopher and Lady Allison. Now, Prince Derek is on his deathbed from a poisoning and it is up to Genim, now called Stiles, to nurse him back to health. Wary of the Hale Empire, Stiles returns with their young son to see if he can heal Derek of his illness and escape the threats he still feels from the Empress herself.

The Light in the Woods by DiscontentedWinter

To honour a treaty with the people of a strange land, Derek Hale, prince of the kingdom of Triskelion, has to marry Stiles.

I encourage you heavily to go through the works of Dexterous_Sinistrous and DarkAthena (seraphim_grace), these two are my crushes and I am in awe of their work, it's so good. I could genuinely sit here and list dozens of their fics - I already did list some of my most beloved fics of theirs...

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | possessive Derek | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse

[brightyor]

SHANNON I CANT WITH YOU

[barleyalive101]

I can’t believe the way the series ruined dexter’s character and erased his personality, I just read the first EAH book , damn he has personality, he isn’t just having a crush on raven , he’s nerdy , athletic, catapults cabbages for some reason , knows the library like the back of his hand , curious about his story , worried about it too cause he doesn’t have his entire life to prep for it like most ppl , actually interacts with raven enough to catch a crush .

Dexven in the books is soo superior, he’s the first royal to seek her out after legacy day , helps her in trying to see her story in the story book and she promises him to see his , helps her in finding the book about all the students , invites her and encourages the rebels to join the legacy day party , first person that approaches raven after she wears her legacy day fit , raven thinks about him and always describes him beautifully. I can’t wait to read the other eah books .

[cometblaster2070]

i find it unreasonably funny when people hc raven listening to like sad emo rock or smth like that (honestly tbh it's so valid), when raven canonically is a swiftie.

and what's even better is the fact that dexter is also a swiftie and i think they both canonically sing a bit of enchanted together.

[maybebitterxox]

Who I’d Cast For A Live Action Ever After High (purely based on looks)

[athena-xox]

How do you imagine ravens future to be? Like would she get married or not,run a music career,have kids,etc

Well in tlosh Raven says that she wants to become a storyteller which was kinda weird to me because raven never really showed any interest in that, besides rewriting her own destiny which is really just a fancy way of saying living.

And I thought that Shannon just decided that would be good symbolism/end the ravens character arc. Until I thought more about it. Like storytelling isn’t just ink and parchment.

So I think during her final years at eah her and melody create a musical duo with Melody (PLZ THEIR VOICES WOULD BLEND SO WELL TOGETHER) which eventually turned into a band that was kinda just recording different songs that (mostly) raven wrote and it was different ppl on each track

Some of the ppl I could see would be Cupid on lyre, Jillian on harp, Ashlynn flute, raven guitar / piano, Maddie and Lizzie on random wonderlandian instruments and melody on literary everything.

I don’t think all of those instruments would be in every song (those r just the characters who I think canonically know play those instruments) but yeah

And raven would be writing n recording songs all throughout eah and I think that she would become pretty famous

I think that her and dexter would stay together and eventually marry

I think that they wouldn’t try for kids but if raven got pregnant they would keep it.

I could see them adopting tho 

I think that every one fsr expected raven to change her last name to charming, but both raven and dex changed their last name to goodking

[aniovandoblog]

I just read (again) "The Book of Destiny" by Shannon Hale. And here we are clearly going to talk about Dexven. The first interaction of these two occurs at the Legacy Day rehearsals, where Dexter questions what his destiny is (as a generic prince he has various roles he can play) and Raven questions what would happen if he doesn't sign. After that Dexter approaches her, which surprises Raven. They talk about how strict the director. Raven tells him that it must be fun and mysterious not to know destiny and the boy tells him that it really is quite fruitful, because even though he doesn't know what it's preparing for him, he doesn't have any freedom either. Raven mentions that it would be interesting to see the big book before signing .Dex refuses because he doesn't want to get in trouble, but he helps her with the distraction. In another chapter Raven manages to open the book but can't see anything. She finds Dexter on a balcony singing a Taylor Swift song (her version of her in eah I can't remember her name). They are both fans of hers. They talk about music and romantic songs. Dexter comments that even though love songs aren't very manly, he really loves true love. Raven tells him that she didn't get to see destiny. The boy looks a little disappointed but tries to smile so as not to hurt her. Raven tells him about her sisters' book. And in fact, Raven thinks that she trusts him, she doesn't know why but she trusts. Dexter grabs her hand and leads her to the library. They look in the phone book, she finds the oldest person in Eah… .Dexter tells her that they can be friends. Raven is surprised but they decide to be friends. I mean at this point I don't feel like Dexter wasn't in love with Raven, just nice and friendly. We arrive at Legacy Day where Raven in her mother's outfit feels powerful, evil, she thinks of getting revenge on the boys who bothered her in the past. It's Dexter who makes her come to herself. They both wish each other luck. Raven goes on stage and one of the reasons she doesn't sign is because of Dexter, why she doesn't want to disappoint him. Raven rebels and everything we already know happens. All the royals are angry and Dexter is the only royal who is concerned and looks for her. When he finds her with her rebel friends (Hunter, Maddie, Cerise, Cedar) it seems strange that she is there looking for her, but it is Raven that Dex is a friend . They talk and he tells her that he admires her and that she really is a brave girl. At this point I think Dexter is starting to like Raven and Dex who insists that they should go to the party because royals or rebels have the right to go. There are many moments in which he is a bit lukewarm but most of it is due to the presence of his brother or some royal. But in this book, Dexter is someone who cares for Raven in such a genuine way. Obviously, if you're a Dexven fan, this is heaven, but if you're not, you can't deny that it's a great friendship.

[arlos-warm-drpepper]

I love media because it’s like. Okay thanks for these characters I’ll take them from here. What? You already made the plot? Pffft no thanks. I got it.

[sysig]

You learn to live with it, learn to love it if you can (Patreon)

[dragoneyes618]

I'd like to see more of cousin Charity Charming.

[grippedbydestielfever]

Kinktober 2024 Masterpost

So, I decided to try to trick my brain into a daily writing practice by doing kinktober for the first time. We'll see how this goes :)

The list will mostly focus on light/softcore kink, with some platonic kink mixed in. If anyone wants to use any of the prompts for their own lists, that's good with me.

Stories will be posted on AO3, and I will link each story below:

Fandom and pairings that I will draw from, in no particular order:

Leonard McCoy/Spock (Stark Trek: TOS), Jack Aubrey/Stephen Maturin (Aubreyad), Yoshii Toranaga/John Blackthorne (Shogun 2024), Richard Sharpe/Arthur Wellesley (Sharpe TV), Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo (MCU), Daemon/Rhaenyra (HOTD), Daemon/Rhaenys/Corlys (HOTD), Thomas Barrow/Guy Dexter (Downton Abbey), Hugh Beringar & Cadfael (Cadfael TV), Chris Argent/Derek Hale (Teen Wolf), Max Bankman/Avery Morgan/Tristan Silva (Doctor Odyssey)

Prompts are listed below:

One--Handfeeding--Bucky/Zemo

Two--Touching Foreheads--Bucky/Zemo

Three--Kissing Knuckles--Yoshii Toranaga/John Blackthorne

Four--Praise Kink--Zemo/Bucky

Five--Knots/Ropes

Six--Temperature Play

Seven--Subspace/Subdrop

Eight--Aftercare

Nine--Maintenance Spanking

Ten--Touch-Starved

Eleven--Safeword

Twelve--Handcuffs

Thirteen--Bloodplay

Fourteen--Brat Taming

Fifteen--Punishments

Sixteen--Blindfold

Seventeen--Collars/Collaring

Eighteen--Hair Stroking

Nineteen--Marking/Biting

Twenty--Poly Negotiations

Twenty-One--Threesome

Twenty-Two--Kink Negotiations

Twenty-Three--Competence Kink

Twenty-Four--Contracts

Twenty-Five--Leather

Twenty-Six--Leashes

Twenty-Seven--Corsets

Twenty-Eight--Pain Play

Twenty-Nine--Kneeling

Thirty--Endearments

Thirty-One--Soft Dom

[kittymanya]

and then heres a bunch of headshots I made bc i wanted to get a keychain chain of them all

[athena-xox]

YESSSS

Not like tsbol came out 5 years before the archer

Pfft

Okay but actually I have such a core memory of making a dexven playlist in 2020 that was just the archer

ITS SO DEXVEN

“All of my enemies started out friends” I think we can all see how that relates to Raven

“A hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you” LITERALLY TRUE HEARTS DAY

“All of my heroes die all alone” MY POOR BABY RAVEN

“I cut off my nose just to spite my face” it’s giving Raven hating looking like her mom

THE WHOLE SONG

THE ARCHER BY TAYLOR SWIFT MENTIONED WOOOOO🥳

[astralnymphh]

before the flora.

knight!ellie x princess!reader teaser. beginning is essentially just lore. bonus excerpt with ellie and princess interaction below the sketch. wrote the intro in january. no warnings tbh. illustration by @trackinglessons :P READ THIS . PALESTINE MASTERPOST

When the universe was born, there was only fire; a slowly waning blaze. And so hence when death begins to unfurl its low, groaning bloom— there will only be ice.

Yet the heavens and earth are nay alike, as death— and life, are interwoven by the timeless nuptial that is humans, and Mother Nature. Cordial and tepid heartbeats meet with her frigid and frightening marrow this season. Flakes are falling, a howl swells in the wind, and hearths stay an undying tongue of flame in the province of Istenad. Isle of riches and hedonism gone rampant amongst those who proved meritful of a conversation spat over gilded chalices. Or those who wiped a famished tongue stroke over the sole of His Majesty— The King's tan leather boots in entreat, declaring the hide a tenfold more gullet–watering than their stale, daily spare of bread. Where high life reins, low life is there to scrub their steeds.

The wintry pearlescent tundra fringing around uncharted woodlands hums your name— it carries by gale, an airy reed of vowels pulled through your ears. 

Tut, tut, tut, the pecking of bark.

Everything seems to resound much heavier over the windows thick limestone sill. Woodwinds, the sough of pine boughs— a chorus wafted. Woodpeckers, they beat rigid timber with their sonnets of calling. The echoed tut starts to sound awfully kindred to a beckoning call of your name. And at daybreak, when the tangerine sun dips its head under the coast, you feel a magnetic lull to traverse your truest passions and slip away into the night, arctic chilled steel in hand. The quantity of hay sticking beneath your shoes collected by skittering across the night–doused thoroughfare was well enough to concern your maids on duty to dress you, brows fuddled at the streaming of straw near your door come morning.

Loop of your knuckles, bend of your wrist, a hand flexed on the hilt of a meticulously poached sword. A swing 'round your waist, a cold hale grip the air could taste, fighting off many mythic brutes of moonlight, however only conceived where dreams are airtight. The mind, it plays. The play it perceives, a viewing spread like tawny butter. Ghouls and ghastlies encircle a quaint pond, chanting away in cryptic grumbles and beastly bumbles, enraged with their slobber frothing at the fangs you tore from their sockets— deeper than artless, juxtaposed to the blinding ruby reds and dyed paper sunflowers of the theater. Your mind’s play felt real.

Unfortunate to your heart, dreams will stay dreams.

Nary a princess was meant to tune into melee, especially at your courting age. Nevertheless, your psyche has spurned from what a maiden is expected of and is completely in a haven of your own structure, your signature sanctuary. 

In the farmsteads, a forthcoming soldier harvests not just crop— but dexterity. Derived and nurtured in the faraway prairie village of Dunwich, where the fertile seasons prove flaxen of corn and the trickling sweat of every farmhand turns to gold. Any newborn granted to this quaint village is fated to form calloused hands with labor written in their palm lines as time unfolds. In their— well, her— adolescent years, the yearning for practices of gallantry in knighthood swiveled her sights to the colossal stone castle way.. way far away. Sprouting beyond the earth line, far as the eye can see.

So, she learned, she trained, she slept, partaking in a ranged cycle taught by her ruthlessly departed father: Sir Joel. Reprisal became her nemesis; never able to rend the barrier of hesitation and cleanse her shut eyes of revolting imagery. The horseman of death was not omitting the trauma of this hazel-haired soldier. A weight so burdensome, her speckled skin remembers the tales of every scar clawed into it. Like how the lips of a bard cling to an everlasting ballad.

Every knight knew well to exile any lingering ties to the past. It's been years since he passed, she understands that. Though, the heart never lies, and certainly never covets forgetting.

Ambitions stemming from legions of knights in waiting have fallen short, submerging within the moat of the castle and sinking deep into the catacombs with no elegy sung. An allegory for dreams long since vanished. A domain so valued longs for those biding life with rigid bones, such as she. Tempered by the hardships, endured like metal meeting the blacksmith's chisel. 

A vividness to her movements, flowing like a river. For it is water that soothes the most cosmic fires, carves veins into the earth's soil, descends from the heavens above and proves iron soluble. A knight so pinpoint and poised like a painter, yet so daring and baneful like a warrior of evenfall. An artisan of her craft, this knight-to-be is. Born to thrive in matters regarding protection of their kingdom and its nobility. By the sheer tenacity of her skill, she will excel. From the self–instructed lessons in a verdant pasture, basked by undying light in her hometown— to the ordained priming within the royal court. 

They were forged to be dutiful. 

You are a daughter of the illustrious King, Sagard, and swan–grace queen, Sagard— maiden name Adela, and sister of your highly revered and cherished kin, Prudence. Subsequent to her fabled rise, was your fall. A pratfall you plainly turned a serene ear from, for you foresaw its coming. Clandestine adventures and lollygagging in the marketplace earned you right in the clasp of consequences. You knew that, knowing it kept you on the balls of your toes before you'd be caught suiting into an act more repugnant— be it, no.. befogging yourself in a peasant boys' dire–in–muck rags, merely to play "boy" games as a young one? 

Sacrilege! 

Prudence was there, at every occasion, scolding with her youthful finger at the palace fore, sucking her fingertip wet of spit and dragging a stroke over your soot–strewn cheek, just before scuttling the halls in search of father, cawing, “Father, Father! My sisters become a boy again!” until it rang his fucking ears to a pulse. Hmph, father even countered his own remark of squawk, pouring through the walls, “Hah! The second son I wish I reared! Tell me, what peasants skin does she clad: butcher's boy, or of the farmer?”

Rebuking the role of royalty isn't your entire bastion of vengeance. You purely long for a world of your own color. Your self-brewn arcadia of art. In a concise phrase, desire for sovereignty. And your family chastised you curtly for every scant display of free will, short of the Queen, she is fair.

Daughter of the King, Princess of the thicket. You retain your fortunes. Modestly.

“Why don't you resemble your sister more?”

A ruby crested box designed by the best of goldsmiths is lodged at the margin of your beds footboard, safekeeping of your esteemed regalia. You possess a bedazzled amassing of circlets, veils, brocade and velvet tunics of long lengths within this box. But do any of them revel in the blessing of being worn on regal skin? Never. You opted for garbs of less gilding and jewels, so that you might taint it with whatever adventures mold under the ribbing of your foot. That shit offended your skin with its indelicacy of forgetting a human will don its fabric golds and woven jewels.

Even— court gatherings. You don the likeness of simplicity and temperate elegance. This morning's virginal aurora, a broach of light swoll from the windows arch, to the footing of your bed, made the wake of your eyes begin upon a lighting behind sheer skin. Your box of regalia shone in that incandescence momentarily. It danced, fleeter than you, irkingly so. You had to squint whilst flipping the clasps and hauling the heavy lid slanted against your bed, or else you may be heaven–blinded. “Every inch of Princess,” you intoned in quietude at the sight of glamored fabrics, “—whom I shant mirror.” and reached for the homelier fabrics, scratch of cobalt-blue linen delight brushing under your prints, you grasped your reserve tight.

“I was not made aware that there is a village wedding to be, dear sister— from what river does this dress of rags hail from?”

“It is not a brides dress, nor rags, leave me Prud—”

Prudence had blocked the shut of your chamber door with her hand flattened, pursuing, “You glum your gems. Rotting in that chest, tasting no light, no glory.”

You kept your lips thickly sown shut, casting dimly eyes to the ground.

“Shall I send for the steward so he may sell—”

“No need.”

“Hmm, most stubborn, are we? Then I—”

“I am least stubborn,” you wedged your fingers beneath her palm, prying the door loose, “—it is you, who strays your own counsel, unmoving as a mountain.” ending with the trudging shut of your door, ceasing in silence.

[++ bonus excerpt from act 2, scene 1]

“Uh–huh..” she draws out. Legato; a sarcastic reply, and wipes her tongue through the press of her lips together, “This far out? You must rebel quite often to have made a friend, I bet?” she tilts her head, a bit playful.

“You bet well— a lot, I assume?” 

Cannily, she winks, “Indeed I do.” and aligns her face onward. Gesturing to her horse's rump a second— third? Eh, whatever time— she jerks her brow with a head cock back, “Hop on, I'll take you there.”

Both brows fall, and you flinch bemused, “Wh– uh,” as you hem and haw for words, grating a stutter, “But not a moment ago you spoke of the roads recent perils—”

“Surely it's not far?” she spoke presumptuously, “I mean, you've come this far, My Lady. Nobody would travel the woods past sunset, besides you it seems.” now a matter–of–fact vocal barricade that shoves itself into your ears and winds the cogs to think cleverly.

You shan't know my transgressions, sweet Knight. You may talk.

Trust is sparse as a puddle marched in.

“‘Tis but a mile out. Bravo on your convincing, Williams.” you wry and scoff. 

“Can't fumble that name, huh?”

“I would not want to dishonor your knighthood.” 

“You honor me with your coincidental presence, Princess.”

“Honor in your mind.”

"Hmph," her breathy chuckle, a sweetness you luckily caught with ears even numbed by the snowsquall. Do not blush. Do not smile. Fuck. Guess you'll be visiting Malina after all, the gale of a displeased sigh icing your lips over as you approach that dangling stirrup.

[vintagelasvegas]

A.K. Wright as Vegas Vic, c. 1956

A.K. (August Kermit) Wright was a Pioneer Club host, playing the Vegas Vic character at the club and for public events, off and on from the mid 50s to late 60s. Others who have been called “the real Vegas Vic” include Zack Hale (another host), Bud Weil (voice recording), and Dexter Smith (voice recording). Pioneer Club had a Vegas Vickie hostess in the 60s.

Photos courtesy of Dennis Connolly.

Caption: High and Mitey. Las Vegas, Nev – The Long and Short of a Wild West Mardi Gras team up in Las Vegas, as seven-foot-tall Vegas Vic and five-year-old Shannon Beeley match poses. They’ll be the biggest and smallest participants in the 23rd annual Helldorado Days festivities in the resort center, May 16th - 19th. Credit: United Press Photo, 5/13/67