#magic and romance
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constantblatheringsstuff · 8 days ago
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What to expect:
A magical road trip with stunning landscapes.
The sharp, witty banter you love.
Hidden dangers and surprising allies.
A touch of slow-burn romance amidst the wild Australian coastlines.
New Chapter Now Live on AO3! Explore the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56518390
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ayilings · 2 months ago
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do we fuck with black parade hatsune miku [wip] 💀🖤
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torpublishinggroup · 9 months ago
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Celebrate Pride with Tor Publishing Group!
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The Water Outlaws by S. L. Huang
Mountain outlaws on the margins of society, the Bandits of Liangshan proclaim a belief in justice—for women, for the downtrodden, for progressive thinkers a corrupt Empire would imprison or destroy. They’re also murderers, thieves, smugglers, and cutthroats. Together, they could bring down an empire. 
Now available in paperback!
Somewhere Beyond the Sea by TJ Klune
The long-awaited sequel to The House in the Cerulean Sea is a story of resistance, lovingly told, about the daunting experience of fighting for the life you want to live and doing the work to keep it. Welcome back to Marsyas Island—home to six magical and purportedly dangerous children. This is Arthur’s story.
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The West Passage by @jpechacek
When the Guardian of the West Passage dies in her bed, the women of Grey Tower feed her to the crows and go back to their chores. No successor is named, and no hand takes up the fallen blade, so the West Passage—the ancient byways of the beast—goes unguarded. This is a weird and delightful journey across a deliriously medieval landscape where decay thrives in abundance and giant Ladies rule a palace the size of a city. 
Blood Debts by Terry J. Benton-Walker
On the thirtieth anniversary of the largest magical massacre in New Orleans history, Clement and Cristina Trudeau mourn their father and care for their sick mother. But their mother isn’t sick, they learn: She’s cursed. Cursed by a member of the same magic council over which she used to preside. Cursed by someone who will come for Clement and Cristina next. 
Now available in paperback!
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Bury Your Gays by @drchucktingle
After so many years, Misha’s big Oscar moment is here. All he has to do? Kill off the gay characters in his long-running streaming series, “for the algorithm.” Misha refuses, but that’s hardly the end, because monsters from his old horror movie days have begun to step out from the silver screen and stalk him. 
The Brides of High Hill by Nghi Vo
The Cleric Chih accompanies a young bride to her wedding to Lord Guo, the aging ruler of a crumbling estate, but amid the elaborate courtesies and extravagant banquets, they realize something haunts the shadowed halls. As the big night nears close, Chih will learn that not all monsters dwell in shadows; some hide in plain sight. 
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Remedial Magic by Melissa Marr
1) An unassuming librarian falls in love with a powerful witch. 
2) Previous librarian discovers she too is a witch…
3) …and that she must attend magical community college to learn how to save her new world from annihilation. 
Swordcrossed by @fahye
Part-time con artist / full-time charming menace Luca Piere didn’t expect to get blackmailed into teaching a chronically responsible merchant Matti how to wield a sword. He also didn’t expect to find his charge so inconveniently handsome, or to get so entangled in his tale of intrigue, sabotage, and matrimony. 
It’s important to read Swordcrossed because while you’re reading gay fiction, you can also study the blade.
Celebrate Pride with more titles from Tor Publishing Group here!
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datcravat · 8 months ago
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In the name of Hades, I'll punish you!
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mentally-ill-for-bes · 2 months ago
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It's almost hilarious how even when Viktor is trying to get rid of his humanity it just highlights how partial he's to Jayce. His villain speech isn't even threatening, he searches for Jayce to talk especifically, he is still trying to convince Jayce to join him or to see the benefits of glorious evolution, I would say even trying to impress him. He touches Jayce's forehead even when it's not necessary to know his mind, he keeps the blanket even when he does not feel cold or warm long ago. He could have easily kill him but instead he decides to talk more with him about glorious evolution hoping he to accept him without realizing that Jayce is what makes him look the most human, the most desperate for company and understanding
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j0celynh0rr0r · 2 months ago
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Dark princess
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tikvin · 4 months ago
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Average Gale romance experience 🧙‍♂️💖
His yapping sessions amuse me so much
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dailyflicks · 4 months ago
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PRACTICAL MAGIC — 1998, dir. Griffin Dunne
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topbanana-art · 1 year ago
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Breaking news: Durge monk realises they have a crush on Shoe eating wizard
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rendevok · 1 year ago
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step into the light
what do you see?
my sun,
my stars
shining on me
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erineas · 25 days ago
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You're making me crave fairies too AUGH JDCVKDNDNS littol fabric hoarding fairy,,,
What if I tell you you can be a pretty fairy and rizz up skeletons at the same time?
Just look at them!
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This is how they spend their time together!!
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d-z20 · 1 month ago
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Hers and Hers Alone
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader
Summary: Agatha Harkness’s possessive nature burns brighter than ever when she claims you, not just with her words but with her magic. In the charged intimacy of her study, the line between dominance and devotion blurs, leaving no doubt that you belong entirely to her.
-OR-
She marks you with a magic tattoo cause you're oblivious to people flirting with you
Warnings: Possessive Agatha, reader is an idiot when it comes to flirting, magical marking, jealousy/obsession, claiming trope, slight angst, kind of dark romance is implied (at least their relationship is in my head), some dom/sub dynamics, reader gets called a good girl
Words: 1.9k
A/N: FuckMarvelEveryoneLives AU :P I errrr had carried this fic into the smut but then realised the request didn't ask for it so I guess what happened will just stay in my head :))
AO3 | Masterlist
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Agatha Harkness always gets what she wants.
That’s the first thing you learnt when you fell into her orbit—her sharp eyes, her wicked smirk, the way her presence alone felt like it could strip you bare. It wasn’t just her power that made her dangerous; it was her confidence, the knowledge that she could claim you with nothing more than a look. And claim you, she did.
Tonight, that claim becomes permanent.
It starts earlier in the evening, though you’re far too oblivious to notice. Another witch—a newcomer to your coven—has been lingering a little too close, her compliments flowing like honey, her hand brushing yours just a bit too often. You think nothing of it, laughing at her jokes and responding with your usual warmth, but Agatha sees it all. She sits across the room, her wine glass in hand, her gaze locked on you with an intensity that sends lesser witches scattering. It’s subtle at first—the narrowing of her eyes, the slight tilt of her head—but as the other witch leans in and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, Agatha’s smile falters, replaced by something far sharper.
Jen sidles up beside her, an amused glint in her eye as she tracks Agatha’s gaze. “You’re going to set the room on fire if you keep glaring like that,” she says dryly.
“Perhaps,” Agatha mutters, her tone deceptively smooth. “But how could anyone blame me?" Her gaze flicks briefly to Jen before settling back on you.
Jen’s laughter is soft, a knowing sound that holds no pity. “She’s not doing anything. It’s you who sees it as a challenge.”
“A challenge easily won,” Agatha snaps, her irritation slipping through. Still, she doesn’t move. Not yet. She knows you too well to make a scene in public. No, this required precision.
The air buzzes with conversation, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows that dance across the stone walls and when you finally turn toward her, your face brightens at the sight of her. You weave through everybody, the scent of burning herbs mingling with the faint tang of red wine, excusing yourself with a polite smile and a brief touch of hands that only fuel Agatha’s determination. By the time you reach her, she has composed herself into a picture of calm.
“You’re being antisocial again,” you tease lightly, tilting your head to study her. “Should I be worried?”
“Hardly,” she replies smoothly, though her voice dips into a tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “Although perhaps you should.”
You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
Agatha steps closer, her fingers brushing your wrist lightly. The contact sparks against your skin, her magic coiling beneath the surface. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you feel the weight of her presence settle over you like a velvet cloak.
“You’ve been quite generous with your attention tonight,” she says softly, her voice carrying an edge that makes your heart skip. “Perhaps too generous.”
Your brows furrowed. “Are you jealous?”
“Jealous?” She laughs low and dangerous. “No, darling. Jealousy is for those who doubt their place. I know exactly where I stand. Do you?”
Her words linger in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, and then Agatha’s fingers trail up your arm, her touch deliberate and slow, leaving behind a faint, smouldering heat. The air between you thickens, charged with her magic and something even more primal. Her breath brushes your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t understand yet,” she whispers, her tone laced with a dark promise. “But you will.”
“Come with me,” she commands, making your pulse race.
Agatha doesn’t speak as she pulls you down the hallway, her grip firm but not painful, though there’s no mistaking the fire in her movements. You trail after her, a little breathless from trying to keep up, still half-confused about what’s gotten into her. It’s not until she shoves open the door to her study and drags you inside that she finally stops, turning to face you. The door clicks shut behind you with a wave of her hand, the air in the room thickening, charged with something electric and unrelenting.
“Agatha—” you start, but her sharp look cuts you off.
“Do you enjoy parading yourself like that?” she asks, her voice deceptively soft as she steps closer. “Letting them think they have the right to touch what’s mine?” The words cut like a knife, her tone equal parts petal and thorn, daring you to challenge her claim.
Her words sting, but there’s a flicker of defiance in your chest. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, yet the weight of her gaze makes you second-guess yourself. “What? She was just being nice."
“Nice.” Agatha repeats, a dark chuckle escaping her lips as she closes the distance between you. “That wasn’t ‘nice,’ darling. She was flirting. And you…" Agatha pauses, her jaw tightening ever so slightly. For a fleeting moment, there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—not doubt, exactly, but something close. Vulnerability that is quickly buried under her usual sharpness. “You’re far too sweet to see it.”
You open your mouth to argue, but the words die in your throat as her thumb brushes your bottom lip, lingering just long enough to make your heart stutter. “You’re mine,” she says softly, almost like a warning, her eyes darkening as she leans in. “You can laugh and smile at the others all you want,” she continues, her voice like silk laced with steel. “But they’ll never know you the way I do. They’ll never touch you like this.”
Your breath hitches; your body already betraying you as heat pools in your stomach. Agatha’s hands move to your shoulders, steady and deliberate as she turns you around to face the desk. You feel the press of her body against your back, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in. “Don’t move,” she murmurs, the command dripping with authority.
You stand still, barely daring to breathe, though your mind races. The weight of her gaze, the heat of her power, wraps around you like an unrelenting grip. A thrill courses through your chest—half fear, half longing—as you realise what she’s about to do. This is more than a claim; it’s a declaration, a tether, and deep down, you’re not sure if you’d ever want to break free.
 Agatha brushes her fingers down the column of your throat and across your collarbone before stopping over your chest. Her touch is gentle, but the power swirling from her is anything but. 
“Right here,” she murmurs, her voice a dark velvet caress. Her fingers brush over your chest, leaving a tingling trail of magic in their wake. “This is where my claim belongs—above your heart, so no one ever forgets who it beats for.”
A surge of violet magic blooms from her palm, tendrils of shimmering light twisting and curling as they seep into your skin. It’s not just energy—it’s alive, sparking and crackling like a storm contained within your chest. Heat rushes through you, both foreign and familiar, as if her power is carving itself into your very being.
You gasp, your body arching instinctively as Agatha mumbles soft incantations under her breath. When she pulls her hand away, your heart is racing, and you feel it—a faint, lingering hum where her magic settled.
“Look,” she instructs, her voice soft yet commanding. 
There, etched into your skin in delicate, curling lines of violet, are Agatha’s initials. It’s an ancient and commanding mark, pulsing faintly with magic. You feel it thrum in time with your heartbeat, as though Agatha herself has left a piece of her soul imprinted onto you. 
You blink, lips parted in surprise, but before you can speak, Agatha’s fingers ghost over the mark. The second she touches it, a wave of pleasure rushes through you, leaving you trembling as a choked gasp escapes your throat.
“Sensitive, isn’t it?” She murmurs, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Maybe now you’ll remember who owns you.”
You shiver under her touch, the magic from the mark sparking with every deliberate brush of her fingers. She leans in close, her voice a low purr against your ear. “And if you ever let anyone get that close again, I’ll make sure you cannot walk for days, darling. Do you understand?”
You swallow hard, nodding wordlessly, and Agatha hums approvingly. “Good girl.”
Agatha’s approval drips like honey into your veins, the warmth of her magic lingering just beneath your skin. Your body betrays you completely—breath shaky, pulse fluttering, and heat pooling low in your stomach. Every brush of her fingers near the freshly marked skin pulls a soft gasp from your lips, and you can feel her smile against your ear.
“Sensitive already,” she husks with dark amusement, the words sending a fresh shiver down your spine. Her fingertips ghost over the mark again, just enough to make your knees buckle, and you clutch at the edge of the desk for support. “Such a pretty reaction. I could play with you like this for hours, you know. Watch you squirm. Hear you beg.”
"Agatha,” you breathe, her name tumbling from your lips in a desperate mix of frustration and longing.
She tsks softly, her free hand trailing down your side, gripping your hip firmly enough to hold you in place. “Do you feel it yet?” she asks softly, tilting your chin up to force your gaze on her. “The way you need me now?” Her voice drops lower, the teasing edge softening into something deeper, more possessive. “That mark isn’t just to ward off wandering hands, love. It’s a tether. A reminder of exactly who you belong to.”
You can only nod, unable to find your voice as the thrum of magic beneath your skin grows more insistent. The mark feels alive—Agatha’s initials pulsing faintly, like they’re echoing your own heartbeat. The sensation deepens when she leans closer, her lips just grazing the sensitive skin below your jaw, and you let out a shaky whimper before you can stop yourself.
“That’s it,” Agatha whispers against your neck, her breath sending another ripple of arousal through you. Her lips curl into a smirk as she presses a kiss there, followed by a deliberate flick of her tongue. “You’re already so desperate. My mark is working beautifully.”
Her hand trails down the front of your body, teasing but never quite satisfying the ache that’s grown unbearable. “I could make you cum just by touching it,” she continues, her voice like velvet as she strokes a single finger lightly over the mark once more. The pleasure spikes instantly—so sharp and overwhelming that your head falls back with a gasp, your thighs pressing together in a feeble attempt for relief.
Agatha pulls back just enough to watch the way you tremble, utterly at her mercy. “Tell me, darling. Do you understand now? Do you know who you belong to?”
“Yes,” you manage, the word escaping in a breathless, desperate whisper.
Her smirk widens. “Say it.”
“You, Agatha,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “I belong to you.”
“Good girl,” she hums, her voice softer now, almost tender. Her fingers trace the edge of the mark, drawing a shuddering breath from your lips. “You wear it beautifully,” she murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss just above the sigil. Her magic lingers there, warm and possessive, as she cups your cheek with a rare gentleness. “Mine,” she whispers again, more for herself than you.
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I just need to take a moment to appreciate the way Kathryn looks at the camera in the gif used at the start... the woman is staring into my soul and ughhhh the piercingssssss 😩😩😩
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Taglist: @danveration @aceday @alwaysharmony
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suave1foru · 4 months ago
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Just us
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illustratus · 4 months ago
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Astolfo in his turn is lured to Atlante's Palace of Illusions (Orlando Furioso) by Gustave Doré
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diavalkitty · 10 months ago
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I miss theeem x3
(some of unexpected fandom)))
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j0celynh0rr0r · 9 months ago
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Trying to get away?
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