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#i cannot believe it's actually done but it is here it is

forgotten-daydreamer · 2 days

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"I hate how they're writing Damian in Batman #146, he can't be that dumb, he's so ooc."

I mean, they're writing him almost as if he were a literal child who wants, no, needs to believe that his father's ideals aren't as fucked up as his mother's, who blindly believes in the man whom he learnt to trust despite being raised with widely different beliefs and ideals for the majority of his so-far short life.

Almost as if Damian were a pre-teen, or young teen at most (because how old can he be here, 13? 14?) who desperately clings onto the belief, onto the hope that his father hasn't really abandoned him, because his father is Batman, and Batman always has a plan, doesn't he? Obscure, complex, but a plan nonetheless, and it (almost) always turns out fine, so Damian needs to trust him, he knows he can, he knows that Batman is safe.

Logically, everyone else is older; I think the one whose age he's closest to might be Tim here, who's about 18 as usual, I guess. But Damian is a child, he's a child who's overall relatively new to Batman's antics, and he's a child who (unfortunately) rarely saw the difference between Batman and Bruce Wayne, a child who rarely got to meet Bruce Wayne at all, if you think of it.

You (you readers, not the characters in the story - because it makes sense for them to be so lost in the plot of their world that they lose sight of things) cannot blame a child for being delusional for believing with his whole heart that his father is not an evil bastard who's attacking everyone, allies included, family included. Because again, Damian doesn't really have a clear idea of how Batman and Bruce Wayne differ, he rarely got the priviledge to be with his father, Bruce Wayne, and not with his work partner, Batman.

You (readers) cannot really tell me that you're putting the blame on a child for 'snapping out of it' so late.

Of course, everyone is free to have their opinions, and if you think that this version of Damian is ooc or whatever, it's a valid, let's agree to disagree. But from a narrative pov, you can't possibly deny that it makes sense for Damian to be acting like this. He's a child, a literal child.

Expecting him to regulate his emotions as well as his sibs do is messed up. Which, by the way, they don't. Dick is a mess but keeping it together - except for the whole "punching your father senseless" thing, but good for him, I'd have done the same there. Jason is a mess and doesn't try to hide it, Steph is baffled and Babs is exhausted. The others are nowhere to be seen (and I'd have done the same pt2). Tim's the only one with a plan that's actually somewhat good - hope he makes Bruce snap out of his fear-induced little gateaway once and for all.

I know not many are fans of this run, but honestly? I'm digging it, it's possibly one of my faves. I love the drama, love the angst, love the plot-twists, like Damian snapping out of it just for Zur to silence him? Backup Robin who grins suspiciously like Jason? Tim ditching his phone - which is ossibly the most shocking thing? I'm hyped as hell.

All of this endless yapping to say that, okay, feel free to hate this or whatever, but please be humble enough to admit that Damian is being written exactly like he should be. I get it, DCAU gave us "Damian who talks like an old man, who never smiles and doesn't understand his peers" and it's cool. He's a bit like that in the comics too. But newer comics have a (very welcome, imho) tendency to write him as 'awkward' while simultaneously keeping in mind that he's a teen. And it's the best thing ever.

I, for one, needed reassurance at Damian's age. I needed an anchor and that anchor were my parents - growing up, the dynamics shifted but it's not the point. At 13, 14, or whatever Damian's age is, you're just a child who needs reassurance, because you're changing, the world around you is changing, and you're disoriented as if lost at sea. Writing Damian like that makes sense, it's not even up for debate.

He's not ooc, and he's not dumb either.

He's just a child.

Feel free to dislike how they're writing him, feel free to dislike literally every single detail about everything, this is a free world. But please don't tell me that needing a parental figure to be there for you, and that siding with said parental figure no matter what because they're essentially all you got left (rip batfam I guess?) - is ooc for a child. Damian is a child, don't forget that.

#deactivated rbs bc you guys can't behave.#my comeback post after a post-mania depressive episode being pure nerd yapping? yeah.#i still dont feel well enough to answer dms and on ao3 but i see you guys. give me some time. i promise to answer and thank everyone <3 #also if this post upsets you dont bother with death threats. my bpd does not make me politically correct.#if you can elaborate then i'll listen gladly - love to hear different opinions. but if you're rude you're automatically blocked.#batman 146 #batman 145 #gotham war #zur en arrh #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #robin #batman 147

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muddyorbsblr · 1 day

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the final Lady Sharpe part 5: sent away

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: Your plans with Thomas are coming to an end as his machine parts arrive and you both head into the city to set into motion Lucille's arrest.

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k (get a drink ready)

Warning/s: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers exit the room i only ask nicely once); vaginal fingering; oral sex (f receiving); Lucille Sharpe (yes she's a warning) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: married blorbos are snowed in (oh no how terrible 😈😏); Thomas is a simp for his wife; mutual pining sad blorbos hours

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "If we cannot lay together, then at least let me pleasure you." and ends at "…except one somber truth"

Logically there was no good reason why Thomas would wake this morning in a significantly better mood, considering that he was still stuck in this manor, a death sentence care of his psychotic murderous sister still looming over your head, and tasked with a nightly distraction that even the mere thought of it made his stomach want to turn. And yet somehow, in these few moments when he got to rouse from sleep before you did, getting to really look upon your features at a seemingly peaceful rest while he held you in his arms, there was a contentment that blanketed him and kept him warm despite the biting cold of winter.

If he could keep even at least this after this treacherous endeavor was done with, if he could keep you, then perhaps he could believe himself still deserving of happiness despite all the devastation he'd wrought throughout the years. There was no version of the near future that he could picture where he would be denied the simplest pleasure of getting to see you, perhaps even hold you. And with those thoughts, his mood had begun to sour, fully knowing that that was what awaited him at the end of the road. Dissolution of marriage.

And he couldn't even fault you for that. Why would you wish to stay with him given the context on why he'd chosen to court you? Why would you have any reason to believe him if he could muster up the courage to tell you that he'd fallen irretrievably in love with you and that he wanted more than anything to try to make this marriage work? To make it real?

He traced the back of his finger across your cheekbone, his heart twisting and melting all at once when you smiled and nuzzled your cheek against his chest. "I love you," he whispered, hoping that somehow his message would reach into your dreams. "I don't want you to leave if we make it through this. I wish to stay with you. Wherever you wish to go, I'll happily follow."

You began to stir in his arms, soft groans coming from you as you slowly roused in your husband's embrace. "Hmm?" The baronet's heart caught in his throat when your eyes fluttered open and met his, a soft smile stretching across your face. "Morning..."

He couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, doing his best to fight back the desire to do nothing more than simply to stay in bed just like this when you rewarded him with such a lighthearted, melodic giggling in response. "Good morning, wife."

"Big day today," you mumbled, failing to fight back a yawn as you worked your way out of his embrace to sit up on the bed. "Your machine parts arrive today if your supplier and the postal service is on schedule. I just have to get all the duplicate documents I've had hidden away in your workshop together so I can send them over to my contacts in Scotland Yard." Excitement colored your features as you reached for his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "It's almost over. We actually did it. You're almost free."

Thomas' stomach dropped as the reality of the situation dawned on him, mentally counting back on how long it had been since he carried you in his arms across the threshold of Allerdale Hall and you concocted a plan that might grant him his freedom from Lucille's reign of terror. Three and a half weeks. He would be expecting the notice from the post office any day now. Tears prickled in the back of his eyes as your words haunted him.

You'll be free from me, too.

You seemed oblivious to the darkness that begun to plague him as you bounded your way over to the wardrobe, starting to dress yourself so that you two could grab something to eat. And check on your mail for the day.

Thomas made his way to you, gently placing his hands over yours while you did up the buttons up the back of your dress. "May I?"

"Go ahead," you said breathily, releasing your hold on the stiff buttons. Your husband took his time carefully slipping each stiff button through its loop, softly kissing your temple as he worked his way up your back.

He rushed to grab for your collar piece before you reached for it, making you both break out into light chuckles as he tightened his other arm around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek once he'd successfully grabbed the piece of fabric. "Never pictured you to be the type that had a playful mood, husband," you giggled, righting yourself and gathering your hair in your hands so he could secure the piece around your neck.

Before he could stop himself, he pressed his lips to the back of your neck, the sound of your staggered breathing and faint whimper spurring him on to press another. And another. All so that the words that danced on the tip of his tongue couldn't escape. Come back to bed. I wish to hold you a while longer. I have no desire to leave this room.

And the most dangerous words of all. Words that he never thought he would say to another and fully mean them. I love you. And I wish to spend the rest of my life with you.

"Thomas," you gasped his name like you were fighting for breath, reaching behind you and holding on to him to keep yourself upright. He groaned against your neck when your hand met the bare skin of his stomach. "What's gotten into you?"

His adamant words from many nights ago nearly slipped from his lips. You're my wife. I should be with you. It should be you.

"Can I not simply indulge in greeting my wife--"

The sharp rapping of knuckles on your bedroom door pulled you both harshly out of the moment, worsened by the shrill tone of Lucille on the other end. "If you both dawdle about, breakfast will get cold."

"We'll be down shortly, Lucille, just start without us," you called back, muttering something about mood ruiners. "We should go," you told him with a downhearted exhale, your breath hitching again when it seemed that the last few moments seemed to have no effect on Thomas, who resumed with kissing along the column of your neck. "Thomas, didn't you hear your sister? Breakfast will get cold."

"Then we'll eat it cold, darling," he mumbled, setting your collar piece back down on your dresser so he could wrap his arms around you. He turned you around in his arms, mesmerized as he watched your hair slip from your hand and fall to frame your face. "Have I told you how exquisite you look in the morning light?"

You broke out into a smile, averting your gaze from his as you made a motion to step out of his hold. "Thomas come on, we should go you need to--"

"Or how I think you're absolutely brilliant?" he cut you off, framing your face in his hands before pressing a tender kiss to your lips. Will I ever get to tell you that I've fallen in love with you? he thought to himself, savoring the fleeting moment where you returned his kiss before breaking it, taking a step backward and looking visibly flustered.

There was a long moment of deafening quiet before you spoke again, your tone soft, almost wistful. "If you keep this up, Sir Sharpe, I'll have no choice but to miss you when this is all over." Your expression became guarded, veiling to your husband the poignant fact that you, too, dreaded what would come after today.

The truth was that you already missed him, longed for him, even when he was already within your arm's reach. Just as he longed for you.

"There is still no mail that has come for your wife, Thomas," Lucille seethed the moment she made his way to his side as he fixed some tea for both of you. "I am growing quite impatient, it's nearly been a month and still no correspondence regarding her inheritance has come for her. In fact, no correspondence has come for her at all. As if there isn't a single soul that even cares to check up on her. Keep in touch. Could it be possible, sweet boy, that this Y/N is playing us for fools?"

A lump formed in Thomas' throat at his sister's suggestion, panic rising inside of him knowing how close her speculation actually was to the truth. "She did mention her father was quite the busy man, perhaps he has been overwhelmed with his work and will reach out soon."

"Well the old fool better hurry," she hissed. "The sooner we get what we need from this one, the sooner we can build toward an even better life together. Perhaps even make our way out of this decaying house. Finally let it sink to the ground."

The only better life I can envision is with the woman waiting for me at the dining table, he wanted so desperately to bite back. "Has any correspondence arrived for me, sister?" He struggled to keep his composure, forcing a smile on his face as he faced her cold, calculating features. How could you ever have convinced me that what we had, what you had me do, was love?

She was visibly taken aback by how he diverted the conversation, no longer speaking in a hushed tone and ensuring that you could hear from where you sat. "There--There is. A notice that those parts you ordered for your machine have come in. You'll need to sign for them at the post office."

"Excellent, I can bring Y/N along with me. Make a day of it."

Your face lit up at the mention of the notice. His supplier was perfectly within schedule. The end of your time together truly was drawing near; nearer than he ever wanted. "I would love to come with you to the city, husband," you beamed at him. "There are some letters I wish to send to my family as well. Keep them apprised of what I've been up to since getting married. All about Allerdale Hall and its rich history."

"That sounds like a perfect idea," Lucille told you both through gritted teeth. "I hope you two have a lovely time, then. Do try to get home before the blizzard strikes." Before Thomas made his way back to you, Lucille grabbed his arm in a talon-like grip. "The moment any form of correspondence comes for her, you are to tell me right away, dear brother. My patience can only last for so long."

"Ah, Miss Y/L/N, aren't you quite the sight to behold. How long has it been since you've aided us in a case with your expansive knowledge?" Detective Jeffries, a colleague of yours from Scotland Yard, was there to pick up his own mail from the post office and bumped into you and Thomas right as you arrived.

"Too long, Jeffries. Hopefully not so long that you'd all forgotten that the reason for my prolonged absence has been my acclimation to married life. I actually go by Lady Sharpe now," you politely corrected him, giving his hand a firm shake before gesturing toward your husband. There was a noticeable pinch at your heart calling yourself that. Lady Sharpe. You wouldn't be for long if things worked out according to plan. "I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Sir Thomas Sharpe. Lord of Allerdale Hall."

There was a fleeting moment of pure glee on Thomas' face at your introduction before he settled into a more cordial expression, stepping forward to shake the detective's hand. "Good to meet you, Detective," he greeted, placing his other hand on the small of your back before stepping back to your side. "I shall go see to my deliveries now, darling." Before he walked away and let you catch up with your colleague, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, giving you a soft smile before walking further into the post office for his parcel.

"And here I once recalled a feisty consultant insisting that she'd never fall in love or become the marrying type," Jeffries teased, wagging a finger at you as if to tell you 'I told you so'. "Matrimony becomes you, though, my friend. Both you and your husband are positively radiant with your adoration for one another. It doesn't take a detective to notice that."

His remark sat heavily in your heart, every part of you struggling not to give it away that the words struck a nerve. This marriage was a sham, and it would all be over soon. Thomas was just doing a remarkable job at pretending, and you…you didn't have to. Out here in public, feeding into the image of a newlywed couple happily in love, this was the only time you could let your love for him show. To communicate the sentiment that you would never dare to with words.

"Right well uhm…" You cleared your throat, shaking your head as if to shoo the conversation away. "What you said about aiding you all with a case…that's actually what I came here for. You remember those cases on the board that we could never make any headway on? Enola Sciotti? Edith Cushing? Pamela Upton? All missing persons cases?"

"Don't tell me you were spending your honeymoon investigating these cases, Y/N, that's simply depressing--"

"I didn't actively seek out the information, I stumbled into it," you cut him off, clutching the envelope of documents in your hand with a death grip. "Married into it, really."

Sheer horror colored your friend's features, throwing a look at the baronet currently making small talk with the workers inside as he signed for his parcels. "He--"

"No, Jeffries, not him. His sister. Lucille Sharpe. Right piece of work, that one. Sad to say they're no longer 'missing persons' cases." You placed the envelope into his hands, holding his gaze and hoping that he could see the desperation in your eyes. "These are copies of death certificates, marriage certificates, and money transfers. It paints a morbid timeline that will tell you what happened, what's been happening, behind the doors of Allerdale Hall. I've also made a transcript from recordings I found from a phonograph. One of his former wives caught a confession from Lucille Sharpe. There's a map of the manor in there as well, showing you where you'll find all the original documents and the recording cylinders."

"Y/N, if this is all true, you're not safe in that manor." His tone was laced with more than understandable concern. "Neither of you are."

"That's why I need you to get those documents to Scotland Yard as soon as you can and come to Allerdale Hall to arrest Lucille," you told him, your own fears starting to creep into your words as they stumbled out of your mouth. "She's already getting stir-crazy waiting for an inheritance to come to me that doesn't even exist. We've only barely managed to convince her that there's a windfall coming my way, but it won't be long until she grows impatient enough to kill me anyway and start fresh. Jeffries, we can't let her harm another woman for the sake of satiating her bottomless pit of hunger for money and status."

Now the detective clutched the documents tightly in his grasp, giving you a nod before flagging down a carriage. "We should have a squad there tomorrow. Until then you two stay safe. Perhaps try and spend the night elsewhere, just to make sure." He reached out to you, both of you grasping the other's forearm in a show of trust and respect. "Thank you, Y/L/N--I mean, Sharpe. You're about to bring closure to a whole lot of distraught families with this."

You only nodded, fear for your own safety creating a lump in your throat you found near impossible to swallow. "Let's focus on putting Lucille behind bars before we focus on what comes after. Thank you, Jeffries." You closed the door to the carriage and tapped on the wooden panel twice. "To Scotland Yard!" you called out to the coachman, who tipped his hat to you before the carriage began to move.

As you made your way back into the post office, you tried to force a wide smile onto your face, stomping down any fears you had for what awaited you once you made your way back to Allerdale Hall. And any anticipation you had for the heartache that would accompany your inevitable divorce.

Once you were within arm's reach, Thomas reached for your hand, pulling you towards him and wrapping his free arm around your waist before softly kissing your lips. "There you are, sweetheart." He quickly noticed the absence of the envelope from your hands. "It's done?"

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. "It's done," you confirmed. "We really did it."

The entire time that Thomas inspected the coil springs and other machine parts that were delivered for him, he kept his arm around your waist, his hand over yours and lacing your fingers together. His face was a mix of emotions, the plainest to see being relief, no doubt from the realization steadily creeping in that in a few short days he truly would be free from all of this.

There was a disquiet in his eyes, too. One that he tried so hard to mask, but you'd gotten to know him well enough ever since your courtship that no smile, no matter how bright or breathtaking, could ever mask it from you. And you knew exactly where his concern lied. It wouldn't take long for Scotland Yard to conclude that even though he had not been the one administering the potion, or the one holding the cleaver, he still bore a great amount of responsibility for the deaths of all his former wives.

Thomas would be seen as an accomplice to his sister's crimes; perhaps a case could even be argued for third-degree murder because of his administering of the cyanide. Sure the documents would reveal Lucille to be the mastermind, but they would also reveal that in some of those cases that had gone cold, Thomas was partly the executioner.

You flinched in his hold when the sound of the post office's main doors slamming shut hit your ears, all of you inside turning your heads toward the man holding the handles, a frantic look in his eyes. "The storm's gotten too strong," he huffed out, slumping to the ground. "No carriages in or out of the area, if the lot of us value our safety."

Your husband let out a sigh of relief, holding you closer against him before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Perhaps when we arrive at the manor tomorrow we need not even face her," he whispered into your hair.

"Yes, and while that is a marvelous turn of events, husband, we are faced with one…tiny problem." He tilted his head at you slightly, prompting you to continue. "We're still stuck here, and the nearest inn to rent a room is a good walk away. In this storm we'd likely freeze before we even reached the front door."

"Ah, yes…that," he murmured, brows knitted together as he tried to look around the post office for a possible place to pass the time.

"Erm…we might have something that could house yous," one of the workers spoke up, jerking his head towards the back of the office, signaling for you to follow him. "We 'ave a little suite here set up for whenever the owner comes by and wants to spend a few days in the city. Sure he won't mind if you use it for tonight."

He opened the doors to reveal a quaint bedroom that felt a far cry from the echoes of faded opulence that your room in Allerdale Hall held, and yet still emanated the feel of a warm embrace that home was supposed to feel like. When you looked upon Thomas, you could see from his expression that he likely held a similar sentiment.

"This will do more than fine," he stated, holding out his hand to the worker to shake. "Thank you."

"So now that your grievous time with Lucille is finally coming to a close, what are your plans for…well, the rest of your life? Your freedom?" you asked Thomas through the divider in the room, trying to keep your tone casual as you changed into your underdress, preparing for sleep.

He answered you with a sharp huff. "In truth, darling, I haven't even begun to think about it yet. I feel as if I am not completely in the clear yet. Best to focus my attention on that first before thinking about what I wish for my freedom to look like."

You took out the final pin in your hair, setting it down on the little table by the window, next to your blades, before stepping out from behind the divider, your husband immediately catching sight of the furrowed brows and the grimace on your face. "I'm sure Scotland Yard will have a degree of leniency, considering that Lucille's arrest will lead to the closing of multiple cold cases on their board."

"That was entirely your work, Y/N. Your work in making the arrest possible is all that they will see--"

"And I wouldn't have been able to accomplish any of it if I didn't have help," you cut him off, making your way over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders, giving him a slight shake. "Not just from the spirits in that house, but from you. If I didn't have you in my corner, I would've been caught that first night. I know that I owe you a great debt for what you--"

The rest of your words died in a muffled squeak as he pulled you to him, the jerking motion causing you to straddle him on the bed as he captured your lips in a sudden kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his lips moving against yours, his hands roaming your body freely until they buried themselves in your hair.

He groaned against you, the sound melting into the sweetest sounding whimper when you crossed your hands behind his neck, pulling him closer. This would be the last night that you could call him your husband; perhaps you could allow yourself a sliver of indulgence. When he broke the kiss, he wrapped his arm securely around your waist before flipping you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress with a soft thud.

"My beautiful, brilliant wife," he rasped, the gravelly tone of his voice sending thrills up your spine. He proceeded to kiss along your neck, softly sucking at the base of your throat while he undid the tie at the top of your underdress. A mix between a gasp and a moan escaped you when he hooked your leg around his waist, pressing your hips together.

"Thomas what are you doing?" you asked him dumbly, breathlessly. "We don't need to do this tonight. Or ever again--"

"I want to," he mumbled, pressing a kiss above your heart. "I wish to lay with you, Y/N Sharpe." He kissed his way back up to your lips, looking at you with those pleading pup-like eyes that made him near impossible to resist. That whittled your resolve down to nearly nothing. "Please…"

You were finding it increasingly difficult to deny him, especially with how he was pressed against you, and you could feel his erection even through the layers of his trousers and what sheer clothing you had on yourself. And considering how you'd come to feel about him in the weeks past, how alarmingly quickly you recovered from the shock of his true predicament and the actual circumstances of your marriage, and you still found yourself falling so recklessly in love with him, most parts of you wanted nothing more than to say yes to him.

But then there was the borderline unwelcome party in your internal argument. The logical voice in your head that rationalized his actions as an overwhelming gratitude mistaken for desire. That you had done so much to get him out of the diabolical inescapable captivity that Lucille manipulated him into, and he couldn't articulate his gratitude to the point that in his mind, he saw it as an urge to lay with you.

"Thomas…" you said his name slowly, trying so hard to keep your head level and work against your more primal urge to just shout your assent. Taking deep breaths wasn't any help; it just pressed your bodies closer together, the slightest shift in his hips threatening to drive you mad. "Think about this for a moment…Wouldn't you rather wait until you could lay with someone that you love?"

There was a split second where a pained look crossed his face, before he leaned back down to softly capture your lips, moaning into the kiss when you threaded your fingers through his curls. "I wish to at least do something for you." He kissed you again before presenting you with another all too tempting offer. "If we cannot lay together, then at least let me pleasure you."

He kissed a trail along your jaw, his breath warming your skin before he traced the shell of your ear with his tongue. His next words had you letting out a whimper of his name, your desire for him that had been simmering for weeks now starting to boil over.

"I've been reading through the books in the manor's library, and all I wish to do is show you what I've learned. To explore these avenues of pleasuring with you. My wife. Please. Let me at least do that."

Another whimper escaped you, the only sound you could manage to make as you finally relented and nodded your head. There was a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he scanned your face, eyes never leaving yours as his hand made its way under your dress and up between your legs. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan once his fingers made contact with your slick arousal, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a half-smile.

He breathed your name, carefully studying every detail of your face as he traced up along the length of your slit, his mouth breaking out into a devilish grin when you arched your back off the bed, screaming for him when he touched the hardened bundle of nerves above your entrance. "Exquisite," he rasped, repeating the motion and causing you to let out a sharp moan. You could only manage a whimper when he started to kiss along your collarbone while those sinful fingers kept on stroking you, dipping into your warmth before making their way back to your clit.

Before long you felt a tension at your lower stomach, begging to be released. Whenever you'd reached this point in your solitude, back in the city, from your own touch, you would close your legs. The sensation was too great and you would stop yourself. Catch your breath. Having your husband situated between your legs made it impossible to close them now, his fingers still diligently stroking you. "Thomas p-please," you squeaked, struggling to breathe. "'S too m-much for me."

"Not enough," he muttered against your skin, stroking at you faster as he kissed at your collarbone. "Let go, darling. I've got you." He pressed an open mouthed kiss to your neck, flicking his tongue against the spot and letting out a whimper that sent you over the edge, your walls fluttering and clenching around nothing as he continued to stroke at your clit.

Thomas proceeded to kiss down your chest while you tried to catch your breath, pulling back his fingers from you to firmly hold on to your hips, pinning you to the bed as his lips descended further down. You uttered his name in a breathless question, your heart beating even faster when his hands moved to hike your underdress up your legs and place your thighs on his shoulders.

"I'm not done yet," he said with a whimper, kissing his way up your inner thigh and looking up to meet your eyes, his pupils blown out so wide his eyes were near black. Shining with a sincerity that stole what air remained from your lungs. "I wish to taste you."

"Thomas what are you--Oh!" You arched your back off the bed once more, letting out an obscene moan as he licked up your entrance and closed his mouth around the oversensitized nub above it. The sight of his onyx curls subtly moving with every bob of his head, his hands grasping your thighs to keep you in place, immediately burned itself into your memory.

You would remember every devastatingly pleasurable moment of tonight for as long as you'd live. Remember him.

It wasn't long before he brought you to the brink of orgasm again, mercilessly flicking his tongue against you until you came undone, your husband making you ride his tongue while you came down from your high. Soft groans slipped from his mouth while he licked away at your release, kissing along your inner thighs again when he brought the fabric of your underdress over your legs again.

There were no words left in your mind except one somber truth. "You're going to make a fortunate woman very happy in the future, Mister Sharpe."

Thomas couldn't sleep that night, holding your sleeping form in his arms as he absently stroked at your hair. His life felt like a stick of dynamite that could set off and crumble around him at any moment now; while he allowed himself to feel a touch of relief that soon he would finally be free from Lucille and her wretched ways, that freedom came at a heart-wrenching price.

You.

Your words before you went slack in his hold haunted him, ringing constantly in his mind now like an eerie church choir. You're going to make a fortunate woman very happy in the future, Mister Sharpe.

His day ended the same way it began, watching your peaceful features as your head rested on his chest. With him speaking words he hoped would somehow reach you in your dreams. "I want to make you happy, Y/N." He didn't bother fighting back the tears that welled in his eyes as the thought slammed into him that this may very well be the last night he had with you.

And then you would disappear from his life. You'll be free from me, too.

"I don't want to be free of you," he whispered through the suppressed sobs. "I wish to be free with you. I love you, Y/N Sharpe." He pressed his lips to your forehead, a tear rolling down his cheek as he did so. "Please don't leave me."

A/N: In today's episode of "YN is stronger than all of us" 🥴 I know that this is super slow going but I promise there are plans to guide me through writing the rest of the series and I'll get to finishing it 🫡

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe smut #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #the final lady sharpe #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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heartof-lion · 20 hours

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Hades 2, and while I'll forever be on my 'you actually can do a retelling of the Hades/Persephone myth without treating Demeter like a helicopter parent AND giving her her justified rage, yes I'm looking at you Lore Olympus' bullshit.

Spoilers I guess as I got to the part of the game that isn't developed yet. I'll put them under Read More

Pro's:

This is a very well polished Early Access. I've yet to encounter a bug, and I can live with the fact that some image tiles don't exist yet, and some are just plain drawings.

All the minor deities/Mythological folk are done well. I'm never forgiving them for the lack of Ariadne (include her you cowards, you can include a Dead God, give me my girl). I do in fact keep wanting to punt Narcissus and I cannot wait for his image tile. He better be the twinkiest twink to ever exist. Echo, my poor girl, I just want to hug her.

Heracles, my beloved, they did your very justified rage right. You keep trying to tell Mel, And honestly I'm with you my guy. It is bullshit she gets all these Boons and you have to literally fight for it. Every time I get a Hera Boon I just want you to shake Mel and be like 'RUN GIRL'

Moros, don't make me love you, I'm trying here.

I'm loving how we're getting to see the effects of their dark side too.

Chronus. Death to Chronus but lord he terrifying. Eris is exactly the kind of maniacal shit stirrer she ought to be and I'm tossing your apple away the first chance I get. Icarus is obviously Bae (or was at one point) and oh honey.

Hecate and her Witches (Medea! Circe!) are exactly the kind of terrifying powerhouses they ought to be and while I won't forgive them for the six pack (WHY) she's just so Good. Caring, strict, and truly a believer in Mel and her task. Solid Mom A+

Cons:

Obviously it's not finished yet but for 30$ it's solid. I don't appreciate having to pay to be a Game Tester (pay people for that), but for a game I've looked forward to, for an independent studio? Sure, yeah I did it for Nightingale and that's literally just sticks and hopes. This is far more polished.

The story and its infinite replayability seems obvious in that literal Time will just rewind to where you don't defeat him, but I really hope you can pull the family out of their prison.

You have to fight the Goodest Boy. You maniacs, he's just sad, let me just pet him :(

Odysseus is great. But if he doesn't come off like the worst Crypto Bro that will not only have you believe in Crypto, but will also make you a fortune for you to realize he's ran off with 90% of it, but you have an infinite invitation to the castle he bought with your gains, he feels off. He's too nice. Also it feels wrong to romance him.

But this is funny

'Believe you got on his bad side' YOU ABSOLUTE NERD.

More when it's more finished I guess.

#hades 2 #spoilers

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fezwearingjellybananas · 14 days

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Old Friends

Part of Iris had always known she would one day meet a young and star-struck Eobard Thawne and she wouldn't be able to be who he wanted her to be.

She should have realised it was always going to be April 2024 [Part of The Flash & Hawkgirl] (T, 11.6k words)

The Flash (TV 2014)

[Iris West, Kendra Saunders], [Cisco Ramon, Barry Allen], Eobard Thawne, Zari Tomaz, Rip Hunter, Eobard Thawne, Ensemble

Major Character Death

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Iris West is The Flash, One-sided Iris West/Eobard Thawne, Creepy Eobard Thawne, Multiple Timelines

June, 2041

Going to Central was a mistake. Zari was sure. Central City was where all this had started. It was still where A.R.G.U.S. had the highest presence.

Still where they faced most resistance, according to Behrad. The Gem Cities hadn’t given up on the Flash returning yet.

They should. She was long gone. There was no one who could face A.R.G.U.S.

[Continued on AO3]

#c'est fin #i cannot believe it's actually done but it is here it is #dc tv universe #dc #iris x kendra #barry x cisco #iris west #kendra saunders #cisco ramon #actually barry's not here much but the flashvibe is still going on #look i wrote a thing #the flash & hawkgirl #*

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celestialwife · 1 month

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sometimes i just think about poe and it's like. i can't believe you mean this much to me? literally ahead of tfa i just kept scoffing at the descriptions of him, completely expected to be benevolently annoyed with him or meh at best and didn't understand why everyone went off abt how oscar was attractive (like i could tell objectively, but it's rare that i find someone subjectively attractive on a deep level), and then i just. saw poe for the first time on screen in theaters and that was it. instant attraction, and then a few minutes later realizing that oh, no i'm genuinely in love with this man. instant ride or die, we just clicked. i got him on a deeply intimate level just from those few minutes of screentime he has in the movie, that nothing about him following that ever surprised me? just. yeah that's him this makes sense.

and i remember writing what was absolutely self-insert masquerading as canon where r.ey was his best friend and i genuinely meant for it to be platonic but i kept accidentally writing a little bit something more and i genuinely think looking back on it that i probably had a crush and a squish on poe? and he may have started queerplatonic, leaning on alterous (if i'm understanding the term right). like it wasn't straight platonic because i genuinely had/have such a crush on him but it definitely wasn't straight romantic at the time either (and i still have moments where i'm like. yeah i'm definitely feeling qp feelings for him and not romantic ones). and then sometime in 2017, something I guess shifted and I wrote in an oc into that same fic who had a history with him and they both still had feelings for each other and they kissed at the end of the story but didn't wind up with each other, and then i started reading reader fic for him that same year and was like. oh I actually don't mind the idea of kissing him....i kinda wanna. and i also don't mind the idea of a relationship if it's with him, i even want it?

and like ofc things went sideways from there. i stopped reading fic bc my friend made fun of me for reading it and i felt like i was doing smth "wrong" and then the gaslighting of everyone hating him in t.lj when i didn't also severely impacted my ability to be able to enjoy him properly without trying to fold up my actual opinions to 'fit in' more and feeling anxious and not getting to enjoy it, but he was still such a cornerstone of comfort for me at the time. i even wrote my first reader fic in late 2018 to get some comfort from how awful things were in my personal life and it was of him. and then t.ros happened and the fandom got so toxic along w some friend stuff that my spin in poe almost broke (or so i thought), but like?? i spent the whole next year constantly drawn to things that reminded me of poe....read a book that was compared to the st and him a lot....bought a lot of orange things without thinking about it, developed a crush on a character that's like. basically poe with the serial numbers scratched off. all until i found my way back to him at the end of 2020 🥰 and after that i started embracing reader fic again and my romantic feelings for him and then lmao the physical/sexual attraction came in like a wrecking ball shortly thereafter which was New To Say The Least, but.

eeee i don't know i ended up gushing a lot about him but i just. sometimes i really think about the journey i've had with him, and how much good he's genuinely brought into my life. i get to feel all these emotions i never thought i would!! because of him!!! i get to explore new avenues that i wouldn't be interested in or comfortable in pursuing even mentally bc of him!!! he's helped me work through various triggers for my trauma bc they feel safe with him involved? and most importantly - i wouldn't know any of my lovely friends or partners if it wasn't for him? i stuck around in the fandom bc of poe, and that lead me right to my queerplatonic partners and family. i genuinely would not!! be the same person today if i had not fallen in love with that silly flyboy december 20th 2015!!! and isn't that just love in a nutshell?

#hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i don't normally gush but i'm heavily caffeinated rn moreso than i've been in months #i just!!!!!!!!! i cannot believe!!!#sometimes i worry when i like. mildly dissociate thinking about him and my love/interest in him bc one time that genuinely broke a spin bc #i realized it was not doing anything for me positively. but with poe everytime i'm just like #my life would genuinely not be as joyful as it is if it weren't for you. i would not be who i am today if it wasn't for you.#(tch. might not be here generally speaking)#i just. i really went from scoffing at him to 'oh no he's hot' to 'oh i'm in love' to 'i want to be his best friend in a really intimate #way' (cos i didn't know what qp/alterous was at the time) to 'i might want to kiss him but i wouldn't imagine myself w him'#to 'oh. actually i don't mind thinking about kissing him or being in a relationship w him. actually i /want/ that.'#to having to swallow my feelings for him to be diplomatic/avoid conflict for two years while still utterly adoring him and being in love w #him to subconsciously finding my way back to him!!!!!#and deciding with grim determination i'd continue loving him as much as i wanted no matter what anyone else said and YES that meant getting #kiss him on his pretty mouth. and shipping my self insert with him PROPERLY where they end up together.#and then realizing stuff that's less pg-13!!!! but no less mind blowing. like i had THAT setting. what the hell.#i just. what a journey.#he's my sweet flyboy my absolute beloved my best friend my starlight i love him to pieces u guuuuuuuuuuuys #i've had a lot of comfort characters over the years and a handful of special interests - none of them have meant as much to me as poe #he is genuinely a part of me and who i am he's my soulmate and i wuv him #okay i'm done #nym speaks #flyboy 🧡

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tacagen · 11 months

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can we talk about how wrong the finish line ending is. can we talk about how barry sees snapping thawne's neck as their point of no return when thawne directly expressed hope barry can still live up to his idealised expectations several times and even spoke of how exactly he can achieve that. can we talk about how barry while having the best intentions fucks with thawne's speed and timeline resetting him to a humble curator with no powers and makes their situation a THOUSAND times worse when thawne comes back as reverse-flash because that reset is a direct and ultimate confirmation of barry's desire to forget thawne and make it like he never existed (the very thing that motivates thawne to mess with barry at all, the very thing he went insane about and which led him to becoming reverse-flash) and how thats similar to creation of the flashpoint which was done with good intentions and changed the world forever even after being undone. can we talk about how it also resembles lobotomy as in permanently fucking up persons brain and its necessary functions to make them more calm and controllable in their mental illness instead of actually helping them which takes a lot more time thought and effort and how that was a quick and seemingly effective but inherently destructive solution. can we talk about how barry by taking away eobard's powers also takes his freedom from societal expectations and standards of his time he clearly didnt fit in and 25th century in general. can we talk about how barry also took the only good memories thawne ever had aka their moments together and especially their first meeting which thawne saw as perfect and held very dearly just like any other interaction with barry including the reverse era ones. can we talk about how fucking intrusive, invalidating and selfish is the whole concept of erasing any kind of memories from another persons brain, no matter how hurtful or bad or self-sabotaging those can be especially involuntarily and how only the said person should have control over that because that is their damn life. can we talk about what such betrayal will do to a man who previously became the reverse-flash just because of one single phrase that he thought was something special only between him and barry. can we talk about how this time thawne paradoxically didnt even do anything to deserve that because he never met barry and never had such possibility in the first place. can we t

#reverse flash #eobard thawne #professor zoom #the flash #barry allen #eobarry ig?#listen i dont blame barry for that. thawne tortured him beyond any comprehension and the reset is understandable #that was one of the kindest solutions he could come up with considering the countless trauma thawne caused him. i get it. i see the effort.#but 1) im talking from thawne and his mental fucking issues perspective (and also my own bc he just like me fr)#like considering those HUGE ASS abandonment issues this is objectively the worst thing barry could ever do to him #2) also understandable but i cant believe barry (AND josh williamson.) didnt think ANY further than how Noble and Forgiving the reset is #he KNOWS thawne always comes back no matter what and yet he cannot make the logical conclusion that this will only hurt eo EVEN MORE #like my dude i get youre not on the best terms with timelines and changes to them but what youve done here is the ACTUAL point of no return #also i firmly believe that the 'peaceful' curator life is a fate worse than every death thawne ever experienced combined #there is so much potential in post!fl continuation where nothing in his life feels right and he can see the reverse era in his nightmares #i will make a separate post about it someday because i have So many thoughts on that that its a whole au at this point

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singsweetmelodies · 1 year

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tagged by @librasuncharles @cerona14 and @leclerctops to do the last lines of wips thing - thanks so much for thinking of me, loves 🥰 and sorry for taking so long/putting this off for a bit, bcs i was a little hesitant to enter into the disaster that is my WIPs folder lmao 🙈 but i have braved it! and here goes:

[redacted] winter exchange fic:

Charles would follow Pierre anywhere - he's always known that.

[redacted] 2nd winter exchange fic:

“Now come upstairs and show me how good you can be for me.”

fake dating au, chapter 7:

If anything, the problem will be that this kiss was too convincing.

monaco boat sex

"You. I just want you."

pierresteban kinkmeme prompt fill:

Esteban doesn't ask him to stay, and Pierre leaves without another word.

i have more wips than this (🙈) but i decided to limit myself to only ones which i have opened/added to some way in the year 2023. turns out i'm unintentionally being quite a tease with some of these lines, hehe... 🤭😌 good writing times!

now, uhhhh, i have literally no idea who has done this and who hasn't, so if you see this and you've been double-tagged... i'm sorry and i love you very much 🥺🥺 similarly, if you see this and you haven't been tagged, please please please feel free to @ me and say i tagged you! i always, always want to know more about people's wips 👀😍

now for my tags: @redyellowstupid, @welightitup, @effervescentdragon, @hourcat, @thepavementsings, @duquesademiel, @wolfiemcwolferson, @russiardo, @checkeredflagsandshit, if any of you lovelies feel like giving a sneak peek into what you're working on! 🥰

#WIPs tag #last line tag game #when i tell you that i didn't actually MEAN for there to be so many smut lines here.... akdhdjdvjdgdjdhdn #pls believe me #i just write that much smut lately apparently #🙈🙈#but also 😌#hehe 🤭#anyways truly sorry to anyone who's been double-tagged adkdhdkdvdjd #i am late as ever to this challenge and i canNOT keep up with who's done what 🥲🥲#apologies loves #ily all ❤️❤️#WIPs tag 📝

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