#first appearance dark empire 3

[swtechspecs]

Slayn & Korpil V-Wing Airspeeder (with Model A Speeder Transport)

Source: The Essential Guide to Vehicles and Vessels (Del Rey, 1996)

[goddessofvalyria]

THE NERD BOY | Michael Gavey x fem!oc

Summary: Mabel is a rich pretty American girl who moves to Oxford to study. One day, the nerd Michael Gavey notices her in the library pining for mathematics. The boy offers his help and soon a strange understanding is born between the two…

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Mabel with black eyes and hair, oral (m receiving), SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, Michael being insecure.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4243

Mabel Reyes was the kind of girl who turned heads everywhere she went. She had that effortless beauty, the kind that made people whisper and stare in admiration. Her long black hair always seemed to catch the light just right, and her brown eyes sparkled with a confidence that came from knowing she was the queen bee of any social circle she entered. Back in California, she had ruled her high school like queen, with her impeccable grades and a cheerleading record that was the stuff of legend. She was the girl everyone wanted to be or be with, and she wore that title with pride.

But Oxford was different. Mabel had left behind the sun-kissed beaches of California for the misty mornings and historic halls of the University of Oxford. It was a place where her reputation had preceded her, whispers of the beautiful American girl with rich parents had quickly spread through the ancient stone walls. By the end of her first week, everyone knew her name. The daughters and sons of Britain's elite were drawn to her like moths to a flame, particularly a group led by the charismatic Felix Catton. Felix and his friends were Oxford's version of royalty, and Mabel fit in with them perfectly.

They spent their weekends in London, sipping cocktails in exclusive clubs and being photographed by paparazzi, their every move chronicled by society pages. Mabel dazzled them with stories of her glamorous life, tales of sailing in the Caribbean, and surfing in Australia. She spoke of America with a fondness that made it sound like a paradise, and she hinted at the life waiting for her after graduation—a life of luxury, managing her family's fashion empire back in California. 

But beneath the surface, Mabel was struggling. Her academic record had always been spotless, but maths had never been her strong suit. Now, in the hallowed halls of Oxford, the pressure was mounting. The looming exams were like a dark cloud over her, especially the thought of failing math class. It was the one subject she couldn't charm her way through, and it terrified her. 

One late afternoon, the library was nearly deserted, and Mabel was slumped over a pile of textbooks, her usually flawless appearance slightly disheveled. She had been staring at the same page of equations for what felt like hours, the numbers and symbols blurring together. She was used to things coming easily to her likes literature and history, but math was like a foreign language she couldn't decode.

That's when she noticed someone standing nearby, a figure she hadn't expected to see in her orbit. Michael Gavey was the polar opposite of everything Mabel embodied. Where she was glamorous, he was unassuming; where she was surrounded by friends, he was totally alone. But Michael was a math genius, known throughout the university for his brilliance and to be the most loser boy ever. He was the kind of person who preferred the company of books to people, someone who lived in his own world of numbers and theories.

He approached her hesitantly, as if unsure whether he should intrude on her space. "You look like you could use some help" he said quietly, his voice soft but clear. 

Mabel looked up, surprised. For a moment, she considered brushing him off, but the desperation in her chest won out. "I really don’t get this" she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Math has never been my thing."

Michael nodded, understanding her struggle more than she knew. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her, his presence calming in a way she hadn't expected. "Let me show you" he offered, and for the next hour, he patiently explained the concepts that had been eluding her.

As they worked together, Mabel found herself relaxing, her usual defenses lowering as she realized that Michael wasn’t there to judge her. He was just there to help.

As the weeks passed, Mabel Reyes found herself surprisingly drawn to the company of Michael Gavey. What had started as a purely practical arrangement—using Michael's brilliance in math to help her pass—had slowly transformed into something more. With each study session, she began to appreciate his quiet intelligence, his dry sense of humor, and the way he never treated her like the celebrity she was used to being. Michael saw her as Mabel, not the glamorous American heiress or the popular girl everyone envied, but just Mabel.

Word of their unlikely partnership spread through Oxford like wildfire. It was the kind of story that people couldn’t resist: the nerdy, awkward boy and the beautiful, popular girl, straight out of a rom-com. People gossiped about them, whispered as they passed by in the halls, and even made bets on whether something more would happen between them. But Michael, in his usual fashion, seemed completely unfazed by the attention. He never cared what others thought, and he made that clear during one of their study sessions.

It was a chilly afternoon, and they were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, the same place where Michael had first offered his help. Mabel was struggling with a particularly difficult equation, her frustration growing as she scribbled out yet another wrong answer. Sensing her tension, Michael calmly walked her through the problem step by step, his voice patient and steady.

After they finished, Mabel leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I heard there's going to be a big Christmas party soon. Felix and the others are all excited about it," she mentioned casually, glancing at Michael to gauge his reaction.

Michael didn’t look up from the book he was paging through. "I was NFI: not fucking invited" he replied, his tone neutral but with a hint of indifference.

Mabel frowned. "Why not? There will be all the college!"

Michael shook his head, a small, almost bitter smile on his lips. "Michael Gavey doesn’t exist in the eyes of others. And honestly, I don’t care about their stupid lives. They’re all wrapped up in their own little bubbles. I’m just not part of that world, and I’m fine with it."

His words struck a chord with Mabel. For so long, she had been the center of attention, the one everyone wanted to be around. But with Michael, she was reminded that not everyone was drawn to the same superficial allure that had defined her life so far. She looked at him, really looked at him, and noticed the faint blush creeping up his neck as he kept his eyes on the book. It was then that she realized something she hadn’t noticed before: Michael had developed a crush on her.

At first, she had used his feelings to her advantage, making sure he would continue to tutor her. But now, things were different. She had come to value his friendship and his company, and she didn’t want to hurt him. He was the only person who saw her for who she truly was, not just a pretty face with a wealthy background. And that mattered to her more than she wanted to admit.

The Christmas party was only a few days away, and as the date approached, Mabel found herself feeling more conflicted. Normally, she would have been excited about dressing up, being the center of attention, and partying with her friends. But this year, something felt off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, the party wasn’t where she wanted to be.

That evening, as she sat in front of her vanity mirror, carefully applying her makeup and fixing her hair, she couldn’t help but think about Michael. She pictured him, alone in his room or maybe at the library, completely uninterested in the glitz and glamour that surrounded her life. Part of her wanted to be at the party, to enjoy herself and live up to the expectations everyone had for her. But another part of her wondered what it would be like to spend the evening differently, away from the spotlight and with someone who truly understood her.

As she finished getting ready, she stared at her reflection, feeling a tug in her heart. For the first time in a long time, Mabel wasn’t sure what she wanted. The Christmas party was just hours away, but whether she would actually attend was a question she couldn’t yet answer.

Mabel stared at her reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail. Her silver dress clung to her figure perfectly, shimmering with every movement. The high boots added a touch of boldness to her elegant look, and her hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place. Her makeup was flawless, highlighting her already striking features. She was the epitome of beauty, the kind of girl who could stop traffic with just a glance.

But as she gazed at herself, a strange feeling washed over her. This was the image everyone expected of her—the glamorous, perfect Mabel Reyes. Yet tonight, it felt like a mask she no longer wanted to wear.

She took a deep breath, stepping away from the mirror and grabbing her coat. The party was waiting, and she knew she’d be the center of attention as soon as she arrived. But as she walked through the corridors of the old Oxford building, her heels clicking against the stone floors, doubts began to creep in. Each step felt heavier, as if something was pulling her back.

Halfway to the party, Mabel stopped. She could hear the faint sounds of music and laughter in the distance, but instead of feeling drawn to it, she felt a growing desire to be somewhere else. With someone else.

Without giving herself time to overthink, she turned around and headed back in the opposite direction. Her heart raced as she made her way to Michael's room, a decision forming in her mind with every step.

Michael was in his room, completely absorbed in solving a complex equation. Numbers and symbols danced across the pages of his notebook, the familiar comfort of mathematics grounding him in his solitude. The Christmas party was the furthest thing from his mind; he had never been one for social events, especially those where he felt like an outsider. 

But then, there was a knock at his door. It was unexpected—no one ever knocked on his door, especially not during party hours. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was a mistake. But the knock came again, more insistent this time.

He got up and opened the door, and there she was: Mabel Reyes, the most beautiful girl in all of Oxford, standing in front of him. The sight of her took his breath away. The silver dress, the high boots, the impeccable hair—all of it made her look like she had just stepped out of a dream. But there was something different in her eyes, a softness that he hadn’t seen before.

“Mabel?” Michael stammered, utterly confused. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the party?”

Instead of answering, Mabel took a step closer, her gaze locked on his. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside her. Michael, with his slightly tousled blond hair, glasses slipping down his nose, and that familiar sweater vest, looked up at her with wide eyes, clearly baffled by her presence.

Without a word, Mabel reached out, grabbing him by the front of his sweater. In one swift motion, she pulled him towards her and kissed him. The kiss was soft yet firm, a collision of two worlds that had seemed so far apart until now. Michael froze for a moment, completely taken by surprise, before he slowly started to kiss her back, his hands hesitantly finding their way to her waist.

As she stepped into his room, the door closing behind them, Mabel felt a wave of relief. She had no idea what this meant or where it would lead, but right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the connection she felt with Michael, something genuine and untainted by the expectations of others.

They pulled apart, both a little breathless, and Michael stared at her, still in shock. “Mabel, what—why did you do that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mabel smiled, a real, unguarded smile. “Because I wanted to” she said simply, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “I didn’t want to be at the party. I wanted to be here, with you.”

Michael blinked, as if trying to process her words. “But...why me? You could be anywhere right now, with anyone.”

“Exactly” Mabel replied, her voice soft but certain. “But I’m here. You’ve been the only person who sees me for who I am, not just what I look like or where I come from. You’ve been real with me, Michael, and I needed that.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, slowly, a smile began to spread across Michael’s face, one that lit up his usually serious expression. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening, but he didn’t want it to end.

Mabel stepped closer again, resting her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. It felt right, in a way she hadn’t expected. And as they stood there, holding each other in the quiet of his room, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little universe.

Michael stood there, his heart racing as he processed what had just happened. The girl he had admired from afar, the one he never imagined would even notice him, had just kissed him. And now, she was standing in his room, looking at him with a smile that made him feel both exhilarated and terrified.

“That…that was my first kiss" he confessed shy, his voice trembling slightly. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, but there was something about Mabel that made him want to be honest.

Mabel's expression softened as she took in his words. She had suspected as much, but hearing it from him made her realize just how different their worlds were. Yet here they were, together in this moment. “Well, I’m glad I could be your first,” she said with a gentle smile.

She reached down and began to unlace her high boots, sliding them off one by one. Then, without hesitation, she climbed onto his bed and patted the space next to her. “Come here” she invited, her tone playful yet sincere.

Michael hesitated, nerves tying his stomach in knots. This was all so new to him, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. But he couldn’t resist the pull he felt towards her. Slowly, he walked over and sat down beside her, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He was tense, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which made any sense.

“What now?” he asked nervously, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Mabel looked around his room, taking in the shelves filled with books, the stacks of papers covered in equations, and the general chaos that was the domain of a true academic. It was exactly what she had expected—a space that reflected Michael’s brilliant but solitary mind. She turned back to him, her smile widening as she realized just how innocent he was.

“I’m guessing that if that was your first kiss...” she began, her voice teasing, “you’ve never had a girlfriend either?”

Michael shook his head, his blush deepening as he met her gaze. “No, never” he admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. He had always been focused on his studies, never even considering the possibility of a relationship, let alone one with someone like Mabel.

Mabel’s smile turned mischievous as she stood up in front of him, looking down at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Mmh, Gavey” she murmured, her voice soft but full of intent. She reached for the straps of her silver dress, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she let it slide off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet.

Michael’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of her standing there in front of him, completely vulnerable and utterly breathtaking. His face turned a deep shade of red, and he quickly averted his eyes, not sure where to look or what to do.

Mabel, seeing his discomfort, stepped closer and gently lifted his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. “It’s okay, Michael,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

But he was nervous, more than he had ever been in his life. He had no idea how to navigate this situation, and the fear of doing something wrong was almost paralyzing. Yet, the warmth of her presence, the softness in her voice, made him want to try, to take a step into this unknown territory with her.

Mabel leaned in and kissed him again, this time slower, deeper, her hands resting on his shoulders. Michael closed his eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of her lips on his, letting go of his fears, if only for a moment. When they pulled apart, she guided him to stand up, her hands trailing down his arms.

She could see how tense he was, but she also saw the trust in his eyes, the way he was willing to let her lead. And in that moment, Mabel realized that this wasn’t just about physical attraction or desire; it was about connecting with someone on a deeper level, someone who saw her for who she truly was.

Mabel stood in front of Michael, now wearing only a lace thong and no bra, her boobs were big and round. Her confidence was unshakable, while Michael was visibly flustered, unsure of where to look or what to do next. His glasses fogged up slightly, and he fumbled with his hands, trying to figure out where to place them. The reality of the situation was overwhelming, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.

Noticing his discomfort, Mabel stepped closer and gently reached up, removing his glasses. She set them aside on the nearby desk, her touch soft and reassuring. “You don’t need these right now” she said with a smile, her voice low and soothing.

Michael blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden blur of the room without his glasses, but Mabel was the only thing he could focus on. Her closeness, her warmth—it was all consuming. He swallowed hard, still feeling awkward and unsure, but Mabel’s presence was calming.

She could see how nervous he was, and she knew she needed to ease his anxiety. “It’s okay, Michael,” she whispered, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll guide you.”

Mabel’s words were like a lifeline, something for him to hold onto in the midst of his swirling thoughts. He nodded slightly, trusting her to lead him through this unfamiliar territory.

With that, Mabel leaned in, closing the gap between them, and began kissing him softly. Her lips moved against his with a tenderness that was both comforting and exhilarating. Michael was stiff at first, unsure of how to respond, but Mabel was patient. She took her time, her hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to relax.

Gradually, Michael began to respond, his lips mirroring hers as he let go of some of his tension. Mabel’s hands wandered down his back, feeling the slight tremble in his muscles as she deepened the kiss. She pressed her body against his, feeling the heat between them intensify.

Michael’s mind was spinning, the sensation of Mabel’s skin against his, her scent, the softness of her lips—it was all overwhelming, yet he found himself getting lost in the moment, letting her guide him as she had promised. 

As their kisses grew more passionate, Mabel could feel Michael beginning to relax, his awkwardness melting away under her touch. She knew this was all new to him, and she wanted to make it a moment he would never forget, a memory they would both cherish.

Mabel pulled back slightly, her lips just inches from his, and whispered, “Just follow my lead, Michael.” Her eyes searched his for any sign of hesitation, but what she saw was trust, and something more—desire.

With a reassuring smile, she guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to explore, to take the next step. Michael hesitated for only a moment before his hands moved cautiously over her skin, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

Mabel kissed him again, more urgently this time, letting him know that it was okay to let go, to embrace what was happening between them. And slowly, Michael began to do just that, surrendering to the moment, to her, as the rest of the world faded away.

Mabel took off his sweater and shirt, stopping to admire his bare chest. "Do you go to the gym Gavey?" she said with a smirk, noting his defined chest and toned arms. "When... when no one sees me" he revealed shyly.

Stripped of his clothes and wearing only black boxers, he felt uncomfortable. "I've never had sex" he declared. "I... I've never touched... a... girl" he continued embarrassed. Mabel, sitting on his hips could feel the hardness of his masculinity. "Fuck Gavey" she whispered.

"I'd like that" he continued embarrassed. "With you" he added, shyly encircling her hips with his hands. "If you like" he looked up at her. "Mmh yes, Gavey" Mabel whispered. She rose from his hips. "Look at me" she ordered, slowly slipping off her lace panties.

"You can keep them" she whispered, naked in front of him Michael felt paralyzed. he couldn't take his eyes off her. Mabel climbed back onto the bed, on top of him. "I can do something to make you feel better" she whispered kissing him, slowly moving her kisses down. she felt michael tremble, she grabbed his hand to give him confidence. Then she pulled down his boxers, revealing his big fat cock. She smiled at Michael before taking him between her lips, sucking him and feeling him give under her touch. The nerdy boy started to pant, that girl was demonic.

Mabel got even more excited, sucking and licking him, she felt herself soaking wet between the things. she didn't make him come, she stood up licking her lips, leaving Michael hard and erect. "Why---" he moaned.

"My pretty and nerdy boy" she began looking at him. "Do you want to fuck me, Michael Gavey?" Mabel asked. Michael felt himself blushing, he looked at his erection. "I... I would like that" he whispered. "Look" Mabel whispered, bringing two fingers between her legs and showing them to the little nerd. "I'm soaking wet and horny because of you"

Michael felt himself faint, his breathing becoming heavy. "Do you have a condom?" he asked. "Fuck, no, sorry I-" Michael began.

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill" Mabel replied, lifting her hips. "Say goodbye to the little virgin nerd Michael Gavey" Mabel whispered, letting Michael's big cock invade her.

"Oh fuck Michael" she cried as she started to move, she put her hands on his chest riding him, michael brought his hands around her hips helping her move. She was so hot, so wet, tight... god, she was driving him crazy. Mabel was riding him so good, so easy.

Michael reached up to her breasts, touching her sore nipples. Mabel found herself moaning his name, riding him so fucking good that Michael felt the need to come. "Look at you," she whispered, cupping his face with one hand. "You're so cute, Gavey..." she teased him again, and soon Michael hardened and came inside her.

Mabel closed her eyes, clenching around his cock, coming on top of him. She collapsed on top of him, shaking and sweating, her makeup running.

Michael hugged her. "I know you like me," she whispered against his ear. "You have a girlfriend now, Michael Gavey."

Michael felt his heart explode with joy.

He had a girlfriend.

He was loved.

"If you want to," she whispered, still lying on his chest. "I... I'd like that, pretty girl," Michael whispered. Mabel smiled, sitting up.

"Ah" she groaned in pain. "My legs hurt." Michael looked at her. "You fucked me so good, my little nerdy boy." Michael sat up, gently took the blanket from the bed and handed it to her. "Sleep with me," he offered. "Of course I'll sleep with you," Mabel whispered, still naked, slipping under the sheets.

Michael let her have the side of the bed next to the wall, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I like you Michael, I really like you," Mabel whispered.

"Two weeks after you started tutoring me, I broke up with my boyfriend," she declared. "I was with him because my parents made me."

Michael felt a tightness in his chest. "With you, I felt free to be who I wanted to be and you accepted me." Michael turned onto his side, caressing her face and warming her with his body.

"My little nerdy boy," Mabel whispered, kissing him so intensely that it made his insides tremble.

Finally, Michael Gavey was happy and proud to be the little nerd boy.

[sinner-as-saint]

no masters or kings - 3

Priest!Bucky x Reader 

Read Part 1 and Part 2 here 

Run-through: Father Barnes’ life had been rather peaceful for years. He never complained though, he chose this. Between mass on Sundays, bible study sessions during the week, and office hours, the amount of time he has left he dedicated to reading and keeping his body active. There wasn’t much to do in this small, almost forgotten town. Then a new face appeared. A woman, married to some businessman who leaves her all by herself while he grows his fortune in the city. Father Barnes seemed determined at first, to herd and care for the new, young, lonely little lamb. But that is until he found himself tempted to sin like never before. 

Requested: “i really wanna hear more about priest bucky. what would be his reaction to the readers partner coming back to town suddenly? or what about readers spouse saying they should start trying for a baby?” 

Themes: priest!bucky, smut, degrading kink, infidelity, explicit language, (sacrilege, blasphemy, and all the other bad stuff), breeding kink, jealous!bucky, slight angst

a/n: for @cadence-on-beat and @winters1917 (sorry this took so long ily) 

Bucky was leading a double life, and he had never been happier. 

By day he was the kind, gentle, compassionate priest he’d been for years in this small town. By day he was the man who had chosen this plain life rather than be the heir to his parents’ business empire. He still visited his family home over the holidays, and helped out with business stuff whenever he could. Like the good man he was. By day he prayed, and helped, and preached, and listened to all those who came to him, to confess, to lean on his shoulder, to cry, to repent. By day he was the priest the people in this small town knew and loved him as. 

But then in the dark, he’d find his way to you. Always. Each night ever since those first few times. It was almost instinctual. Natural. Like Persephone finding her way back to Hades’ kingdom of darkness come autumn. Like it was destiny. A primal pull. 

Bucky didn’t run at night that often anymore. If ever he did, he’d never come home. He would just run to you and stay the night, and leave right before the sun rose. 

It all started that one night he found himself running in the dark in one specific direction – towards your luxurious home. 

Your home was located in the rather quiet part of the town, which was a good thing. You didn’t have any neighbours, which was also good because no one saw him making his way to your front door. 

His heart raced as he reached for the door handle. He thought back to what you’d once confessed to him: “Sometimes I leave the doors and windows unlocked or opened, even at night. Shamelessly hoping someone might just walk in…” 

Surely not. Right? But what if– 

He stopped thinking and froze the moment he turned the handle and the door opened an inch. Unlocked, just as you had said. Were you secretly hoping he’d seek you out one night? 

He was here unannounced. This was not planned. He was sort of worried that he might scare you, given the boundaries he was crossing. But part of him – the long restrained, dark corner of him – was excited for this little game he was about to play. Hunter. Prey. Cat. Mouse. Something stirred inside him, and he quickly realised that his cock was harder than ever as he quietly stepped into your home. 

It was dark inside, no lights were on. Except one upstairs, it looked like the soft, dim light in the hallway which lit part of the staircase. The house smelt a lot like you. Sweet. Soft. Warm. For a moment he pictured you moving around this space. And he liked it a lot. 

He began making his way upstairs, he figured by the darkness and silence that you weren’t downstairs. He went to follow the dimmed light coming from somewhere, then two things happened at the same time. It began raining outside, the wind making the rain hit the windows harder than normal. And second, Bucky realised that the stairs were creaking with each step. 

He went still for a moment. Every other sound around him became louder. His heartbeats, the rain hitting the glass around the house, and the muffled shuffling coming from upstairs. 

You were awake. He figured. You were awake and aware that he was here. And you were trying to be as quiet as possible, not screaming bloody murder which meant that… you wanted to play as well. 

Bucky smirked as he took his sweet time in making his way upstairs, making sure and letting each step creak as loudly as possible. He soon found himself in that dimly lit hallway, at the end of which were dark, double doors. One of them was partially opened. Surely your bedroom. 

He could hear noises the more he approached the doors. And he was certain he even heard a soft giggle which warmed his heart, and made him smile despite the hard as rock erection in his running shorts which desperately needed attention. 

He didn’t even bother knocking on the already opened door, he just pushed it open wider so he could step inside. And there, even in the dark room only lit by the street lights outside, he could see the shape of you in the middle of your four-poster bed, sitting, waiting. 

“Father Barnes?” You called out softly. 

“You shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked. You don’t know who might just walk in,” He spoke as he walked further into your room, approaching the bed. “You wouldn’t know it, but some people walk around with the most dark thoughts in their heads. You don’t know when they might just…” He braced a hand against one of the posters on your bed and leaned down just a little, “... give in.” 

-

He didn’t see the slight smirk on your face. It was dark after all, the rain was getting heavier, trapping you two even more inside this perfect bubble. 

Father Barnes spoke to you with that priestly voice of his, like he only had good intentions. Like he wasn’t here to fuck you, but guide you gently like you were a lost little lamb. It was comforting, that voice. Except right now, it only made you clench your thighs tighter together under the covers. 

“I see.” You mumbled, faking the apologetic tone in your voice. All you wanted was to pull him down onto your bed and straddle him but if he wanted to play this little game, then fine. You could wait a little more. “But I’m safe with you, aren’t I? You’re here to make sure no one with ill intentions finds their way to me?” 

You watched as he walked around the bed to come to the side, sat down on the edge of your bed and reached out to touch your cheek with his cold hand. “Of course, little lamb. You’re always safe with me.” He said, stroking your cheek. His hand was cold so you shivered against his touch, but didn’t pull away. He noticed and said, “Are you cold? Poor you, come here.” He patted his lap, “I’ll keep you warm, and safe. I promise.” 

You wasted no time in getting out of the covers and finding your way onto his lap, straddling him and enjoying the way he groaned the moment your bare cunt brushed against his hard on. “Fuck,” You mumbled, unable to help yourself from grinding against him just once. Just to feel him between your thighs. It made your head all foggy. 

“What is this?” He questioned, faking displeasure. “Is this what you wear to sleep? With the door unlocked? You’re practically naked.” He chided, fingers rubbing against your exposed back the moment he noticed you were wearing nothing but an excuse of a silky night dress, with the back open, the neckline dangerously low, and the length barely below your butt. “Good women don’t dress like this, you know? You’re a walking temptation. Is this what you want? To lure strange men into your home while your husband is away? Is that what this is?” 

His hand found its way in between your legs, shamelessly toying with your wet folds and clit, making you whine and whimper as you ground your hips against his hand, seeking more. 

“No,” You mumbled, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t do anything.” You whined as his finger slowly slid inside you. His other hand still stroking your back. This was all you wanted. To be here in his embrace. 

Father Barnes chuckled, “Ah, see but you did. You lured me in. You tempted me.” He looked down and saw, with whatever minimal light was available, how his hand disappeared in between your thighs, and how your hips moved so perfectly, riding his finger. “Look,” He said, “Look at what you’re making me do.” 

You moaned out loud when he slid another finger inside you, fucking you so slowly and perfectly that it felt like you might die. “But I–,” 

“Shh,” He cut you off. “You should be thankful I’m not like other men. You see, they would just walk in and use you. But not me. You know me. You’re safe with me, remember?” 

You nodded, shoving your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “Yes, Father Barnes.” You mumbled in between moans. 

“That’s it, lamb. Just trust me, okay?” 

-

Fuck. 

Bucky couldn’t take this any longer. He enjoyed this little game but he needed you. So it didn’t take much for him to twist around and place you down on the bed and hover above you. The little light coming in from outside allowed him to see parts of you. Your parted lips, the hunger in your eyes, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, the way your thighs cradled his body. Fuck. He could live in this moment forever. 

“How many nights have you waited for me to just walk in here and play with you, hmm?” He lifted the hem of your night dress and sighed at the sight of your naked body. 

You easily removed the night dress and threw it aside, your hands finding their way into his hair as you pulled him closer. “Too many to count.” You whispered, lips brushing against his mouth. “I need you, please.” 

You were barely done talking when he lazily ran his fingers down your wet folds. You shivered under him, squirming on the bed. 

“Look at you, so shamelessly wet.” He growled, grabbing your face in his other hand as he slid two fingers inside you and making you gasp and moan. “Does this feel good? Hmm? This is why you leave your door open, and dress like that at night, huh? All because you want some man to show up and touch you however he wants? Does that make you feel wanted?” He stroked you in all the right places and had you coming all over his fingers in no time.You whined and squirmed as he kept finger-fucking you through your orgasm. 

He pulled away for a brief moment, taking his clothes off but leaving his boxers lowered just enough to free his erected cock. You watched as he stroked it once, twice before finding his way back in between your legs. 

One of his hands found its way to your throat and he wrapped his fingers around it carefully as he stared into your eyes. “You’re gonna let me fuck you just that easily, huh? You’re that hungry for it? I found my way into your house at night, unexpected, and you’re not even gonna put up a fight?” 

You were trembling with need. Unable to look away from his intense eyes as he guided the tip of his cock over to your clit and circled it, smearing his precum and your wetness around. You whimpered at the sensation. “Please…” You begged. 

He chuckled, teasing you a bit more by just pressing the tip of his cock against your tight hole. Not pushing it in, just pressing ever so gently until you whined and clawed at his shoulders. “See how bad you want it? Is this how good women behave?” He taunted before pushing his cock inside you. “No they don’t,” He whispered as he slid all the way in, “This is how good little sluts behave.” 

He remained still for a few moments, just relishing the feeling of your warmth around him. Your breath was shaky as you felt him fill you up and stretch you out so deliciously, snug deep inside you. 

He stared at your face, contorting in pleasure. Then he chuckled, and the slightest friction made you whine even louder. “I feel good inside you, don’t I?” He teased, rolling his hips just the slightest bit against you. When you cried out in pleasure, he tightened his grip around your throat and said, “I know, I know it feels good. Desperate woman like you, this is all you needed, huh?” He whispered. 

Fuck, he felt so good. You nodded, going along with whatever he said because it was so hot – his body, his words, his touch, the depravity of it all. “Yes,” You mumbled, so overcome with pleasure even though he hadn’t started fucking you yet that you felt like you could cry. 

“Then tell me.” He said, “Tell me I feel good inside you.” 

Another whine, and a gasp, then you mumbled, “You feel so good inside me, Father Barnes.” A pause then, “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, desperately.

-

Bucky didn’t want to wait another second, he couldn’t take it anymore either. His entire body felt like it was on fire as he started fucking into you hard and fast, not bothering to be nice to you. Not this time, not right now he couldn’t. 

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear and telling you how good you felt. You could only respond with moans and whimpers, which only made him fuck you harder. 

“That little head of yours is filled with filthy thoughts only, isn’t it? Seducing a priest,” He said in a tone of pretend discontent, “You should be punished for that.” He whispered in your ear, in a daze as he pounded into you. Your body squirmed under him, your back arching off the bed, chest pressing into his. 

You must’ve wanted him closer still because Bucky let out a soft chuckle when he noticed you raised your trembling legs and wrapped them around his hips. Pulling him deeper into you, if that was possible. 

“You want me closer? Want me to fuck you deeper, harder? Hmm? Is that what this is?” He taunted. “You just want to be my dirty, filthy, little slut? Huh? You never want me to stop?” He held your stare, pressing the sides of your throat as he fucked deeper into you. 

He watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your moans getting louder, your body heating up beneath him, your walls clenching around his cock in that way he loved. 

“Well then, you don’t get to come that easily.” 

-

Those words brought you right back to reality, just when you were right on that edge. 

“What?” You questioned in disbelief, but not doing anything to stop him as he pulled out, grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around onto your stomach. 

“Bucky!” You cried out as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your lower back with one hand. That earned you a smack on the butt. Hard. Stinging. 

“That’s Father Barnes to you, you little slut.” 

You moaned when you felt him guiding his cock back to your hole again. 

He leaned over your back to whisper into your ear, sliding his cock inside you as he said, “You belong to me.” He said, like it was the most ardent prayer. He tugged on your pinned wrists, which made you whine in pain and pleasure. “So if you’re gonna leave the doors unlocked, and if you’re gonna wear these slutty things to bed, it’ll be only for me. You hear me?” 

“Yes!” You agreed immediately, then yelped in pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back into you from behind. 

Then he began fucking you again, hard and fast. Mercilessly. Like an ancient god taking what was offered to him at his altar. Like it was his right. Like you were there, open and willing only for his taking. Rough. Raw. The pleasure was overwhelming. 

“Come for me…” 

And you did. 

Not just that night, but every night which followed. 

Each time you heard those stairs creak in the middle of the night, your heart would begin racing in anticipation. Because nothing was as exciting as indulging in what was forbidden. 

But naturally, things couldn’t go on like this for long without some kind of hindrance. 

Then there was that phone call. 

Your husband called and a conversation was had which soured your mood for the rest of the day. To a point where not even Father Barnes could take your mind off things. 

The two of you laid in your bed that night, both sweaty and damp and in dire need of showers but neither of you wanted to move so there you remained. Limbs tangled. Your head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeats. His hand rubbing your back, while the other traced random shapes all over your thigh. 

“What is it?” He asked after a good half an hour of just cuddling in silence. 

The room was dark, and it wasn’t raining so the silence was too loud to ignore. 

“Nothing.” You answered. 

-

Bucky sighed. Of course it wasn’t nothing. “Tell me,” He insisted. 

“It’s… complicated.” You answered. 

“Try. We’ll make sense of it together, I promise.” He used that priestly tone, one he knew worked with everyone. 

A moment of silence later you said, “My husband called.” And Bucky’s heart dropped. Suddenly he felt cold, empty, deserted. Like something, someone had abandoned him. And he didn’t even know what your husband had said yet, but he could tell he wouldn’t like it. 

“I see. Has he found out about us?” 

A humourless chuckle from you meant that that wasn’t the case. 

“Worse,” You spoke quietly, “He met up with our parents for lunch recently and… they mentioned wanting grandkids.” 

Bucky pulled away instantly like your touch burned his skin. It was childish, he knew, to be this jealous when he was clearly in the wrong. He sat up on the edge of your bed, and tried to get his emotions under control. 

He had no right to be angry. To feel betrayed. To feel sad. 

“Don’t pull away from me. Please.” You whispered, kneeling behind him on the bed and wrapping your arms around him from behind. 

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the warmth of your skin. The feeling of your chest pressing against his back. The way you nuzzled his neck, leaving soft kisses all over his skin. 

“Everytime I think I have you, I’m reminded that you belong to someone else.” He confessed. “And I have no right to be angry. Or expected anything from you.” 

You sighed, letting your hands touch him all over his chest, caressing his shoulders, down his arms as you said, “I don’t belong to anyone but you. My husband and I… we talked about it earlier. We respect each other, but there’s no way we could get together like that. Maybe we can adopt. Or find a surrogate, but–,” 

He cut you off, annoyed at the mere mention of another man. “There’s no place for me in your life.” He announced, calmly. “There is still time. We could put an end to this. Then perhaps you two could try and do right by your marriage and–,” 

That calm tone pissed you off for some reason, “Oh stop trying to be all nice, calm, and priestly as if you weren’t fucking me like an animal just now!” You pulled away from him, glaring at the back of his neck even in the mostly dark room. “Do right by my marriage.” You scoffed. “Is that what you want?” You questioned, keeping your voice steady. “You want me to climb into my husband’s bed? Let him fuck me however he wants until–,” 

You barely processed what was happening because that’s how fast he moved. One moment you were talking and the next his hand was around your throat and he was standing up, looking down at you still kneeling on the bed. 

“Keep talking, come on.” He dared you, squeezing the sides of your neck. His voice was cold, and unlike anything you’d heard before. 

Despite the chokehold, you smirked. “You don’t like the sound of that, do you, Father Barnes?” You taunted. “I’m just telling you how it’ll go.” 

“I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He growled.

You found yourself flat on your back again, with him above you. The little light available allowed you to see his silhouette. Broad and muscular, all that running made him just the right amount of lean. 

He parted your legs and pushed his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out easily. Bucky’s thoughts were all over the place. How dare you talk about sleeping with another man? How dare he get jealous? How dare you even think about having someone else’s kids? 

There it was. The thing that bothered him the most. Someone else’s kids. Not his. And suddenly he was nothing but a man – not a priest, or a considerate human being, just a man. 

“How fucking dare you?” He questioned, his cock buried so deep inside of you that he was certain neither of you could even think straight. “I give you everything,” He spoke through gritted teeth as he began fucking you, “I take care of you, I fuck you whenever you ask for it, and this is what I get in return?” 

There was nothing gentle or passionate about him. He was wild, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear while you were a moaning mess under him. Skin slapping, breaths mingling, it was so hot. So hot and you couldn’t think. 

“You belong to me.” He hissed in your ear; speeding up again. “I don’t care what the rules are, if you’re gonna carry a child it’ll be mine. Do you fucking hear me?”

Your heart raced at what he said. What about the consequences? What about his job? What will you tell your family? 

But none of that mattered right now, not with his body weight on top of you, not with how perfectly his cock moved in and out of you. You whimpered desperately as he fucked you, relentlessly. 

He sped up into you, whispering into your ear, “I can already see it… you with a bump, my child growing, and safe inside you.” He spoke in a haze, his voice deep and growly. “We’ll go far away from here, consequences be damned.” 

You nodded, agreeing. 

Bucky had never thought about laicization before. Never considered it as an option. Never wanted to. But now? Now things were different. Now he was determined to make you his. He wanted this now, he wanted to have this forever, have you forever. 

He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He slowed down just the slightest bit. He pulled away a little and stared down into your eyes. “You will be mine, forever. I promise you.” He whispered as he fucked deeper into you. “I’ll fix this, I’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry about a thing, you hear me?”

He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing all your moans and mewls as he came inside of you. You felt his warm load shooting at your walls as he shoved his tongue past your lips. You cried out as that triggered your orgasm, and your walls clenched violently around him until you came undone as well. 

Your brain was a foggy mess at this point. 

He pulled his cock out of you and pulled away to reach for the bedside lamp, turned it on so he could admire you under him better. 

A triumphant smirk appeared on his face as he stared at his cum leaking out of you while you panted under him, squirming still as you came down from your high and tried to control your breathing. 

He slowly slipped his fingers back into you and watched how your face morphed into a frown as he fingered his cum back into you again, making you arch your back and whine in pleasure, “Please…” you whined, unsure if you wanted him to stop playing with your body or if you wanted him to make you cum again. 

He didn’t care about how sensitive you were, he just needed to remind you that you belonged to him. He had to make sure you knew. 

Bucky leaned in to kiss you again. “You will carry my child, won’t you, baby?” He whispered against your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. “We’re gonna find a way to make this work. But you are not fucking leaving me, you hear that?” He growled against your lips as you came again. 

He kissed your lips gently, then your closed eyelids, then he left a final kiss on your forehead before he laid beside you, leaving the light on, as he pulled you into his arms. You were limp, and quiet, possibly closer to sleep than consciousness. 

Bucky on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking. He wanted this with you, he’d never been more sure about something in his life before. 

Money was not an issue, he was always going to inherit everything his parents have anyway, and they’ve always begged him to come home and take over the businesses. The only issue would be your family and husband, but he was certain that although some difficult conversations would need to be had, things would be sorted soon enough. 

Then you and him could start your new life. 

He couldn’t wait. 

—

A/n: I won’t be writing more parts for this series, I like to leave some things open-ended. Have fun imagining the rest, if you want, I’ll leave that to you <3 Thank you for loving Father Barnes as much as I did, see y’all in hell. I’ll wait by the gates ;) 

[dereliction-if]

DERELICTION - One empire. Three kingdoms. Four races. A fate so fragile, and yet the celestial spirits decided to put it in the hands of their own potential deicide.

In a fractured realm plagued by ancient animosities, where empires clash and races vie for their own goal, their own dominance, a haunting destiny hangs over an unlikely figure. A pariah, an outcast, and perhaps the only hope - You.

You bear the weight of a dark lineage and the remnants of a once-powerful origin - now shunned by all races. While shadows of your tragic past loom large, a seemingly chance encounter thrusts you into a perilous journey. The path ahead is cloaked in uncertainty, an abyss that beckons you to confront your deepest fears, your deepest desires - a choice that may tip the scales toward salvation or everlasting despair.

It’s upon you to decide: Can you outrun your fate, or will you succumb to the very darkness you seek to defy?

/// FEATURES:

Customize the Main Character (MC) and hereby influence your path in the world:

• Name (including Nickname & Alias)

• Pronouns (choose preset or set your own)

• Gender (male, female & non-binary options)

• Appearance (hair, eye colour, size, body type, scars & more)

• Race: Thao‘Raq

• Personality (influencing events, attitudes & behaviour towards you)

• Vices (choose your poison)

• An inner power yet to identify What else? Different POVs (incl. your ROs POVs)

/// HOW IT ALL BEGAN - YOUR STORY:

/// THE WORLD (MAP WIP)

/// CHARACTERS:

For thy company makes thy destiny:

Several characters that highly influence your path, depending on your relationship and choices. Some of them you‘ll encounter just once, whilst others will be your companions for a long while. But relationships might change, due to events in the past, decisions you made. Beware, character deaths are happening and some consequences will only show in the long run.

Important characters to be announced soon

/// ROMANTIC OPTIONS:

Overall there will be 5 ROs and plenty of short term encounters - see below (Spoiler alert)

RO#1: The royal heir

Princess Sonea - she/her, 1,76m (5'9") Prince Solas - he/him, 1,94m (6'4") - 22yo, straight or gay; race: Human

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

The first time your eyes locked, both your fates were decided. Yet, nobody could have known what consequence just one destined moment would mean for both of you and, further, the whole realm. Will you be each other’s key or knife?

RO#2: The sovereign

Amara Dougal - she/her, 1,81m (5'11") - 31yo, straight or gay, race: Human x Thao‘Raq

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

You were never meant to be more than a tool for them - an interchangeable toy to kill boredom, play a little game of strength, willpower and dominance. Then you managed to surprise them. Was that your plan all along?

Mood Board: here

RO#3: The mage

Jia - she/her, 1,65m (5'5"); he/him, 1,79m (5'10"); they/them, 1,73m (5'8") - 21yo, demi, race: Eirdimon

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

You stumbled into their life, being the first light in a long while. They are grateful for the new perspectives you bring into their life, even though you turn their whole world upside down. Still, they decided to never let you go again.

RO#4: The mercenary

Havu Guillame - she/her, 1,73m (5'8"); he/him 1,87m (6'2") - 26yo, pan, race: Sertynan

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

A rusty knife, straight between their shoulder blades sounded like a much more enjoyable scenario than having to spend time with you. Not because you are exceptionally annoying, which you can be, but because bearing anybody else’s burden is nothing more than a waste of time to them.

RO#5: The knight

Daria Baran - she/her, 1,97m (6'6") Darius Baran - he/him, 2,03m (6'8") - 38yo, straight (?), race: Human

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

Their oath is the reason why they are stuck with you. If it were possible, they would‘ve avoided it as a whole, but it seems carrying your ass around, reminding you of your manners, duties and cleaning the mess you leave behind you, is their painful responsibility now.

/// RACES: Click on each race to find out more

Sertynan (Original purpose: Diplomacy & Peace)

Eirdimon (Original purpose: Creation & Wisdom)

Human soon

Thao‘Raq (Original purpose: Protection & Defense)

>>> physical appearances - race specific: here

/// FLORA & FAUNA:

Buorshik (Lizard)

/// CONTENT WARNING: 🔞 Dark adult fiction

contains mentions of violence, bullying, racism, body horror, torture, gore, medical procedures, death, alcohol, drugs, addiction, abuse, self harm, optional sexual content incl. prostitution.

Full content warning here.

/// LAST UPDATE: 08.04.2024

In early development. DEMO: t.b.a.

Note: Each chapter will be published once it is finished.

[akanemnon]

Since you confirmed that it is possible to open a Dark Fountain and, consequently, create a Dark World in the Underground (but only after the connection between the two worlds has been established), I have some doubts:

1) If someone opened a Dark Fountain (and, therefore, created a Dark World) in Asgore's house, would the resulting Dark World be similar to the Evergreen Empire? My personal theory is that Asgore's house in Undertale is some sort of counterpart to Asgore's shop in Deltarune (just as UT!Toriel's house in the Ruins seems to correspond to DR!Toriel's house in Hometown). For this reason, it would make sense if the two places were at least somewhat similar.

2) Following the reasoning of the first question: if (hypothetically) UT!Asgore had a wedding ring in the house (since, even in the Undertale universe, he and Toriel are divorced), when this new Dark World is created, could a version of Lesslo from Undertale appear?

And if so, would this version be similar or identical to the canon Lesslo? (In my opinion, considering that the canon Lesslo is already an annoying little bitch — probably because of DR!Asgore and DR!Toriel's divorce — I don't dare to imagine what a version of him would be like in the Undertale universe, where UT! Asgore and UT!Toriel had a much more traumatic divorce...)

3) And finally:

Would the six human Souls (who, if I remember correctly, in the Twin Runes canon are called Patches, Nikey, Quaver, Doodle, Sunny and Clover) become Darkners in all respects if this hypothetical Dark World were to be created? Or would they be some sort of hybrid, half Darkner and half Lightner, similar to Chara?

(Sorry for asking so many questions, but I got carried away...)

You are asking me questions that I cannot answer. Mainly because I haven't thought that deep into them. All of this is more of less fan territory. Things for fans to work with if they ever so like to.

[tremendouskoalachild]

Inquisitor Women in Star Wars: a 2024 Summary

while women are underrepresented in the Sith order, the Inquisitorius is quite an egalitarian organization :) let's sum up what we know about these lovely ladies

(spoilers for everything concerning inquisitor characters, including the manner of their death)

2. Second Sister aka Trilla Suduri

Padawan to Cere Junda at the time of Order 66

captured and tortured into joining the Inquisitorius shortly after

dies 5 years later, executed by Vader for her perceived failure

human; age unknown, I'd estimate late teens to mid-twenties at the time of recruitment

created for Jedi: Fallen Order (2019), appeared before the game's release as a cameo in Darth Vader 2017 issue 19 (2018) and as a main character in the game tie-in miniseries Dark Temple. mentioned in Rise of the Red Blade (2023).

ambitious, relentless, a good slicer. wears a full helmet all the time when on the job.

3. Third Sister aka Reva Sevander

12-year-old human youngling at the time of Order 66

joined the organization voluntarily and while hiding her identity, at an unspecified point a relatively short time before 10 years post-Order 66

left the Inquisitorius 10 years after Order 66, after failing to kill Darth Vader and being left to die

created for Obi-Wan Kenobi (2022). not in RotRB, likely due to not yet being a member during the book's timeline. does not appear and isn't mentioned in other canon material, outside of OWK's comic adaptation.

spent 10 years single-mindedly pursuing her goal of revenge. very intense and ambitious. youngest recruit we know of and the only one to have at least a quasi-canon number duplicate (the Third Brother).

4. Fourth Sister aka Lyn Rakish

joined the Inquisitorius around the time of Order 66, apparently of her own free will

species, age and rank at that point unknown, may have been a peer of Barriss or somewhat older

left the Inquisitorius after serving it for over 15 years (actual time unknown but less than 20 years)

created for Obi-Wan Kenobi (2022), part of the main cast in Tales of the Empire (2024), mentioned in RotRB (2023).

dedicated to the organization, pragmatic and better at cooperation than most colleagues.

7. Seventh Sister

joined the Inquisitorius shortly after Order 66, and appears to have been tortured into it

mirialan; age and rank before recruitment unknown, implied she may have been a peer of Aayla Secura or younger

killed in action after serving the Inquisitorius for 16 years

created for Rebels s2 (2015), a minor character with several scenes in Darth Vader 2017, RotRB (2023) and the Inquisitors comic miniseries (2024)

only one on the list without a known name. snarky and flirty with targets. strained relationship with multiple coworkers.

9. Ninth Sister aka Masana Tide

Dowutin, age unknown and hard to estimate

joined the Inquisitorius involuntarily shortly after Order 66, through torture and mutilation

dies 10 years later, killed by her target

created for Darth Vader (2017) as a recurring character. part of the main cast in Jedi: Fallen Order (2019), shows up in Jedi: Survivor (2023), has a part in RotRB (2023) and Inquisitors (2024).

best empath of the Inquisitorius. snarky and jovial even with Darth Vader. very traumatized. keeps losing body parts.

13. Thirteenth Sister aka Iskat Akaris

joined voluntarily after flirting with the dark side for years and being groomed by Palpatine

21-year-old Knight at the time, pkorian (species created for her)

killed 5 years after joining by Vader for perceived disloyalty

created for Darth Vader 2017 issue 19 (2018), main character of novel Rise of the Red Blade (2023)

only inquisitor to have a boyfriend in canon. has a helmet she wears on missions but is pretty laid back about it. only gets her inquisitor name a while into her tenure, so her birth name is known to others.

+ Barriss Offee

former Jedi in Republic prison at the time of joining

agreed to get recruited a short while after Order 66, but left on her first mission after learning more about the organization, never got a proper inquisitor title

mirialan; age unknown but is around the age or slightly older than Ahsoka, 17 year old at the time; would have been 21 according to a non-canon reference book

has existed since 2002 as a background character in the prequels and their now non-canon tie-in novels, her short-lived inquisitor iteration was long rumored and introduced in Tales of the Empire (2024).

[bearw-me]

This is kinda dark so if you don't wanna do it it's cool. Can I request Carmilla running into a son reader? [Years before she had her daughters she had a son but she was too strict/serious on her boy which led to him...taking his own life. The experience made Carmilla realize she mightve been too hard on him so when hid sisters come around she showers them with love] The reader thinks carmilla is going to scold him, scream at him or anything but she just hugs him hard and tells him she's sorry and that she loves him

i'd like to put my author's note up here before you guys read what i wrote/make a little disclaimer!

TW: mentions of harm

I wouldn't write the act, per-se, but i had absolutely no problem with your request because it doesn't really involve those details (fic wise) this one is mostly about comfort and a nice reunion!

just before you go, know your best-friend mal is always here for you <3 this and every other fic i write is my silent love-letter to you

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐨 — 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

𐐒 includes : carmilla carmine x son!reader, odette, clara 𐐒 cw : angst, hugs, kisses, comfort 𐐒 summary : after a few decades in hell, you decide it's time to stop putting it aside and visit your mother for the first time since you've appeared in hell. as anxious as you are, she receives your visit with open arms. 𐐒 word count : 1.1 k

The metal body of the cab rattled against the broken highway, the sights of Pentagon city flashing past you in a pink florescent blur. You sighed, slumping into the leather seats.

Were you really doing this?

The thought made your stomach bubble with new found nerves. Rolling and wrenching the muscles in your stomach so hard you suddenly had to lean forward in your seat. Forced to stare at all the dust and garbage littered about the floor.

"Oh god I'm gonna be sick," you mumbled to yourself.

"Don't throw up in my car kid," the driver growled at you, suddenly adjusting his rearview mirror so that he could keep an eye on you.

You tried not to roll your eyes, taking a quick glance out of the window just in time to witness the change in districts.

"Might wanna keep your head down kid! We're in Carmine's district now," he laughed, a hoarse sound filled with cigarette smoke.

You had never actually been in this part of hell. After all these years you've been here, watching as the districts had shifted between hands in the great soul exchange. . .

All those years until you realized she had fallen here just like you.

And you didn't really know how to process that thought just yet.

The once chaotic district was now more silent.

Shadows skulking between buildings and alleyways, making deals to sell weapons and bartering for money.

You grimaced, opting to let those images blur in your mind and let your head fall against the rattling window.

What possessed you to see your mother after all these year? Who knows. . .

It just felt like it had to be done.

Soon, the tall white building had come into view, a place you heard the overlords of hell met up.

And today, Carmilla would be here, same with your-. . .

Odette and Clara.

You stepped out of the cab, soles hitting the pavement with a tap. You paid what you owed to the driver and waved a quick thanks as he sped off, the devil on his heels.

That left you alone, standing like David against Goliath with the empire she had built.

She's. . . kept herself busy.

It's all you could think about. Staring at the gleaming tiles of the building with hesitance.

What would she say to you? Should you have told her you were coming? That you were here?

The sickness that seemed to be plaguing you had come back in waves.

The last time you had remembered seeing her, you were both alive on Earth, screaming at each others faces.

"One day, mi hijo, you will have to do everything for yourself! You will have to take over the business! YOU have to carry all that burdens us and I NEED you to be ready for that! Why can't you just see that! I won't always be here for you! YOU NEED TO STEP UP TO THIS!"

But. . .

You just couldn't do everything she had wanted of you. The standards, the rules, the burden. . . it was all too heavy for one person to carry.

And now here you were, on the white-waiting room couch unannounced.

To sayy. . . what exactly?

You bit at your nails in thought, leg bouncing up and down as you waited for your name to be called.

It was pretty empty today.

No one was really sitting in here with you.

That was a great thought.

A deep, strung-out exhale shook its way out of your lungs.

Nerves, you figured.

You didn't even know what to do with your hands, running them through your hair and rocking back and forth in your seat, wondering if it was too late to just stand up and leave-

"Um. . ." You stopped completely, turning your head towards the sound of your voice.

Just before the office doors, two small sinners stood side by side, holding a clipboard up to their faces as they eyed you with surprise.

Odette and Clara.

There was no mistaking them.

"That's. . . me?" You rose from your seat like a ghost, not really feeling anything but utter surprise.

It was the first time you've ever seen them. The same cream colored hair, the same eyes, they even stood en pointe like her.

Odette and Clara.

"Come with us," Clara beckoned, her curly hair and grey skin. . . did she look like that too? Now that she was a sinner?

Thank goodness the girls turned away from you quickly, giving you just enough time to wipe a stray tear from your eye. Estranged siblings that you've never even met. . . and you were so full of emotion at just the sight of them.

Did they know who you were?

You watched them wearily, the two exchanging quick glances at each other and occasionally, at you.

"She's right in here," Clara trailed off.

Odette glanced at you through her round glasses, a hint of worry lifting her eyebrows up "She wasn't expecting you today."

"Alright," you shrugged. I mean, it was a fact you already knew, but to hear the two of them say it to you was the final slap of reality you weren't sure you entirely needed.

The two of them opened the doors for you, watching intently as you shuffled into the room, and back at each other incredulously.

"Ay dios mio, I said I didn't have time for meetings. . ." you heard her mumble, face covered by a laptop screen, hunched over and lost in her work.

It was how you remembered her.

"Mamá," you called out, finally taking a seat in front of her desk, unsure of who or what you'd find on the other side of that screen.

With that one word, she froze still, a pair of demonic red eyes peering over the top of that silver screen.

"Mamá," you said again, a choked sound now that you realized it was her.

It was actually her.

A sinner, your mother, an overlord, who was finally before you.

It was like all the things you had planned on telling her had thrown themselves together and crumbled beneath the sight of her.

"Mi hijo."

"Mamá, I know you're mad at me," the tears came without warning, and you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, unable to keep looking at her as the sobs wracked through your body, pleading for her forgiveness "I tried my best! I tried! I-"

"Mi hijo, I'm so sorry," your mother flew into your arms, the familiarity of her love so striking that you became undone in her arms.

She cried into your neck, a sound you've never heard before "Oh mi hijo, no heavens could ever keep me away from you, never, and I and never letting you go again,"

"I love you mi hijo."

[jedimasterbailey]

Tales of the Empire Thoughts (Mostly About Barriss)

I know I’m a little late to the party in terms of laying out my thoughts on Tales of the Empire but honestly I needed a few days to process and digest what happened (not to mention being on vacation delayed that process as well). Obviously as a Barriss stan/fanfic writer/blogger y’all know that those episodes were the upmost priority for me and I will be rewatching those episodes on repeat like no other since it’s been far too long since Barriss has had her time to shine. 

The majority of this post will be centered around those specific episodes because I’m just gonna just go ahead and say that the Morgan Elsbeth episodes were boring and didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know about the character. Also the bullshit reasoning as to why Morgan doesn’t obviously look Dathomiran is so dumb in that my brain will malfunction if I think about it too much. If the “magic going away” thing was true then how do you explain Merrin and Ventress who still have power and retain their clear Dathomiran appearance? Either way, there is no way Darth Felonious could explain his “logic” to me there because it is all too clear that Morgan was never meant to be Dathomiran in the first place. She was just a bad lady with a spear and that’s that. Love the actress, but the character is just lame. Furthermore, it is so clear that the hat man knows absolutely nothing about Thrawn and I’m not even a Thrawn stan but why even if the guy involved if he just says a few words and leaves? Now before y’all come for me, yes I’m aware these episodes are shorts and the time is precious but to me they could have dedicated more time into explaining to me why Morgan is so loyal to Thrawn. Her reasoning for wanting to join the Empire is empty too in that the Separatists that annihilated her race is now the Empire so…to me that’s not enough reasoning for Morgan to be so dedicated. The only parts that had me engaged were the Grevious bits which were both beautiful and frightening at the same time.

Now onto the meat which is the Barriss arc which has me both elated and frustrated at the same time. Let’s begin with the stuff I absolutely love.

1.) Barriss proving herself to not be committed to the Dark Side/Empire is a huge win for me and other Barriss super fans who have been preaching this for over a decade. We knew from the moment the trailer came out that Barriss was just going to do what it took to survive and even though she was forced into doing things she really did not want to do, she stayed true to herself and escaped before it was too late. The light in her never left nor did it ever leave her and I just know that Luminara would have been so proud of her. Barriss constantly questioning the Grand Inquisitor and the Fourth Sister had me smiling because that is just Barriss. She will always question things that seem off and will defend her beliefs and values no matter what the danger to herself may be. The line of reclaiming her position of a Jedi is my absolute favorite line and gave me all the feels I get whenever Luke tells Palpatine that he is a Jedi like his father. On a final note, I loved that she showed genuine concern/fear for what was happening to the Jedi when Order 66 was happening and demanded an answer. 

2.) Barriss being a healer and a protector. It is so satisfying to see it canon on screen that Barriss remains to be a healer after years of being obsessed with the Legends Medstar lore. I absolutely loved that Barriss took off her mask to the terrified boy in the village and protected him against the Fourth Sister’s unnecessary wrath only to save the non-binary (yay representation!) Jedi from death later that day. It all just makes me so happy to get that validation that Barriss has always had a big heart which makes her stand out from other Jedi in my opinion. 

3.) Barriss sporting that lesbian pixie cut with the adorable laugh/smile lines and being a healer in the mountains helping Force sensitive and the sick/injured just makes my day. It warms my heart to see Barriss be at peace and doing so much good after so much pain and trauma from her past. Though I do miss her hood and would like to see a head covering on her again. Also doing the math, Barriss should be in her thirties during the third episodes so why did they age her up so much? I’ve heard the theory of the Force healing taking her life force but damn Luminara was in her late thirties during the Clone Wars and she had like nothing 😅 One other note that makes me smile is that Barriss is referred to as a “wise mother” and that’s just everything.  Also she looks and acts like just like Luminara they truly could be mother and daughter it’s so sweet 💚💙

4.) Barriss defeating an Inquisitor without a weapon of her own and catching a blade with the Force is so fucking badass, I could re-watch that sequence on repeat forever. 

5.)The vague Ahsoka mention had my Barrissoka heart exploding. I demand an animated Barrissoka show immediately. 

Now here are the bits that have me frustrated and I demand that Darth Felonious fixes them later.

1.) The lack of closure between Barriss and Ahsoka/Luminara. Barriss hurt a lot of people from her actions but at the very least it would be nice to see her repair the damage she inflicted on the people closest to her. We never saw anything in regards to Luminara’s reaction to the bombing and knowing what gruesome fate awaits her in Rebels, I was so hoping the two would meet again, make amends before Luminara inevitably sacrificed herself as a final act of love and forgiveness for her Padawan. As for Ahsoka…if the two are able to work together in the future, could we at least see how exactly that came to be? I’m personally growing tired of major developments happening off-screen and we as an audience are just expected to roll with it. Again I’m aware these are shorts, but why do they have to be shorts? Why can’t we just delete the boring Morgan episodes and get like a movie or limited series on this exact journey? 

2.) The return of yet another ambiguous ending for Barriss. I am a firm believer that Barriss is alive granted that people seem to get stabbed all the time in Star Wars and they get to live so why not Barriss? I understand what they’re doing with Barriss getting through to the Fourth Sister to show us that Barriss has come full circle in her journey from dark to light, however since I’m forced to believe that Barriss had some sort of relationship with this random Inquisitor pre-Empire instead of someone who did have a significant relationship to her, it falls flat for me and it enrages me that if Barriss were to die from this….well I just don’t have words for that. So now I’m wondering if I’m going to have to wait another 10 years to get answers. Thank the Force for fanfic and fanart to get me through. 

3.) Does Barriss even know what the Empire did her Master? Because… I feel that’s another huge story thats being missed here. Ahsoka was able to get some closure with Anakin, why can’t Barriss have the same with Luminara? 

4.) Never getting anything in terms of what pushed Barriss to bomb the Jedi temple in the first place. That’s my biggest beef with the original Clone Wars series since we see no development as to how Barriss goes from a kind gifted Padawan healer to mastermind of a terror plot. That could a book or show on its own. 

5.) Star Wars continuing to miss what a satisfying redemption arc is. Not only do we need to understand what got a character to do the crime(s) but we need to see the growth that comes from it. That’s what makes the Obi-Wan Kenobi show so good to me is that I now know how Obi-Wan grew from RotS to where we meet him in ANH. I would love to see the same for Barriss, because you just know she’s been on very spiritual/emotional journey to get to where she was at the end of the show. 

6.) Why was Vader even in this? Given the history Barriss and Anakin share, it is incredible that nothing happened between them post ROTS. And this is like fresh Vader still full of grief and anger by what’s happened so I doubt seeing Barriss even as an Inquisitor initiate would be anymore soothing. I just don’t understand…what a waste. Something more epic and cathartic could have come out of that interaction.

Well I’m done ranting for now, I’m curious to know what your guy’s thoughts are. Otherwise my brain is buzzing with fanfic story ideas and I’ll be getting back on the writing horse as I re-Watch the Barriss episodes into oblivion. 

[eats-all-your-shoes]

A FEW HERMITCRAFT FIC RECS BECAUSE THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH FIC REC POSTS!! (mostly alternate universes because i love aus SO much)

Alternate Perspectives by Boxmaker: Etho & Beef, Etho & Bdubs & Beef, Cub & Scar. Complete, 71k

[Etho is just an exceptionally normal guy living his best life. Until he becomes one of the few people to gain superpowers and gets approached with an enticing offer…

He's in over his head, isn't he?

Or: My Etho-centric atypical take on a superpower au, which devolves into something much bigger]

(i LOVE ethos powers in this it’s so cool)

Humanity (yours makes me sob) by Anonymous Bdubs & Mumbo, Bdubs & Xisuma, Bdubs & Etho, Mumbo & Xisuma Complete, 2.2k

[What defines a human?

Bdubs used to know, he doesn't anymore.

------

Bdubs is a human who lost what made him human sometime in his life. Mumbo accidentally finds it with a few words and an illness.]

Ties That Bind and Beseech Thy Soul by Interjection Grian & Mumbo, Grian & Taurtis Complete, 6.1k

[There's a doll with no face save for two black eyes that seem to pierce your soul. A doll with a red sweater and dark jeans and an even darker stare. A doll that inspires terror and curiosity and hope.

They may have underestimated the ease of containment for this one. Certainly, a select few individuals seem to believe so.]

(SCP crossover, though i don’t think much knowledge of scp is needed for this!!)

Documents Recovered From The Hermittopia Exclusion Zone, Joe Hills-Centric Complete, 2.9k

The descendants of Empires have contained and secured a reality-breaking tower from the age of myth. One day, a message from an ancient cosmonaut appears, as though flung between dimensions. This message begins:

Howdy, y’all! Joe Hills here, writing as I always do from a doomed world.

Long experience has taught me that all worlds are ultimately doomed, so that’s not an especially cool or helpful thing to say. Do you know the saying that goes: "If all your stories end with, 'and then something bad happened for no reason', maybe you’re the problem"? It’s good to keep in mind but I’m pretty confident it’s not relevant to this particular situation.

First, I do my best to spread sunshine wherever I go, not cataclysm. Second, in this case, the doom is clear and imminent! The moon is about to crash into the earth.]

(another SCP crossover, little/no knowledge of the foundation is needed, this is SO GOOD. SUCH A BANGER.)

Human Faces (in human places) by KiwiFruitWritings, Bdubs & Etho, Etho & Xisuma Complete, 9.7k

[On season eight of Hermitcraft, the moon's slow approach means that the night isn't really all that dark, anymore.

This proves to be problematic for some people. Bdubs suffers keenly from insomnia, and Etho struggles a bit more than the average person without a proper shadow.

These struggles lead to problems, principle of which is thus: no one knows what's behind Etho's mask- except Etho.]

(cryptid etho my BELOVEDD)

So, what’s with the coat? by dry_toast Etho & Bdubs, Etho & Beef, Etho & Bdubs & Beef Complete, 2.4k

[Bdubs wonders about the winter coat that Etho always wears]

(this entire series is so good!! and everything the author does too)

attempt thirty-three by Bee_4 Joe & Cleo, Joe & Scar, Joe & Cub Complete, 13k

[A glimpse at the thirty-third time Joe Hills has woken up on Monday at 6:00 AM, and the attempt he makes to stop doing that, ideally, or at least get closer to a state where he doesn't have to live these four days ever again.]

(AAAAAA LOVE THIS!!! and everything bee writes really)

Battle Scars by Riacte False & Ren & Hbomb & Fruitberries, False & Ren, Everyone & Everyone 26/?, 169k

[They are the crafters, the designers, stuck in 3-H, in the "H as in the Hermit" class. Discriminated and bullied by all those above them just because they're bad at sports. Everybody ignores, underestimates, and laughs at them. They are easy targets, the weaklings, the jokes of this damned school that’s ruled over by Stanley “Stan” Twitt.

Until four people get sick of it all.

Minecraft Championship never saw this coming.

-

A dramatic retelling of the MCC9 Blue Bats' legendary victory in fanfiction form. Hermit centric]

(long read but WORTH IT)

[swtechspecs]

ZZ-4Z (Serv-O-Droid, Inc. JV-Z1/D Butler Droid)

Source: The Essential Guide to Droids (Del Rey, 1999)

[luvly-writer]

XOXO 💋

Ch. 2: She is as beautiful as she is poisonous

-•-

Tim Drake x reader

Fic + Social Media Au

Warnings: Blackmail, she’s a bitch a first, get to know her

Series: Ongoing

Author’s note: Enjoy! Feel free to leave feedback! It is always appreciated <3

Taglist: Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Masterlist:

How difficult Christmas time must be for all of those on the Upper East Side?

"Honestly, Tini, what do you get a woman who practically owns everything? I swear I have no idea what to get my mother for Christmas!" Y/n spoke on the phone as she carried quite a few bags in her arms. Dior, Channel, Yves Saint Laurent, if it's expensive and you can name it, it's there. "And to be even more honestly, I regret going Christmas shopping the same day Bartie is doing groceries. Seriously, I should learn to coordinate with my butler better, balancing all of this is getting preeetty difficult" she complained as she rearranged her bags again. "I didn't take the limo because I wanted some fresh air, you know how I get when it gets too stuffy" she laughed as she began to search for her purse. Because of so, she wasn't able to see the tired young man walking directly towards her. "It's silly, I know but- HEY!" and down she went with all her bags.

Tim had had a rough day. Between waking up to Dick and Jason singing Baby its cold Outside highly off-key just to piss off Bruce for making them patrol on one of the coldest nights of the year without their thermal suits; his secretary forgetting to send him a copy of the agenda for today's meeting causing him to practically have to improvise most of his points; Damian appearing on his office and refusing to leave his chair trying to establish dominance for "his future empire" to which if Tim had a say, he would absolutely not get if he kept on acting like this; and finally, with Steph who insisted they went Christmas shopping today only to ditch him and leave him stranded in the middle of the street with all of their presents with the excuse of having to repaint her closet which only translates to "I'm getting your present so bye bye". He was completely exhausted and the stitches on his shoulder were getting more painful by the hour with the cold. He had decided to get some coffee at a cafe down by Wellington Street and had been too caught on his thoughts to see where he was going.

//THUD//

"Hey!"

Tim's and Y/n's bags, both shopping and personal, simultaneously fell, getting mixed up in the way. Both reached down to catch their stuff as fast as they could.

"Sorry, I was-"

" not paying attention, yes I figured. S, I'll call you later, I have a little situation here. "

Tim was taken aback by the attitude he received from this random stranger...this totally absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous stranger who just so happens to not be a stranger at all. If all of his years being lectured about the hierarchy of the Upper East Side had served correctly, he was standing in front of one of the heiress of the city, Y/n Vanderbilt and she was the most dazzling woman he had ever seen...and just as bothered as she was gorgeous.

"Yeah" he said breathlessly, "that" Could he sound any dumber.

"Yes, That. Ugh! The ONE time I get out without Bartie and this happens. How many of these are yours?" said Y/n without looking up. She hadn't recognized him yet and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. Finally, their eyes met and she raised her delicate eyebrow at him and he swore his heart stopped for a second. "Have we met before?" she asked after taking a good look at him. He sure was handsome as hell. Pale skin, dark hair which was a little bit messy but it suited him, sharp suit and even sharper blue eyes who she swore she had seen before.

"Timothy, Timothy Drake Wayne" he replyed cooly.

"Hmm, a Wayne adoptee and a Drake socialite, Gotham Academy?"

"Yes, but I-"

"-Dropped out, yes. Yes, you did, I remember reading the news. Dropped out to become the CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

"Funny" he laughs out getting up after making sure that all of his stuff was there and then looking up at her. "Can't recognize me but seems to know all my business, miss Vanderbilt." he said snarkly.

"Important enough to know, yet simultaneously not enough to get to actually know" she said with a wolfish smile. Touche.

Y/n checked all her bags and smiled to herself. "Well then, mister Drake Wayne, lovely to meet you. Watch your step next time." She said as she looked at him dead in the eye. "Have a nice day, Timothy."

And she walked away, leaving him dumbfounded watching her go.

"Tim Tim Tim! You will not believe the boots i just got! They are sooooo comfortable and warm for night patrol. My toes were freezing last night....Tim? Hey, what's wrong? You have a dazed look in your eyes?

"I think I just met the love of my life...and shes kind of a bitch." said Tim, making Stephanie laugh and link her arms with his.

"Let's go hide these and you can tell me all about the supposed love of your life."

-•-

Y/n paced around her room trying to see where she would hide her presents. Shopping had helped distract her mind from the matter that had been plaguing her mind these last few days. Most of the bags had been cleared by now and she only had three left. As she cleared her final bag, she noticed something strange. Two files. She takes them out curious to see what these are. "Can't be part of my gifts...hmm...let's see"

She opens the first one and sees it is directed to Red Robin?

"What...?" she whispered to herself. "Ivy's exploits on the newest power plant close to Gotham Central Park make a solid case worth observation. Following up on her latest attacks with the reports of Red Hood and Black Bat, we begin suspecting where her next attack will play out....holy shit" Y/n whispered in amazement. She then looked at the rest of the file. Some red yarn here and there. A mixture of scribbles and computer manuscripts. Folded papers and a lot of red ink.

Then she looked at the next folder, a meeting agenda filled with notes directed to one Tim Drake Wayne..."wait a minute.."

These are directed to the same IP address..with the same handwriting, including the signatures...

"Tim Drake Wayne is Red Robin"Y/n smirked, "I believe I found a solution to my little problem"

Y/N went to get her cellphone quick and marked her driver's number. "Donnie, get the car ready, we have a little visit to make"

------

"Where is it?" Tim searched frantically throughout his apartment. In his work bag, there were two very important files. The first being the final agenda of the meeting he had today with all of the notes he took which he needed right now in order to send it back to his secretary. If she wasn't so busy making googly eyes at him, he wouldn't have to waste time on the job and focus on the case. Speaking off, Tim decided to search for that file and found that it was also missing. "Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, if Bruce doesn't kill me, Batman will for loosing those two things. Where are those fucking THINGS?" If his apartment was a mess before, it was even worse now.

Thankfully, fate is such a humorous thing.

//kmock, knock, knock//

Close to a breakdown out of frustration, Tim walks towards the door only to be pleasantly surprised by a face that had not left his mind.

"Miss Vanderbilt, what a lovely surprise" said Tim as he opened the door, letting the young girl walk in.

"Yes, just as lovely as this apartment. Are you always this well kept?" She responded with sass. Making Tim chuckle, "No, but i made sure to decorate it like this just in case there was a posibility of a pretty Vanderbilt showing up."

"Funny, that won't last long." She said with a tight smile. "I'm here for business."

"What ever business could you have with a Wayne? Our parents are business partners, so there is not related to networking. You have much more money than all of my family combined, so it isn't that. Status won't be either, you are practically modern day royalty. So, what could it be? What..could..it..be?" he said aproaching her. He may be lacking 48 hours worth of sleep, but the detective in him was up and on high alert. You were picking the skin around your nails and your nose had this adorable twitch that could only mean nervousnes and the look in your eye was cunning with a tinge of desesperation. What could Y/n Vanderbilt want from him?

"I need you to be my fake boyfriend."

Tim had always been proud of being observant and with that, came the ability to not be surprised yet, never in his 22 years of life did he think that he'd have Y/n Vanderbilt, THE Y/n Vanderbilt, asking him to fake date her in HIS apartment.

"What's in it for me?" he asked skeptical of the situation.

"My silence, Robin Boy" she said as she got the two files he had been frantically searching for this entire time and showed them to him. "And don't try to deny it, the handwriting is the same, I had the pleasure of taking DNA samples and they match, and have seen enough videos to be well aware that you have the same body type. Oh and worry not, only i’m aware of this information. Unlike Miss Vale, I do have various PI's on speed dial, and the weight of the Vanderbilt name, so any information out of me will be credible." She said with a pretty smile.

"Pretty, cunning, and poisounus. Who would have throught." He said, not confirming nor denying anything.

"And I am sure Daddy Brucie dearest, would just love finding out one of his little birdlings let the family secret out, wouldn’t he?" she said looking at him dead in the eye.

Tim felt his heart stop. She knew about all of them.

"You have until monday, lover boy. My phone number is written in there. Call me when you have made up your mind and if you accept, make sure you clear up your schedule cause that meeting will take a long time. Kisses" She ended as she handed the files to Tim and saw herself out.

"This is officially THE worst and simultaneously best day ever" He said as he threw himself on the couch.

[creabirds]

creabird's fics master post

charles/max

your heart, love (has such darkness) | chaptered fic, roman empire inspired fantasy au, enemies to lovers, rated e, 48k [fic post | fanart]

“Who did this to you?“ The question escaped Max in a low growl, sounding more animal than human. Charles’ eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Your men,“ he answered, as if it was obvious. And it was. “No, who exactly?“ Max hissed, “because I ordered them not to hurt you and I will cut their fucking heads off for defying their commands.“ The provinces' war against the empire has been raging for years, but finally, Max Verstappen and his rebel army are close to bringing their enemies to their knees. The dire situation has the empire's most powerful warrior, Charles Leclerc, il predestinatio, running right into Max's arms in an attempt to stop him before it's too late. Max wants the empire's darling for himself, but their relationship is much more complex than that of a villain and hero, king and concubine. Though Charles is chained and collared, nothing is really as it seems.

bare your teeth verse | on-going series, a/b/o drivers au, enemies to lovers, rated e, 3-4k each [fic post | fanart]

part one: see me bare my teeth for you

It has been five years since Max gave Charles his mating bite on a rainy day in Val d'Argenton. Five years of Charles keeping his head down and ignoring it had ever happened. Until the day he set foot in the paddock, freshly signed to drive in F2, his dreams becoming true. Only there is one problem: his mate is too close for his body not to react.

part two: bound with the curse don't want this bubble to burst

Charles has finally made it to Formula 1. But reaching this milestone forces him closer to Max than ever before. On and off the track - they fight, and they clash. Grudging acceptance bubbles over into rage once again after the 2019 Austrian Grand Prix, with Charles on Max's private jet and nowhere to run.

part three: it feels better biting down

Charles has not stepped foot outside of his apartment for the entirety of the lockdown. He has not seen anyone, especially not Max, so he is shocked to find him attempting to break his door down, deep in his rut and desperate to get his hands on Charles. For once, the tables have turned and Max is the one out of his mind with want.

part four: i cut my teeth on people like you

Ever since spending his rut with Charles, Max's jealousy has been going haywire. It doesn't help that their relationship is more strained than ever. Winning his first championship and seeing his omega congratulating his biggest rival instead of him is the final straw.

late night devil (put your hands on me) | one-shot, vampire/priest au, rated e, 5k [fic post | inspo art | fanart]

Welcome to the Halloween Special! “Don’t worry, I’m a priest here at St. Fiacre, you are very welcome. I can call for a doctor in the morning, as well,” Max explained. As he turned towards the man, coming eye to eye with him for the first time he was suddenly struck by the beauty of him. “It is not that, I would love to come in,” the man offered, a shy smile curling over his mouth and creating a set of dimples on its corners. Max tried not to stare. “However, I simply cannot. I am not allowed, so to speak,” he explained. “What,” Max looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Why?” The man flashed a broad smile and Max could not avoid looking. What he saw were fangs.

the world is so much wilder than you think (all the mermaids have sharp teeth) | chaptered fic, siren charles au, get-together, rated e, 22k

Charles' eyes focussed on him, bright green, not in a scary, alien way, but more like the sunlight had caught in his irises, making them appear brighter and more saturated than usual. Only there was no sun. It was the middle of the night. Max felt an itch in his fingers and feet, as if he was being pulled forward magnetically. Charles blinked again, and it was gone. Max sat back on the chair with a grunt. He hadn’t noticed he had been in the process of standing up. “What?” he asked, not even sure what exact question to phrase. “Oh, you know, this is the part where you find out that supernatural creatures exist?”

i'm starving, darling (come and get some) | series, grid slut charles au, rated e, 5k

Well, it wasn’t like he was actively looking at his ass. It just seemed to always be in his line of sight. Like in Baku, when Max couldn’t stop himself from constantly glancing over to where Charles and Checo stood waiting for him to finish his interview because Charles kept dropping things. His racing-driver-instinct-eyes had immediately snapped over to the exaggerated movements in his peripheral vision and he couldn’t even tell what exactly it was Charles dropped because all he could see was a full view of butt in a fire-red racing suit. Max had considered whether he had gone insane and had started hallucinating due to a recent lack of sexual gratification (sue him, but he was a busy man) and Charles’ proximity and relative attractiveness (it was off the charts). And now this. Max was finally, thoroughly convinced. He’s doing this on purpose, he thought. His phone pinged with a message.

called to the devil (and the devil said hey) | one-shot, charles goes to red bull au, get-together, rated e, 16k

Charles joins Red Bull in 2025 in the hopes of finally winning the championship in a reliable car. Max is a suspiciously supportive teammate. Or: Max Verstappen's very secret retirement plan.

charles/max/carlos

hot in it (no stopping it) | series, grid slut charles au, threesome, rated e, 5k

14:43 [from Max Verstappen] [image attached] come over and bring a long pair of pants for charlie Carlos opened the message to view the picture and had to suppress a groan, lest the mechanics next to him would suspect anything. It was a shot of Charles, he recognized by his bright red shorts, even shorter now that they were pushed up and bunched around his upper thighs by a big hand that could only belong to Max. Beneath Max’s hand was an angry-red looking bite mark. The perfectly straight row of teeth indented into the skin was easily recognizable.

charles/carlos

maneater (make you spend hard) | series, grid slut charles au, rated e, 2k

“Do you like getting head, Carlos?” he asked, then. He had never claimed to be smooth nor subtle. He watched as Carlos’ eyes became comically wide before he narrowed them again, staring at Charles intently. “What?” “Blowjobs? Getting your dick sucked?” Charles tried again, a sly smile on his face, being very aware that Carlos’ question might not have been due to a lack of understanding of the terminology used at all. Carlos blinked at him and he swore the blush on his cheeks got a tad bit darker. “I mean— yes, doesn’t everyone?” he rasped, voice slightly airy. Charles’ tongue slipped out to wet his lips and he watched Carlos’ eyes flit down and back up to his eyes in a matter of milliseconds. “Sure,” he hummed, “but I also like giving it,” he grinned.

charles/grid

greed (i want it all right now) | one-shot, sex pollen, magical pussy, gangbang, dead dove for dubious consent, rated e, 9k [fic post]

Charles has to sneeze, and laughs. His Secret Santa seems to have had his fun with it, adding some fake snow to douse him in. He does not notice the nervous glances the producers behind the camera share. He reads the card, out loud, but falters as he tries to process what is written there in elegant cursive. “Since you are a lazy gift giver I will help you out this year,” it says. Charles furrows his brows. Or: Charles wakes up with a pussy. The grid is delighted.

yuki/pierre

inches in between us (i want you to give in) | one-shot, friends to lovers, rated e, 8k

4 times yuki sent pierre into gay panic + the one time he gave in alternative title: yuki being outrageous and pierre losing his shit (canon)

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Memento Mori

type: smut warning(s): explicit descriptions, this is filth, an dark, and a bit sinister word count: 3.3k words summary: As Grim Reaper Azriel is absolutely not amused to find out about a young healer, saving his already claimed souls from dying. He comes to find you, to have a word with you. He does not know what expects him.  Once again thank you to @moonlightazriel for placing this thought in my mind <3

-all rights reserved-

He comes for everyone — the rich, the poor, the strong, the weak, those who suffer, those who do not expect. He cuts your thread, you are his, his to claim. He will come for you at night, find you at day, curl his cold, scarred fingers around your trembling body, take you with him.

You are his from then on. He, whose name is unknown to mortals, goes on the hunt, every day, every hour, to find his victims, his new prey.

No pleading, no begging helps—he is merciless, ruthless, cruel, cold. And what he wants, he gets.

The echoes of his former claims, the pleas for just a day longer, one moment, another chance, hollow in the mind of the angel of Death, Azriel. He leaves his empire of claimed souls, long cloak gliding over the floor like a shadow, rustling on the ground.

One dark winter’s night his target is something new, something that makes his blood boil, his cold skin grow hot. Fueled by anger he is driven to the mortal lands once again.

You make his blood boil—a mortal who challenges Death, makes fun of him by saving people, saving them from death, bringing them back to life.

His balance is out of control and if there is one thing Azriel cannot stand then it is losing control. You make him lose control, and he doesn’t even know you in person yet. He does not know what will expect him when he lays eyes on you, when his soul for the first time in centuries starts glowing, yearning. His balance is shaken and that only through a mortal?

The knock of death against your door is soft, yet powerful. You don’t even have to ponder, having already expected the male hidden behind his shadows. Confident steps carry you to the door where you peek through a tiny hole in the wood. His face is veiled in shadows, his hat drawn, a dark cloak completing his appearance. 

You draw in a deep breath, readying yourself for your very first encounter with Him—the Lord of Death. Azriel, born of shadow and darkness. 

And then your own fingers curl around the cool handle, almost teasingly, like you’re a playing death once again, you open the door, your eyes lifting to the covered face, the male looming over you. His face is shielded, yet his eyes, the deep hazel, stand out—are a stark contrast to his appearance. They pierce right into your soul and you know that in this very moment Death knows what you have done in your life. Every good and every bad deed, it is all revealed to him.

Icy cold creeps into your skin, almost making it burn. You can see your breath, can feel your heart beat in your throat. It is true what they say, his biting grip starts when you make eye contact with him.

Your voice is a breathy whisper, in his ears the most erotic sound he has ever heard, when you say, “I was expecting you, Lord of Death.”

Azriel is not too fond of this feistiness. He does not like it when people are not scared, when they don’t run and beg. It makes his anger increase that your are so confident, so cocky, so feisty.

He is so very angry and all of a sudden thoughts of how he could punish you for that flood his mind. None of these things only partly scrape the thought of taking your life. He is beyond that. He wants to do other things to you, he wants you to beg for other things, plead and cry when he his moving inside of you. These thoughts that are so obscene and lewd, his cock strains against his tight pants, making an ache and longing appear that he has never felt before.

Another thing he hates because this is also what losing control feels like. His rising lust only fuels his anger, his desire making it so hard to breathe that his voice is ragged and raspy when the next words leave his mouth. “How dare you?”

Azriel takes a step closer, his jaw clenched, his eyes like burning flames.

“How dare you be so fearless in the eyes of Death? So reckless? I’ve known you are one of the bad kind, but you are even worse.” His voice is a cold, rough growl that has your insides clenching, your toes curling and you accept this challenge, inviting Death inside your home.

“You may enter, Lord of Death.” And with that you step back, allowing the cold and darkness to fill every little corner of your home.

You allow him your entrance? It feels like the greatest mockery he has ever experienced.

He sweeps in, his dark cloak moving over the ground like a wave of darkness. His presence immediately fills the interior of your little hut, power stretching out like a dark cloud, his cold curling around your spine. But it is his darkness that thrills you, that you want to consume you.

The male, so tall, looming over you, makes a sharp spin and pins you with his gaze. For a moment you find yourself unable to look away, to think, to breathe. All your attention goes to his piercing eyes, flames of hazel burning in them. 

“Why are you not afraid, mortal?” The Lord of Death spits his questions like the words taste foul on his tongue. “Because I am not scared of a man whose only job is to claim those who have no choice, those who suffer, those who—“ The shadowy male cuts you off, hurdling towards you so quickly you have not seen it coming. The is a moment of taunting and teasing, you circle each other, until he cradles your face in his icy, scarred hand, glaring deep into your eyes, your soul. 

“I am keeping balance. And I claim all of them. All of you. All mortals. The suffering, the happy ones, the kind ones, the bad ones.” He puts stress on bad, nearing your face, but before he can make any further move bindings snap up from the ground, curling around his wrists, by magic a chair moves forward, the bindings pull him down, restraining him. 

You grin in triumph.

“You—“ he hisses. “How dare you defy me, mortal filth. Release me!”

Eyes aglow, Death scans your body with a predatory gaze. 

“Release me!” His voice is louder than expected, the deep tenor hollering through your hut.

But you withstand the rising threat, the rising angst, slowly creeping into your body. You clamp it down. You withstand it—you withstand him. The corners of your lips curl upwards, you are at an advantage, you have him exactly where you want him. He will be the one begging, pleading…for your mercy. “As I said, I am not scared of Death. Having conquered him many times already.”

You add and extra sway to your hips when you waddle over to the male, grinning delightedly. “I am not afraid of you.” 

And although this sentence is a mockery and he should feel angry and violent, his heart warms at that, his heart beating frantically. You are not afraid. You are not afraid of death. Of him. 

Everyone has always been afraid of him. Not you. You are not scared—not even in his presence. It is this knowledge, this knowledge that no matter what he will do you won’t scare of him, that makes him want to lose control. That makes him feel alright with this loss of control. He wants to be submissive for you. He likes that you have taken control of this situation.

Azriel's head tips back an inch, his chest heaving when your scent of life, of night, of forest, fills his nostrils. You place a knee on the chair between his thighs, your hands moving to his shoulders.

This is the last push he needs to fully give into you, to fully give himself to you. You are not afraid to touch him. Everyone has always backed away from touching his icy surface, scared they might die right where they were.

Death has never had a lover, has never had any intimate encounters, but he knows exactly how he would take you that night, how he would worship you. 

Azriel groans lowly, when intentionally or not your knee slides closer. He squeezes his eyes shut, releasing a shuddering breath. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Not a question, but a command that leaves room for interpretation. 

Your hand brushes over his shoulders, the lapels of his cloak. You can feel his cold skin underneath, wanting nothing more than to let your palms glide over it. You have no idea what he does to you, why you want him so much. It feels like some primal need is finally awakened, yearning and longing filling every fiber of your body. Voluntarily or not your arch into him, nearly coming in contact with his chest. “I want you to stop claiming the lives of those who have done nothing in their life to deserve it. Who have not gotten a chance to live. Children, babies.”

“It is not my decision to make!”

That makes you angry and you grit your teeth, leaning closer. You grasp his hat from his head, tossing it away and fully revealing his stunning face. Cruel beauty.  

“It is! Don’t you have a heart?” Azriel’s fingers curl towards his palms, stuck on the armrest of the chair. 

“I do have a heart!” he spits and wants to add, that it is finally beating, beating for you and you only. Filling with warmth for the first time in centuries. Not the only body part that is filled with warmth. His cock throbs with need, a painful ache behind his all of a sudden so tight pants.

“It is to keep the balance. When the—“ “Fuck the balance. You take children away from their mothers, their fathers. Their hearts are ripped open without hope for repair.” Tears dwell in your eyes at the thought of your neighbour, losing her one year old. Fury burns it way through your body, your skin is on fire when your fingers curls around Azriel’s throat. He meets your gaze, nostrils flared, eyes ablaze. 

“I was going to say that when the fates cut their life thread I am coming to claim them. It is not me who makes this decision. And it is never ever easy to take a child, just so you know. I might have thought you think that I find incredibly pleasure in taking children away from their parents.”

That…you haven’t known. “It is not you who…”

You lose yourself in your thoughts, your mind running wild. It is not him who cuts the life threads. He only comes to claim the people. 

“I didn’t know.”

The corner of Azriel’s lips curls into an almost mocking smirk, his eyes darken when they seize in on your face. “Obviously.”

For a moment your gazes are locked, piercing into the others soul and for the first time this evening you care about what he might see inside your soul. His eyes do things to you. And you know one thing for sure: when it comes to this male there is not much seduction needed, he pins you with his gaze and you core starts throbbing with need.

But you won’t let him have this. You lean closer, so close your noses are almost touching. Your tongue poking out, licking over your dry lips, the shadowy male’s eyes cast down, following the movement. You know what your are doing. You know exactly what you are doing and that it is driving him mad. Death has truly lost control and that to a mortal. A mortal who tired to defy him, mock him, play him. But gods, does he like this. 

“What is it that you want?” you ask, your voice a breathy whisper. Azriel knows that you want to know what he wants in life, what he would rather do instead of claiming those life. But in this very moment there is only one thing he can think of, only one thing he truly wants. 

“I want you. I want you on my cock.”

Slight shock makes your body go rigid, your breathing ragged. You pull back sharply.

Astonishment fills every fiber of your body because you have expected a lot, but not this. Never this. You can smell his arousal, feel his desire stretch out but you would have never guessed he would ask for this, would use such vulgar wording.

Azriel must have noticed your surprise, his face turns grim, eyes losing their fire. He looks almost worried for a moment, his skin turning even colder. 

You want to show him that this is exactly what you want. That you have been yearning for this since the moment he stepped into your house. You need him, need Death to consume you, claim you in another way he normally did with mortals. 

You brush your thumb over his chin, eyes following the movement and suck your lower lip between your teeth. You lift your gaze to his, lips slightly parting when your hand moves to the ties of your dressing gown. Pulling on them, you manage to shrug your dressing gown of, leaving you just in a tiny slip, that accentuates your curves and nearly has the shadowy male panting. 

“Beg.”

It is a whispered command that slips through your lips when you climb onto his lap, your thighs caging his. A wicked grin spreads over your lips, feral delight aglow in your eyes. Azriel’s mirrors this fire of desire, of pure, primal lust. 

 “And plead.”

You fully lower yourself to his hips, hands sliding over his shoulders, arms curling around his neck. 

“Beg for me just like you love to hear people beg to you. Plead that I give you exactly what you want. What you,” —your lips are mere inches from his— “desire.”

Your chest heaves, brushing against his toned chest covered by the thin cloak he’s wearing. You feel how tense his muscles are and lean back, watching the tendons stand out on his neck, how tight his skin appears all of a sudden and how his eyes are blazed with lust. 

You roll your hips, rubbing against him when Azriel leans forward and brushes his nose over your skin. You can feel his passion just as acute as your own.

You are playing with darkness, and Azriel, he would consume you. And this is all you want.

"Death and life have never been that close, have they?" His breath is a cold whisper along the side of your neck. The press of his hips against your own offers another proof of his desire, his erection hard against your softest parts. But he hasn’t given you an answer and you don’t like that. Hand coming up, your grab a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck.

“Beg,” you order, getting impatient. 

“Please,” he hisses through gritted teeth. His nostrils flare, his heated gaze caressing your skin. And so you have Death begging for you. For your mercy. It is a sinister delight that comes alive inside of you, making you feel powerful, strong and ruthless. 

“Please what?” You nip at his jaw, tasting his icy skin. This is a sin. The worst of all sins.

You grin when you hear him groan, his hips rubbing against yours. Although he loves your control over him, he decides that two can play this game. He also decides that, just for a moment longer, he lets you believe that these restraints could actually hold him, hold Death.

When his hardest parts press against your softest, so perfectly fitting, Azriel is rewarded with the breath catching in your throat.

“Please…kiss me, fuck me. Claim me. Make me yours.” 

He breathing is ragged, chest heaving with sharp inhales. “I, Death, Destroyer of Lives, surrender to you. I am fully yours.”

You have planned on teasing him more, making him beg and plead more, but your restraint is shredded, that very moment. There is only one thing on your mind: need. You need him. On you. In you. All over you.

His surrender is your undoing, proof that Death is willing to give his all to you. He lets you have control and despite how twisted this situation seems, your heart warms at this thought. 

One hand parting his cloak and sliding over the laces of his pants, you pull them open. His already rigid length springs free immediately and your mouth waters at his size, his thickness–he is beautiful. 

Azriel must have noticed your slight hesitation because he says, “No worries, we both know you can handle this.” 

You lift yourself up, hovering, fingers curling around his length to ease the tip into you. Something low in your belly clenches, your wet heat welcoming him. Azriel slides fully into your, a gasp parting both your lips when your bodies become flush with the other, merge, become one, come together. You take a short moment to adjust, to angle your hips and then you move. 

“Yes,” Azriel pants. “Yes, that's it. Fuck, yes.” His voice, the deep tenor reverberating through you, has the hair on your body standing, your toes curling. You moan loudly, the stretch of your walls from his cock on the edge of painful. But it does not hurt, it feels good, better than anything you have ever felt before.

“I…have never felt like that. Nothing…nothing can compare to this.”

And although he is death, a cruel monster in the eyes of most, Azriel feels alive for the very first time. Having you bounce on his cock, makes all sinister parts of his life fill with light. All he has done in his life has been that way so he could meet you. Fate has brought him here, and he will stay. With you. You are his.

Driven by lust, Azriel’s tongue latches over your right nipple, the short nightgown having slipped down your chest. You grab his shoulders, head thrown back, riding him. You cry out in pleasure, a mix of curses slipping through your lips. Azriel feels himself getting closer, your sinful sounds his most favourite music from now on.

And he knows, at the back of his mind he knows, that he doesn’t hear them for the last time today. He will hear them a lot from now on. You have entered into something there is no escaping from. You have let Death enter your house, your body. You are bound to him–his forever. Because there is no one apart from you that accepts Death likes this. That sees him, sees him for more than he is believed and he will never let you go, no matter what. 

“I want you to come with my name on your lips.”

You angle your hips, letting him hit that one damnable spot inside of you with every thrust. His name–unknown to mortals.

“Azriel.”

Azriel. The name hollows through your mind. It sounds so beautiful and he has told you his name. You are the first mortal to ever know of his name and this, even though it has been spoken and revealed in frenzy, does something to you. Your walls clench tighter around him, riding him harder.

A moan parts your lips, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Azriel.”

It is a breathy whisper, and Azriel knows that this…his name on your lips is his end, the most erotic thing he has ever heard, his weakness. You are his weakness. 

He rips through the bindings, loosening every restraint that has formerly holding him back. Azriel’s hips jerk up, his pants sliding down to his knees and before you can comprehend what is happening he has you pinned underneath him on the harsh wooden floor, pounding into you mercilessly, his large body covering yours. His hips slap against yours with deep, quick thrusts. The sounds are wet, your high-pitched moans and pants the only things that are louder.

And then you fall apart, Death is their to catch you, to hold you, guide you through your height. He follows right after, his hot release spurting of your walls, his hips meeting your with sloppy thrust. Azriel’s lips capture yours in another bruising kiss, he is not down yet. 

Hours later, Azriel still hovers over your, damp strands of hair sticking toppling over his forehead.

“Come with me. Come to the Hewn City with me. Become my queen.”

It should have been a difficult decision, but it isn’t. There is only one correct answer.

“Yes.”

And so Death has found his queen. He sweeps you up, his cloak wrapping around him, taking you with him to the Hewn City, his territory where you will be granted immortality, where you will rule next to him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123

[kiwinatorwaffles]

I found This is About a Stuffed Bird bc of you and its one of my favorite fics ever. Do you by chance have more suggestions?

hermitcraft/mcyt fic recs? :0 let's go!!

i get a lot of my fic recs from other friends since i don't really go out and search on my own all too much for this fandom. but there are lots of great works out here! i will be listing out some of my favorites :3 mostly hc but a couple general mcyt ones that i think are an excellent read no matter what. all of the fics i'm listing will be genfic without ships!

also i just realized a lot of my bookmarks are grian-centric which is funny i guess because i am admittedly quite picky about content of my other favorites and grian just tends to have the most content in the fanbase. hope that'll be alright

(i hope some of my friends and mutuals don't mind me tagging them for their works)

hermitcraft longfics:

the last days of the free angel of carrows by @theminecraftbee - loved stuffed bird? here's another great longfic by second! this one is about joe and cleo in an urban fantasy mystery setting. again, second writes our beloved hermits into an captivating au!

leaping and hopping on a moonshadow by @lunarblazes - a fantasy au by luna my beloved! pearl suddenly gains magical powers and goes on a quest to find her long-lost friend grian who might know what's happening to her. she meets a lot of familiar faces along the way!

Recall by @redwinterroses - hey, i was the artist for this one! :D mumbo goes missing, so grian and scar search for him. they find that grumbot has been up to some... things along the way. the fic isn't finished but i think the chapters red put out is worth a read if you don't mind leaving off on a cliffhanger because it really is super interesting

dramaturgy by wormcity - a universe where gem and pearl join in a season 7 that was never finished. mumbo became the mayor, but the turf war went so very wrong afterwards. admittedly i have not finished reading this yet because ummm short on time xD but it's super interesting with a lot of layers of drama(turgy hahaha)!

hermitcraft short fics/oneshots:

for trying. by @autistic-evil-xisuma - a stuffed bird universe oneshot of x and xisuma during their lab days. great if you want to be sad over the doomed brothers again :D

the wheels on the bus by sparxwrites - a hilarious post-s8 oneshot about grian being a little shit towards the watchers. one of the first fics i've read from this fandom and i still love it

a body is an object by ruffboi - grian is a mimic, and pearl's arrival in s8 shakes him up. she hasn't seen him in a while and is quite upset to learn that the grian she knew died a long time ago. a great read for familial connections and conflict of friendships!

Goatman and the Rift by TheDepressedCanary - doc's eldritch powers start acting up when the rift appears. what shenanigans will ensue?

other mcyt fics/crossovers:

late at night, when the stars don't look quite right by @lunarblazes - an excellent empires s1 and hermitcraft crossover longfic, where grian lands into the server and is discovered by pearl! very great worldbuilding and relationships, i especially love the dynamic between gri and pearl and pearl and gem :D

every new discovery is just a reminder by amaranthinecanicular - grian begins pulling alternate versions of the hermits from the life series into the server. he does save a lot of them, but at what cost? it does end on a cliffhanger but this is genuinely one of the most captivating oneshots i've ever read... argghhh

The Fair and the Brave and the Good by @slashmagpie - an afterlife smp longfic centered around the shelby, scott, and sausage. i have never watched afterlife smp before in my LIFE and this is still one of my favorite pieces of literature ever. the characters and worldbuilding is impeccable and perfect if you like something dark with themes of hope and renewal.

Two Can Keep a Secret (If One of Them is Red) by anonymous secretmcblog - a 3L oneshot! ren suspects grian has stockholm syndrome with his pact to stay with scar, but his expectations are wrong. a truly excellent read and one of them first fics i've read! i still go back to reread it from time to time

dog at the door by fluffy_papaya & iamsolarflare - a longfic where doc and ren take a trip on a van on their way to s8. ren, however, is not quite himself, and doc has to learn to befriend the red king.

devil town is colder in the summertime by @bananasofthorns - a oneshot from a 100hsmp/life series d&d au! team BEST ventures into a cursed evil fucked up forest. uh oh.

Interview with the Aftermath by @ranchersrevenge (wanderlasts) - the last life contestants are invited for an interview. the responses vary greatly.

stars, smoke, and stolen car keys by wormcity - a 100hsmp modern au oneshot where grian, scar, and joel go on a hike. it doesn't go quite as they expected.

the beehive state by amaranthinecanicular - a dsmp oneshot after wilbur moves to utah. tommy visits him, and the two reconnect. i have to say i stopped following dsmp a long time ago but this fic made me BAWL. i don't even think you need to know any of the characters that well to really enjoy just how amazing the writing itself is

Can't Go Back (This Time) by @duckmumbo (musicaltvbooks) - soup group goes end raiding and accientally finds themselves in afterlife smp. nothing goes wrong, surely! also admittedly i havent finished reading this either but roy i swear i will. this is a great read nevertheless and the soup group dynamic is impeccable!

TommyInnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii - on the train of dsmp fics, this is the superhero au longfic that inspired my own hc superhero au, vdhau. it's a lot of funny shenanigans with tommy and his friends. the fic does take a dark turn at the end, but that can be skipped entirely (as said by eneli herself) if you just want the wholesome aspects.

if you don't mind a little self promo, here are some of my fics!

it takes two to play (the game of mutual secrecy) - the aforementioned hermitcraft hero au. this installment is centered around xisuma and evil x as brothers resolving their issues through hero work and solving the mystery of welsknight's disappearance :D there are other works that are set in the same universe if you're interested for more!

how to form the ultimate besties dynamic: an unreliable tutorial by hypnotizd - a oneshot! hypno is a warlock who goes treasure hunting under the sea. he meets a guardian who later becomes his unlikely friend.

smoke and mirrors, the hunt perseveres - grian's arrival in empires s2 unwittingly brings the watchers' suspicions with him. cue jimmy freaking out and a lot of shenanigans.

ballad of etho’s lab - my newest installment! a oneshot about etho's storied life as the redstone god.

i'm also currently working on the sequel to the game of mutual secrecy and a new (well not exactly new since i made concept art for it) au called private detective gem tasey! these will likely be released sometime late january or february. have fun with these fic recs! i haven't been reading as much lately but i hope ill be able to find more if anyone else asks in the future. cheers!

edit: the fics are out! here they are!

hiding in plain sight (the meaning of trust) - sequel to the hermitcraft hero au! it follows an escaped lab rat trying to acquaint themselves with human society while avoiding suspicion and making friends with familiar faces from tgms ;D

private detective gem tasey: a rotten mystery in london - a hermitcraft detective au where gem gets hired for a case that spirals completely into drama and politics!

[xxx-silhouette-xxx]

Am I the only one disappointed with season 3 of The Mandalorian?

Contains SPOILERS - so skip if you don’t wanna know

Tonight was, painful.

I’ve REALLY been trying to hang on with an open mind but after tonight, there’s no going back.

And I’ve got some things to get off my chest.

Din Djarin has had NO character development from the sacrifice he made for Grogu’s life. This has been inarguably, the biggest disappointment for me. I was hoping for a season of exploration of a man’s moral compass and worldview being hauled upside down, a young boy who’d been orphaned, traumatised and taken in by a cult that raised him with titanium religious beliefs. Who grew into a hardened bounty hunter but gave up everything he knew for the sake of a lost child. Became shunned for protecting said child and despite doing what he felt was right, strived to seek redemption and forgiveness. There was so much potential for Din as a character in terms of growth and development, all of which was swept under a rug within the first two episodes. He has instead become apart of Disney’s formula of “the boss ladies side bitch” with nothing to add to the scene but his catchphrase “this is the way”. That and the sudden revival of his hate for droids even though he had been working on that issue in past seasons.

Grogu is more or less the commodity Disney grew cash dollar signs in their eyes over for the sake of product marketing and just have him doing cutesy shit for the sake of being cutesy.

And then there’s Bo Katan.

Now disclaimer - I’m not the type that hates an actual person for a character they play. Yes, I’ve never liked Bo Katan (that much I’ve made clear in recent posts) but I also think that Katee Sackhoff does a brilliant job playing a character as such. And to see her come to life in season 2 was incredible and to me, Bo Katan from season two is the REAL Bo Katan.

Because I’m sure as hell disappointed with what they’ve done to her character in season 3. Bo Katan was a terrorist who broke away from Mandalore unable to accept a new direction in leadership from her own sister. She massacred and terrorised innocent people, she plotted towards the death of her sister, splintered off from her terrorist group after the throne of Mandalore was taken by Maul and continued to fight against his loyalists and later the empire itself.

And we all saw the look of death on her face when Gideon pointed out that the dark Sabre belonged to Din

This isn’t someone I was rooting for but this was someone who didn’t know when to give up and would go to any means possible to get what they wanted. This is the same woman who made an oath in the throne room of Mandalore, saying that an outsider would never rule the people. The odds were against her in many ways yet she still fought like hell…. Where is that woman? And who replaced her with Disney’s first emo teen princess whose suddenly forgotten her xenophobic upbringing?

And as for Lizzo and Jack Black’s appearances in episode six?

My partner said it best when he commented that they turn the whole show into a parody of itself.

Personally, I found Christopher Loyd’s character as flat as cardboard and an absolutely pointless goose chase used to build up momentum all to throw away the opportunity for a twist ending.

It really breaks my heart to see the series diminish into what it has. The whole reason people fell in love with the show was due to Din and Grogu’s father son dynamic and that’s all been thrown to the side in favour of other characters, setting up for the future of other shows and tying off the ends to the sequels.

Season three completely lacks the drive and purpose of the previous seasons.

It should and could have been so much more than what it is.

And Din Djarin deserved more depth in his story then to be abandoned to the side lines.

[greenerteacups]

Hi GT! I love Lionheart most ardently - it is truly one of my favorite stories (in general, not just fanfiction).

One thing that really impresses me is your ability to make the personality, depth, and voice of every character shine, far beyond just the core four of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. Two questions for you - one, which supporting character has been the most fun for you to write? And two, are there any characters that you especially wish had gotten more character depth or "screen time" in canon? Thanks!

Thank you so much! Much love from one Austenian to another. <3

Taking the core four off the board, Theo and/or Pansy have been the most fun to write, because they're so deliciously nasty. After a lot of scenes in Gryffindor, which is a warm, cozy, everyone-knows-your-name kind of place, Slytherin is a splash of cold water. Teddy and Pans in particular are tangled up in the kinds of toxic oddball dynamics you get when you take a bunch of emotionally repressed children, give them more money than God, and tell them they can't trust anyone but each other. Also, they deliberately talk like they're in a novel, because they're pretentious, and that's fun.

Characters that I wish had more time in canon: my kingdom for a scrap of information about Narcissa. Some lore, some dialogue, some narrative anything from Narcissa. Because if you just lay it out in bullet points, her life is the most fucked-up insane series of catastrophic fall-of-the-Roman-Empire type disasters — like, her (canonical) timeline currently goes, in chronological order:

Sister elopes and gets disinherited

Cousin runs away and gets disinherited

Other sister joins a cult

Other cousin also joins a cult

Husband joins a cult (timeline unclear, possibly predates your sister and/or cousin)

Other cousin goes missing, presumed dead(??)

Disinherited cousin is arrested for betraying his best friend to your cult leader and killing ten muggles (even though the muggle-killing was what he got all pissy about in the first place?)

Disinherited cousin's dead best friend's kid kills your cult leader on accident.

Your husband is arrested and tried for trying to overthrow his government (which he did) but they acquit him because you guys are rich. Your sister (also rich(?)) goes to prison though

Your husband unleashes a string of murders at the school your only son attends by smuggling a Dark artifact bequeathed to him by your dead cult leader to an eleven-year-old girl

Harry Potter frees your house-elf by tricking your beautiful idiot husband into punting a twelve-year-old's sock at it

Disinherited cousin breaks out of jail, tries to kill(?) Harry Potter

Your cult leader comes back from the dead

Your cult sister breaks out of jail to join her resurrected cult leader and moves into your house

Your son joins the cult and tries to kill his school principal. You make a suicide pact with his chemistry professor to help him out. Your son appears to succeed; everyone is still in your house for some reason.

Cult leader kills Harry Potter, Notoriously Unkillable Guy, and doesn't check the body himself. Maybe has bad knees or something? Unclear. Anyway, kid's not dead, so you lie to your immortal cult leader because you're sick of having all these people in your fucking house.

But hey, I'm glad the books made time for us to meet Ted Tonks.