#(ironic i know. they should know better. it's their fucking job)

[sensazioneultra]

and before watching that film i was thinking (for the nth time, lately) about my workplace putting out my deadname for everyone to see and then telling me to my face that that'd help me "deal with actual mistreatment from the outside world". not kidding they literally tried to spin them basically outing me which wasn't intentional and could've been taken as a sign they need to do better into a positive thing that would help me deal with Real Transphobia in the future as if work wasn't a pretty fucking important part of my life that i need to be respected in too! AND as if i needed THEM to teach me about transphobia??????? like i swear the way this cis white woman said it it was like they had given me my first taste of transphobia ever GIRL I KNOW THIS SHIT I EXPERIENCE IT EVERY!!!! DAY!!!!!!! pissed me off so much

#it upset me so much at the time and it made going to work very difficult for a bit #then i guess i just. had to put it in the back of my mind if i wanted to be able to keep working as usual #and it did help that my coordinator was Actually supportive not like those in the h.r. or whatever it's called here lol #(ironic i know. they should know better. it's their fucking job) #so for a few months i didn't think about it but lately it's been on my mind again #it was bad... more than i let myself admit until not long ago #it didn't have disastrous consequences like on a concrete level like daily life at work didn't change #but it affected me deeply #like my workplace trying to teach me a trans person what a lil transphobia is like. awww. #fucked up lmao

[cluescorner]

There's no feeling stranger than knowing that something is bad but liking it anyways. Not in a 'it's so bad it's good' way. Because that implies that it has become good. I'm talking like this thing is just kinda bad in the normal ways things are bad, but i like it anyways.

#honestly I'm talking about Batgirls rn #because like...it has its moments but I wouldn't call it good. it even has some of my own personal pet peeves #specifically the overabundance of narration boxes that aren't from a character and rather the author is speaking to us. #if I wanted an overabundance Authors Notes I would read fucking early 2000s fanfics #and Babsgirl existing but I've made peace with the fact that we'll only get an Oracle story in a Black Label or similar thing at this point #I love the art and it has among my favorite designs for both Spoiler and Black Bat #don't get me STARTED on the covers holy fuck. the 90s rewind in particular lives in my head rent free because ajlkdfjdsalk;fjdlsa;kf #it also has both moments of REALLY FUCKING BAD characterization and REALLY FUCKING GOOD characterization #Cass being like 'ok but do we HAVE to save Seer?' horrible! demonstrates an egregious misunderstanding of her. what the hell? #Steph being abnormally good at solving the Riddler's puzzles and knowing basically every cipher because of Arthur? then getting incredibly #upset at even the MENTION of him to the point that she gets fucking stabbed by the RIDDLER of all people? #wow thanks for actually addressing a very interesting part of Steph's character that is often left by the wayside. good job. #issue 14 is amazing and it makes me want to implode every time I read it. like I actually recommend it without any caveats attached #it is straight up good. it's the high-point of Batgirls and it's not even close imo. #and wow! there is almost no dialogue and NO NARRATION BOXES?? #it's almost like the whole appeal of comics is telling incredible stories through art or something. and that when you have good art #and good art direction you should just fucking let it speak for itself or something #and that maybe using what words you DO have to let your CHARACTERS speak in a way they normally wouldn't is a good idea #even if the in universe reason is that Steph is basically leaving this note as a 'I am either dead or close to it' type of thing #like holy fuck how did they do that?? AND SO LATE IN THE GAME THAT NOBODY FUCKING TALKS ABOUT IT?? #and obviously there is a conversation to be had about 'was Batgirls queerbaiting' but honestly since it was cancelled IDK #I could see a universe where given time it could have made a natural shift to a love story between Steph and Cass #I'm not upset about it but I get why other people might be. there are some panels that like...come on. #and as always I am most fascinated by missed potential. because Batgirls showed that it COULD be good with Issue 14 #and arguably other of the better issues. the art was incredible and as the issues went on it felt like the kinks were getting ironed out #plus getting a series focused on 3 of my favorite characters was a dream come true for me. ESPECIALLY because we rarely get good #stuff for Cass and Steph.

[tacticaldiary]

Reader joining 141 for a mission and Simon is not having it and is pissed at price for calling them and all of the other guys are confused about why ghost is so upset till they find out reader is his wife after the mission

Maybe reader got hurt and ghost goes off on price

The Price Of A Secret

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive-"

"This is different." He grits out.

"And why's that?"

"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the table. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.

A/N: It's 2:45am and I have no energy to proofread caution advised-

Masterlist

The moment the picture of the intelligence officer joining them flashes on the screen, Ghost puts his foot down.

"She's not coming."

Everyone in the room pauses, Price staring at Ghost mid sentence. It's the usual 141, and then it's her. Sitting there with a mildly frustrated look, refusing to look at him because she should have known he'd try to pull some shit like this.

"Why not?" Price folds his arm, narrowing his eyes. "Is there an issue, Lieutenant?"

She was supposed to work from the inside, drawing out data and cracking through defences that they then passed on to people like the 141. An integral part of the process of running the whole task force, but not once was she involved in hands-on field work.

It's not that she's incompetent. No, not at all. Ghost would have his head bit off if he even remotely implied that because it simply isn't true. She got the top scores in almost every part of her training exercises, and yet she chose the intelligence part of the military to serve in. His wife was as competent as they got.

His wife.

"This is a covert operation, the fewer people the better." That's what he goes with. Not because his heart picks up at the thought of her being anywhere near what they deal with every day.

"I won't have the range I need to retrieve the data from their servers if I'm not close to them." She speaks up, and their eyes meet from across the room.

His determined, hers resolute.

Sometimes he really hated that she was so fucking stubborn. It had been the same stubbornness that cracked down the iron grip he'd had on the walls in his mind and around his heart, but if that stubbornness was what got her killed Simon would give up this joy in a heartbeat.

He'd do it for her if it meant she kept on living.

"This isn't up for discussion, Ghost." Price states, "She's part of this operation on my authority."

"Price-"

"End of discussion. You settle whatever you have going on outside this room." And fuck, he can't refute a direct order like that, can he?

Ghost sees her release a long exhale, and he knows he won't share such a relief until this damn operation was over and done with.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Her body is so limp it scares the ever-loving shit out of him.

Ghost grips her so tight it's as if he himself is the only thing tethering her soul to her body, boots thumping hard against the muddy ground as they retreat back to their extraction point, data successfully retrieved.

Successfully, not smoothly.

The plan was simple. They'd flank the building while she camped out near the edge of the woods, retrieving the intel they needed. A couple of fuckers slipped out of the building and went straight for her.

Ghost's stomach turns when he remembers how he found the scene. She wasn't answering through her comms, but he knew he wasn't able to leave his position until the building was secure.

Waiting felt like an eternity, he could feel Soap send troubled glances in his direction at the way Ghost was unusually silent and more brutal than.

When the building was finally secure, they'd gone to reunite with her position and found three men dead, bloody seeping into the ground in a crimson mess. The last one standing hovered over her unconscious form, over his wife with a knife raised ready to slit her thought.

The only thought Ghost had as he ripped the man away with his hands was that he was going to take the one good thing in his life away, and he would not let that happen. Not her. Not like this.

"Bleeding wound to the head, unconscious but still breathing!" Gaz called out while Ghost shoved the man's own knife into his throat. Tossing the gurgling body aside like a ragdoll, he's immediately by her side, assessing before carefully lifting her up in his arms.

It's the most emotion Ghost has ever expressed in front of the others, but he couldn't give a fuck about the looks or the questions right now. Her heartbeat against him settled him the slightest bit with the reassurance that she was alive.

Angry does not begin to describe what itches under Ghost's skin as they scramble into their exfil airship.

"Medic!" He barks the second they lift off. Setting her down, he brushes the bloody strands of her hair away from her face.

Despite the urge to stay by her side, the medic gingerly requests for him to take a step back so he could work. Ghost obliges but his eyes never leave her face.

He's painfully aware of his wedding ring pressing against his chest, strung onto a chain long enough to be tucked under his uniform. A matching one to her own.

Nobody speaks.

Perhaps they recognise the anger washing off of Ghost in waves, because if they'd just bloody listened to him, she wouldn't be laying there with a head wound.

The atmosphere is heavy and sombre. Even Soap keeps his mouth shut, too confused by the outward, uncharacteristic way Ghost was acting to make fun of it.

It's only when the medic announces she's stable that the suffocating knot in Ghost's chest loosens. There's audible relief from everyone in the place.

"Bloody hell." Price breathes, and something in Ghost snaps.

"I told you to dismiss her from the op." He says coldly, turning to the man.

"We got what we needed, son." He sighs, deep and tired, and part of Ghost understands that this was their life. But he's too worked up to care.

"At a fucking cost."

"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive, that's all that matters. Nothing permanent, yeah?" He glances at the medic, who confirms with a nod before slipping away.

"This is different." Ghost grits out.

"Why's that?"

"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the metallic walls. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.

How long had it taken for Ghost-...no, for Simon to let someone crack open his defences until he was coaxed out and allowed himself to love again? Four years they've been married, and four years he's kept it a secret.

It's not that he doesn't trust his team. He trusts them with his life, would lay his own down for Johnny, Gaz, and Price any day.

But this? This was bigger than him, she was the most precious thing that had ever happened to him, and the safest way to preserve that was the keep it on a need-to-know basis.

She'd agreed with him, of course. In that soft, patient way she always has with him. She'd seen the paranoia in him, recognised that he needed this one thing for himself, and she'd been more than happy to oblige.

What was outside validation about her relationship worth when she got to crawl into his arms at the end of the day? Be granted the pleasure that comes with being loved by someone as protective, intelligent, and sharp as Simon Riley? She adores all of him, even the jagged pieces that cut into her from time to time, because he's always there to take care of her afterwards.

"She's my wife." He repeats quieter, sitting back down. Exhaustion lines the slope of his shoulder's dark circles well present under his mask.

"You're married." Soap is the first to speak, incredulously. "You? Ghost? You're married?" His eyes flicker down to Ghost's left hand, and then to Gaz and Price who look equally as surprised. "I mean, congratulations?" He trails off, knowing it's not really the situation to celebrate.

"Thanks." A tired, small voice has everyone's attention back onto the figure on the bed. Ghost is on his feet in moments, by her bedside. "It'll be five years in...what, a month?" She cracks an eye open, giving Simon a tired, smile.

"Two months." He corrects with a mutter, and Johnny looks like he might just collapse. "Sitrep?"

"We're not on the field anymore." She groans, pushing herself to sit up. Ghost's hands fly to her immediately, helping her sit up. At his blank, insistent stare, she relents with a deep sigh. "My head's killing me but other than that just a few scrapes and bruises." Her hand travels down to grab his at her shoulder, squeezing briefly.

"I'm alright." Her voice turns into something soft and reassuring, and it's only then that a quiet, shuddering breath comes out of Simon's lungs. "I think I'll sit to working from the inside though." She jokes weakly. "Leave the dirtier work to you brutes."

It lightens the mood as intended, eliciting a snort from Gaz. "Yes, ma'am."

He'd make sure she got checked out properly when they landed, but for now he takes his place sitting beside her. The others fall into a hushed conversation after a while, but he makes no move to join them.

A warm hand intertwines with his, hidden beneath the bulk of their combined gear.

"I'm alright, Simon." She mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear.

Simon squeezes her hand in response. "Fucking hell, love." He breathes.

And it's enough to convey everything he's thinking. Humming, she tips her head against his shoulder and lets her eyes slip shut. The warmth of his body, even through the tang of copper is enough of a familiar comfort to drain the tension from her body.

She's fast asleep against his shoulder a minute later, and the devil himself couldn't make Simon move lest he wake her now.

He wasn't a publicly affectionate person by any means...but he trusted his team enough for this right now.

Letting his own head press against the metal wall behind them, his eyes shift to meet Price's. A softer, knowing look from the Captain is all he needs to hook his chin over her head and turn his attention outside the small window.

And if he counts her breathing while she sleeps for his own peace of mind? Well, that's no one's business but his.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(10/09/2023)

#ghost cod #cod mw ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #angst #x reader #x y/n #fluff #simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.

For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.

He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.

The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.

It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"

In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."

Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.

Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.

Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.

Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.

They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."

How can Eddie say no?

Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.

The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.

The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.

It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.

He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.

Eddie needs a break.

He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.

His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.

The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.

It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.

The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.

His eyes meet Steve's.

Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.

Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.

They're nothing to each other.

Never were.

By popular request: Part Two

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #oneshot #ficlet #angst #no happy ending #august #summer romance #heartbreak #mutual pining #based on a taylor swift song #i probably went overboard with the references to the lyrics #i'm not sorry #it's about the longing #august slipped away into a moment in time #whatever you do don't think about how the next time they see each other is Eddie pinning Steve to the wall in the boat house

[notjustjavierpena]

Doesn’t javier’s wife get tantrums when she is pregnant?

Unreasonable (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: She sure as fuck does. Javier is too in love with the idea of her carrying his child to get mad about it though.

Summary: First-time pregnancy and a husband who breathes a little too loudly is enough to make you rage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, pregnancy and all the following symptoms (e.g. puking), pregnancy rage, cravings, kisses, reader is hormonal and unreasonable

Word count: 1.5k

Unreasonable

“Could you breathe a little louder?” You ask from the bed. You throw your novel to the side, unable to concentrate, while sending daggers in your husband’s direction. 

You are sitting against the headboard of your bed with all the decoration pillows scattered across the sheets, unable to find one that seems to do the job of supporting your aching back during your first pregnancy. This second trimester is hell on Earth; morning sickness, sore breasts and back, hormones running amok in your system, and no way of getting comfortable. It doesn’t help that Javier seems physically unbothered, daring to move around with ease in your shared home while folding laundry. 

“Honey,” he says gently, turning towards you with a smile that you find provoking, “I’m not breathing differently than I usually do.”

You seethe from your position because you know he is right. The book you were reading amongst several candy wrappers lies face down next to you as if it’s hiding before Javier has figured that is what he should be doing too. You cross your arms over your chest but your boobs feel too big and sore for you to do it the way you normally would. Every instinct in your mind is telling you to attack because you have no way of seeming reasonable in this, “Do you have to squeeze a soccer ball out of your pussy in three months?”

Javier raises his eyebrows at your crude choice of words and your terrifying mental image, “No…”

“That’s right,” you huff and then suddenly you are off into a scolding interrogation that Javier can do nothing about but endure. Your stare can freeze the sun, “Let’s see. Do you have to pee all the time?”

“No…”

You go on, “Do you find yourself crying over commercials on the TV with no way of stopping it?”

“No.” 

“What about your pelvic floor?” You think smoke might be coming out of your ears, “Do you feel like it is going to rupture when you try to reach something you have dropped on the floor?”

“Honey…”

“Does your back hurt so much that you contemplate if it’s easier to just pee your pants instead of getting up?” You ask. Ironically, you have the biggest urge to get up and pace around the room like a caged animal.

“I could massage your back,” he suggests so sweetly but not even that can calm your rage. 

“Haven’t you done enough?” You growl, “This is your little fucking love-goblin growing inside of me and all you had to do was grunt like a caveman and roll over.”

Javier blinks, trying a feeble protest, “Baby… I don’t think tha—“

“Don’t you ‘Baby’ me!” You rage against him, heart beating rapidly in your chest, “I am here either suffering in bed or waddling around like a goddamn incubator! The least you can do is try to make me feel better!” 

“I just offered a massage that you declined so maybe you want some time for yourself instead?” He tries again.

“Time for myself? How on Earth am I supposed to spend time for myself when you are breathing so loudly that our neighbors can hear it?” You avoid his gaze. 

He opens his mouth to speak but you are not done.

“Not to mention the nausea that follows me everywhere I go. Quality time with good old nausea!” You throw your hands up in the air in exasperation, “If I had a dollar for every time I have puked up my guts since you put this baby in me, I could buy myself a private island and be rid of your wheezing airways!”

You inhale deeply and frantically as you run out of breath. It’s then you decide that you are done, scooting further down on the bed to lie down on your side with one of the pillows supporting your pregnant belly. 

You fume quietly. Javier stands immovable. 

Eventually, you pout too. Your husband moves to stand by your side but he doesn’t touch you, “How about we order some food? Do you want to order some food?”

“Actually, Javi, no, I don’t want to order some food,” you reply, still with an attitude. 

“Are you sure, baby?” He gently presses on. 

“Yes, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t say it.”

“I’m gonna order some food for myself then,” he lets you know, walking back to pick up the laundry basket. 

“Yes, fine, whatever,” you sigh loudly, “I don’t care.”

But you do care. As soon as the doorbell rings with Javier’s food delivery, you have thought about the million different things that he might have gotten for himself to eat and it has caused your stomach to rumble. You pout for real this time. 

Eventually, it becomes too much and you get onto your feet, tiptoeing down the stairs to satisfy your curiosity. You don’t need the food; you just want to see if your guesses about Javier’s dinner menu are correct.

You peek out from behind the door frame, staring into the kitchen where he is placing the delivery bag on the counter. The whole house smells like pizza and fried food, the scent having dragged you downstairs to gaze longingly as your husband is rummaging through the plastic bag to empty it of its contents. 

You spot the box of french fries next to a strawberry milkshake and frown, shifting slightly where you stand and trying not to feel emotional about your stomach growling for food. You lean your cheek against the doorframe and sigh loudly. 

“Hola, mi amor (hello, my love),” your husband suddenly says and even if you purposely made him aware of your presence in the room, you still feel on the spot when he notices you. 

“Hi,” you try to get a better glimpse of what he has ordered for himself, “What are you having?”

“I decided on that pizza place on the corner where you also get your haircut sometimes,” he says nonchalantly and you curse your emotions for getting the better of you earlier. You love that place. 

“Really?” You whimper. 

“Yeah,” he continues and stuffs a few fries into his mouth as he takes out a pizza box from the bag, “I really wanted one of their shakes. You know… the ones made from three scoops of ice cream? And then I thought I might as well get some fries because you taught me about dipping them into it, remember that?”

“Y-yeah,” you suddenly feel your bottom lip starting to tremble. The idea of not having a strawberry shake in your hand and their pepperoni pizza with a stuffed crust is close to torture, making you so unbelievably upset that you start to cry big and ugly tears. 

Javier tenses. He abandons the food on the counter the second he hears you, taking long steps to get to you quickly. He wipes his fingers in his shirt so he can brush tears away from your face, cooing softly as you wail, “Honey, shhh… There’s no need to cry.”

“I’m sorry, I was so mean,” you blubber to the point where you are heaving for breath, pregnant belly jumping as your whole body trembles, “I didn’t know that I wanted their milkshake and pizza so badly and now it feels like I am missing out. It’s really stupid but… The baby wants that strawberry milkshake, Javi.”

“I know,” he soothes and laughs softly as he brings you into his arms, giving you a hug whilst you continue your miserable crying, “That’s why I got you one.”

“What?” You sniffle, pulling back to look at him and showing off your red, puffy eyes. 

“I got you a shake,” he clarifies with a small smile, “And I ordered you a pepperoni pizza too.”

Relief washes over you and you cannot help letting out a little, shaky laugh amidst your tears, “You did?” 

Javier nods, eyes soft and smile warm, “Of course, I did. Te conozco (I know you).”

“With a stuffed crust?” You ask, suddenly shy and looking innocently through your lashes. You feel like you’re thirteen again, crushing on your husband all over. 

“Stuffed crust,” he confirms and the smile turns into a grin. He presses a kiss to your cheek and blows a raspberry until you giggle, “No need to cry. El bebé sabe que su mamá está triste (The baby knows their mom is sad)."

“Can’t have that,” you wrap both arms around him and repeatedly kiss his face; nose, cheeks, lips, chin. He closes his eyes, taking each with a sigh that’s nowhere near annoyed. You kiss his lips in the end, “Gracias, esposo (thank you, husband).”

“De nada, mi amor (you’re welcome, my love),” he lets go of you after one last kiss, walking to dig out one more strawberry milkshake from the plastic bag and then handing it to you. 

You take a long sip and do a happy dance without thinking. Meanwhile, Javier gets out your pizza too and suddenly all memory of why you were so angry earlier is gone.

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️h

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javi p #javi peña #javi pena #javier peña #javier pena fluff #javier pena one shot #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javi pena x you #javi pena x reader #javi p x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #siggy replies #siggy talks #narcos fanfiction #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #husband!javi

[sincerlycas]

What you heard.

inspired a bit by the song “what you heard” by sonder/brent faiyaz.

warning: spanking, rough sex, degrading, fluff, a bit toxic, eren yeager (yes this man is a warning), etc.

wrd count: 2k./ don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

part 2.

“y/n baby what is your issue?” eren currently had your arm in his clutch stopping you from walking away from him any further. the lines on his forehead, and frown on his face showed he was really not trying to deal with this at the moment. “what’s my issue? really? so you’re going to tell me you walk around them campus halls not knowing what people say about you- about me- actually about you and other people ?” the reason you were mad was due to the fact a little birdie came up to you saying a girl named historia was going around saying eren gave her some, and knowing eren’s past with her, of course you had your doubts but still had a sense of worry.

you being the classy (aka petty) girlfriend you were, went to look for this historia girl for answers to which she gave you a high pitched laugh voicing “oh! I forgot he was dating.. you, it sure didn’t seem like it the way he was fucking me last Saturday .” off the rip you wanted to slap that bitch, but you knew better to make a scene for something that quite possibly might be a lie. “you know historia it’s quite ironic you said that because if I remember clearly eren said and I quote ‘I would never go back to that roast beef pussy looking hoe’ but maybe I didn’t hear right”

you mimicked the high pitched laugh she did earlier right after saying that walking past her with a bumb to the shoulder and a mumble near her ear saying “sour pussy ass hoe”.

but if you already handle the issue why are you still mad? It’s because even though you didn’t want to believe her, the timing made sense. see, last Saturday you weren’t with eren. he said he had to run a errand for the whole day so you were just hanging with your besties. that would be enough time for eren to be with her. still you didn’t want to believe it. so the day after the confrontation you went to campus looking fine as usual with your grey shorts body suits with a boob cut and some cool grey and thick glasses.

till you were stopped multiple times that day from people asking ‘are you okay’ ‘did historia really fuck eren’ ‘you should holla at me since old boy ain’t doing his job’. this what caused your mood to be sour the whole day.

finishing all your classes getting ready to head home you’re met with a smiling, handsome, fine like wine ass man in your face. that man being your boyfriend eren, he has finally showed his face on earth after all these rumors. “hey sweet mama, I was wondering if you could come by my hou-“ cutting him off by walking straight pass him, Ignoring him as if he was a rando. “baby! where you goin’” he jogged up next to you grabbing your arm stopping you near a secluded area. “y/n baby what is your issue?” leading up to the current moment so forth.

“what are you talking about? y/n you’re really going to stress me the fuck out.” he said while letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes. pushing him on his chest making him let go of your arm and pushing you jet black lace off your shoulder. pointing your long acrylic nail at his face you said “bitch don’t play dumb, there’s no way in hell the whole campus knows but you don’t when you’re literally the main topic” your crossed your arms staring at him as if was delusional. “y/n l/n when I say I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about, I mean that now stop fucking around and tell me what you heard.”

rolling your eyes you finally answered what he has been desperately waiting to know “why tf people especially historia, are coming up to me saying you fucked her.” and to that he laughed, he laughed in your face! “you really believe that shit, baby you know good and that girl is crazy.” shaking your head and staring up at him you asked “then where were you on Saturday” “I told you, I went to run errands.” “what kind?” he stared at you as if he was thinking of an excuse.

“you know what, save it tell me when you done with all this bullshit and call me till then dont call my mf phone.” leaving at that and hopping into your Mercedes and reaching your apartment.

laying down on your bed in your baby pink shorts and white cropped tank top you decided you would find answers yourself. you scrolled through your contacts and called connie a mutual friend of yours and erens. “yooooooo” automatically answering the phone with his forehead all up on the screen. “boy backup I got a question.” “what do you neeedddd” dragging his words annoyingly and setting his phone up. “eren said he was with you on Saturday what did y’all do?” lying through your teeth just see if it’ll work. “Oh- uh yeah we were on the game all day.” he nervously smiled and rubbed his neck. staring at him with a mean mug.

“yeah you a damn lie I can fucking tell cuz your nose is red bitch learn how to stop that.” hanging up on him you decided to try again and called jean. “hey y/n what you need” answering after a while and nicely. “I was wondering what you and eren were doing on Saturday he said he was with you.” “ohhh yeah me and him were at the park all day placing basketball.” hanging up on him right after that and sitting up crossing your arms.

automatically you thought he probably did fuck her if not why would they both lie? your train of thought was interrupted with a knock to your door. getting up to go get it you’re brought with presence of eren letting himself into your apartment. “bro ion got time for you right now get out.” automatically dismissing him staying by the door.

“baby just listen, you gotta believe me when I say I didn’t fuck her she’s just lying.” of course you wanted to believe him, but at the same time why should you if he won’t tell you where he was that day. “then where were you on Saturday?” and yet again you are met with hesitation. “see what we’re not finna do is keeping back in forth with this shit, if you cheated just say that you bottom feeding ass nigga instead of making me look stupid in front of everyone”

slapping both your hands on his chest and pushing him away, to which he grabbed you with not much strength needed, and pinned you against the door instead. “y/n don’t fucking play with me, cuz now you got me pissed off. since really wanna know, on Saturday I was being the best boyfriend I am and was getting reservations and decorations and all shits like that ready for your birthday this week which was supposed to be a surprise.”

holding both your arms in his hands and keeping you from moving. and to prove his point even more he pulled out his phone showing him in a grocery store buying birthday decorations saying “my baby birthday in a couple days and you knowwww I have to treat her right and give her everything she deserves all that luxuries and shit, baby if you see this, happy early birthday and I love youu give daddy a kiss when you see this.” ending the video with a wink and putting his phone down.

“yeah you look stupid don’t you, not believing in your man but believing some dumb hoe I told you countless times about.” looking at anything but him trying not to tear up from the embarrassment you felt right now for being angry and lashing at him for no reason when you should have just trusted him.

“o-okay eren I get it I’m sorry, I should have trusted you” looking up at him teary eyed while biting your lip. letting go of your arms and rubbing away the fallen tears from under your eyes and kissing your nose. “it’s okay baby, but you know I’m not gone accept that sorry ass apology so go lay that ass on that bed for me” he stated and simply tapping your ass and looking down at you. shocked by what he said and looking up at him pleadingly to have mercy on you. “eren I said I was sorry just let it go this once.” you knew you were about to get punished the most pleasurable way possible but you were still sore from last time and fat ma needed a break! “y/n don’t make me say it twice.”

“OH.MY.G-G-GODDDD!!” screaming on top of your lungs with every word being punctuated by the harsh backshots eren was giving you. clawing at your sheets using it as a way to get away from those relentless thrusts. “nahhhh bring that pussy rightt back!” eren used his free hand to ball up your tank top in his hand pulling on it towards him to bring you right back onto that dick. “don’t run from it mama, what did you say I was? a bottom feeder?” right after asking that question a harsh slap came down to your ask making you let out another scream.

bringing your right hand behind you to claw and push at his abs. “d-daddy I’m sorryyy~ i promise I’ll never question you again- AH FUCKKK~!! baby pleaseee” begging him to give you a break and making promises he knew you wouldn’t keep, that was just how you were, a back talking ass woman who stood her ground but it always ended up with you here. bringing his hand down between your legs to furiously rub at you clit causing your legs to spasm and your hand to grip his wrist. “youre sorry? you really believed her- you better arch that shit right back up- you believed that bitch and doubted me?

crying hysterically and cumming for the third time, babbling ‘sorries’ and ‘daddy please’s’ to which he ignored. instead he lifted one leg on the bed slamming balls deep into you causing you to let out a silent scream and violently shaking your legs. “now tell me who this dick belong to mama.” flipping you onto your back to see your face while staying inside and keeping his leg up. “I-I-I-it’s m-mineee~” you shakingly breathing heavily trying to stop your cries. “then start fucking act like it’s yours and yours only.” slapping your clit repeatedly then raising his hand to leave another slap but is stopped by your hands covering it and shaking your head repeatedly no crying even louder. eren being the tease that he is starts shaking his head yes at you and forcefully moves your hand away. “don’t try cover and take away while I rightfully own.” “you see this pussy, that clit, this ass, everything on you is mine just as much as mine is yours, so next time you try that shit again you’re gonna get something coming for you.”

rubbing your clit as quick as he can and hitting your g-spot repeatedly you grabbed onto his back leaving down scratch marks every time he hit those bundle of nerves. not a moment later you felt like you needed to pee. “d-daddy stop- I’m gonna make messss~” and already understanding what you meant he started jackhammering into your cunt till he felt you spraying up on his abs, your stomach and legs, and some even reaching his lips to which he greedily licked away. slowing his thrusts down after cumming inside you soon after you and holding you tightly rubbing your legs to soothe you. “you okay mama? I’m sorry I did so much but I had to teach you a lesson” kissing your cheek lovingly and accidentally brushing past your clit with his pelvis causing to squirt yet again! “o-o-o-oh f-f-fuck dadddy it’s hurtssss, it won’t stoppp~” automatically going down eren went to lick up at your pussy catching every bit of your juice he can to relieve your pleasurable pain.

finishing up and running a bath and taking care of you, slipping on a oversized t-shirt on you (his shirt you stole) and a pink thong, slipping your thick black glasses back onto your eyes and laying you next to him kissing on your shoulders. “you feel better baby?” he asked while rubbing your thighs to which you nodded your headed and slept soundly.

eren took that time to grab his phone and post a video of you in your current attire with you legs still slightly shaking and a hand print on your ass captioning “fuck all them rumors I’m reserved for one person and one person only, she know that too.” along side the the song “what you heard- Sonder/Brent faiyaz”

#eren jeager x reader #eren x black reader smut #attack on titan #fanfic #smut #aot smut #eren yeager #eren jeager #black reader #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #aot au #black writers #black y/n #eren jeager x black reader #eren fanfiction #attack on titan au #black fiction #black fem reader #eren aot #aot headcanons #eren headcanons #eren x black y/n #mean eren #eren Yeager au

[astupidweeb69]

You know x-virus don’t get enough love…. Do you have any head cannons regular or nsfw (maybe both)??

I've been thinking about this guy a lot lately for some reason. Also I've never written for Cody before so hopefully this came out okay.

I was going to work on Toby's but.... I have more inspiration for Cody at the moment. He absolutely doesn't get enough love!

X-Virus Headcannons

SFW

Isn't related to Toby at all. In fact doesn't really look like him either. Sure, he's got the brown hair, but he looks waaay more dorky than Toby does. While Toby has kind of a boy-next-door-from-hell look to him, Cody is more slender and works out less. He looks like your typical STEM student (sickly complexion, poor nutrition, etc.). His whole schtick requires him to stay indoors most of the time, in a make-shift lab.

Has a refrigerated van, which he paid to be converted to safely transport whatever science experiments he's got going on in a temperature-controlled environment.

He tries to stay in one place. He's less of a drifter than most of the other creeps but sometimes... the things he does requires him to uproot his life and start over in another town. (No Cody you can't just infect your landlord with a mutated form of tuberculosis when they raise your rent! There will be consequences!)

Has kind of a nasally voice. I feel like he always has a bit of a cold too.

Ironically has a shitty immune system, and probably drinks those Airborne Immune Support drink mixes like it's his job. Also a germaphobe, wearing medical gloves all the time, and his hands are dry and cracked from overusing sanitizer.

LOVES Re-animator. He's rewatched that movie more times than he can count. But he has a love for science fiction movies in general, with horror elements to them. Like Alien.

Also loves zombie apocalypse movies, but that's an obvious one. Specifically 28 Days Later and World War Z.

Sometimes he's like... should I try to make a zombie virus? nah.... unless...?

I also think he was raised by a single father, who worked for a large pharmaceutical company.

Antisocial. I know Toby and him are compared a lot and people give them similar 'hyperactive' personalities, but I don't see that for Cody at all.

Cody's more focused, and is less inclined to interact with others. He doesn't really get lonely?

I'd say he'd get along okay with someone like EJ (both like science, ya know?).

Toby and him hang out a bit - they'll stay in and watch movies together. Or Cody will tag along with him to a bar and watch as Toby fails to pick up anybody. Cody wouldn't say it to his face, but it makes him feel better about his own social skills to see Toby strike out like that.

NSFW (Under the cut!)

I don't know how he'd find himself in this situation - but if he DID have a partner.... the sex would be kind of bland at first?

He doesn't know what he wants and frankly is too much of a germaphobe to get up close and personal with someone he doesn't know well.

You'd have to spend months getting to know him for him to feel comfortable to engage in anything sexual.

I think at the start of the relationship, he'd want to experiment with voyeurism.

He'd be across the room watching you touch yourself, giving you directions while he slowly strokes his cock, loving the feeling of ordering you around.

But as things escalate, of course, he'd give in to his urges. However, the voyeurism would become how he likes to foreplay.

Out of all the creeps (most of whom I view as being dominant) he's actually pretty tame.

He whimpers a lot, and it sounds almost pathetic when he moans. He's been holding out for so long for the right person, and when he finally gets to fuck he's absolutely drunk off of you.

That said, his sex drive is about average.

One of his roleplay fantasies is him being the experienced scientist, and you being his lovely little assistant.

Probably started after the first time you helped him in his lab.

He just kept thinking of you in a tiny little lab coat, bent over his desk - papers and test tubes falling to the ground while his hips piston into you.

#creepypasta #my writing #fanfiction #creepypasta headcanon #x-virus x reader #x-virus smut #x-virus headcannons #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta smut #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (4)

IV. It is you

MASTERLIST

Summary: Pressures makes wind, earthquakes, and marriages

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats,arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.8 k 

Notes: I don;t think this is going to be a love story, this is about politics, and a truly arranged marriage, their relationship will develop of course, but I just wanted to get that out there

“You have done a great job with her”, Cregan raised his eyes to encounter the mythical Jeyne Arryn, cousin to the late Queen Aemma, keeper of the East, Lady of the Eyrie, they both contemplated you as you sat the Iron Throne and gave audiences

“I have done nothing, it’s all her”, he said severely

“You are good with her, for her”, she said then, looking at him with her piercing blue eyes

“I know what you are implying…”

“She needs a husband”, she said

“You should stay here in court, as her hand when I leave”, he said almost at the same time

“You can’t leave her”

“I have to, I have a child…”

“She needs you, the realm needs you”

“The North needs me, she will be fine”

“You know that is not true, she is still too young to differ allies from foes”

“She will learn”

“At the cost of the realms”, Cregan Stark looked at her severely, but he had met her equal, this woman was not going to back down

“What about my son? What about my people? How is that going to work?”, he asked then

“You can come and go”

“A year at a time”

“Maybe”, she said. The small council had been relentless, just as Jeyne was being 

His name was in that alliance

He pledged to take you to wife, you, in name, regardless of who you had become… you were his betrothed. And it’s not like he gave his word lightly, only, like he said, he need a wife and a lady of Winterfell, he did not want to become the King consort of the Seven Kingdoms, he did not want to take care of you… forever…

But he had taken the capital for you

Yes he promised your mother…

But he had done it for you, an unknown princess, on his mind

He found himself looking straight at you

Like the first time he saw you, he thought, again, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Since he took the capital, color had returned to your face, you no longer had darkness under your eyes, your cheeks were fuller, you also filled your dresses more, meaning you were eating more, sleeping longer…

You were better

His eyes then trailed over all the faces of the Lords gathered there in the throne room, lickspittles, asskissers, many of them, without honor, just hunger for power and gold

Did he really care for what happens to the people of the other six Kingdoms? Were you really in danger? Kings had been surrounded by traitors all their lives and nothing major had happened…

Well… until Otto fucking Hightower

No, he couldn’t let that happen again

He thought he only wanted to bring justice to the traitors, but it wasn’t true, he cared about what happened

He cared about what happens to you…

The realization made him shift on his feet

He cared about you 

He did not want you to get married to someone who was going to please the small council and take your place eventually, who was going to manipulate you or worse

He didn’t want you married to someone who…

No… he just didn’t want you married to anyone else… that’s it

The bare thought made him shiver

You felt yourself being watched intensely, and found Cregan Stark’s eyes

You felt your cheeks heated, as you looked away like a little girl who had been caught doing something silly 

You were only a young woman, barely turned eight and ten name days

And Cregan was only a young man who had the power of the biggest country in the seven kingdoms and wanted to use it to avenge his Queen

He was himself impulsive, reckless even, maybe the rest saw him like the greatest choice, but he knew the truth

He wasn’t

What if he tipped you off a ledge? What if he sets you off resulting in the destruction of cities and the annihilation of thousands?

And yet…. He was the only one you trusted

Months on the road, maybe years away from you, years away from his home, his child… There must always be a Stark in Winterfell

But when he leaves you to be in Winterfell, he was going to wish he was in King’s Landing, and when he is here, he wishes he could be in Winterfell, he was already missing it, he wanted to see his son, his five year old son, he had left him in good hands, with his loving half sister, and trusted friends and servants… but still

He was so small, he had it when he was so young, the only thing he had left of his dear friend Arra

If he married you… if…

He was going to give you children, his child, second child, was going to sit the Iron Throne one day… and his oldest was going to be Lord of Winterfell

That was… enticing, to say the least

Too good to be true….

Having children with you, a thought that enticed and scared him in equal measure

A child of Ice and Fire, a child who was going to be a Northerner by blood and a dragon rider as well…

He shifted on his feet again

He wanted it

And he could pretend he had a choice all he wanted, but he didn’t… he had signed the pact… the woman… the Queen seated in the Iron Throne…

Was his betrothed

It didn’t have to be two months, a week long boat ride to White harbor and another week on the road and he could be home quickly…

It had to work

Did you want this?

He gave you the service of ending the courts early, and then you abandoned the throne room.

But before he could reach you, he was intercepted by Celtigar

“I need to talk to you”, he said, Cregan only nodded as they walked together to a hallway of the Keep which seemed to be empty

“What is it?” He asked, his patience long gone

“I can marry her”, he said quickly

Cregan stopped in his tracks, and frowned

“You trust me, don’t you?”, he asked when he saw his face

“yes, but…”

“I can get you out of the pact… if she is the one to accept”

He should be relieved, he should have said yes immediately, but the thought of you marrying someone else… he didn’t like it.

Not that he didn’t trust his friend, he did, he was the best choice according to him, the day before he had offered himself, the thing is… he had changed in the last 24 hours… 

He wanted it, you, the seat at your side, the children you were going to give him…

But he wouldn’t even accept it himself, this was deep inside of him, he wanted to protect you, none of those southerners had what it took, only him, he didn’t trust anyone else, not really 

Only him…

“My name is in those papers”, he growled

“But perhaps if I speak to her, began to court her…”

“I’ll talk to her”, he cut him 

“I really think I should be the one…”, with only one look Cregan makes his friend stop speaking. He had just realized what he truly wanted to do, and he did not need to be contradicted now. “You are marrying her, aren’t you?”, he said, a smile sneaking on his friend’s face

“I don’t know yet, I don’t want to pressure her”, Celtigar only hummed

“I want to marry her too”, he said then. Cregan looked at his friend and he understood him, he was challenging him…

“May the best man win her affections then”, Cregan said.

He was not going to lose

And as he walked away Celtigar only smiled, having pushed his friend in the right direction by only pretending to want your hand in marriage

Cregan had asked Lord Redwyne for help and together they had set you up with young ladies, that shared your age, your ladies in waiting as it were. But instead he found you alone in the Red Keep garden, walking and escorted by one of your white cloaks

“What happened with your ladies in waiting?”, he asked point blank as he approached you, the lack of property, referring to you not as “your grace”, and it made your guard almost wince  

“I send them on their way”, you said simply, leaning in to smell a beautiful flower, barely acknowledging him

“I don’t want you to be lonely”, he said gently, you raised your eyes to look at him 

“yes, I know but they are so… vain… “this lord looked at me”, or “have you seen the dress she was wearing…”, Cregan only smiled condescendingly at you, “and I…”

“You are thinking about the wellness of millions”, he said, “concerned about the future of the entire realm, I understand”

“I understand the need to be distracted for a while, but…”, he only nodded

“I understand”, he said shortly

“Why are you here?”, you asked, nervous, he didn’t understand the change in your dynamic, you had felt confident and calm enough to cry in front of him, but now you were evading his gaze, and shifting in your feet in nerves

In your mind was a bit more clearer

You realized you liked him, you found yourself feeling butterflies in your belly when you saw his handsome face, and you wanted to punch yourself, for being so childish, you were not a young girl in front of her knight in shining armor, you were a Queen now, he was your hand, your advisor, and the head of one of the most important houses on the entire realm.

But you felt your legs shake, and your breath caught in your throat every time you saw him approach you

And every time he was near, you wanted him to stay near you, you felt your chest strangle your heart each time he walked away from you.

Gods this was strange even for you

“I want to ask you something”, he said slowly, you looked at him then, concerned 

“You are leaving”, you said.

You were not an idiot, you knew he had a son, he was the Lord of Winterfell, he needed to rule his home. You couldn’t expect of him to stay here forever 

That took him by surprise

“No”, he said softly

“But you have to go one day, don’t you?”

“That is what I wanted to talk about”, he said softly, your attention was on him then, you tried to pull on those dark feelings that would make you mad at him when he did decided to leave, he could not see that wide-eyed little girl who had a crush on him, not now, and you will not beg when he tells you it was going to be time for him to return home…

“... the marriage offers”, you were lost for a second but that certainly brought you back to attention

“Uh?”, you asked

“You had been offered several hands of many lords over these past few days”

“Did the small council put you up to this?”, you asked, bored

“You need to get married”, he said severely, “we need to make your family strong again, you need to settle your line…”

“I understand”, you said, looking down. You knew he had signed a pact to marry you, but you also did not want to hold him to it, there were different times, it was naive for you to think he was going to hold up his part, he had done enough already 

“A marriage is also an alliance”, he continued, “you need someone who will help you and guide you, but not manipulate you…”

You only nodded

“A strong person, with a powerful family name…”

“If you say Tyland Lannister I swear…”, he chuckled, and shook his head

“No…”, he said. He then stopped all his movements, you felt his gaze on you, so you stopped as well and raised your head and eyes to look at him, “who do you want?”, he asked then

“I’m not sure”, you said, but you did… you wanted him

For the doubt in your mind made him question his own decision. He thought you were going to name him, but you were truly doubtful

You didn’t think he was an option

“I don’t know any of those men”, you said then in a whisper 

“You know some…”, he tried, you looked at him

He felt even guilty for wanting it

He gave in to his deepest desire, of power and lust.

“Yes you are right”, you whispered, looking away from him again, “I just…. need to think this through”, you said with a low voice, you wanted to end this chat

But he didn’t, he needed you to say it

He had heard the small council ask him to, he had heard Lady Jayne Arryn… but he needed to hear it from you.

“There must be someone in your mind”, he said softly, with a gentle, soothing voice

“There was”, you admitted

“Talk to me, I’m your hand”, he continued, “I am here to advice you”

“Until you leave me”, you say then, without thinking, it was barely a whisper

So that’s it, he thought, you resented him for even the mere thought of him abandoning you

“I can come back”, he said then, with a hint of amusement on his voice 

You only hummed, you didn’t believe him, and you were going to feel terribly lost without him, again, alone, like you had been before he saved you…. before he took the city in your name and put you on the throne

He did all of that

There was nobody else you wanted by your side but him

You shared a longing look, a long gaze

What did he want? you asked yourself. He looked like he wanted to listen to you but also to speak, at the same time. You didn’t know what else to say

“What does that mean?”, you asked then. He sighed, loudly

“I signed a pact…”, he said

“Yes, my brother offered my hand in marriage in exchange for your allegiance and your swords”, you said lowly

“No”, he answered back, you looked at him intently, “he asked for my loyalty, he had it already, but he negotiated our union for the simple fact he was scared of something befalling you, he wanted to send you North under my protection to keep you safe from harm, from the war, and from the Greens”

Ah yes, safe from Aemond and Aegon

“That sounds like my brother”, you said, melancholy tainting your voice 

“He wanted to keep you safe”

“In more than one way you had kept your promise”, you assured him, “you took the city, took control…”

“I did”, he said softly, “for you”

“You are going to put a crown in my head”, you said

“In three days”, he said then, “and then you should announced your betrothal”

“I don’t have one”

“You do”, he said finally, his eyes, piercing eyes bore into yours, he dwarfed you in size, and even though he had left his fur cloak behind… he still look big and imposing

“Cregan…”, you called

“Say it”, he encouraged 

“You signed the pact…”, you said.

As you looked at him, you grew angry

What did he want from you? to beg? you didn’t even know. He had signed that past, to marry you one day, and yet, he dodged that part at every turn, he needed to return home, you understood that he had a son, a little boy who needed his father, so why was he here? talking to you in this way? 

“You promised to marry me”, you said softly, he barely nodded, his eyes looking intently at you, “but I understand…”, he frowned then, and you started walking away from him. Letting him standing in the garden

You called in a small council meeting, on your own accord

They were right, you needed to make your family bigger and stronger…

“I called in this meeting because I have to make a demand”, you said firmly, your small council looking amongst each other, Cregan was silent, playing with the dragon eye in front of him

“Tomorrow the Barahteon will present themselves to me, and I want to tell you my intentions so you’ll be prepared”, you said firmly, “It is to my understanding that princess Jahaera, daughter of Aegon the Usurper, is still in Storm’s End…”

“As a guest”, said lord Lannister

“As a hostage”, you said then, “It is to my understanding that she was on her way here, when Aegon was poisoned”, you said softly, “I know because it was discussed at the dinner table in front of me, yet, she is not here, I understand they are trying to keep her safe as some sort of leverage, but…”, you continued, and then you soften your gaze, “I want her here, she is a little girl, a Targaryen, daughter to my lovely aunt Helaena, and she should be with me and Aegon, with family”, you said softly

“Your grace is most graceful”, muttered the Maester, the others murmured their affirmations

“Tomorrow I will demand of the Baratheons to bring little Jahaera back to me, when she is here, we will betrothed her to Aegon, to finally solidify the family and end this madness”, yous aid with a soft smile

Aemond, Aegon, Alicent and Otto are and will burn in hell

But not Helaena and her children

She was an angel, so were the little boys that lost her lives

Jahaera was the only one left, you owe it to Helaena to keep her safe

After the affirmation and support of your small council, you walked towards your little brother’s chambers

He had become so quiet and sad, which was expected, but still, you tried to keep his mind busy, you would put Septas and maesters to teach him and accompany him, at all ours, soon, one of your King’s guards will teach him the art of the sword.

Now you make sure to sit and dine with him

Even though he barely spoke

“Jahaera will come to court soon”, you whispered to him as you served yourself a cup of wine

“Who was Jahaera?”, he asked innocently, of course he didn’t remember 

“Helaena’s child”, you said, “she is your age, you can have fun together”

“Oh”, it's the only thing he said, while continue to have little pieces of bread and meat 

“Maybe one day you can get married”, you said lightly

“When are you getting married?”, he asked then and made you laugh

“Soon, but I don’t know with whom!”, you said as it was a joke, it was sad that it was true

“Marry Cregan”, he said simply

“WHy?”, you asked him, amazed

“I see the way he looks at you”, he said simply

“How does he look at me?”, you asked him

“As papa looked at mama”, he said, and you got quiet

“He has to go back North”, yous aid lightly

“You can command him to stay, you are the Queen”, he said, still not looking at you

“If I only command without listening to reason I’m a Tyrant”, you said softly, “not a queen”

“He wants to stay”, he said

“I don’t know if he does, you know Northerners don’t fare well here in the south”, you joked 

“Command him”, he insisted

“Aren’t you a little tyrant?”, you teased, reaching over the table and tickling his side until he squealed in a laugh

But gods if that made you think…

“He looks at you they way papa looked at mama”

Daemon Targaryen wasn’t much of a communicative man, he didn’t need to speak, it was all in his eyes…

He could make men tremble with just his gaze, he could make his children giggle with a wink, and he could make your mother swoon with that sparkle in his eyes.

Even little Aegon could tell 

Even if the nannies took control over your little brother, you were by his side until he fell asleep, and then you went to your own room

You served yourself a cup of wine, another cup of wine.

“Call in Lord Stark please”, you asked Eryk, and he nodded and went to fulfill your requirement 

It was inappropriate, to say the least, to summon a man to your chambers at this late… but you needn't to worry about such matters… Or you did

Your brother was right, you were a Queen, you had to begin to act like one 

Cregan foud you seated by the fire, in a relaxed stance, with a goblet of wine in your hand

“Your grace”, he greeted, he seemed serious, but you believed you found a glint in his eye… you were started to get to know him and his facial expressions, as cold as they may seem

“My Lord Hand”

“You will summon me and believe me, I will attend to your calling, but I must say, if someone sees me coming into your chambers at the hour of the owl, where we are going to be alone…”

“I’m aware”, you said, smiling at him

“What do you need?”, he asked gently, with a smirk on his lips

“Today in the garden…”, you started, “you mentioned the pact you sign”

“Yes I did”, he said

“Why?”, you asked him

“Why?”, he asked back

“Why would you bring it up?”, you asked again, “it seems that you do not intent to honor it”, he got quiet then, analyzing you

“I meant…”

“There is no one else…”, you said, “it is you”, you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling. He softened his gaze

“Is that a command?”, he asked, amusement in his voice, it was like he was playing a game.

“Marry me”, you said, “honor the pact of Ice and Fire… you can come back home, on the condition of course that you come back…”

“To you”, he said

“To me”, you agreed. “Everyone will be at ease, well, except for the Hightowers, when you sit at my side in the throne…”, you said, he barely nodded, still smiling 

“I don’t think so…”, he said finally, you stopped all your movements, was he rejecting you? he was not going to marry you? you had to command him, if he refused, you could fall through, you couldn’t make a man marry you… you started feeling ashamed of even summoning him here… you were starting to feel like an idiot

He turned his back to you and went to the small table in the corner and served himself a goblet of wine.

“I think they will feel threatened..”, he continued, you smiled then, taking a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “you and me together…”, he continued, taking a sip, “soon they’ll realize… the dragon and the wolf sat together… and they are all sheep”

You both smiled widely at each other 

this is the vibe I was going for jajaja

Cregan is... complex... everyone wanted a tougher Cregan, i'm giving a gray one. He has ambitions, and wants power, and he is not indiferent to us, the beautiful young Queen... of what I read about Cregan, it is what I perceive... anyways... hope you like... maybe I moved it a bit too quickly but I want to get to the good part

taglist! ❤️

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd

@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos 

#IV.misguidedhour #cregan stark #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan fanfiction #house stark #house targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #hbo house of the dragon

[kurvinitty]

wriothesley 👁️ 👁️ as your soulmate

( * ₊ 🦋◞ ˚ ) ⠀ ⪼ ⠀soulmate au drabbles. ( open )

tags. ⠀ ⪼ ⠀ 1.5k wc, reader works as an engineer, swearing lol, not proofread bc i'm eepy and going to bed now

notes. ⠀ ⪼ ⠀ listen to colors by halsey while reading this bc i think it fits rlly well !! anyway this may be ooc but do i care? no. i only care about he.

You can only see colour when your soulmate is with you and you’re touching. This gives a whole new meaning to them bringing colour to your world.

Who knew that out of all places, a prison would be where your world of grey would suddenly burst into bouts of colour?

As an engineer, you were stuck fixing & maintaining things more often than actually creating them. Your colleagues sometimes pitied you, as your already monotonous world made your job even harder. Those lucky enough to have found their soulmate are not only favoured by cupid’s bow, but also by whoever delegated your working tasks.

You wouldn’t lie — it pissed you off. Yet at the same time, you were aware that it was much safer dispatching someone who could identify a cable’s colour before installing them. However, that still did little to soothe your frustrations.

It’s also what had lead to you being stuck with more tedious tasks — maintenance and routine inspections. Despite all this, you still loved your job — and you’d be damned if your peers’ mocking pity would bring you down.

Ironically, it was due to them that you’d get what you were looking for all this time.

To beckon the call of help from the Fortress of Meropide was definitely not your field of expertise, yet you were still the one who answered. Due to the aforementioned reasons, it was also your first time setting foot on the premise. The prison’s damp walls added a chill to the already eerie atmosphere, and you now regret not taking your coat with you. The gardes were kind enough to escort you to the administrator’s office, saving you the pain of navigating this labyrinth on your own.

You flinch at the sound as the garde opens the door, holding it open for you to enter. Only now do you realise how tense you’ve been so far — the temperature undoubtedly having played its hand in it. Archons, you couldn’t wait to get out of this place.

With a thankful nod towards your escort, you step inside the room, Wriothesley already expecting you. Before you could fully enter, the man was already on his feet to receive you. Well prepared — as expected of him.

You have heard many things about the Duke, rumours both good & bad — but you’ve never had the chance to confirm them yourself. But now that you stand before him, you think you understand why everyone respected him greatly — no matter their personal opinion of him. At a glance, you could tell that an air of authority accompanied his every step, and you feel yourself subconsciously shrinking before the man.

Should he notice, he doesn’t say a word though. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he seems quite relieved when you finally arrive.

“You’re the engineer we requested, I assume?”

He speaks matter-of-factly, yet he also sounds… quite friendly? You didn’t know what to expect of the man, but you were sure it was closer to ice cold apathy, rather than the soft-spoken silk you experience now.

The first words this man had ever spoken to you, and you were already at a loss for words. Both because you didn’t know how to explain the situation, and also due to Wriothesley himself. While the first impression he made was better than expected, you were sure you’d somehow manage to piss him off in the next second. But then again, was it really your fault?

You clear your throat, fumbling over the words, before you settle on something to say. “Well, uh- yes I am.”

It’s evident how the Duke senses your hesitation and raises and eyebrow in question. Where he once looked at you in relief, his expression now falters and his eyes scrutinize you with suspicion.

Oh, you’re fucked.

Heat floods your body in embarrassment, your mind now drawing an even bigger blank as you desperately try to backtrack. “With that I mean— I am an engineer, but I doubt the work here will be within my expertise,” you sheepishly explain as the words escape your mouth in a single breath. What an absolute wonderful way to start off this interaction. “I am terribly sorry.”

You have half the mind to bow in apology, for an inconvenience that wasn’t even your fault. Doing your colleague’s dirty work was one thing, but your company being under staffed was a whole other issue.

But Wriothesley only shakes his head. Though you could swear you saw his face drop in annoyance for a split second, you felt like there was no need to worry when he next spoke. “It’s alright. I’m just glad there’ll be someone to look at it. This stuff has been giving me trouble all week already.” his hand moves up as he sweeps it over his forehead in exasperation, fingers combing through his thick dark hair. And for the Archon’s sake, you wanted to do nothing more to curse out loud when he did that. Even more so when you catch yourself examining his features more closely now, with your eyes lingering on his for a moment longer than they should. You wonder what colour his hair may be — dark, for sure — but there was only so much you could determine with a world full of grey.

You’re here to work, not to admire pretty men.

Pretty.

It took you more self-restraint than you’d like to admit to not slap yourself.

“Anyway, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet,” the man continues, thus effectively pulling you out of your self-loathing session. His hand reaches out toward you, an invitation for you to reciprocate in kind. “Wriothesley.”

Surely, you wouldn’t be able to mess up a simple handshake, right?

You waste no time to clasp your hand in his & tell him your name, your dainty digits being engulfed by the rough and calloused skin of his own. And in that moment, you felt as if time had completely stopped.

It wasn’t due to the feeling of his skin coming in contact with yours. As much as one could sing songs about how the touch of your soulmate could invigorate & keep you warm for a thousand winters to come — it wasn’t the case for you. The catalyst for sure, but the event that followed was worth your song.

The moment your hand touched Wriothesley’s, you didn’t even feel it. The only thing you felt was the feeling when your world suddenly filled with colour. All it took was the blink of an eye, and you were in a whole different world. You stare at the man before you, your mouth hanging wide open while you were freeze in shock. There was so much new information to process, but your eyes & mind could only focus on him. You can’t exactly pinpoint all the new colours you see, but the first thing you notice is his eyes.

You weren’t the only one at a loss for words, and even if you tried — you could not pry your gaze away from holding his. His eyes don’t look much different than they did before, actually. They’re naturally blessed with a light colour, but now you notice all the different shades and hues within them. Does he know what colour his own eyes are? Do you know yours? For all you know, anyone you asked could have been lying to you so far.

You also notice how his pale face now gains the slightest bit of colour, and you wonder if he sees the same with you.

Honestly? If time would allow it, you’d stay like this forever. But of course, it’s the man you’re supposed to spend eternity with that would deny your wish.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

And he acts as if nothing happened.

You, on the other hand, are still in the process of digesting this experience. Before you knew it, his grip on your hand loosened, until it completely fades away and your vision is plunged back into an array of black & white.

“Wait, I—” The words slip out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, your body almost acting on it’s own accord to wrap your hand around his wrist again. Now that you’ve gotten a taste of this — of him — you desperately want your world to burn up once again, like a new hunger that begs to be satiated. Did he not feel the same? Did you just imagine it?

It seems like Wriothesley took notice of your crestfallen expression. He doesn’t back away, yet he doesn’t come closer either. Instead, he speaks — in a tone so beautiful & soft, you can scarcely believe it’s real.

“I think we’ve got more than enough time to talk later.”

© KURVINITTY '23 — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. || DO NOT plagiarize my work or steal any graphics, as they are either purchased, commissioned or edited by me unless specified. | support divider

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley drabbles #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact drabble #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #( * ₊ 🦋◞ ˚ ) ⠀ ⪼ ⠀ esther's works.

[finalfrontierpublishing]

So it's been a while since i posted any books - mostly because i've been hiding my progress like a little sneak.

I just finished this bind last night of The Desert Storm by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, or really it's volume 1 out of like ??? 15, maybe. Please take whatever i say with a pinch of salt (I have had 0 sleep for more than 24 hours, and that tends to make me a little very sleep-deprivation drunk a.k.a. unhinged). Okay, on to thoughts! The Desert Storm was foisted onto me by @celestial-sphere-press who told me under no uncertain terms that I WOULD FUCKING LOVE THIS SHIT. Well, I did. This more than 1 million word epic about Ben Fuckin' Kenobi is pretty much god-tier fanfiction. It reads like a goddamn novel. I can never think of canon again without thinking that this good shit should be canon. I read it and then consumed half of it within a week, and I have zero regrets. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, i absolutely love you and love your writing. It is the best thing since sliced bread. It is better than sliced bread.

I also had the benefit of @celestial-sphere-press saying, hey would you want to use the typeset? MY GOD, i am grateful. I love this fic, i would have typeset it if it hadn't been typeset but Des did such a beautiful job that i am absolutely in awe and thankful that she and the author allowed others to use it. Look at it - it's so beautiful. I only had to think hey, i just gotta design the cover and et cetera and so the book happened.

Please also check out @celestial-sphere-press 's amazing post here and here, who is the only person i know who's started and is almost complete in fanbinding this epic, and is also making an author a copy of the entire series.

Some stats, if you will.

96215 words || 380 pages

Title font: Ghaomiec

I took some inspiration from starblight bindery's lovely desert scape as well as this amazing cover of Dune which i own. I love that the landscape emanates Dune vibes while being oh so Tattooine - just sand and heat, relentless loneliness and melancholy. This fic centres around Obi-Wan Infinite Sadness Kenobi so it needed SAD VIBES TM, which i tried to deliver in desolate landscape form.

Also thank the heavens for Renegade members, who in a masterful stroke of Group Buy Saves Money, managed to source extra-out-of-production colours of Colibri and help a fair number of us get really cool limited edition versions of bookcloth. I am now a proud owner of a lorge stash of Duo and Colibri of which i am now sitting on like a shifty dragon with a hoarding problem. Good luck getting your bookcloth now, Folio Society, ha ha (gloating)! This particular bookcloth is Colibri Copper which has been wholly stashed for The Desert Storm series. I am leaning on transitioning to Malachite for Rise and Fall when I get to it.

The front cover design was done with a stock image and converted to a PNG, which i then fiddled with and did some HTV magic with. It was remarkably easier to weed than expected. I tried something new and ironed the design on the naked bookcloth first before gluing it to the boards, which was a new challenge in making sure everything was aligned.

Endpapers are marbled endpapers (Renato Crepaldi) which I got from Hollanders, which perfectly fit the colour scheme of the bind. The only hiccup was as I was cutting, I realized the sheet was running in the opposite direction of his usual papers and half the size, and only yielded 3 A5 size endpapers and so my heart went noooooooooo. oh well. i guess i will use it for quartos.

Endbands are my favourite - silk in 3 colours in the french doublecore style (as i was binding this i did not have the mental capacity to handle the difficulty of 4 strands). the truth is i usually only can do 4 when I have higher brain function and am willing to spend 80% of my time unraveling it from getting tangled.

I also forgot to mention I had mild fuck-ups, I got glue on the front endpaper which I had to hastily remove with wet cloth, and the back square is preposterously bad but I'm ignoring it for now.

Anyway, i've actually managed to complete a few other binds which have not been mentioned here as they've all been gifts/ surprises or event books in some form. I am SO EXCITED, also because I am travelling in the latter half of July to San Diego and L.A. and I get to meet some bookbinding friends in the flesh. Renegade is fucking amazing y'all. I am ready to embrace these crazy lads who have enabled me for the last 1 year, even when i'm the solitary (1) weirdo from my country of origin in the server. Also... potentially bookbinding trip early next year??? I am enthused.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #renegade bindery #my books #star wars #clone wars #obi-wan kenobi #ben kenobi #ben naasade #infinite sadness #the desert storm #the ben naasade epic

[chrollohearttags]

do you better, make it worse • j. kirschtein

watching his best friend mistreat you never sat right with Jean but luckily, he had plans to get your mind off of him once and for all.

content warning and themes: hospital AU, mentions of infidelity, EMT Jean, patient liaison reader, car sex, panty stuffing, hair pulling, choking, fingering, reverse cowgirl, daddy’s used a few times, calls reader slut (not in a derogatory way), squirting, full nelson, creampie

📝: in lieu of me bringing back one of my favorite stories, I’ve decided to once again put the cart before the horse (don’t say it) and revisit one of the dynamics in it. Besides, I’m on a heavy Jean kick lately so here we are.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

he couldn’t stand it….

honestly, he hated it. Hated the way you were treated, hated that you were being misled and hated that someone he called, not only his friend but thought of as a brother, was so casual and callus in hurting such a beautiful woman. Someone who made it her life’s mission to care and look out for others..advocate on their behalf and ensure that they were being cared for. Which was ironic at its finest degree, considering that for the three years (y/n) (l/n) dated Connie Springer; former high school basketball star turned paramedic, no one bothered to clue you in on the fact that he was being unfaithful. He was your very first love and granted, when you two graduated, the relationship seemed to grow. But as was his outside roster as well. While you were holding him down, helping him study and keeping him straight..all while doing your own thing, he was out doing you wrong. Laying up with this girl, texting that girl and having the nerve to come back to you as if everything were just fine. And being completely oblivious to his antics, you would’ve gone on with your business and not thought a thing of it..that all but changed when his best friend Jean came to you one day with a shocking confession and told you that your beloved boyfriend had been sleeping with other women. “This isn’t gonna be easy, (y/n). I’m sorry I kept this from you but I thought you should know.” Not only that, he had solid proof. Pictures, texts and everything…it was a devastating blow and you were riddled with all types of emotions. Anger, sadness, denial..this man had hurt you beyond comprehension and once you found out and confronted him, you let Connie know exactly how you felt. Then, you ended things. As hard as it was, you felt relief in knowing that you were no longer being made a fucking fool of. He was free to do as he pleased..it was no longer your problem.

even so, you were faced with another issue: loneliness. You stood firm in your boundaries and didn’t let Connie back in. Regardless of the fact that you two were now working for the same hospital and you’d see him often while walking the halls of the emergency room. Tending to patient’s non medical needs and getting feedback. In the time since you two split, you had grown prettier by the day; that beautiful dark skin glowing, curly hair getting thicker and so was that gorgeous body. Hitting the gym and gaining happy weight. Still, despite that. You longed for companionship. You wanted your person again and to be loved unconditionally. You wanted someone to take care of you…emotionally, spiritually and especially..physically. As terrible as it sounded, you needed someone to satisfy those carnal desires as well. Someone who would take that stress of a long day away and clear your head.

luckily, you had just the man for the job and in the form of a very familiar face. Someone who had all but saved you from further heartbreak and embarrassment. And now, he was going to help you once more…

“Did you miss me, baby? I missed you..”

“Yes..been thinking about you all day..”

while your ex pleaded and groveled for a second chance, you were sitting pretty in the backseat and lap of his best friend’s car..getting that wet little pussy stuffed full of his fingers! Those thick digits planted inside of your warmth as his tongue swirled the inside of your mouth..the two of you exchanging sloppy tongue kisses and saliva along the way. Another hand..one riddled with tattoos up to the forearm gently clutched your throat as to keep your eyes on him. Of course, you wouldn’t dare look elsewhere. Not when this fine ass man was treating you so well. Some would say that what you guys were doing was wrong or that he broke code between boys but he should’ve considered that while he was out with other women. Now, Jean was filling that void in more ways than one. For the past couple months, the two of you had been hooking up just like this and needless to say, once you got a taste of him, Connie was all but a mere afterthought..

instead, you couldn’t wait to get your fix of the man making out with you. Slowly, he’d work those fingers in and out of that tight little cunt..placing a trail of kisses along your earlobe and jawline, all while filling your head with sweet words. Telling you how pretty you looked and that you were gonna feel so good. That deep voice drops to a low whisper; causing you to clench around his knuckles. Hearing those sweet affirmations from a man who meant it was driving you crazy. “J-jean…baby. I—“ “it’s okay..I got you. Just keep riding those fingers, my love. Keep going, just like that.” All the while, he had snatched your top down to reveal those perky breasts of yours. Always sitting so pretty underneath your work uniform. It was many times when he thought about what you’d look like underneath and now, he was getting the chance. Even at his buddy’s expense!

“So fucking sexy…swear I couldn’t get you off of my mind. Thinking about holding you…kissing on this neck.” Just then, he’d tighten his grip on your throat and grunt in your ear; grinding that covered erect against your ass. “Filling you up. I just wanna make you feel good, baby. Hell of a lot better than he can...” Doting on you as he curled and pumped those digits around inside of you. He was like a feign, an addict for your love and sex. Jean would do whatever it took to ensure that you got off. Just by your moans alone, he knew you were close. He could sense it..that’s what it meant to awareness of your partner’s body. Something that Connie failed to grasp even after all that time of being together. He had done in three months what he couldn’t in three years. It was insane. However, as much as he desired to get you off, he had to get some action of his own! You could feel him growing larger by the second..practically swelling to be let out. Alas, he knew how much more well endowed he was in comparison to others you’d been with so he had to be gentle. Handle you with care as to not hurt you…but give you the pleasure you deserve. So with a swift motion, he’d unbuckle those black uniform cargos and shuffle them down his hips so that he had enough room to maneuver. Unsheathing that thick cock, he’d slap it against your half clothed, plump pussy lips; drumming up smacking noises as he had a finger hooked around your thong to keep them to the side. Your tits were exposed as well..the top part of your dress tugged down and bundled up around your tummy. He couldn’t wait to get a taste.

“Go ahead, pretty girl. Put it in for me..” instructing as he grasped your waist and allowed you to raise yourself up. Those heels that he loved so much digging gently into his seat and aiding you in eventually riding him. As (y/n) lowered yourself back down, both of you released loud, breathy moans. The sensation of your juicy warmth and the fullness provided by his thick girth..stretching you out only seconds in. “Fuck..so fucking good..” clutching the side of the door and the driver headrest to balance yourself as you bounced up and down. Jean knew you were more than capable of handling it so he’d toss his head back and encourage you with all of those filthy words you loved. “There you go. Up and down, just like that. You’re opening up for me so nice..that dick feel good, babygirl?” Questioning in a sweet cooing tone, which had you melting within seconds. The way this man so lovingly cared for your body, you couldn’t help but to submit.

“It’s so good, daddy…never had dick like this. Oh my fucking—ahh!”

drawing out in whiny huffs and soft whimpers along with wetness, that was dripping all down his shaft. Eventually, the vehicle would begin to gently sway in that parking garage from the force of your moving bodies. Clawing into that leather upholstery, (y/n) continued to bog yourself down, taking those deep thrusts to the brunt. “I know..I know it’s a lot, baby. But you’re taking that shit so good..got you creaming. This is my pussy now. Isn’t that right? All mine?” Earning him a very swift ‘yes’ as you trembled and took him to the hilt. Only after he grasped your throat because you were too stuck to even form words. His fingertips tracing soft circles around your clit and those balls slapping against your opening. “That’s what I love to hear, pretty girl. Just keep fucking me…keep—shit!” Drumming out more of those breathy cries from your new boyfriend and deeper thrusts as he began fucking up into you. All but taking the reins and control as the feeling intensified. Eventually, he couldn’t hold still and although he thought that you were doing an amazing job, he needed to really get in it. Clutching the backs of your thick thighs, Jean would proceed to fold your legs up and bring your knees nearly up to his shoulder blades. It was such an insane position but one that felt nearly euphoric. Whilst he made certain each stroke made home inside of your sensitive core, you’d take the thin strings of those panties between your teeth and bite down. Sort of a makeshift gag for your loud cries as he began to pound upward into you. He was coming unglued, like a man unhinged and on a mission. He wanted you to feel every last inch of him. How much he craved you..how much he loved you and this beautiful body. He’d never be so foolish as to squander such a precious thing. Even if he was beating your pussy sore like you were a mere object. “..my little slut..letting me fuck you like this. I’m so thankful, baby. You're gonna come f’r me, right? Come all over this dick? Right here in this fucking car? You couldn’t even wait until I got you to my place. That’s how addicted I got you..” and there was no denying it! When you slung pipe like him, you had every right to brag on it. Regardless, he himself was desperate to release so he’d do whatever it took to coax you to your orgasm so he could reach his. He never allowed himself to come first because he wanted you to get off. Bringing a hand back to that swollen bud, Jean massaged it until you emitted muffled, distorted cries with that cloth tucked between your teeth. Your eyes flush and drip with slight tears from how full he had stuffed you. In a matter of minutes, porcelain colored cream had covered the entirety of his shaft and base, signaling that you were on the brink of reaching your peak. Calling out to him, Jean was quick to turn your head and quell those whispers with gentle kisses and soft caressing to the cheek. “It’s okay..hey, breathe with me, baby. Remember what I told you..” by now, he had hooked your legs into one arm and continued bucking his hips upward. You were both beginning to tap out..reach that final stride and it was only seconds after he patted your slit with gentle slaps did you begin to throb and he knew he couldn’t get another one in before you all but pushed him out so reluctantly, Jean would halt his movements.

“Go ahead, pretty girl. Squirt on this dick..we’ll worry about the seats later. Fuck it.” Smirking as he watched your eye stretch and mouth gape as that slippery orgasm came barreling out of you; soaking everything within your vicinity. He was so satisfied in himself for completely wrecking you. Getting that body so hooked on him, you wouldn’t look back or around for another man ever again. Not even giving you ample time to recuperate, he’d penetrate that tightness once more, so that he could give you what you had been begging him for all week:

“Come in me..come in this fucking pussy, daddy..” Talking him through it as well with gritted teeth and tears rolling down your face. “Want me to nut in it, baby? Veins began to bulge from atop his forehead and Jean was breathing so heavily, eventually letting out a loud cry before spilling every last drop of that seed into your womb. Not stopping for an entire minute and remaining stuck between those walls many moments after. He wanted to enjoy you…be one for as long as possible. Tugging you back against his heaving chest, Jean snaked his tongue between your lips and fed you sloppy pecks before the two of you erupted into a soft chuckle against each other’s mouth. “I love you, Jean. I love you so much..” so proudly declaring as you ran your fingertips along his stubble ridden face. And there was no doubt in your mind that he felt the same. After all, it was him who showed you what that four letter word meant again after facing such heartbreak. But as long as you’d allow him to remain in your life…to care for you with all he had…

“I love you more, pretty girl. Don’t ever forget it.”

he’d make you the happiest woman alive. Even if it meant hurting his best friend to do so! Just then, your love fest was interrupted by a faint buzzing on the heated seats. That’s when you’d both look down to see your phone illuminating with a very familiar contact:

Connie: I miss you (y/n)..please call me. I’m sorry.

but needless to say, he wouldn’t be getting a reply any time soon.

#cherry’s drabbles 🍒🌷 #aot x black reader #black fem reader #jean x black reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirchstein #jean kirschstein smut #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirschtein #aot drabbles #aot au #hospital au #aot smut #aot jean #jean aot #aot x y/n #aot x black y/n #black reader insert #smut imagine #fuck I missed writing so much #cw smut #cw sex mention #cw cheating

[y-rhywbeth2]

Gods and Clergy: Bane

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Religion | Gods | Shar | Selûne | Bhaal #1 | Bhaal #2 | Mystra | Jergal | Bane #1 | Bane #2 | Bane #3 | Myrkul | Lathander | Kelemvor | Tyr | Helm | Ilmater | Mielikki | Oghma | Gond | Tempus | Silvanus | Talos | Umberlee | Corellon | Moradin | Yondalla | Garl Glittergold | Eilistraee | Lolth | Laduguer | Gruumsh | Bahamut | Tiamat | Amodeus | The rest of the Faerûnian Pantheon --WIP

Well, I did the murderhobos, might as well cover the deity and daily business of our favourite hot-topic-shopping dictator and co. now? Ahahahahaaaaa There is too much goddamn material on Bane, I'm going to kill Ed Greenwood-

Intro: If you're not consumed with fear and hatred while trying to take over a city which you intend to rule with cruelty and an iron fist then this is not the religion/political party for you. If this is not the religion/party for you, please lower your neck so that I can attach this slave collar to it.

Banites: The hierarchy and rituals and stupid toys of the church of Bane is what you get when Lawful Evil and Lawful Stupid have a horrible, overcomplicated offspring called Lawful Sadistic. Bring me the avatar of Bane I'm going to stab this fucker Also, being goth is mandatory.

Dreadmasters: More teleporting! Bossy, immune to fear and fond of magic rods. Also, do you remember that "divine oath" Durge and Gortash swore...?

The Chosen: Should be way more impressive than what we saw in game. Forging unbreakable oaths! Pet beholders! Detachable shadow spies! Etcetera!

Bane: Boy, the world (and my sanity) would've been a much better off if this dude had gotten intensive therapy instead of divine power!

(This thing is too fucking long and should perhaps be split into two posts but ooooh my god am I not editing this anymore.)

---

Bane's clergy often hear their god whispering his dogma in their dreams:

"Serve no one but me. Fear me always - and make others fear me even more than you do. The Black Hand always strikes down on those who stand against it in the end. Defy me and die - or in your death find loyalty, for I shall compel it. Submit to my will, [as uttered by my ranking clergy] since true power can only be gained through service to me. [Spread the dark fear of Bane.] It is the doom of those unguided by me to let power spill through their hands. [Those who cross the Black Hand meet their dooms earlier and more harshly than those who worship other deities.]" - Bane's Dogma [with 14th century addendums in brackets]

Bane is basically the quintessential villain of the Realms. When a person pictures the face of evil, they picture this god and his followers.

The most important thing to know about Bane and his religion, in my opinion, is summed up here:

"The summons [from Ao] had come wearing the face and form of that which each of the gods feared most. [...] To the Black Lord, Bane, the summons came in the guise of absolute love and understanding, its light searing his essence as it carried him from his kingdom." - Shadowdale

You want to give one of the most evil bastard in the pantheon a panic attack? Give him a hug.

Following a brief version of a backstory that has been given for him; the mortal who would be Bane was born on Abeir, Toril's linked twin planet/parallel universe. There he was a nameless battle slave to Maram of the Great Spear - an ancient primordial being of absolute evil whom the Netherese had summoned into the world, where it broke free and started inflicting horrors upon the world. While in the service of said horrifying evil, the young slave nurtured ambitions of having absolute power for himself.

While on Toril he teamed up with his two future frenemies, Bhaal and Myrkul, and they killed (or possibly subjugated) his master and took his power for themselves, before heading off to nag Jergal for his job. After bickering, the ex-slave known only as "the Bane of the Ancients" wins the draw and gets to be what he always wanted - the epitome of tyranny with godlike power. The next step for him is to conquer the mortal world and destroy all the other gods so that none have power and control over him.

Banite religion is founded on the principle of making Bane's dream of global domination possible. Every Banite is a link in the chains of Bane's power. What they rule, he rules. All Banites strive to take over something (village, city, kingdom, army, whatever). All Banites are expected to aid and obey their superiors in this domination.

When in control, a Banite is to use their power to "further the cause of hate, fear, destruction and strife." Doing so within the control of the law is preferable, but chaos is tolerated as long as that chaos is wielded as a tool with perfect control. You can get voted into power by stirring up people's fears of minorities, or start the apocalypse and present yourself as the saviour - but you must not be overwhelmed, or you have failed.

The world is divided into slaves who have no power and exist to serve, and the powerful who command them. Bane is the rightful master of all and all are to serve him, and by extension his followers (those with the strength to seek, take and hold power), willingly or by force. Control is the key virtue in the eyes of the faith. Always be in control and/or be controlled by somebody more capable/deserving of power than you. As their lessers are expected to obey every order perfectly, the superiors are expected to be competent in their leadership and wield perfect command.

Banites pride themselves on being cold and decisive in all that they say and do. They also enjoy cutting sarcasm. It's vital to appear in command of yourself and the world around you - shouting, loss of temper and other outbursts of behaviour that suggest a lack of control/power are avoided like the plague. Two Banites on the brink of killing each other may appear to be in the midst of only a polite, but insistent disagreement.

Bane used to enjoy watching his power hungry idiots backstabbing each other to climb the ranks while overzealous worshippers splintered into factions and started killing each other (most notably a divide between the divine-magic based orthodoxy and the arcane-magic based reformers/"Transformers".) Then Mystra technically killed him during a fight with Torm in the Time of Troubles, and Cyric took over his church. When Bane made a comeback in the 14th century he immediately decided they wouldn't be doing that anymore. Now it's an united rigid hierarchy from top to bottom, and Banites are a well organised, well equipped unit.

The laws of the heathens are irrelevant, but a Banite who gets caught breaking those law trying to achieve their goals is expected to suck it up and do the time for failure - unless they've been doing such a good job that everybody's too far under their control to try and punish them for it, in which case great job. A+ in Bane worship.

Banites typically establish themselves in an area by finding a location out of sight of a civilisation and building a fortress, where they build their power until they are too strong a force to drive off. Taking over an existing fort is also a possibility. The temple is run like a military base: spartan, with only tapestries showing Bane's symbol and religious texts on it for decoration. The courtyard is meant for military drills and rituals, and there's a mass hall for dining and holding prayer. They like pointy architecture. And black. Oh, and the torture basements! Can't forget those. It's also where they keep a variety of trained monsters in pens. You may end up sharing your cell with a displacer beast or something, but don't worry about it.

Banites have a secret network of teleporting spells. The actual "portals" will be any space of stone big enough to stand on, which are magically connected to other points (also stone). If you stand on one and speak the correct password, then it will teleport you to the destination designated by that password. There are no spells or barriers that can prevent the teleporter from arriving at their destination. Banites can bring others along with them if they are physically connected when the password is said. They can't bring more than 100lbs of inanimate matter with them.

All are welcome to convert to Bane. There will be an interview where your intentions are checked, although if it turns out you're not actually evil-aligned you can still join. There's a good chance that they'll use magic to turn you into an "incorruptible champion of evil and uncompromising disciple of order" anyway; "for Bane recognizes the value of those who have seen the lure of good and turned away from it to serve evil."

Or just use dark magic to twist you from a person into a weapon/guard/servant bound to the service of Bane anyway.

Banites are also able to ensure loyalty with a magically binding divine oath called the Dark Promise, cast by his favoured priests (Dreadmasters). It's an old spell, back from the early days when Bane was a new god and his followers were vulnerable, and is not used as often. When the spell is cast and the oath is made, a set of circumstances are set into motion that targets of the spell must follow to the letter. The promise must have Bane's interests at heart and the conditions and stipulations cannot be endanger the individuals' lives. If the oath is violated, it drains the oath breaker's life force. The damage done by this spell cannot be healed, and if the oath breaking does not cease then they will die.

Bane is one of the few exceptions amongst the gods in that his worshippers are all henotheistic rather than polytheistic. Banites consider worship of other deities "foolish," Bane is the only master you should truly serve. All under Banite rule will be forced to convert to the worship of Bane. They are however willing to cooperate with the followers of Loviatar (pain), Talona (disease), Malar (predation), and Mask (thievery) as Bane has terrified these gods into allying with him. From a certain school of Banite thought, this means that they and their followers are part of the chains of Bane's will (the gods/faithful in question probably wouldn't agree). Bhaal was, or perhaps still is, a servant of Bane and he and Myrkul have also been counted amongst Bane's allies in the past, despite their tendency to squabble, so cooperation with Bhaalists and Myrkulites is not unimaginable when it serves both their deities.

Banites do not get on so well with... anybody, but they particularly hate worshippers of Ilmater (compassion), Tyr (justice), Helm (non-Banite order), Lathander (optimism/renewal), Torm (champion of the innocent), Oghma (knowledge) and Mystra. If they get their hands on one they'll usually torture them and leave their mutilated bodies somewhere for the distressed public to find. Bane and Cyric are still at war, both due to humiliation and the fact that they're still fighting over areas of divine power that the other has stolen/reclaimed from the other, and the corpses of Cyricists that fall into Banite hands are usually found with "heretic" branded on their foreheads as a warning to others who worship the usurper.

Banite clergy are expected to always be armed, and it is mandatory that you at least wear something black at all times. For ceremonial purposes, Banites wear black armour or robes with a blood-red cape. Wizards like to enchant their robes so that they swirl and give off illusions of glittering with "black stars" and have blood dripping off the hem. The higher in the ranks you go, the fancier the clothes get. Banites used to have facial tattooing, although this made them rather easy to identify and kill off when Cyric took over and some purges took place. The highest ranking Banites can be identified by a gem that they wear on their forehead. Banites are not expected to wear anything that would identify their religious affiliations if it would get them persecuted, but they do like decorating their clothes with spikes and are are expected to dress in a certain specific colour that I'm getting sick of typing out. When Bane rules the world we will all be dressing as goths under threat of execution...

Each priest has a ceremonial staff denoting their rank, which they will have at these rituals. When a Banite dies they are buried with it. They are unenchanted and purely for ceremony, at most being used to light braziers. It starts with a simple black wood staff [level 1], which at higher ranks has an ivory skull at the top [lvl 2-4]. Higher yet they add silver plating, and the skull is the size of a fist [lvl 5], and the even higher level priests that skull has ram horns [lvl 6]. After that you get real human skulls! [at lvl 7+]! They're allowed to decorate theirs how they like, as well as adding enchantments. So gemstones, magic runes, etc.

Bane's holy symbol is the Black Hand, a symbol of terror recognisable to the entire Realms. Versions include a black handprint, a black claw or a metal gauntlet embedded with jewels. Priests usually wear a replica of the hand as a carved pendant of black stone. There is another Black Hand seen on his high-ranking priests: elbow-length gloves crafted of flexible metal mesh or chainmail, usually worn on the left hand. It emits an eerie dark radiance, i's supposed to be black, and a non-Banite found wearing one can expect every Banite on the planet to hunt them to the ends of the world for this blasphemy (also it's about 50,000gp in value jfc). The gauntlet cannot be damaged by force and absorbs all spells of third level or less. Area of effect spells are not negated, but cannot affect the wearer. It can drain magic out of items, should the wearer touch them with intent to do so. The wearer can then discharge all of the absorbed magic into the body of another by touching them, causing them damage. They can also paralyze undead and living beings via touch.

To question or disobey a superior is to question or disobey Bane himself, and is answered by torture, disfigurement and/or death. The word of a Banite of superior rank is law, and you will do literally anything they ask you to do.

Banites have invented a magic whip (a mystic lash) that does all sorts of fun nonsense in case that happens. It's made of glowing red energy. If the priest needs their hands free then the whip can actually wield itself (need to scourge that annoying initiate, but you don't want to look up from your book? Then good news!) If the wielder choses, a lash of the whip may cause one of the following; paralysis, memory loss, seizures, extra damage plus the disintegration of equipment, or electrocution.

One is expected to greet those of higher rank by kneeling in front of them and kissing their boots

At the bottom of the hierarchy are the novices, who are addressed by the title of "slave." If they're good enough, Bane will send them a dream vision or manifest as a voice speaking from one of his altars - he will name them, and they are allowed to enter the first rank of the priesthood… of which there are 12 ranks with their own unique addresses, which everybody is expected to memorise. Disrespect to a higher rank will, as mentioned, involve insulting Bane and lead to torture, disfigurement and potential death.

The only time you're not expected to use the titles is when in the presence of heathens, Banites will address each other as Brother/Sister Faithful (when speaking to an equal/lesser) or Dread Brother/Sister (when addressing a superior).

Banites do not refer to each other by name, only by the name of their rank (unless there are too many individuals of the same rank. In the case you had a room full of Black Fangs, you would address them individually as Black Fang [Surname].) It's generally impossible for eavesdroppers to learn the names or personal details of a Banite.

The rankings are determined by character level, and are as follows:

Watchful Brother/Sister/Sibling

Deadly Adept

Trusted Servant

Willing Whip

Hooded Menace

Black Fang

Striking Hand

Vigilant Talon

Masked Death

Dark Doom

Higher Doom

Deep Mystery

The Deep Mysteries include the Deeper Mysteries… which have their own ranks! Secret, higher levels which are unknown to those of the first 11 levels who must address all higher ranking Banites as "Deep Mystery." There is no official means by which a Banite is bestowed this title, they bestow them upon themselves if they believe they should have the rank. The test lies in the fact that in order to keep the title their fellow Banites must also begin using them - in other words if you are not a pretender and truly have the power and authority to hold this title, then your siblings in the faith will follow.

The ranks of the Deep Mysteries, in order of authority, from lowest to highest:

Vigilator

Lord/Lady of Mysteries

Lord/Lady of the Hand

Imperceptor

Dark Imperceptor

Grand Bloodletter

High Inquisitor

The High Imperceptor is the Banite of highest rank of the Deep Mysteries, supreme living servant of Bane, and unlike the prior titles this one cannot be self-bestowed. I haven't seen any explanation for how it is bestowed, but I imagine Bane decides.

Banites don't bother with set holy days. We will have a holy day whenever the leading priest decides we're having one, and it will be called whatever they decide it is. This usually means a) somebody fucked up, time for a public punishment; or b) we've got an enemy/traitor, time for human sacrifice.

Rituals are to be held in as close to pitch darkness as is possible, gathered around the Black Altar (a wood table covered in a black cloth, a block of black stone - whatever, just so long as it's black so we can give it an ominous name). The Black Altar is to be made holy by having a replica of the Holy Hand of Bane floating above it (this too has to be black in colour). This is a levitating 6 foot tall stone hand that can sense alignments within a 60 foot radius, and it will attack good-aligned people on encountering them. When not in use it patrols Banite locations, seeking out spies and intruders and killing them.

And that the Seat of Bane will be placed in front of the Black Altar. The chair is black, its back is carved into the shape of a hand. Senior clergy sit in the throne when acting as Bane's voice for the rest of the congregation. So the leader of the area's Banites sits in the chair, and that means Bane is sitting in the chair. While sitting in it, the seated can read the thoughts of all beings within 90 yards. it can project a forcefield around the chair; can nullify magic in the area; allows the seated to see through illusions and invisibility; know the alignment of everyone present; allow the seated to speak with dead; and also conjure walls of fire. If the chair is knocked over, it causes a massive explosion of fire that kills everyone around it.

Then the party. With minimum partying and maximum solemn, ominous chanting and deep, heavy drum beats. Those guilty of disobedience or other failures will be chained to the altar and whipped in front of the congregation. And then there's the human sacrifice: "Sacrifices had to be humiliated, tortured, and made to show fear before dying to be acceptable to Bane, and they usually met their deaths through slashing, flogging, or being crushed by the Hand of Bane."

The traditional power base of the Banite faith was Zhentil Keep, the base of operations for the Zhentarim. The Black Network has once again been taken from Bane by Cyricists however, after the death of Fzoul Chembryl a few decades back - Fzoul was a Chosen of Bane and basically his favourite servant (who has since been made into a quasi-deity bearing some of Bane's divine power, that he may continue to serve) and Zhentil Keep is currently in ruins. The loss of the Keep (for a second time) destroyed Zhentarim power, and now they're mostly just a bunch of mercenaries with good connections on the black market trade routes (slaves, drugs, weapons, etc) as far as I can find.

-

The Dreadmasters are Bane's specialty priests, making up 10% of all Banites. Dreadmaster is a unisex title. They spend their time doing all the spellwork and making all the delightful inventions that have been giving me a headache. They have a stupid number of spells given to them. Nobody else's specialty priests have this many fucking spells.

They cannot feel fear from sources other than Bane

They can, however, project the feeling of absolute terror into every being within 10 feet of them, usually causing everyone to run screaming.

They can completely destroy the souls of the dying

Create extra evil undead

Create powerful, still sapient undead servants from dead Banites (from ghouls up to vampires)

Create animated suits of armour that serve the Banites, powered by people's souls

Make a warding symbol drawn with a mixture containing three drops of blood from a collection made by sacrificing 30 people. The ward is invisible and cannot be detected, and when activated it drains the life out of everyone present.

They have a supernatural knack for reading other's true moods and intentions They have a supernatural level of charisma and authority over their servants, who cannot help but be fanatically loyal

They are exceptionally skilled in the artificing of magical wands, rods and staves. When they use them the magic of the items is increased.

They're the ones who cast the stonewalk spells that make the teleport network run.

They're also the priests responsible for binding the Dark Promise.

-

"The Chosen of Bane are tyrants in every sense of the word, consumed with the quest for absolute power. Hand-picked by the deity of tyranny and fear, [they] are both charismatic and filled with hate [...] They seek only to rule with absolute, unchallenged authority over every living and undead create across the world."

They are unbothered by temperature, both hot and cold, as well as resistant to being burned or electrocuted.

They do not age, though they will still die at an age where they would've died if they did age.

Supernatural insight into motives and emotions, and a massive boost to their charisma.

They can mind control people, are immune to fear, can share this immunity with others or increase the fear they feel.

They can also cast gaes, which is basically exactly the same as the Dark Promise, but doesn't necessarily have to benefit Bane (blasphemous as that sounds).

They can summon undead beholders to serve them

They can grant their own shadows independence as an undead creature of the same name (shadows), While separate the shadow is free-willed, though the two remain telepathically linked.

They are served by a retinue of their own master's servants including: doppelgangers; helmed horrors; beholders; undead Banites; hell hounds; imps; displacer beasts; Banelar nagas (evil snake things with human faces)

-

Bane doesn't like using avatars, if he needs to manifest on Toril he just possesses people in positions of wealth and power who transform into handsome, yet "oily" looking black haired men as long as he's inhabiting them. The souls of these people are forced to watch as the god does what he wants. Once the body is "worn out" from all the punishment he puts them through (mortal shells, so fragile) he'll move to another evil or neutral mortal via touch.

If he strikes out with his gauntleted hand, then there is a good chance that the person stuck will drop dead.

In combat he warps the face into a more beastial visage. His hands become talons capable of "rending flesh and bone" and in the Time of Troubles when he was first forced to manifest as a normal human he immediately started editing the body into a more demonic visage although that might've been because he'd just crash landed in his own temple and destroyed it, and only had a few moments until his torture happy zealots turned up to find what seemed to be some random dude standing in the wreckage. He was in kind of a panic trying to make sure they saw Bane, God of Tyranny not... that.

His other manifestations as a pair of blazing red eyes staring out from the darkness, and a black, taloned hand which was the temperature of ice to the touch. They work exactly like his other manifestation.

Bane sometimes announces his presence, and that he is paying attention to you, with the sudden manifestation of the giant footprint of a boot, scorched into the earth. He shows his approval of his followers through their sudden discovery of a black sapphire. His disapproval is shown through the sudden appearance of red carnelian, ground into dust.

He is served by various devils, beholders, death tyrants (the undead remains of beholders that failed him), black dragons, banelar nagas and pride incarnates

Bane can cast any spell at will, save those that heal or create.

Bane was slain in the Time of Troubles. After his death his followers had an even bigger row between those who were loyal to Bane (orthodoxy) and those who worshipped his portfolio instead of the god himself and switched to Cyric. Many of the Orthodoxy began worshipping Iyachtu Xvim the Godson, son of Bane (whose mother was either a fiend or a fallen human paladin, nobody's sure).

Xvim was doing a pretty ok job in his nascent godhood up until 1372 DR, when Bane hijacked the essence of himself he'd left in his son and destroyed him - being reborn within his body and immediately regaining the rank of Greater Deity. About a few years following the Bhaalspawn Crisis, the year where Bhaal was supposed to be reborn from the death of his kids but failed.

Bane went on to continue being one of the most infamous, powerful and dangerous gods on Faerûn up until the Second Sundering, when suddenly we've got confusion.

In BG3 canon, the Dead Three are clearly greater than quasi-deity status. Due to new rules that WotC pulled out of their ass, gods of lesser deity status or higher cannot manifest avatars. Bane can still empower clerics and have Chosen, so he's most likely still a Greater Deity in BG3.

In Descent into Avernus, the Dead Three are apparently quasi-deities now, forced to exist in permanent avatars on Toril and unable to grant spells of have Chosen.

I think this nicely explains what I mean when I say D&D has no fucking "real" canon, it's all just a mountain of everyone's headcanons.

#Bane doesn't need to torture people; having to learn all the stupid details in his religion is already hell #enver gortash #long post #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

[piratefishmama]

Fake It 'till You Make It | Part 1

The phone was ringing. It was eight in the morning, on a Sunday, and the phone was ringing. Eddie rolled over, pushing his face into his pillow in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he’d suffocate in the sweet embrace of his misshapen, well-loved pillow before whoever dared to call at such an ungodly hour, decided to give up.

No dice. However his uncle did seem to be answering it for him, bless that man, bless each and every one of his gray hairs.

“Eddie, up an at em, son! S’fer you!” Damn him. Damn him and all his gray hairs.

“Nggghhhh!!!!” Was his very coherent response

“It’s one of those kids’a yours!” Kids? He had kids? Oh shit he had kids, right. kids who should know better than to call at EIGHT. AM. AM. THE MORNING.

ON A SUNDAY.

Just inconsiderate really. He’d spent the majority of the previous night convincing the Gillespie’s that maybe their daughter didn’t actually need to get onto the endless carousel that was the dating scene.

Convincing them that maybe the dating pool was so batshit insane that it was for the best that she remain perfectly single for a little while longer. That maybe being single wasn’t nearly as bad as being with whatever the fuck Eddie Munson was.

Eddie had spent the entire evening referring to her father by his first name as it visibly pissed him off, called his daughter ‘sweet cheeks’ and slapped her ass as she left the room one too many times (any time more than zero times was too many times), offered her mother a joint to chill the fuck out, talked about his band incessantly, he’d gone all out on the ‘disrespectful sack of shit’ angle until he’d been forbidden to date their daughter.

Then listened with glee outside the door while they declared she was forbidden from dating for as long as it took to shake her from her ‘bad boy’ phase. A job well done, she’d slipped him the fifty bucks she owed for the night through the back window, and he was on his way. Fifty bucks better off!

Megan wasn’t having a bad boy phase. Megan was a lesbian waiting for the perfect opportunity to get the fuck out of Hawkins. She just… couldn’t handle her parents constantly asking about her dating life. Or her lack of a dating life.

She was beautiful, the picture of stereotypical femininity, they had no idea why their daughter wasn’t snagging one of the rich Loch Nora guys like a Harrington, or a Johnson, or even one of the B grade rich guys like Hagan, or Peters.

She was too busy with a Holloway.

Then the following hours before he’d eventually passed out, he’d been slowly working through memorizing the chorus tabs of an Iron Maiden song he’d been meaning to learn for one of the covers used to bulk up Corroded Coffin’s sets. Jeff already had his parts down, Eddie had been lagging.

“M’not here!”

“Says it’s important!”

“Tell em I’m dead!”

There was a pause, and then his bedroom door was opening, and a cushion was thrown at his head, forcing him upright to shout his indignation to the world while his uncle stood there stern and unimpressed “Boy get your backside up an talk to y’damn friends.”

“Nghhh, fine.” He was up anyway. The phone ringing had woken him up. It’d take a miracle to fall back into a full snooze now. He shoved his blankets aside, trudged past his uncle, and snagged the phone from where Wayne had left it on the little table by the window. “Whomever this may be, I’m nuking your stats next session for the unholy crime of waking me up before noon.”

“But I’m calling about a job”

“Ahh, Henderson. Might as well just tear up the sheet for that little gnome now, kid.”

“He’s a dwarf and— ngh whatever, I needed to roll a new character anyway. Listen! I have a job for you, if you want it, one of your weird little rent a guy gigs” not something he was proud to have let slip around the kids. It could get weird if they made assumptions!

But if it got him an extra buck or two without having to do much other than be an over the top version of himself, then what was the harm? It wasn’t like he was selling his body or anything, just his funhouse personality.

“…Go on.”

“Okay so… don’t freak out, but… it’s a guy. He’s cool though!! Like, really cool, super chill, no danger to you what so ever.” That was fine, his ‘dates’ were usually fake but that didn’t erase the very real danger of being perceived by two of an older less cool generation that talked. “He knows it’s all fake so it’s just acting—"

“And this guy’s parents? How cool are they?” It wasn’t just faking a date, it was faking it in front of parents. Parents who usually weren’t about to approve of him when it was a heterosexual relationship. A Homosexual one? He really didn’t want to have to go through the real risks of hate crimes with a teenager, but Dustin clearly wasn’t getting the danger aspect there.

“I don’t know, I don’t really know them, but he says he can explain everything if you give him a chance, he’s free today, he even said he’d buy you breakfast if you meet him early!”

“…And he knows I’m a him, not a her, right?”

“Yeah, I said he was cool! The gay thing isn’t a big deal to him.”

“I’m not—” it was instinctual, Dustin didn’t know what he was, maybe he’d heard rumours, but he didn’t outright know that his dungeon master was a queer. Probably for the best, as lovely as Claudia Henderson was, she was very susceptible to accepting the crowdsourced opinion on things. She didn’t have her sons need to question everything.

She’d probably pull him from every Hellfire meet ever if Dustin let it slip that the guy in charge was queer.

“I know you’re not, but it’s fake right? it’s not like you guys have to do anything other than claim to be dating, right?” True… he never actually did anything with his ‘dates’. Usually just telling the parents they were dating was enough of a shock to the system to hide the lack of proof. The most he’d ever done was slap an ass here and there, maybe wrap an arm around a waist or two.

That was enough for the ‘traditional’ close minded Parents of Hawkins.

“…Fine, I’ll hear the guy out, but I’m only hearing him out alright! I’ll decide on whether or not I wanna take this job only after he explains, got it?”

“Got it!!”

“Alright, tell him to meet me at Benny’s in twenty.” Another quick confirmation and Eddie was hanging up the phone. so much for going back to sleep but at least he’d get a lovely breakfast out of it.

Part 3 

#PirateWrites #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet

[grapementos]

How would Mha characters react when they find out your injured? (Requesting for Bakugo,Izuku,Kirishima,Aizawa and Denki! More can be added to ur liking!) ❤️

title

『 ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ꜱɪɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴀɴᴛʟʏ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ. 』

⤷ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴋ. ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ, ᴋ. ᴅᴇɴᴋɪ, ɪ. ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ, ᴇ. ᴋɪʀɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ, ꜱ. ᴀɪᴢᴀᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⤷ ᴄᴡ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ

you’d been too confident, too sure of the power that your quirk held. you misstepped, miscalculated, was three steps behind the villain as they swept you off your feet—not in the good way.

your head slammed against the ground as your legs crumpled beneath you, your ears ringing so loud it hurt your brain. your vision blurred, but you fought to focus again.

just as the villain moved to strike again, you rolled over and jumped to your feet, using the adrenaline to attack when they weren’t looking.

thankfully, your blow landed, but thanks to their quirk, it mirrored the damage and sent you flying.

you groaned as your back met a solid wall, the taste of iron filling your mouth, “fuck.”

thankfully, your head was left unscathed this time around, so you were able to pull yourself back up and strategize. adrenaline ran hot through your body, numbing the pain of the two recent attacks.

you attacked, but without your quirk, staying out of their line of vision. finally, when they weren’t paying attention, you used your quirk to finish the job.

you slapped some cuffs on them and called the police and then one of your sidekicks, letting them know your state and that you wouldn’t be able to make it back on your own.

once you hung up, you dropped down against the wall, the pain finally caught up to you, red-hot all over your body as you slowly slipped out of consciousness.

-

❥ katsuki stormed into the infirmary of your agency, wildly searching for you. the moment he laid eyes on you, relief evident all over his face.

“oh god, are you okay?” he grabbed your hand, squeezing it tight.

you coughed, your free hand resting on your ribs, “yeah. just a little banged up.” you lifted your shirt, showing the blossoming bruises, “you should see the other guy.”

he wasn’t laughing, not even smiling, “why didn’t you call for backup?”

“thought i could take ‘em.” you mumbled, a little embarrassed at your own weakness, “sorry.”

he sighed and shook his head, skimming his thumb over the back of your hand, “we can talk about it later. i’m just glad you’re okay. no permanent damage?”

you shook your head, “just a crap ton of pain. concussed. too much light hurts my eyes.”

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “i’ll stay with you and make sure it’s as dark as you need it to be.”

“thanks, kats.” you smiled, giving his hand a light squeeze, “thanks for coming.”

“of course, baby. the moment i found out you were hurt, i started running over here.”

“you ran?” you giggled but stopped once the pain in your side grew to be too much.

“yeah, was a couple blocks away. don’t laugh, i don’t want you to get more hurt.” he frowned.

“‘kay, i wont. i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

❥ kaminari nearly stumbled over himself as he busted into the infirmary, eyes already red-rimmed after he’d heard the news. you felt the nervous energy buzzing off of him as soon as he stepped into the room, a faint hum being heard as his quirk interacted with the lights.

once he saw you, he was immediately by your side, hands on your cheeks, “are you okay?”

he was just a bit too loud, hurting your already throbbing head.

once he noticed you wince, he apologized and spoke at a whisper, “sorry, love. how are you feeling?”

you nodded, “i’m okay. just bruised and have a bit of a concussion.”

his face was pained just at the thought of you being hurt, “as soon as we get out of here, we’re gonna lay down, watch movies with the blinds closed and lights off, and take it easy.”

you smiled at the idea, “sounds amazing, kami.”

he kissed your hand, “then hurry up and get better, okay?”

you nodded, slowly and carefully scooting over to make some room for him on the bed, "lay with me?"

he grinned, carefully claiming the spot next to you. it was a tight fit, but he was able to lay by your side without causing you any pain.

"think i'm gonna nap." you mumbled, looking at him with tired eyes.

"alright, i'll be right by your side, baby."

❥ midoriya was a mess when he finally walked through the door, having stopped at the store to pick up anything you might have needed, including an extra pair of clothes.

"sorry i didn't get here sooner," he placed the items on the bureau, "i thought you might need some food and clothes. i know your quirk takes a lot out of you, not to mention your injuries, so--"

"izu," you stopped him, squeezing your eyes shut, "just come be with me, please."

he shut up, making his way over to you, "how're you feeling?"

"i'm okay. i should've called for backup," you reached out for his hand, linking your pinkie with his.

"yeah, you should've, but now you'll know for next time." he assured, "i'm just so relieved that you're okay. i hate that you don't have a partner."

"don't." you stopped him, cause you knew exactly where this conversation was going, "you're not quitting your agency and joining mine or vice versa. we're doing good, izu. this was just a bump in the road."

he sighed, pulling up a chair next to your bed, "yeah. okay. i know you can handle yourself, but it still scares me."

you smiled, "well, i may not have one for all, but i can handle myself. i just got cocky today. i'm okay, izuku. we're okay."

he nodded, seemingly convinced by your words, "alright, i trust you. now, get your rest. i'll be here."

you kissed his hand, "i know you will."

❥ kirishima all but tore the door off its hinges to get into your room. he was by your side faster than you could've even kept up with, worry and fear evident in his eyes.

"are you okay? your commissioner called me an--and, i came straight here--they didn't give me any specifics, i just--"

"woah, eiji," you grabbed his hand, placing it over your heart, "feel it? i'm okay. just got thrown around a little. kinda part of this whole hero deal."

he calmed down at the feeling of your heart thrumming against his palm, an significant amount of stress rolling off his body in waves, "yeah, okay." he whispered, getting his bearings, "sorry, sorry, i just.. i assumed the worst."

"i know you did. you always do, but i'm here, and we're together, and everything's okay." you assured, intertwining your fingers with his, "i just wanna go home w'you already."

"i know, but i think they're gonna keep you here overnight," he frowned, "i'll stay here with you. sleep on a chair or something."

"you can sleep with me, ei." you rolled your eyes but immediately regret it when even that hurt your head, "just don't crush me in your sleep."

he shook his head, "no way. i can't risk that. really, i'll just ask for a cot or something."

you knew he wouldn't budge, so you nodded, "fine. but you're holding my hand all night."

he grinned for the first time, showing you that blinding, sharp smile that you love, "duh."

❥ despite how calm he usually was, aizawa swung the door open to the infirmary, scared and a bit angry.

"do you want me to scold you before or after i ask if you're okay?" he frowned, approaching your bed.

"get it over with." you couldn't help but grin, ready for the reminder of all the mistakes you made that landed you in the infirmary in the first place.

he narrowed his eyes, "backup, y/n. the entire point of having sidekicks and being a hero out in the public eye is that you have backup--visibility. you're strong, but you're too self-reliant."

"you think i'm strong?"

his eye twitched. he really didn't see the humor in your situation, but it was you, and he could never stay mad at you, "y/n, you're insufferable, but i'm being serious. being a hero means knowing when to call for help, so please, for my sanity and your health, can you master that skill?"

you sighed, knowing he was right, "yeah, i can. i'm sorry. i just got cocky after i moved up in the ranks this past week."

"that's why i chose underground," he muttered, "numbers get in your head and make you think you're invincible, like some omnipotent god."

you giggled, holding onto your side as pain flared up, "not this again. you're never gonna persuade me to be an underground hero. i am an omnipotent god."

"and that's how you wound up here, in an infirmary." he pinched the bridge of his nose, "you're gonna be the death of me."

"at least you'll go out with a bang," you grinned, reaching up for his hand.

he grabbed it, placing a kiss atop, "true, darling. very true."

a/n: woooo, thanks for the request. funny story: i actually started writing bakugo’s part and then it became like,,, 1.5k long,,, so i’m doing a stand-alone for him!!

#bnha #anime #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #drabble #y/n #aizawa shota #shota aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #izuku mydoria #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #kirishima x reader #kirishima ejirou #kirishima ejiro #denki kaminari #denki x y/n #denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #denki x gender neutral reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta

[hainethehero]

A JOSS WHEDON HATER FOREVER- a think piece on how Avengers 1 set up Steve Rogers to be the MCU's punching bag for the rest of the franchise

(We all know Joss Whedon is an absolute garbage person. He's done many horrible things including being a racist, sexist moron who should be behind literal bars.) This is a commentary on his absolute shit writing for Avengers 1.

This one particular scene and the one following it is purely poor writing & direction for the character of Steve Rogers.👇

After Coulson dies, Fury addresses Steve and Tony and tosses Coulson's bloodied Captain America cards at Steve. He says something like "guess you never found the time to sign them" which is just horribly cruel and though not OOC for Fury, is not something he'd say lightly. We later realize here👇

...that he's secretly trying to put together the team. This is where he makes his big "there was an idea" speech and mentions that "Stark knows this." Because yeah, Tony was made aware of this in Iron Man 1 when Coulson visited and told Pepper. In contrast, Steve had no idea about the Avengers Initiative.

In fact, the dude was just pulled from the Valkyrie in the ice!! In the beginning scene of Avengers 1, we see him at the gym with the punching bag having LITERAL WAR FLASHBACKS about Bucky and Peggy and the Howlies! He's not stable and yet Fury confronts him and ropes him into the mission to get the Tesseract. Steve says, "you should've left it where you found it." And I can't help but think that maybe Steve means himself as well because dude just lost EVERYONE & EVERYTHING he literally knew and cared about.

Anyway, back to the point, Steve knows nothing about the Initiative but is suddenly made to feel guilty about Coulson's death in some kind of roundabout way of "convincing him to join the team" in honor of Coulson.

And then, to make matters WORSE, in the next scene they make HIM comfort Tony 👇

They make him say, "im sorry" (like it was his fault???!) and "he was just doing his job" and "is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" LIKE WTAF???

*INSERTS JACOB ELORDI MEME FROM EUPHORIA SAYING WHAT THE FUCKKKKK?!*

First of all, Steve barely knows these people! Second, he was fond of Coulson and I'm sure they would've been close friends. But did they have to GUILT-TRIP Steve into joining the team? Like, that's just dumb and proves that they don't actually give a fuck about his character!

AND TALK ABOUT MEAN! Fury at least knew about Steve losing Bucky on that train. He KNOWS Steve's first words when he woke up from sleep was "I had a date" reflecting the tragedy of the man out of time. To just rip him out of sleep and thrust him into a mission and later making him feel guilty about Coulson was just pure cruelty, making SHIELD no better than HYDRA. They all saw Steve as a pawn, another mindless soldier to carry out their missions and I hate JW for that.

Steve's character was not accurately portrayed nor was his trauma properly dealt with and so this is why today, we see alot of MCU "fans" calling Steve the worst avenger, lame, boring and basically a crutch to Tony's genius. (I'm a huge Tony Stark fan, don't @ me). It just felt that the mcu wanted to make Tony the ultimate hero- which is fine, Nothing's wrong with that- but they did it at the expense of Steve's character and trauma.

Sadly, this narrative continues all the way down to Endgame and for that I will always hate JW & the mcu's portrayal of Steve Rogers.

#marvel #ao3 #captain america #steve rogers #avengers #tony stark #james bucky barnes #stevebucky #joss whedon #joss whedon hater #mcu comics #chris evans #sebastian stan #robert downey jr #rdj #phil coulson #agents of shield #aos #avengers 1 #trauma #the winter soldier #catfa #catws #avengers endgame #endgame #steve rogers is too pure for this world #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #fuck you marvel #stucky

[ghouljams]

I absolutely love the thought of Price being there so much and gently pushing the threshold that eventually the threshold/ward thinks that’s he’s meant to be there. And if he can get away with it I bet your ass that he ain’t telling Witch shit until it’s the perfect opportunity for him to pounce and claim his prize.

You really hate to do this, but it feels necessary. At this point you shouldn’t have to dig into your new home rituals, the page in your grimoire has seen little use outside of client requests. Its words are still neatly inked in, no sun bleaching that you can detect, and no dog ears or creases. You scratch your head, pulling herbs(Marjoram, Rosemary, Oregano) and referencing your grimoire as you grind them down. You feel like a new witch, eyes glued to your books, unsure of your talents. It’s not a pleasant feeling, then again neither is the waving threshold. Every time you test it it’s as strong as ever, but as soon as Price is around…

That man is making more trouble for you than you’d thought he would. You suppose that’s his job in a way. Doesn’t he have anyone better to try and trap? You twist the pestle against the herb mix, move the crushed leaves with your finger to see how fine they’ve been ground. He must have someone better to bother. You reach for your rosy pink bottle of thorns and hesitate. A threat isn’t a threat if you can’t follow up on it, and a ward is just a warning if it doesn’t bite. You shake a few thorns into your mortar, breathe your intentions over the edge as you pick it up. 

You are warding your house and that’s final, no more putting it off, no more running from Price. You’re going to be a responsible adult and take care of yourself. No one is going to do it for you. You carry your mortar out to the garden and pinch out thorns and herbs to sprinkle at the four corners of it. The threshold lights up pleasantly, accepting the reinforced magic. You pat the roses idly as you pass them, thanking them for their sacrificed thorns. You stall by the gate, staring at the ivy patterns, the overgrown iron. 

A smart witch might trip the leaves back, reveal the metal underneath so wayward hands don’t try to unlatch it. Your skin prickles with chill at the thought. That feels like a definite answer, one you don’t want to give. It feels like an end to the conversation. Why does the thought that he might never get into your garden seem so unappealing? That’s the best outcome. Price is supposed to stay on his side of the gate. 

“You’re thinking awful hard about something,” He tells you, his deep voice running more chills over you.

“I’m warding the garden,” You respond, still considering the implications of a bare iron gate.

“Fancy.” He doesn’t even sound mad. Did you think he’d be mad? Should he be mad? “Against what?”

“Against you,” You tell him honestly, as is your policy. Although times like these you wonder why magic seems so keen on the truth.

“I’m flattered,” Price’s smile is always evident in his voice, even when you’re not looking at him. He taps the threshold, and you feel it like he touched you instead. The thin bow of it, the pressure and ripples it sends through the rest of the barrier. He touches it like it’s nothing. More thorns, you think. 

“It shouldn’t do that,” You look up at him finally, moving closer to inspect the air between you, “Are you doing something to it?”

“What would I be doing?” He asks, and you don’t really have an answer for that. You hum, upset that you don’t know. “Come on smart girl,” Price mumbles, you shake your head.

“No you’re right, it’s silly.” You sigh, but it’s not. You’re so wickedly clever, so fucking observant, if you just put a little more thought into it Price is sure you’d realize it was him. Couldn’t you feel it? The way the threshold was starting to question him? The way your new thorns hesitated to prick him? How your wards seem to shiver right at the edge of acceptance?

If you let him touch you again he’s sure you’d know immediately. You’d feel the way he’s been working your wards, pushing them just a little further every time he sees you. Your threshold noticing his presence over and over, never pushing for entry, but there. You’d even let him in once, is he supposed to be let in? 

Price rubs his knuckles against the edge of the threshold, just to watch you shiver. Generations of magic lick at his hand like a dog. Magic is always a reflection of its owner. What must you be thinking about when he isn’t around? He wonders. 

Still, it’s a hard barrier, it knows better than to let in uninvited guests and non-residents. Another tether from you, or another few grants of entry might do the trick. The real issue is what to do once he can cross, so many options, all of them sure to make you squirm.

#Fae!Price #oc: witch #captain price cod #captain john price #john price x reader #john price x oc #f!reader #f!oc #yeah he's keeping his lips sealed as long as he can #gotta keep the witch comfortable so she doesn't do anything rash #like banish him or actually put up Price specific wards #but she can feel that something is happening #Price is really weighing what isn't going to get him tossed out #like when can he hop the fence and how is he supposed to make sure Witch doesn't just hit him with something #gotta make the witch want him there more than she already does