#hope this is okay to answer!

[marsipain]

Norwegian Mikus :)

Left is Miku as a russ and right is Miku in a bunad!

[night-orchids]

the fact that you can see the exact moment tears appear in his eyes

[bonus-links]

HOMESICK, pt. 7

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PATREON

[beartitled]

So if Billy's parents became monsters, what happened to Billy's old Henchmaniacs?

The dudes found real jobs

Look at them go 🧑‍💼👷🧑‍⚕️

[outer-andromeda]

aftermath of truth or dare

PPT gang then grabs gabby then carries them to a bed then catnap is in charge of making sure gabby sleeps

Not Catnap - I don't think Raph wants that face too close to his :'))) - but someone else will definitely make sure that man is getting some rest. He's cooked, ain't no way he can escape from the playdough man's "death grip" lmao

[fisherrprince]

mmmmmooorrreeee balop

[safetypinned]

a cold splash of dread hits the deepest pit of his stomach. spreads through his veins and sends a chill up his spine. jess starts to let him into parts of herself that he knows she's kept hidden. under lock and key. and he's let her. there hasn't been some hard push for him to shove down her walls and go stomping in without a care to what she might need. what she might feel. what plaster and bricks she's slathered together to build a haven around herself where she feels she's protecting him, he gets it. fuck. down to the core of who he is. sam's done the same thing since he can remember.

always holding his emotions in check because dean's had enough on his shoulders doing the best he could to raise them both. always treading carefully around his own walls because he knows they were built on ground that's getting chipped away. he kept shoving them backwards trying his best to maintain that comfort and peace he found inside them. even if dean attempted to dig in. see what was bothering him. sam would double down and swear it was nothing and the way he could flip a switch and go from pensive thoughts displayed upon his face to bright and happy? should've been frightening to a parent or anyone other than stressed out, spread thin, child himself--dean. who would back off but always knew there was more..

..and yet didn't push. didn't shove. didn't come crashing through any cracks or blacked out windows forcing sam to talk. he always respected his brother for knowing when to back off. kinda iffy on it now and then currently but--it was enough that sam learned valuable lessons. sometimes walls are needed. sometimes walls are what someone truly believes they are gifting you with. sometimes walls are meant to be waited outside until the other person's ready to step through on their own time. and now that she's begun? sam listens. fingers drift through blonde locks in an attempt to soothe. to let her know he's there. that he's not going anywhere..

..even as she begs him not to. he stays silent. lets her get out what she's thinking. feeling. lets what she's thinking and feeling sink in. there's tears that well up in his eyes hearing the worst. so he closes them and nuzzles down into the soft curls atop her head. breathes her in and holds her so damn close that his breath is against her chest. slow and steady. purposefully. breathe with me. we're okay. we're safe. just breathe.

eyes pinch together tight to chase away the tears as she starts to fall into despair over brady. he can see the scene so clearly and yes there's guilt because he loves her more than he loves himself and he'll always feel guilt over this because it's who he is and he can't change that. wishes he could but he can't. there's always gonna be a part of him that blames himself for what happened. but that's selfish to speak about. because she's pleading with him not to believe exactly that. god, he wishes he could give that to her but he can't. drawing in a breath--sam shifts so that he's curled into her side--propped up on one elbow.. most of his frame covers hers. the other arm wraps across her chest, fingertips graze over her temple and he purposefully locks eyes with her.

"jess.. honey." yes, there's redness in his eyes. forgive him. he didn't hide it enough. "honey.. brady wasn't there anymore. i know you know that. it's so damn hard to believe but he was gone. and i'm so sorry he was. but what you did? was exactly what you should've done. god. anything else? would've been---" he shakes his head, a crease of need for her to believe him forms between dark golden hazel. "i love you. i love you with every part of me and no matter what? i'm not going anywhere. jess. sweetheart. i don't think you should go anywhere. i'm not going to push you away. do i want you putting yourself in danger? no. but if that's what you need? then you need it but i want you to let me be there with you when you do. do you see what i am saying?" he hopes she does. cause her running off? disappearing on him? is a nightmare that happens regularly. he'd be devastated. lost. and not give up til he found her again.

"if you ever want out of this.. then you tell me and that's what happens. i'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to. EVER. understand," his chin tucks down and then lips press to her forehead. temple just above where he's not stopped caressing. the corners of each eye. anywhere he can think to pepper another after another. "trust me. please trust me. let me be where you feel safe to say or not say whatever is on your mind. i just want you with me. happy. let me help you through this? as much as you feel like you can. please?"

@crispyblonde

being close to him brought a sense of security and comfort she hadn't felt at all in the time she had spent alive without him. those months were spent in a near constant state of panic and paranoia. was someone coming for her? what was she brought back for? how could she put a stop to any plans others had to use her against sam? she viewed everyone around her as a potential threat -- a potential demon, because that was a life lesson hard-learned.

if she closed her eyes, she could pretend for a moment that they had never been separated. that they were still at stanford, tired after a long day of studying -- rather than the completely different people that now lay together in a motel room bed on their way across the country to the next case. she leans into his hand, the simple touch enough to bring tears to her eyes at the mix of emotions she seemed to be constantly feeling. the loss of her perspective of the world and who she had been, the loss of the life she and sam had been planning out, and the unknown of what the future held from them all in opposition against how natural it still felt between them and how desperately she wished he could have had the life he wanted.

on the subject of talking about it, there's so much she asn't been open about yet. she didn't want him to take that personally, but she worries that there's an invisible line in the sand that she'll one day cross where he'll be pushing her toward living that normal life he likely has lost hope of having for himself. but if she keeps it all in, the nightmares that seep into the waking hours were going to make her implode. memories of the hours before her death are the ones she would do anything to forget.

❝ i love you, sam. so much. that's not something i've ever questioned. and i want to be honest with you. i just -- i know you carry so much trauma with you. you've seen a lot more than me... and i don't want to add to it. i don't want you to feel guilty because what happened was going to happen no matter what either of us did. ❞ a few tears are already trailing down her face as she fails miserably to speak with an even tone, rather than a breathy one full of cracks. ❝ i don't want you to convince yourself that i'd be better off without you because i wouldn't. i don't want you to think i can't handle all of this because -- i can. i know i can. ❞ maybe that comes off a little delusionally self-assured, but she's had plenty of days where she's been mostly fine since they reunited.

❝ i stabbed him. i don't think i've told you that. brady. something seemed so off when i invited him in and when he started -- when he started in on me... i got away long enough to grab one. ❞ even as her own life was hanging in the balance that night, she was beside herself for ever getting to the point of picking up that knife toward a friend that had yet to reveal he was a monster straight from hell. the tears are falling more steadily now and her shaky fingers grip the fabric of his shirt. her chest is tightening and she can't bear to see his reaction. ❝ he laughed -- he just laughed. looked down at the chef knife sticking out of his chest and -- laughed. ❞

[insertdisc5]

Um so I've been sitting on this ask for months cause I didn't want to bother you with how many messages you must get. And because it's difficult for me to be open about my experiences, but I'm working on that part thanks to you! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

For the first time in my 32 years of life I'm starting to open up to my friends and family. When I'm tearing myself down or having a panic attack about how I think I'm failing the people around me, now I say "This is something Siffrin would do, and you'd give them grace, so give yourself grace..." I can't overstate how much your writing has changed my life for the better.

AND I KNOW THIS IS CRINGE but I've been seeking out a last name for myself for many many years, cause I hate having my estranged father's name. And I never found a name that felt right, until now. So I hope it's ok with you that I'm working on changing it to "Frin" as a reminder to keep giving myself grace. 👉🏻���🏻

Anyways haha I'm going to curl up in a hole now~! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ But not before I give you a huge thank you. So, THANK YOU!!!

i have no words. im incredibly humbled on all accounts by your message... for thinking about siffrin and how you'd give them grace, so you are giving yourself grace in return... for adopting a last name from isat... for trying your best to be more open!!! weargh!!!!!! you are incredibly brave and i want to thank you for your message from the bottom of my heart. im rooting for you!!!!!!

[linkvcr]

HI HELLO IN HONOR OF DISABILITY PRIDE MONTH I HUMBLY REQUEST DISABLED SKYWARD SWORD LINK OF YOUR CHOOSING

HELLO HELLO! i decided to draw ur POTS hc for Link :-] hope u like it ^_^

[casscainmainly]

"My long-held belief that Duke and Luke should not get along" <- could you please elaborate on this? I'm fond of both and I collect your thoughts and analyses like they're rare trading cards so I'm ready to be all 👀🫳🍿

First of all anon this might be my favourite ask ever, I've been dying to write my thoughts on these two so THANK YOU. Secondly my belief that Duke + Luke wouldn't get along actually stemmed from WFA, I was super annoyed with Luke giving Duke the pep talk in ep 76 because they have no relationship!!! Then I started thinking harder and realised they are a really interesting pair. In case anyone hasn't noticed I'm fond of giving Duke relationships where he's annoyed with the other person so 😭 this is very on brand.

The thing about Duke + Luke is they are, on the surface, similar - they are Black members of the Batfam who operate mostly independently, 'separate' from a legacy as Signal/Batwing (though I will deconstruct this later), devoted to their family, have a strong sense of justice, and view crime-fighting as a business. But I believe at their cores they are fundamental opposites - and it's this hidden opposition that makes me think they wouldn't vibe with each other. I'm focusing on We Are Robin Duke and Batwing Luke, though I will also refer to Duke's Signal days + Luke in Detective Comics.

(This is going to be a long post because this is lowkey my Luke + Duke thesis 😭)

Introductions

Duke and Luke were both introduced in the New 52, actually in the same year (2013!). What's really cool about their intros is that you already see how different they are. We first meet Duke in Zero Year, where he's fishing in the subway and then attacked by a gang; we then get the famous scene of him solving crosswords by Bruce's unconscious body. When Bruce tells Duke and his family to leave, Duke refuses, telling him they can't leave Duke's grandma and that all it takes is one riddle to free the city from Riddler's influence.

By contrast, we first meet Luke in the spotlight as he's wrestling for MMA in Batwing #19. He's been wrestling to get Batman's attention, refusing all job offers from his dad to do so (and thus creating some juicy father-son tension). In Batwing #20, we see he has two degrees from MIT, lives in a fancy apartment, and is really tech-oriented; his cover story for Batwing is that he's travelling the world.

Already, there are a couple things that already firmly separate them:

Class: Duke is from the Narrows whereas Luke is rich

Connection to Batman: Duke stumbled across Batman and gained his attention quite organically, whereas Luke was actively begging for Batman to notice him

Agency: Duke's actions were motivated by the extreme circumstances of Zero Year and a desire to help rooted in his material environment, whereas Luke's is a more internal, abstract wish to help (pointing to their class differences again)

Gotham: Duke refuses to leave his city, whereas Luke immediately packs up and travels the world

Intelligence: Both of them are fiercely intelligent, but in different ways - Duke loves puzzles and riddles whereas Luke is more inclined towards engineering and technology

And these differences only grow as they get older!!

Maturity

Duke is 16 (in my head, canonically it's vague but he's between Damian and Tim so 14-17) and Luke is 23. This age gap is honestly not that big, but I think it would feel big to both of them. And what's worse is that Duke is quite mature, but Luke is said to be immature:

Batwing #23

I don't think Luke is actually immature, but it's a recurring theme that other characters perceive him as unwilling to grow up; and I genuinely do think Batwing, for him, is kind of an adventure at first. Now compare this to Duke, whose circumstances disallowed him being childish. He had to grow up because his parents weren't around anymore, and he became quite jaded as a result. Even after he's mellowed out in his Signal days, I still don't think he could tolerate working with someone who comes off as light-hearted as Luke does. Duke would be annoyed by how he perceives Luke doesn't take things seriously, and Luke in turn would be annoyed when Duke inevitably criticises him for it.

Arc

Following on from above, their arcs are actually in total opposite directions. We first meet Duke alone and disillusioned with everything, putting his whole being into finding his parents. Then, through We Are Robin and Robin War, he begins to understand what Robin means as a symbol and finds community, leading to his brighter personality in Signal comics. Luke, however, begins very light-hearted (as seen above), with a huge respect for Batman and the Bat symbol. Once his family starts being torn apart, though, he becomes increasingly aggressive, more isolated, and in a much darker place. Compare a narration box from the last issues of both:

Batwing #34 / We Are Robin #12

These encapsulate their journeys: Duke learns that he doesn't have to act alone, whereas Luke struggles with accepting all that has happened since he put on his suit. Being a vigilante improves Duke's life, whereas it essentially ruins Luke's. This is why I don't think that WFA ep made sense!!! They have nothing in common in terms of the vigilante experience, and I think they would frustrate each other because they have such different conceptions of what the vigilante life is!!!!!!!

Batman and Robin

Okay so I said that Luke + Duke aren't legacies; even though Batwing is one, Luke doesn't actually talk to David Zavimbe, and his Batwing is not spiritually connected to David's really. But Luke and Duke both do take inspiration from other Batfam members - Batman and Robin, respectively.

Batwing #25 / Batman (2011) #45

Luke is the rare Batfam member whose motivations don't spring from tragedy - he's inspired one night when Batman saves him and he jumps in to help. Luke's love for Batman is wrapped up in Bruce himself, as a person rather than a symbol; he genuinely thinks Batman is awesome and wants to help people under his name.

Duke is the exact opposite - Robin is not a person for him but a symbol, and a symbol that can be spread to many people. It's also intimately tied with Duke's relationship to Gotham, because Batman is "on the gargoyle" and Robin is "on the street". Importantly, Duke says to Darryl that "I know you work for him, but you're us". Working for a singular person is in opposition to this 'us' that Duke believes in.

Luke, though not exactly an employee, literally wanted to work for Batman, Inc. Batwing is in many ways a 'job', an alternative to the corporate life Lucius wanted for him. Duke would, I think, take huge problems with Luke's philosophy as a whole. Separated from Gotham, attached to Batman as a person rather than as a symbol, Duke just literally wouldn't understand where Luke is coming from. And Luke, too, doesn't seem to respect Robin as a mantle (this is after someone mistakes him for Batman in Batwing #34):

I think Luke views Robin as firmly a kids' role, a sidekick for Batman; that would annoy the STUFFING out of Duke. I actually could write a whole post in itself about this incident and Luke being mistaken for Batman but that's for another day. The point is they are attached to the Batman and Robin legacies which in themselves are already vastly different, but Duke is kind of anti-Batman and Luke is a little anti-Robin, so they would not mix.

Family

One thing they do have in common is a deep love for family. But even then, their familial relationships are extremely different: Duke has a wonderful relationship with his parents, bolstered by the fact he lost them for a while, whereas Luke has a contentious relationship with his. Duke in some ways idealises his mom and dad, while Luke is sharply aware of his parents' shortcomings.

Batwing #20

Now this wouldn't be an issue normally, but Duke canonically has, like, a problem with judging other people's families. It's a really consistent (and somewhat hilarious) trait of his:

We Are Robin #5 / We Are Robin #5 / Gotham Nights #8

The Dre comment ("you're a mob kid?") is particularly telling. Because Duke has such a good relationship with his parents, and because he's shaped so much by them, I think he sees children as reflections of their parents/families. It's hard for him to see someone completely divorced from their family - you even see this a bit in Batman & The Outsiders, where although Duke understood Cass' disagreements with Shiva, I don't think he really got the nuances of what that felt like for Cass.

Luke's relationship with his father is complex and contentious. They love each other, but Lucius' desires for Luke just don't match what Luke wants, and Luke can't tell him about Batwing either so it's a constant back-and-forth. This secrecy is another thing Duke wouldn't get - I've made posts before about Duke and honesty, and it's a huge value of his. It's significant that as soon as his mom is healed she finds out about Signal; dishonesty is not really a factor in Duke's life, whereas it is Luke's central conflict. Luke's entire thing with his dad and his alter ego is something Duke has never had to deal with, and I think Duke would just be like 'tell him?? and make up??' and Luke would sigh so loud and hard.

Personality and Authority

But all of that aside, I just think their personalities wouldn't mix! Duke is a jaded teenager whose overt honesty and resistance to authority often give off a bad first impression (see his first encounters with Black Lightning, We Are Robin, Damian, even the Bruce train scene...). People do warm up to Duke quick, and once you love him you adore him, but there's a hurdle to becoming close to him that you have to leap first.

Luke, on the other hand, is affable and immediately likable. He's popular in school (as Russell mentions in #25), has experienced college social life, and is open and friendly. I think in an initial meeting Luke would find Duke off-putting and rude, while Duke would find Luke shallow and annoying. Luke is an extremely confident person, as shown in both Batwing and Detective Comics (particularly the latter). I think Duke would take this confidence as him being stuck-up, especially because Luke is rich.

Their class differences also separate their reactions to authority. Luke doesn't take authority at face value - he disobeys Bruce basically as much as Duke does. However, given his upbringing he isn't that anti-authority. Compare Luke and Duke's attitudes to cops:

Batwing #25 / We Are Robin #2

The Luke narration box is after the cops shoot him and accidentally make him kill his best friend 😭😭😭 like if that had happened to Duke his inner voice would NOT say that. This is another example of how their different upbringings and personalities cause them to have DRASTICALLY different outlooks on things. Batwing also sides with Batwoman when she kills Clayface in Detective Comics, something I think Duke would not do (he would've sided with Cass) so their ideologies often put them on opposite sides.

FINALLY, and least importantly, Luke is not a reader. This is a recurring thing and it's so funny:

Batwing #21

That's Tam telling Luke to "read a book". I think this exact interaction would happen with Duke taking the place of Tam, where he'd just be super annoyed that Luke doesn't enjoy literature. Honestly I think Duke might remind Luke of Tam in a lot of ways, since Duke is Bruce's golden child just like Tam is Lucius'. And that would annoy Luke, like he can't escape annoying younger siblings even as Batwing?? Bruce liking Duke more than Luke, even when Duke doesn't even care for Bruce's approval, would send Luke's blood pressure through the ROOF.

Conclusion

Um anyway I'm so so sorry this was so long but that's why I think Luke and Duke wouldn't get along!! It's mostly that they have such different outlooks on literally everything and their personalities clash. Anyway, if anyone bothered to read til the end here's your reward!! A little edit of what SHOULD have happened in WFA ep 76:

[solarmorrigan]

disoriented + steddie pls!

Please accept my humble offering, O Anonymous

<3

11. Disoriented - Eddie/Steve

cw: panic attack, Steve has PTSD

-

It’s silly, really, what sets Steve off. Something small, something he wouldn’t have given a second thought to, normally.

It’s the ceiling.

The room is dark when Steve wakes, just barely lit by a flickering light that he can’t see the source of, and as he squints up at the ceiling, he realizes that it isn’t his ceiling. The texture is wrong, and it’s hard to tell for sure, but he thinks the color is off, too. It isn’t his ceiling, and he isn’t in his bedroom, and suddenly–

Suddenly Steve has no idea where he is.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, and now he’s woken up somewhere strange, somewhere unfamiliar. His heart starts pounding as he turns his head, trying to figure out what’s going on. Everything is in shadow, looming and strange, blurry – Steve realizes that he isn’t wearing his contacts, that he doesn’t know where is glasses are, and what the hell is going on?

Where is he?

It looks like the only source of light is coming from a TV, the screen a smear of flashing colors that Steve can’t decipher, and it doesn’t help him in the slightest. Had he passed out at a party? Is he at someone else’s house?

But no, he doesn’t do that anymore. He hasn’t in a while.

He tries desperately to remember what he’d been doing before he fell asleep (passed out?), but his brain has spun out a hundred miles ahead of him, no longer accepting rational input, because the last time he’d woken somewhere unfamiliar he’d been at the mercy of his violent captors, and the time before that he’d been trapped in a car being driven by a thirteen-year-old, and his mind is trying desperately to jam a square peg into a round hole and make his surroundings make sense.

“Steve?” Someone speaks, and a hand lands on Steve’s shin.

Steve yells wordlessly, scrambling upright, away from the hand, panicked, feeling utterly stupid for not having even thought to check for other people, for someone who could hurt him, for whoever might have taken him here in the first place, except– except when Steve finally gets a look at whoever it is, the wild curls and wide eyes ping as familiar almost immediately.

Maybe he doesn’t know where he is, but he knows that face, even without his contacts, even in the dark, even in his panic.

“Eddie?” Steve manages, hoarse and breathless.

Eddie moves, reaching out behind himself, and suddenly the room explodes into light. Steve scrunches his eyes shut against the initial flare, but when he opens them again, everything has changed. He recognizes the dark fabric of the couch he and Eddie are sitting on. He recognizes the lamp on the end table behind Eddie. He recognizes the coffee table and the scatter of books and papers sitting on top of it. He recognizes the pale carpet and the TV stand and the blurry shape of the doorway he knows leads to the kitchen even though the light in there is still off.

He recognizes all of it because he’s seen it dozens of times before, because he is in the Munson’s goddamn living room.

Steve sags a little against the couch, heart still pounding, breath still wheezing in and out a little too quickly to be comfortable, and he shakes his head against the buildup of anxiety that now has nowhere to go.

“Hey,” Eddie calls softly, and Steve looks up at him. “What happened there? Are you okay?”

Eyes scrunched shut again, Steve runs a hand over his face, nodding his head, then shaking it, unable to decide.

“I got��” He looks back up at Eddie, suddenly feeling small and out of place, uncertain even though he knows exactly where he is now. “I got lost, for a minute.”

He can’t quite tell what expression takes Eddie’s face at that, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Eddie is sitting forward, reaching out again, not touching this time, but offering.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Eddie says, and Steve finds he doesn’t want to do anything but exactly that.

He moves across the couch and crashes into Eddie’s open arms, burying his face in his neck as his arms come around Steve’s back, stroking up and down as Steve rides out the shakes of adrenaline, and here – here, at least, Steve knows he will never feel lost.

[retquits]

hello, hi! just want to say i love your art & adore your monroe especially (never played FoM (one day) but he reminds me of a fruit gummy in the best way) & um was playing with different brushes & doodled him if thats okay? slides this in your ask like a flyer under your door (sorry if its blurry, i had to make it pretty small before tumblr would let me upload an image, i can upload a better version on bsky if it meets your quality requirements & i didnt miss like. monroe being Blue but hating blueberries or something lol;;)

OH!! MY GOD!!!! OH MY GOD!!! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

i don't even know what to say, this is SO cute, i'm so so so honored you'd draw him even when you haven't played fields of mistria 🥹 …?!

your art style is so lovely & your lineart is incredibly smooth, monroe looks so perfect and those blueberries are SO EDIBLE!!! (and blueberries are one of his liked gifts, which makes this even more special to me!!!!!)

thank you so, so, so much for this, i love it so much and it was such an amazing surprise 🥺💛 if you do upload to bsky, please feel free to tag me so i can share it!!

[collophora]

Fic writers who wrote migrainous-hunter I love you Inspired by This fic from @just-here-with-my-thoughts and this one too by lucifer_elliot and this one by @oohhihoney

[forgettable-au]

hi! I’m just curious, have you ever read I Am In The Past, Never In The Future?

NO?? OMG????

THERE'S A FULL PAPYRUS WAS GASTER FIC AND I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT IT????????????????????????????

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME THIS IN ALL OF MY YEARS GOING CRAZY ABOUT THE CONCEPT

AND IT'S FROM 2016????????????

I'm gonna go crazy about this for a bit... definitely will give it a read later

[daemon-in-my-head]

At last, here it is. A while ago, I had the pleasure of commissioning the wonderful @lokorum to portray my beloved idiots in all of their tragic glory.

So without further ado, after months, here's the first chapter of my durgetash-centred, possibly very long, post-canon Genfic (cuz even if he's not featured in the picture, he's very much the one behind it, and yes, I said genfic but they do fuck, there's just also other themes that are more important than whatever it is those guys got going on).

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63147115

Rated M; further elaboration, summary etc behind the cut.

As per usual, please mind the tags. This is rated mature and may turn explicit depending on—let's be so fr—nothing but my mood. It IS a tragedy. I know how it ends. Trust me when I stress the tragedy part. I'm writing this story through tears at times. There's fluff, there is hurt comfort, there is true old man yaoi but there is just as much 'doves that aren't simply dead but rotten' and pain.

So to everyone who's not scared shitless yet (which is very valid), here's a summary:

The year is around 1530 DR. The once-revered and reformed Bhaalspawn returns to the city he had both saved and nearly doomed, emerging from his exile in the Underdark. Though he claims to seek only rest, the city's de facto ruler, Archduke Gortash, sees through the monster’s carefully crafted facade. Perhaps if the elf had never saved the Banite all those years ago—when he was little more than a blurred and distant memory—his own fate might have unfolded differently, perhaps even more mercifully. But regrets have long since lost their weight. The past is immutable, and all that remains—all that truly matters to him now—is the purpose that once again draws him into this treacherous den.

And on a personal note; I'm still squealing and shoving this artwork into the face of everyone I meet irl. I absolutely adore it. I'm not sure I'll be stopping with that soon. You will see reblogs.

Again. Tragedy. I mean it. There's fluffy moments, but I will absolutely exploit them to enhance the pain. I'm dead serious about Bhaal being able to learn from me. I caused his kid more agony than he could ever dream of delivering. And I haven't even shared the worst parts yet.

Edit: I also mean the psychological warfare tag. It's my guilty pleasure. And whatever over one year of obsession amounts to.

[taintandviolent]

From smut prompts can you do a combo of 2 and 57 for Remy Lebeau x female!Reader?

Love your writing and can’t wait for part 2 of Taco tuesday!

warnings: smut (doggy-style), dirty talk, uhhhhhh i dunno what else. mirror sex? yeah.

His groans are more frequent, breathing ragged. Suddenly, he reaches around to your face, his strong hand gripping your jaw, straightening your head gently. Your eyes are still closed, painfully heavy with arousal. He’s fucked you senseless, and without his current support, you can barely hold your head up. 

“Look at your reflection, cher.” he murmurs. His voice is sultry, laden with arousal and you peel your lids back, swallowing hard. You’re suddenly faced with your own reflection; the mirror on the back of your door. It’s parallel to your bed, and until right then, you somehow forgot that. To Remy, it had been an intentional, calculated move. The position you two were currently in was one that felt impersonal to him sometimes, but because you had a mirror, he still got to enjoy all the subtle nuances of your arousal, and the way you responded to his body.

Doing it doggy-style, you’re on your knees and elbows, and Remy is tall behind you, all brawn. Your eyes flit to your own image somewhat apprehensive, for no man has ever made you look at yourself during sex and you’re not sure what you’re about to find. To your surprise, it’s not embarrassing, nor is it something that kills your high. 

The way the light filters in from your bedroom window casts you in a dreamy yellow haze, flushing your skin with a light glow. Your gaze is lust blown, your cheeks are flushed, your ample cleaveage is rocking back and forth with the force of his movements, and your hair mussed up from where he’d been holding onto it. He thrusts his hips into you once, hard, and your expression contorts into one of pleasure, body shuddering against the action. Seeing it in the mirror is a new experience, but the visual turns you on even more. If you were going to be honest with yourself, you were hot.  

You grip the sheets, making fists in the fabric as Remy hammers into you. Your jaw drops, and a low, erotic moan of pleasure tumbles out over your flushed lips. He, too, looks so good – the way his handsome features look almost tormented with pleasure, the way he’s moving against you, his muscles rippling with each exertion. 

“Look at how gorgeous you are.” He continues, his words choppy from the power of his thrusts. Despite that, his voice is deep and commanding, and he holds your hips, using them as leverage for his thrusts. “So gorgeous when I’m fuckin’ you like ‘dis. So pretty for me, and only for me, huh?”

You’re only able to moan in response as the sensations overwhelm you. He’s hitting all the right spots, taking you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. 

“Ain’t ‘dat right, cher?” He urges, watching you in the mirror. You nod, breathlessly. He cocks a languid, half-smile; pleased that you’re appreciating yourself, even a little bit. If you saw yourself through his eyes… 

He suddenly leans forward, pressing his toned stomach against your back, and urging himself farther inside of you. His voice, when he speaks, is husky and low, almost a growl. 

“I ain’t sharin’ you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and Remy gonna’ make you remember ‘dat.”.

The way he fucks you then is ruthless, staying true to his previous claim. His hips hammer into yours, cock bullying your cunt with reckless abandon. Your arousal climbs higher, and higher until it reaches a peak; you can’t hold it back any longer Your eyes fly open again, brows pulled together in tortured lust, as the coil snaps and you collapse the front half of your body forward, soaking him and arching your back up until it aches.

Remy’s close behind you, but his stamina is better than yours. Another new experience; men usually come first (too quickly, at that), but not him. He’s got you in ten different positions, three orgasms deep before he paints your insides. 

“Ah, cher… c’mere.”