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johnpriceslamb · 4 months

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heyy is it okay if u maybe due a little story of arthur morgan?? i jus love him sm

arthur comes back to camp after a job in a bad angry mood since it didnt go to plan then the reader (being his sweetheart gf) cheers him up :(🩷 -🎀

𝓐𝓛𝓦𝓐𝓨𝓢 𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔𝓥𝓔𝓡 , ˗ˏˋ 🍓 ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ꒰ The obvious annoyance which swelled in his stomach almost dies instantly when he makes eye-contact with you. ꒱ ˎˊ˗

BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┆female ! reader . hyper-fem ! reader . Arthur Morgan is a die-for 4 his sweetheart gf . OOC ! Arthur Morgan . reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than character mentioned below . not proof-read . 1.0k wrdz

꒰ arthur morgan x fem ! reader . ꒱

Muddy, wet, icky.

Sweat easily adheres to his already warm skin, rolling down the creases on his forehead and clinging to the ends of his hair. His clothes are attached to his sweat-stained skin, rusty spurrs jingling loudly with the leading sounds of water-filled boots. The sun glares down at him, taunting him even, to make his day even more miserable as it scorches the back of his neck because of the hat; lack thereof- lost from travelling back.

He’ll go find for it soon enough. Just not now.

It’s unlikely for a usual stagecoach robbery to go wrong, he’s done this many times before. Maybe he was starting to feel the effects of ageing. But somehow, things went south a bit too quickly and the man ended up in.. water. With many dead bodies floating around, and cash that wasn’t even worth it at the end.

Just thinking about that whole situation almost makes a vein pop in his head.

A grunt and a low huff escapes his chapped lips when entering the vicinity of the camp. The same water-filled boots squeak each step he took as he storms back to his bed-roll. Everyone knew he was in a bad mood, despite being far away.

Unfortunately for him, someone could not take the hint.

Miss Grimshaw.

“Mister Morgan.” She greets.

“..Miss Grimshaw.” He grunts, wiping the mud off his face just to seem less.. bearable to look at.

The older woman stares down at him for a while, sizing him up with narrowed eyes. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t been putting money in the camps communal funds for a very long time.” She prods at him.

She does not leave any room for him to reply back with just one simple glare. Arthur is smart enough to let out a low sigh and nod at her words mindlessly, not really paying attention. Said-woman sneers at him as she usually does with the others. The sight of the mud coated on his garments caused the wrinkles on her cheek to crease further, furrowing her brows in disdain.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” She flails her arms around, “A grown man covered in crap like this—” Her hand is raised, but with a light tap on her shoulder from behind comes the reluctancy of lowering her hand down to peer whom distracted her.

A meek, soft voice from behind immediately catches his attention, “Miss? Ive finished folding your clothes.”

Her attitude does a huge spin. She’s softer now, bickering to herself before mumbling a ‘thank you, dear.’ You tell her that you’ve set it by her bed-roll, to which she nods and walks away, leaving you with the man whom seemed like he was about to burst from irritation. He swore you were some kind of angel in disguise, how you manage to make her soften up just a bit is beyond his comprehension.

His eyes land on yours. It was almost like a non-verbal way of saying ‘thank you’ from practically losing the beast.

You look up at him with those familiar beady eyes, a small smile etched on your face as you eagerly come closer to him. Almost immediately do you feel the aura he radiated- tired, exhausted, angry.. and most importantly, wants to be comforted.

“Oh, dear..” You pity him akin to a pup getting kicked. The way his muck-covered clothes wiped a bit of grime on yours is something you don’t question, “Are you—

You don’t have time to say your full sentence. He’s grabbed you by the waist and easily pulls you to his tent. A soft squeal escapes your lips at the sudden movements, eyes widening at how quick he was.

And you’re squished to his chest, practically glued to him as he wraps his arms around you. The muck is easily visible on your clean dress, but did you mind? No.

You loosen up in his tight hold, placing your chin on the curve of his neck. Your finger-nails drag up and down on his back, drawing little patterns and shapes. Despite being absolutely humid, Arthur doesn’t let that become an obstacle when being with you.

Your serenade-like voice pulls him back to reality, sleepy eyes staring down at yours.

“Was it that bad?” You unconsciously touch his growing stubble, noting to yourself to cut it later. He leans into the palm of your hand, nodding wordlessly.

“Bad don’t even manage to describe the hell I went through today.” He squishes you tighter like a stuffie. He buries his face in your shoulder, the faint scent of pinewood and cinnamon invading his nose- and gosh was it such an addicting smell. He notices the simple bow you adorned in your hair, and the little bow sewed to your top. He noticed every single thing, despite feeling like he’s about to burst.

Slowly but surely, did the irritation fade away from his stomach as he holds you closely.

“‘M sorry to hear,” You apologised, frowning at the sight of your beloved so worked up. Sometimes, he wondered how the hell you even manage to be apart of this gang, “D’ya wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head with a low grunt, “Nah. Just wan’ be near you.”

The layers-upon-layers of light pink coloured frills covered his lap as you were plopped on him. He mindlessly fiddles with the pretty design, sighing loudly.

“‘M always here to talk to, y’know?” You press a kiss on his cheek.

“I know.” He sighs, cuddling you closely. You really were an angel.

“I don’t deserve you.” He mumbles quietly. You squint your eyes at his own comments, clearly not like it.

“You do.”

A moment of quiet and peace between the two of you, his hand affectionately squeezes yours as a way to comfort himself more than you.

Suddenly, the realisation hits you.

“..Arthur, think you ‘n’ I needa get a bath after this.”

#fem! reader #rdr2 x you #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #afab! reader #arthur morgan x fem! you #arthur morgan x fem! reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fanfic #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan rdr2

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ambermotta · 6 months

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Protection Magic: Some Important Concepts

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Long post based on my experience and research. Meant to be informative. I don't claim to know the absolute truth.

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Protection magic is any type of work meant to protect A from B, and there are many ways that this can be done: prayers, charms, talismans, tokens, casting circles, setting up wards, visualization. The list can go on and on because it can be done in many different ways and combining many different methods.

But methods are not the topic of this post today. No, today I would like to talk about some key concepts to keep in mind before getting started on making protections and keeping them effective.

The Importance of Cleansing

Before doing any protection work I like to do a cleansing. Imagine you have an open water bottle, and because it was open, a lot of dirt has found its way into it over time. You decide to seal the bottle so no dirt comes in, but you don't pour out the old water, so you end up sealing it in. Yes, you'll keep more dirt from coming in, but the muck is still there.

It is easier to see this being applied to a physical location, but I personally also apply this to personal protective tokens. I feel they work better when you are taking care of your energies by doing regular cleanses and managing internal negativity.

Important Definitions

Protection ≠ Banishing ≠ Cleansing

I feel a lot of people are under the impression that these are all the same. I think they all work together towards a similar goal, but their jobs are different.

Protection: protecting something from something

Banishing: driving out entities

Cleansing: clearing out energy

You can do cleansing, banishing, and protection at the same time, but that doesn't mean they are the same. You can do a ritual including all of them, but you can also just do a cleansing or just do warding (which is a form of protection).

Note: cleansing is not restricted to “negative energy”. You can cleanse any kind of energy. Exemple: a friend of yours decides tarot is not for them and hands down their deck to you. If you wanna work with that deck it is highly advisable that you do a thorough cleansing of it and then infuse it/consecrate it with the energies you want. It's not that your friend has “bad” energy, it's just that you might not want to work with the same energies they have, or use a tool that has someone else's energy in it.

Not Necessarily a Lazy Job

One important thing with protection magic is that no matter how strong or how successful are at doing it is that it is not failproof. I have yet to see protection work that lasts forever, and there may be a few reasons for it.

Negativity also comes from within

Imagine you have a fish inside an open fish tank. Just like the bottle example earlier, you decide to put a lid on so you prevent leaves from falling into the tank and polluting the water. However, there's a fish, a living being in there, and it produces waste. It is impossible for the fish to live without producing waste. If you don’t regularly clean the water, ammonia and fecal matter will build up.

In this analogy, you are the fish. I am the fish. Humans literally cannot live without ever having a negative thought or feeling, it is part of our existence and we have to live with it. No one lives in constant bliss.

That doesn't mean we have to live in the muck though. That's why cleansing yourself is important.

No one is immune to the environment

Here I have another analogy for you. Imagine you're facing a harsh winter, but you are safe in the security and warmth of your house. Your house is protected from the cold so you don't even mind it. However, you have to go outside. You dress up, go out and you feel very, very cold. You could perhaps wear something warmer, but it will never feel the same as home. Yet it is better than going outside naked, no?

Same thing for energies. You can have protection, but depending on how strong the energy in the environment is you are sure to feel it to at least some degree. However it's best to have some protection than no protection at all.

And there is a difference between Feeling an energy and dwelling in it vs Feeling an energy and not letting it latch onto you.

Energy can wear off, and new energy can build up

Energy is ever changing, ever moving. If you do a strong protection spell once, it can last for a long while, but if you forget about it it will likely lose a lot of its strength over time. Some of what you put out there might wear off and be substituted by something else. The energy can also grow stale, which means it becomes less effective.

But if you do a strong spell every month you will not only make your protections stronger, but also constantly renew the energies and not let them stagnate.

So keep doing cleanses and every now and then give a boost to your protections so they are refreshed and recharged.

Note on "Negative Energy"

One of the main reasons someone might choose to do a protection ritual and a cleansing is to ward off negative energy. But is that really needed? What is "negative energy"?

Negative energy might feel like a sense of heaviness, dread, pain, sadness, feeling ill, angry, sad or anxious. Emotions produce and attract what we can call "negative energy", the same way it can make us feel those things.

And while I personally think nobody wants to feel them, we must understand they are not always bad at their core.

The uncomfortable feelings they can cause may also be a gateway for healing and transformation. Pain tells us there is something that needs to be worked on, that needs change.

If you are feeling negative, ask yourself why. Why does this bother me? What makes me feel this way? What can I learn from this pain?

If you happen to feel negative energy, it is good to cleanse and protect. But I advise you to always look for the source to see what can be done about it or what you can learn from it. Don't just try to use spellcasting to run away from your shit. Own your shit. Deal with it.

Otherwise, it will keep coming back no matter how much protection you have.

Conclusion

It is impossible to always be free from “negative energy” all the time, no matter how strong your protections are. But protections can absorb some of the blows that you would otherwise take and ease the ones you were going to take no matter what.

Protection magic alone will not solve all your problems. It is a great tool to help you keep your center and remain grounded, but it is not usually something you do once and forget. It is a continuous, ever evolving work, meant to be used in conjunction with other types of spellwork.

And most importantly, it can give you some comfort through the many trials of life.

Thank you for reading, and good luck on your path! ♡

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kinjedl · 10 months

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A new migrant's perspective on how Tumblr works

So, basically, how Tumblr works is this:

We are all, all of us, in a series of caves. Some of the inhabitants of the caves have dug little holes or access routes to the surface, where strange things like blue tweeting birds dwell. Some of us have fled here from a site the alien rules, and a few of us are splitting our time between their weirdly bright and shining domes and our comfy moss-covered holes.

From within your cave, you can dig tunnels. Some people choose to dig tunnels up to the top of other peoples' caves just to observe. Occasionally they might sneak down and steal a choice morsel to drag back to their own hoard, sometimes they just observe. Some tunnels don't lead to the caves owned by other individuals, but instead to dumping grounds where people shove copies of things that they think are related to a single topic. There's no actual rules to that, per-se, it's just a sortve rule by collective consensus about what kinds of things should go in that cave. Sometimes things get shoved in there which don't really belong, but that's fine too.

Some people cultivate their caves to reflect their own specific sets of interest - maybe their hoard has a theme, a motif, a genre. Some people just grab whatever looks shiny and show it off to whoever comes by to look.

When you find something that's interesting, you can - and should - grab it and run back to your cave and put it on display. As everyone knows, piracy isn't stealing, since it makes a copy, so the original is left untouched. That's how things spread down here. There's no real pacing to it, so sometimes someone will make a thing, show it off, and no one will notice that it's there until later, at which point it might take off running through the caves as everyone grabs a copy. Sometimes it does that in fits and starts. Sometimes it hits a particularly nutrient rich patch of the caves and grows way out of control, far beyond its original creator's intentions. Like a slime mold that hit a big ol batch of protozoa. The slime mold thing is probably more accurate than it should be.

The point isn't the spread, though. Tumblr works opposite of how most other big content sites like Facebook and Reddit and Twitter work. In all of those, the point is to yell at the top of your lungs and get as many people to hear you. If you can't get enough people to hear you, you might spend billions to buy the platform and try to buy more of an audience that way, because the audience is the point.

On Tumblr, instead, the audience is irrelevant. The treasures you can bring back to your cave are the point. The point is to hoard and collect and grow your shinies. It's nice to show them off (because who doesn't like it when their hoard is admired?) but it's the having and the getting, not the giving.

it's more work than reddit or facebook or twitter, because no one is out here trying to tell you what should go in your hoard. Everyone everywhere else has strong feelings on what kind of kitsch and treasures and knickknacks you should have. Here, you have to dig. You'll find a lot of trash in the process, but you have the choice of where your tunnels lead, and which garbage pi... other people's hoards you're sifting through, so it's a friendly sort of grubbing in the dirt that feels comfy once you're used to the muck.

I like it here.

#reddit refugee #reddit migrants #reddit migration #tumblr culture #196 #hellsite #opinion #goblincore #gremlincore #crowcore #slimemoldcore

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metalotaku-da · 10 months

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Dcxdp Danny phantom and klarion are friends.

Danny as the ghost king who loves to prank loves teaching a younger appearance klarion all kinds of fun gags and tricks of magical nature. It's like the younger sibling he always wanted. And is a nice break from some of his royal duties. But things have been a little busier than usual they haven't gotten to really get out and have fun. Danny is 30 looks 20. Klarion is looking 14. But in the thousands for age.

Klarion is bored and upset. He wants time with Danny to himself. No interruption from clockwork or the eternal. Other ghosts. No one. It's not fair. He needs a plan to sneak Danny out of the infinite realm, hide him and not be the fall guy when they get caught. Because it's clockwork they will be caught it's the when. He needs someone else to do the summoning work. But who and how.

He lands on John Constantine. Clockwork doesn't like him much. And Danny inherited all the old kings claims. So he be able use that if things got dicey. And klarion is not a fan either of the jerk. To buddy buddy with nabou. So he has a fall guy to blame for the summoning. Just needs to setup a prank so good that John thinks he has no choice but to summon someone who could destroy the world.

Takes him a week to land on act like I'm gonna do it so he has to first. Easy. And he can brag to a bunch of villains to really drive the urgency. Perfect.

Plan worked like a charm. Maybe to good though. John got a bunch of heroes to help. No good no good. John is lieing to his super jerk friends. Klarion can see the seal. It will make Danny weaker and lock him to the jerk like a dog on a leash. Not to the artifact he said they could lock him away with. He's gotta fix this quick. He drops in the pawns he recruited to distract. While discreetly changing the ruin on the summoning without mucking it up so it doesn't work. All while fighting zantana, and racing the circle lighting up.

The summoning is completed. But something obviously went very very wrong. Klarion has teakle distract zantana while he goes over the summoning again to see what he shifted. Oopsie. The ruin for shrinking power turned to shrinking age. But thats ok. It can be fixed later. Maybe. Probably. He didn't get the teather changed before it set. But that's an easy fix by killing Constantine. But his friend is here. And now they can really play. So it's all good. Klarion is ecstatic. So much so teakle runs to him as he shrinks causing one of the supers to over swing on an attack on his familiar.

But Danny needs a minute. As he blinks wearily on his feet. Rubbing at his face. Ugh summoning. He hates summoning. And this had to be a strong one. Because he couldn't resist like most of them. Whatever once the brain fog clears he'll be good and can really give the jerks who did a real stern talking to. Or maybe he'll scare them. That sounds better. Standing infront of him is a blonde man looking like a dirty drunk cop dective from TV. Who is gapping at him as a cigarette burns on the ground at his feet. This guy has to be like a gaint too cause Danny has to really crane his head back to look up at his face. There is a bunch of commotion going on but he's to focuses on this weird feeling he has towards this weirdo. Who seems like he's confused. Maybe it was an accident. Whatever. Danny still isn't happy. He puts his hands on his hips. "Hey jerk face! What do you think your doing?" Then Danny's eyes went wide. "Oh by the ancients is that my voice! What's wrong with my voice!" Danny now clutched his throat before waving his arms wildly at the creepy man. "What did you to me you weirdo! I sound like a baby!"

"It a bloody fucking child."

"It's bad to cuss infront of kids Constantine." Someone else says outside the circle.

Danny's head snaps their direction. Danny's eyes widen as he puts his hand into view looking at himself panic taking over and he looks around at all these tall people looking at him or fighting. He opens his mouth to scream in fear or frustration he doesn't know till he hears a voice he recognizes.

"Don't wail, don't wail!" Danny closes his mouth and looks around for the source.

"Klarion?"

"Sorry my bad. I messed up change the circle so it wouldn't weaken you. And well oopsie " klarion rushed into the circle hugging little Danny tight. "But you are here. So now we can play." Klarion gasped as he pulled back from Danny. "I can be the big brother now!"

"Noooooo, klarion I was already a little brother. I wanted to be a big brother more." Danny whined. His white hair flopping over as he rolled his head in complaint.

"To bad. I'm the big brother now. We are gonna have so much fun. You just have to get rid of this looser so we can go do our thing." Klarion gestured towards Constantine.

#fanfic #danny phantom #klarion #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #de aging #john constantine

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andyeddieeee · 4 months

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What Your Favorite Band of Brothers character says about you (revamped and based on personal experiences)

Winters- You’re either a pretty level headed person or your life is in complete shambles and you find comfort in characters that know how to handle stress.

Nixon- You love a good self destructive character and more than likely see yourself in them. Also, how is your undiagnosed mental illness treating u lately?

Lipton- You just want to be held and cared for so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

Speirs- You most DEFINITELY read wattpad stories as a kid. The mafia kind. You’re also unnecessarily horny on the internet and probably say he’s “Lana-coded.”

Roe- You love a good tragic and tortured character, I’ll give you that. You also listen to boygenius and love religious imagery.

Babe- I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you’re on some type of lgbt or autism spectrum.

Liebgott- You have a really weird self-confidence complex and read a LOT of enemies to lovers. I’m lowkey scared of you even though you’ve probably never hit anyone in your life.

Webster- You’re an artist at heart and view the world in a way that might set you apart from your peers. You can never and will never tell if that’s a good or a bad thing. Also you call grown men “babygirl.”

Guarnere- You have TERRIBLE taste in men and can never tell the difference between being mean or flirting.

Toye- Ditto ^ but also may I add you probably have a thing for people in uniform.

Buck- You are a very simple person. You like everything to just be kind of normal and calm all of the time. Sometimes you dip your toes in the water, but it’s more of a once a year kind of thing. Your favorite superhero as a kid was Captain America.

Luz- You are just cool. Very Ferris Beuller, Bill and Ted, Matthew Lillard kind of cool. You’re also probably transmasc or into guys to some degree.

Shifty- You’re either one of those “omg smol bean” people or you just love a good ray of sunshine kind of character. Your favorite pony as a kid was probably Fluttershy.

Malarkey- I’m so deeply upset just looking into your eyes dawg you need to take a nap and book a therapy session. Not a single one of you guys is completely and totally stable.

Renee- You so desperately wanted this show to pass the bechdel test and wished more women were included in the production. You’re also into women.

Perconte- You’re either really cool or you’re really annoying. No inbetween.

Bull- You really liked the SNL “Big Boy” skit with SZA

Muck- You want to be the funny friend so bad and you’re still not sure if you’ve earned that title yet. Mad respect though bc I know ur ass has seen supernatural in full. More than once.

Welsh, Penkala, Spina, Talbert, Grant, Martin, Penkala, Hoobler, Skinny- Either you’re lying to be different or you genuinely love a good underrated background character.

Blithe- Mm you’re lying lol

Sobel- Hey, girl! What the fuck!

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suugarbabe · 4 months

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[Chapter 10]

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: panic attack, flashbacks, anxiety, torture, mentions of blood, mentions of violence

Turning around you did your best to avoid the big brown eyes that were following you around the bar at the club. You settled your elbows down on the bar top with a huff, Blaise giving you a puppy dog frown. His eyes reminded you of old brick libraries and vintage books, which was fitting since he was definitely reading you like one at the moment. You stood once more, trying to keep yourself busy and distracted with stocking tasks before the club officially opened for the night. It was your first day back at work since the incident and admittedly you were a little nervous. It wasn’t that you thought Damiano or any of his minions could get you while at the club, you fully understood that the name of the club itself worked as a protection charm against anyone who seeked harm against the family and as all of them had put it over the last several weeks, you were family.

You set the bottle in your hands down harshly, the class clinking on the bartop causing Blaise to jolt out of his trance. “Okay, B, out with it,” you plastered on your own annoyed grimace as he leaned back in his chair. “Dunno what y’mean, luv,” he took the cigarette from behind his ear, using the tip of his wand to light it before taking a deep inhale. Turning his head he blew the smoke away from you both before meeting your eyes once more, a saccharine smile on his face. You rolled your eyes, “I’m serious, B. I can’t take you looking at me like that all bloody night, w’drive me insane.” His smile dropped instantly, shoulders slumping slightly, “M’just worried bout ya Birdie.”

Groaning you leaned your elbows on the bar, “What is there to worry about? This is the second safest place for me to be besides the manor.” Blaise took another long drag, smoke billowing from his mouth as he responded, “Physical safety is not the only thing to worry about, sweetheart. What you went through could break even the strongest of witches, and I know how bloody strong you are.” You walked round the bar, pulling out the seat next to him, “I really appreciate your concern, B, but I promise, I’m fine.” He gave you a look that told you he definitely did not believe you, but he wasn’t going to argue with you. Instead, he stubbed the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him, standing up and smoothing out his blazer.

“Think you’ll be able to manage the bar by yourself tonight?” You looked at him quizzically, “Is Enzo not working tonight? Was kind of hoping he’d be here. I miss bantering with him on bar nights.” Blaise gave a shake of his head, “On business tonight, the lot of them.” You raised an eyebrow in question and Blaise let out an annoyed huff, “I know you know who I mean, but just to be clear I do mean Enzo, Theo and Mattheo.” You nodded your head in thanks with a cheeky smile. You grabbed one of the rags from behind the bar, giving the top a final cleaning before the club was set to open, “Draco left in charge then?”

“Yes, I am. So that means no mucking about,” Draco was strolling up behind Blaise, giving you a playful glare with his words. You rolled your eyes, “And what if I do? Think we all know who’d win in a duel between you and I, Malfoy.” You gave your eyebrows a teasing wiggle. “I’d tell Mattheo, let him deal with you, obviously you listen to him,” there was a double meaning in his words by the smirk adorning his face. Blaise came to your rescue though, “So you’d be a rat, then?” Draco scoffed, “I’m not a rat, Zabini.” Your mouth upturned into a devilish smirk, “Ferrets are part of the rat family, aren't they?” Draco glowered at you, “Fuck you, Birdie. That was like twelve years ago!” You shrugged your shoulders, shouting back at him as he walked towards the office, “People don’t forget!”

Blaise helped you with the final bits of set up for the bar, taking on the responsibilities Enzo usually did, grabbing the kegs and setting them up, testing the taps, flipping down the rest of the chairs, etc. He reminded you again that he was there if you needed to talk about anything and you assured him that you’d be just fine, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Patrons started to file in per usual. A few of your regulars came up to the bar first, letting you know how much they missed you. You did as Mattheo had instructed and told them you had ‘been on vacation’ and ‘yes you had such a great time’ and ‘yes the south of France is so lovely’.

Surprisingly you were managing the bar alone pretty well. You weren’t sure if the regulars just missed you, or if you were just really getting into the work today as a means of a distraction. You may not have been completely honest with Blaise earlier. Yes, you were fine, relatively, but thoughts still creeped into your mind, still tried to sneak into your memory. Ever since Theo got hurt, you were pretty good at pushing all the bad aside. His getting injured really put into perspective how needed you were, how important you were to the family. Draco is a good healer, Narcissa taught him well. He was able to heal all of your wounds with minimal to no scarring, except for the one.

Your fingers traced the slightly raised skin just below your hip, your brain going back to what Draco had whispered to Mattheo after assessing the damage done to you when you were captured. “There’s no healing I can do to take that away from her”. You wished you could erase it, just obliviate it all without risk of losing everything. But you knew it wasn’t possible, you knew you had to be strong, had to push through it. And you were doing so, quite successfully if anyone had thought to ask you. You weren’t sure if the others would be proud or scared of how easily you could keep yourself distracted by mindless tasks and work behind the bar. Hell, you were even doing bar service, bringing drinks and bottles to different tables. If the boys could see you now.

The night was essentially moving flawlessly. The closer you got to closing, the more excited you got to tell Mattheo how well you did your first night back. You knew he was worried, they all were, but you were doing just fine. And that’s what you kept telling yourself. That you were just fine. That everything was going to be fine. And then you started to hear it. At first it was just like everything else in the background, something that was sort of going in one ear and out the other. But the rhythm caught your attention. The more you recognized it the more you felt your chest start to tighten. Each time you breathed out it seemed like you were getting less in with your next breath, like a python was wrapped around your chest and squeezing you.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, sweat beading along your neck and down your back. Your peripheral started to become blurry. Each flash of light from the stages had glimpses of Pansy dancing in front of you at the club in London. Your heart rate seemed like it was increasing quickly, each pump and rhythm like it was trying to beat right through your ribcage. You did your best to smile through it, to ignore every raging signal your body was giving you to walk away, find someplace quiet to calm down, to force yourself to forget. You were almost to the table anyway, one of the club’s most expensive bottles in your hand when the lights began flashing on the stage again, and then they flashed red.

Everything was moving so slowly but so quickly at the same time. You didn’t even notice the bottle slip from your grip until you heard the glass shatter on the ground. Mindless babbles and apologies were all fell from your mouth as you bent down to start picking up the pieces, not even realizing you were kneeling in the shards. You nearly jumped out of your skin when a pair of hands enveloped your shoulders. “Shh, luv, s’just me. It’s Blaise, c’mon. Come with me.” His hands gently but quickly lifted you under your arms, leading you towards the back hall and into the office. He led you to one of the bigger chairs, leaning down in front of you.

Your eyes darted around the room, internally knowing there was no real danger around you but not being able to slow your mind down enough to actually convince it that you were safe. Blaise locked his hands on either side of your face, forcing your eyes to meet his, “Birdie, look at me, luv, eyes on me. I’m gonna place my hand on your chest okay?” You nodded, eyes never leaving his. Blaise took one of your hands, placing it on his own chest in a similar manner. Blaise took a deep breath, a massive opposition to your short and shallow ones. “Just like me, Birdie, you can do it.” He took another long breath. You could feel the movement of his chest. The slow rise and fall, the fullness when he took a breath that fully filled his lungs and the small concave when he let it all the way out.

In a short while your breathing started to mimic Blaise’s. “I’m so sorry, B, I just…I don’t know what happened.” He shook his head, “Sweetheart, no. No, no, no, no, s’not your fault. Talk to me, tell me what happened. What’s going on in that brain of yours, hmm?” You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your hands. Blaise ducked down, forcing your eyes to meet his. A small frown formed on your lips, pulling at his heartstrings. “Once you get it out it’ll hold less power over you.” Your eyes shot to the ceiling, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. You let out another shaky breath before trying your best to explain the knots in your brain.

“I r-really thought it’d be fine. I just, when that song came on it was like…it was like I was there all over again. Flashbacks blurring my vision until I couldn’t focus and then I couldn’t breathe and I dropped the bottle and…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, B, I’m-”

Blaise immediately pulled you into a hug, you reciprocating and holding on to him tightly, not able to control the tears that started to fall. “Shh. It’s okay, Birdie. It’s okay. They’re gonna find him. You’re safe now. He can’t sneak in here or the manor and that’s the only two places you’re gonna be until he’s dead.” He held you until you calmed again, asking if you wanted to go home, promising he could find someone else to finish your shift.

You shook your head, telling him you wanted needed to finish it. If anything for your own pride. Blaise used his wand to clean the shards from your knees, you brain having blocked out the wound until it started to be worked on. With a simple wave of his wand the glass and wounds were gone, as was the physical pain. Afterwards, he went back to his booth, striking the song from all playlists and casting a spell to ban it from the establishment.

After the shift Blaise apparated with you back to the manor. You had assured him you were fine by then but he insisted you go together, even waiting at the bar while you finished cleaning the glasses. In the foyer, Blaise checked on you one last time. “I’m fine, B. Really. Thank you for…everything. Do you think we could, ya know, not tell Teo about it?” Blaise looked at you with a sorry excuse for a smile. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that meant.

“Birdie. My office. Now.” Mattheo’s voice seemed to reverberate off the marble floors. You glared at Blaise as you turned towards Mattheo. Not satisfied with your pace Mattheo’s voice boomed again, “Faster.” You moved quicker, Mattheo grabbing hold of your wrist and all but dragging you into his office until your arse hit the edge of his desk. As soon as the door to his office closed he turned to you. Walking up both hands cupped your face, brows furrowing, “I knew it was too soon.”

You shook your head, “No, no it wasn’t it was just-just an accident. I’ll be fine for another shift. I promise. Please don’t take it away from me, Matty. I need the distraction.” Mattheo frowned, thumb rubbing gently over the apple of your cheek, “You’re so strong, Princess. But don’t push yourself too far. It’s okay if you’re not like the rest of us. It’s okay that you still…feel things sometimes.” Using your fingertips you swiped the tears brimming your waterline. “M’fine. Really, Teo. But it’s sweet of you to check on me.”

Mattheo leaned in closer, his lips catching yours in a gentle kiss. His lips seemed to convey what he lacked in words, how much he truly loved and cared for you, how much he wanted to protect you. As he pulled away his thumb traced your bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it fall back into place. He placed his hands on either side of your face once more, “I have something to tell you, Princess, but…you’ve got to promise me you’ll stay calm.” You looked into his eyes, the usual onyx color lightened to a deep brown displaying how worried he was to tell you what was on his mind.

You grasped both of his wrists, thumb rubbing the inside at his pulse point. “You can tell me anything, Teo. You know that. Staying calm, I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure what you’d have to tell me that I would freak out about. Not unless you have Damiano locked under the house or something.” You punctuated the end of your statement with a half hearted laugh but the look on Mattheo’s face had it quickly dying on your lips. You felt your face drop, not even attempting to hide the reaction from him as you started speaking quickly, “Matty is he here? Is he here in the manor right now? I need to see him. Let me see him Teo, is he with Enzo? He’ll kill him, you promised not to kill him until I got to see him! Bring me down there, wherever he is, bring me down there right. Now!”

Mattheo grasped each arm tightly, gritting his teeth, “Birdie, you need to calm down. I won’t take you until you’re calm.” Your gaze never left his as you did your best to steady your breathing. Once Mattheo deemed it even and steady he slid his hands down your arms until his fingers locked with yours. “Enzo is with him now with strict instructions not to kill and Theo is there to make sure Enz doesn’t get carried away.” You nodded, assuring Mattheo you were calm and you were ready. In a whirl he apparated the two of you to a space you had never seen before.

You were still at the manor. You’d lived there long enough you could sense when you’d left the grounds and when you hadn’t. The room you were taken to was large, like a hidden room at the end of an underground tunnel or something. The room was made of brick, of which looked centuries old. There were dark colored stains that painted many parts of the room; walls, floors and ceiling. Each wall had a series of different chains and cuffs attached to them, what appeared like rust on nearly all of them.

To the average person it would all seem alarming, but you knew this is probably where Enzo did his best work. Your assumption is proved correct by the scene in the center of the room. Enzo essentially stopped whatever pain he was inflicting at the sound of your arrival, turning to the two of you and seemingly having a silent argument with Mattheo. His movement allowed you to get a full view of the center of the room. In a strong metal chair that was bolted to the ground sat Damiano, or at least you knew that’s who it was.

His face was nearly unrecognizable, one eye swollen shut and black. There were too many nicks and cuts on his face to count, each either red or bleeding. You assumed the shirt he arrived in was originally white but the top half was all scarlet. His ankles were chained to the chair, each wrist chained to the floor. There was little slack, but enough that the chains rattled when his head finally lifted and his good eye locked with yours. You walked closer to him, until you stood right in front of him. Before you even realized what was happening you reared your fist back before launching it forward, the crack of his already broken nose breaking more like music to your ears.

Before you could do it again a pair of arms were wrapped around you, pulling you back a few feet before setting you down. Setting you down was a mistake. In a flash your wand was in your hand, the word leaving your mouth with zero remorse, “Crucio.” Damiano’s head reared back, mouth agape as a blood curdling screech left his throat. The veins in his neck looked like they were near bursting, his arms contorting and straining against the chains on the floor. You broke the spell, the red light disappearing back into the tip of your wand.

Damiano lifted his head once more, making eye contact with you as he spoke, blood falling from lips with each word, “I’ve been wondering when you’d show up, Sunshine.” He licked his lips, the mix of saliva and blood shining against the muscle, “Glad to see our little rendezvous didn’t diminish that fire inside yo-”

“Sectumsempra,” through gritted teeth you landed another spell, lashes and cuts scattering his body. With another flick of your wrist the majority of the cuts were healed. Damiano gasped for breath, the three family members standing behind you all wore matching confused expressions before they heard you speak the curse again, blood flowing heavily from Damiano’s body before you healed the majority of them once more. Theo leaned closer to the two boys next to him, “What is she doing, why is she healing him after inflicting wounds.” Mattheo shook his head, but Enzo knew the answer. “She’s prolonging the torture.”

It was Enzo who eventually pulled you back, handing you over to Theo who held a hand to the back of your neck as you watched Enzo and Mattheo. You watched them continue Damiano’s torture. Watched him continue to bleed. Watched his body slump lower with each spell, each punch. Watched his head roll and muscles twitch and strain as he was hit with the cruciatus curse again, and again. When it seemed like he was finally spent you knew there was only one thing left to do.

“You started something you couldn’t finish, but now it’s finally over. I hope you enjoyed tonight, Damiano. Because it’s going to be your last. You watched as Mattheo took a few steps back, raising his wand and pointing it straight towards Damiano’s chest. Walking up you wrapped your hand around Mattheo’s forearm. His head turned, locking eyes with you, eyebrows raising. The look in your eyes seemed to convey everything you needed, Mattheo nodding. He lowered his wand, stepping back.

In his place is where you stood, hand now gripping your wand tighter than you ever had before. Raising your arm you position mirrored Mattheo’s earlier one, though for everyone in the room the view seemed to hold more intensity. Damiano’s head lulled, seemingly not having the ability to hold it up any longer. The hand that didn’t hold your wand lifted two fingers into the air, Damiano’s head mirroring the action, his swollen and bloodied face now facing yours. You took a deep breath, relishing in the moment you had waited for for the last year, the moment you had dreamt about, had yearned for whenever thinking about your past and what you endured. You spoke steady, and slowly. The calmness in your tone eliciting a chill up even Enzo’s spine.

“Avada Kedavra.”

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ghouljams · 11 months

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Omg I LOVE your konig!cowboy story, it's entertaining just how dumb bee is around this whole farm life, but what if she wasn't really that stupid? Like imagine konigs computer completely shuts down, and he's not the most tech literate but bee sees the problem and goes full city slicker tech bro mode and fixes it in no time, showing she is in fact competent, just not about her current life

Congratulations on unlocking Bee's expertise.

This is almost exactly what I had in mind when I was trying to figure out how she could just up and move and do wfh and generally have no clue how to own a farm. I think she's 100% a tech jockey of some kind, maybe a little bit of a hacker type. She's very smart but only about her areas of expertise.

König's laptop is open on the kitchen table when you drop by, the blue screen staring at you like an angel of death. You wince a little. You hope he wasn't working on anything important. You set your fabulously not failed cookies on his kitchen counter and pull out the chair in front of the computer.

"König, you mind if I poke around on your computer a little?" You call, straining to hear any movement before he pokes his head into the kitchen. He narrows his eyes at the computer for a moment, and damn you've never seen someone think so long about having their tech salvaged. "I won't check your browser history or anything if that's what you're worried about, just wanna get it running again."

König makes a noise of surprise and embarrassment. "I am not worried about that!" He sputters, which tells you he actually was worried about that. You shrug and flex your fingers a little. "Don't poke around too much." He relents, you grin, men are all the same.

"I'll stick to drivers and operating files only," he gives you a blank look, you press a few command keys to pull up your favorite little black box, "I'll just get it back to working."

You spend a few minutes manually filling in code and resetting the garbled muck that's filling your neighbor's computer. It's not too bad but he's got a nasty worm that seems to have been installed through a lousey torrent. You wipe the last few installs as best you can, calling König over to translate every so often. It's bad enough reworking an operating system in English, you're losing your mind trying to parse German files.

Eventually he finds a chair to sit next to you and watch. You pull your feet up onto the chair, your posture atrocious as you concentrate.

"I don't even know what half of this is," You grumble, staring at what looks like a matrix of some sort, a really sparse one.

"Which one is giving you trouble," König follows where you point on the screen, eyes narrowed against the brightness as he reads through named files, "Ah, this is security."

"Your place has security? We're in the middle of nowhere," You shoot him a look, he hums half agreeing, "I'll leave it."

"Braves Mädchen," he breathes, "you're very good at this."

"I hope so, can't exactly fall back on farming." You grumble, fingers working to finish your repairs to Königs frankly ancient laptop. This thing is going to be running marathons when you're done with it. Probably best to avoid any major changes to the OS though, König doesn't seem like he'd be willing to learn new shortcuts.

This is good though, you feel like you're paying him back for helping you out so much. Especially when you hit the button for the final restart and everything springs to life with a pleasant chime. You smile at your work, typing in König's shitty password to check that everything is working alright. You check the time, updating the clock to the correct time zone.

You stop, dread making your stomach roll. Is it really that late? "We were supposed to see a movie," You frown. König shoos your hands off the keyboard and shuts his laptop, it rings like a death bell on your ever present forgetfulness. "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize, and now we've missed it," König raises a hand to stop your apology.

"I don't mind," He's so sweet, his eyes smiling at you over his bandana, "I enjoyed watching you work, it was very... informative." You offer a hesitant smile, that's certainly one way to put it.

König watches you straighten up from your position over the computer, knees dropping from where you'd pulled them up by your chest as you arch your back to stretch out the kinks. The satisfied little noise you make at the quiet pop is going to bounce around his mind for a while yet. The same way your focused stare and the silent movement of your lips as you read will stick with him.

He would have asked you for help sooner, but there was too much about you on that laptop to be safe. Still, your discretion was a credit to your professionalism. Although your flagrant dismissal of what you must have thought were his porn habits was... telling. How many men have jumped to get their computer out of your hands?

"I better go home, gotta feed the critters and all." You stand, grabbing your bag from the floor, "Thanks for letting me fix your computer."

"Of course," König stands as well, walking with you to the door, "Danke Schön, hummelchen." He tells you quietly, holding the door above your head.

"Bitte schön, König," your pronunciation is hesitant, but still leaves him wide eyed staring down at you, "I Googled a few basics." You explain, as if that could be the reason for his silence.

"I see," König tries to keep his voice from sounding too tight, thinks he even succeeds at it, "Then, Gute Nacht."

"Gute Nacht!" You reply enthusiastically, giving a wave as you turn to leave. His fingers tighten on the door, grabbing something other than your throat. If you were going to speak his mother tongue so prettily, you should have at least warned him. Maybe then he wouldn't have to close the door half hard. You are going to be the death of him.

#cowboy!König #Bee very excited to have a fun movie night with her good friend and neighbor #könig coaching himself in the mirror that this isnt a date and he will not ruin this for Bee #oc: Bee #könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x oc #colonel könig #könig cod #cod x reader #x reader #cod mw2

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celestialprincesse · 3 months

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🎀💞

The Simon Riley equestrian demographic is unexpected but also thoroughly entertaining for me😋 Without further ado: More Simon and (multidisciplinary) equestrian gf

He sets up the jumps for her and gets nervous when she keeps telling him to put them higher, just kind of stands there looking incredulous.

When it's cold out he's all "The hell are you putting a carpet on the horse for?" And she's like 😐 "Because he'll get cold?????"

He doesn't get it but he likes the way her ass looks in jodhpurs and therefore is very very happy to help around the yard - occasionally tries to pull her into one of the stalls for a quickie and she's like "Simon?! The fuck?! It's nasty in there? N A S T Y."

She tries to explain dressage to him as she's stretching her horse and he just stands there nodding even though he's utterly perplexed at 'horse dancing'

Lowkey thinks she's majestic as fuck riding around on her fancy horse like some kind of medieval princess.

He shortens her stirrups and tightens her girth for her when she's too lazy.

Her horse just wants to be his friend, literally follows him around the training arena until she makes him wait past the gate to watch so that she can train without a distracted horse.

He watches her do a practise round and is actually so impressed with how easy she makes it look.

Obviously asks her why she doesn't ride him like that because he's just a man😔 Its ok tho because she chases him around with a crop and puts him on mucking out duty.

𝜗𝜚

Brain is like soup today and I can't ride atm so pls enjoy more niche Simon X equestrian because I'm yearning for my baby🥲 (Horse, not Simon) Although i'd be happy w both

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moumouton4 · 8 months

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Angry Sex || Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem!reader

A/n : Prompt 20 of the Smutember 2023 ( Hello as you can see I'm very late but school and my own health are keeping me away from writing as much as I'd want too. I'm so dizzy I had to come back from school today, though I still wanted / needed to write the end of this fic I started 5 days ago )

The list of prompts is HERE

Smutember 2023 Masterlist ⚜

Warnings : angry sex, biting, growling, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 1111

Despite what everyone may think, angry and rough sex wasn't really something he accustomed you with. In fact, Sanemi was quite the lever boy, always being sweet to you, as love making was for him a deep moment of intimacy in vulnerability. Though he was like everyone and sometimes things, even the more pointless, managed to get under his skin. And when he would get home let’s say that you better be off for the next few days, just saying.

Today wasn't like any other day. Your boyfriend, who usually didn’t have any problem getting the respect of his peers, got beaten up by a little boy. Some kind of newbie that came with his sister, a mucking demon. That he told you way after, in the morning the tension finally leaves his body. Because when he came home and you tried to ask him why his face was so bloody but he only wiped his face with the back of his hand and stared at you.

He looked pissed off but with something more adding to it. His pupils were dilated with something similar to lust but the anger was almost taking the upper hand.

“Sanemi are y-”

“Get over here” he growled to you, in a way that wasn't casually for him when he talked to you in the intimacy of your home.

You didn’t need anything more to be said. You walked towards him with a certain anticipation creeping in the back of your head. As soon as you stepped closer enough he literally snatched you like some wild beasts, with his muscular arm tightly wrapped around your waist. His face was so close to you. You could feel his hot and ragged breath fanning against your lips. Suddenly you fell the ground disappear under your feet as he hoisted you on his shoulder.

You were so entranced by his action, as he made his way to your room at a determined pace, that you didn’t hear him the first time. So he repeated himself “‘T’s not going to be like usual” he mumbled once again.

This time you heard and snapped your head towards his, trying to look at his face. But as you managed to finally catch a glimpse of his face he plumped you on the bed. From then, he didn’t waste any time in pouncing over to you to undress you. Of course he made sure you were consenting to continue. Once he himself undressed you couldn't tire your gaze away from his hardening member. Damn.

You still wondered how the fact of being angry could bring his body to react this way. You couldn't say though the thought of it and what you were seeing was enticing. He crawled on the bed, as he set himself between your legs. You could feel his hardness brush against your thigh. You could feel the heat emanating from his strong body.

Then you noticed that his gaze was drifting between your thigh, as if he was trying to gauge how aroused you were. He didn’t want you to hurt while he penetrated you even if he was in this state. He brought his fingers and gently stroked your clit as he pushed his hips forward to gauge the water. His swollen tip brushed against your slick folds, his mouth half opened as a growl escaped past his lips. You were so wet already and he just knew you were ready for him.

After a last quick glance at you, he let go of everything as he entered you with one quick thrust, bottoming out right away. That was now that he was going to let his emotions consume his every action. He almost immediately started pounding your tight warmth, your body suddenly pushed back into the soft mattress. Mattress he bought because well he was a bit worried to destroy your back in the fûton.

His calloused hands firmly held you in place as his hips worked deftly against yours to coax as much the pleasure out of you both. With a swift motion he grabbed your legs and threw them above his shoulders, his length plunging deeper and deeper with the new angle. If you were a moaning mess, he just couldn't help but groan loudly in your ear, as if trying to assess a certain domination. This day and unexpected encounter had a toll on his pride and he just wanted to make sure that he could still get the upper hand when he wanted to.

“S-Sanemi I-I’m going t-” you whimpered, barely able to talk because of the rapid pace he had set.

His head inched closer to the flesh of your shoulder as he spoke lowly “Give it all. Give me everything Y/n” and just like that his teeth sunk in your shoulder. There will definitely be a mark tomorrow. You moaned louder, your walls milking his cock just the way they should to push him over the edge. Each time he dragged his come out before slamming it back in, he could see it covered in your cream and gosh he was this close to pull out and go down on you if he wasn't at this close from painting your insides in white.

His rhythm got more assertive as he neared the edge. The pace got incredibly fast until he felt the knot in his stomach burst in a firework. His hips stuttered against yours, his mouth coming back to yours as if seeking comfort amongst everything that was happening. His balls tensed suddenly just before he started to fill you with his seed, marking as his once again. He clung to you as his body quivered like each time he had such an orgasm.

His hips, way more slowly now kept moving against yours as he emptied himself, until his softened length slided out of you by itself. Your breaths and tongues mingled in a heavy dance, between lust and exhaustion. After a moment he set his head against your breasts, aka the best pillow. His milky hair tickled your skin as he nuzzled against you, sighing contentedly. There he was, your post-orgasmic soft and cuddly Sanemi. His grip got looser as his fingers drew idly patterns on your skin.

“Thank you” he muttered, genuinely grateful for the intimacy you shared, even when he was like this.

“It was my pleasure” you breathed softly as your fingers combed through his hair, relaxing him even further “Whenever you’d like” you added, bringing a rare smile to his lips, as he nuzzled closer to you. He was so so so grateful to have you in his life and so did you.

#demon slayer #demon slayer imgine #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba imagine #kimetsu no yaiba smut #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa imagine #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi shinazugawa smut #sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #kny sanemi #kny sanemi smut #smut #smutember 2023 #miri-writes

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fermented-writers-block · 1 year

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Not gonna lie, with the Spot’s upcoming time mucking shenanigans as suggested by the flashes of the future in Miles’ vision, I would not be surprised if the dimensional collapsing theorized by Miguel to come from averting too many “Canon Events” will turn out to be a side effect of something the Spot will either do himself or set up to screw with Miles.

Particularly, with how much his origin monologue to Miles and Jeff centered around the idea that he made Spider-Man and vice versa, note how incredibly well that mentality would dovetail with Miguel and the Spider Society’s belief that the “Canon Events” are what made them Spider-Man.

@kindaorangey has a good post pointing out how the Spot’s mindset of “filling the hole with more holes” is a pretty apt metaphor for the way Miles, Gwen, and likely the other spider people diving into the identity of Spider-Man as a crutch for dealing with the isolation caused by said identity, but suffice to say, OP and @sir-adamus had these tags which I'd like to use as a jumping pad:

For this, we can analyze Miguel and Spot as two sides of the same coin, where Miguel’s side is about allowing canon events to play out through inaction, and Spot's side could potentially lead up to (as a side effect of his grudge against Miles) actively ensuring that only those canon events happen, with any deviations that don't fit into their views being cast aside.

The former position projects personal traumas as absolutely necessary and destined to happen onto others, the latter position rejects any possibility that things could go differently in a quite literal manner. But in the end, both ultimately are about "filling in the hole with more holes" and dictating what Miles "should" be like.

Miguel doesn’t think Miles is a real Spider-Man and that him becoming Spider-Man was a mistake that never should have happened, all from his obsessive mentality surrounding Canon Events. He and by extension the other Spider-Men stuck in their hole of guilt and fatalism, surrounding themselves with other Spider-Men stuck in their holes of trauma and grief to where they have formed an echo chamber that tells them Miles cannot save his father's life and that they cannot do anything to save people anymore.

And in the Spot's case, the metaphor already came from him, but it's all about obsessively centering his new, lonely existence around being not just A, but THE nemesis to Miles' Spider-Man. He lost everything and has nothing except his connection to Spider-Man. To fill that hole, he's not only only making himself a villain that Miles will actually respect. He's going to try his damnedest to make sure that Miles reaches his full potential as Spider-Man just like he talked about in Mumbattan, and fill the hole with more holes in Miles' life until Miles is devoid of everything except the Spot.

Given the flashes of future events in Miles’ vision, if and when the Spot inevitably hears about Miguel's theory of Canon Events, it would only be fitting if the Spot retroactively becomes responsible for all the previous dimensional destruction the Spider-Society dealt with. And thus, Miguel's theory obsession would be its own recursive creator.

A vicious cycle of telling themselves that things have to happen a certain way, of blaming uncontrollable circumstances on something they think they can and should control, and of refusing to let go of the spiral they've fallen into.

After all, Miles already had an Uncle Ben-type event and the Spot is trying to set up a Captain Stacy-type event. Since the logical conclusion to the themes of Miles choosing what kind of Spider-Man he wants to be and not allowing preventable tragedies to happen would be that Jeff lives, well…

It would only be narratively fitting for the Spot to try to set up a Gwen Stacy event later down the line.

Because if Miles being bit and the Spot getting caught up in the collider wasn't destiny, if the intersection of their lives was simply due to circumstances they had no control over, if the dimensional collapses weren't because preventing Canon Events is inherently destabilizing to reality in of itself, then Miguel and the Spot would have to look inwards and actually try to figure out how to fill the holes in their lives.

So Miguel tells himself that what he does has to be done, that only he is strong enough to do it, and that everyone should follow his lead and stop caring.

As for the Spot?

If he fails to kill Jeff and Gwen, and when it's proven to everyone else that Canon Events are not required lynchpins of reality like Gwen found, he might just decide to try to make them actual lynchpins across time and space.

Or at least, making it so that the only realities that can exist are ones where those events happen.

Aka trying to forcibly changing the multiverse so suffering huge tragedy becomes an inherently integral part of Spider-Man the concept, rather than a mere possibility. So many Spider-Men and their dimensions getting hurt in the crossfire, and all in the process of targeting Miles Morales specifically.

Truly, it would be quite resonant if and when the Spider-Society let and help Miles get to save his Captain and Gwen Stacy. Beating the Spot would no longer be about the concept of stopping a threat to the multiverse and their canon events, but about metaphorically ending the cycle of suffering and finding a way to move forwards beyond the guilt. They probably can’t actually change the past, but with this, they can fight to prevent it from happening to others.

#across the spiderverse #across the Spiderverse spoilers #atsv spoilers #spiderverse theory #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #gwen stacy #miles morales #the spot #spiderverse meta

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boxofbonesfic · 6 months

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Title: Brave [7 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: The pack regroups after the deadly assault in the pass.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse, Fighting, Monsters, Animal Death, Violence, Mildly described gore

A/N: thank you all forever and ever for bearing with me as i struggle through writer’s block! i’m afraid you all won’t be happy with the results of this chapter, but i hope you have enough faith in me to stick it out and see what happens. as always, reblogs and feedback of all kinds are appreciated and always welcome!

When Steve attempts to pull the reins from your trembling hands you hold on tightly, fighting him.

“Easy, Sweetmeat. Easy.”

The torchlight is warm and welcome in the gray mist, and by its light you can see the extent of the damage. Your hands are caked with blood and dirt, your nails raw and split. You raise a trembling hand to your chest and wince. There are wounds here too, matching claw marks like the ones you know now mark the space between your shoulder blades.

They stretch from the base of your throat down between your breasts, cut cleanly through the ragged fabric of your dress. softness. Steve repeats it as he looses them from your grip, peeling each of your fingers back gently, until you are forced to release the bloody leather from your trembling hands. The pass is far behind, now, lost somewhere in the mist, but you fear it still, your wide, terrified eyes searching the gloom. For the sun, for more nameless horrors—

In the dark angry sky, you find neither.

Perhaps it is morning, perhaps not—there is no sun by which to tell, no light peeking from behind the furious, roiling clouds.

Steve dismounts, landing beside the horse with a wet thud. You join him and grimace as you sink into the muck up to your calves. The ground is slick, thick with mud that sucks at your boots. The grass sea is pock marked with patches of lightning-scorched earth, patterning what little you can see in the gloomy twilight—some are bigger around than your father’s house. Above, thunder rumbles, and you watch massive bolts of lightning twist across the sky in a burning arc, lighting ablaze the distant hills where it strikes.

Would this path have been any better? You eye the storm’s path of destruction across the sea. No, you decide, watching again as lightning cuts through the dark sky. Where there is death, there will always be death.

Steve produces a torch from his gore-stained saddlebags. He lights it, holding it aloft. The firelight is warm and welcome in the gray mist, and by its light you can see the extent of the damage. Your hands are caked with blood and dirt, your nails raw and split. You raise a trembling hand to your chest and wince. There are wounds here too, matching claw marks like the ones you know now mark the space between your shoulder blades. They stretch from the base of your throat down between your breasts, cut cleanly through the ragged fabric of your dress.

“To me!” Steve bellows, the depth of his voice trembling in your chest. “To me!” Slowly, the pack begins to reform. Out of the darkness they come, circling the flame like lost moths. You are overcome with relief to see Carol among them. Beneath her, her steed trembles, the gash along its flank bleeding sluggishly.

So few. You cannot help but take stock of those who gather, dismounting their horses to stand before Steve. So few. The pack had been intimidatingly large before. Perhaps fifty, sixty riders strong—the ones who remain number less than forty. Steve knows it too, you can see it in the grim set of his jaw.

“Where is Bucky?” A murmur passes through the pack, but no one answers. For the first time, in Steve’s bright blue eyes, you see fear. You search for Bucky’s face amongst the survivors, your chest tightening as the realization dawns cold and clear—

You do not see him. After a long while, someone finally speaks.

“He fell.” Carol steps forward, her head low. You watch Steve’s entire body go taut. He shakes his head, his brows knitting together in angry disbelief.

“No.”

“I saw him.” She looks up, and her eyes are bright and wet. “He fell.” The wind whistles through the grass in the silence. “He fell.”

For a moment, Steve’s free hand rests upon the hilt of his sword, squeezing the pommel as if beset by foes a second time, but he releases it, clenching his fist. When he does speak, his voice is cold, devoid of anything but authority.

“Then we will light his way to our ancestors.” The light of the torch does not seem to reach his eyes, which are shrouded, and dark. “We will light the way for all of them.”

The fire is weak, at first, sputtering dangerously as you all feed it bundles of wet kindling. It catches, eventually, the light rain fizzling out as it meets the flames. Steve’s face is stone, dark and unchanging as he watches the flames grow tall.

You are no stranger to mourning, to grief. Those who remain surround the fire, and their sorrow is yours too. The pass had claimed many who were kind to you, who had accepted you—

Gone.

A young female Orc approaches the fire. Her face is bandaged roughly, and the edges of the long wound peek out on either side of the dressing. In one hand she holds a shield. Her hands are steady, but her voice trembles as she speaks.

“Arun.” She tosses the shield into the fire. “May—” Tears choke her for a moment, and she swallows roughly. “May you find your way.” Others approach the flames, some weeping, others stoic and distant, speaking the names of those they have lost into the fire.

“Jonai.”

“Huth.”

“Karali.”

So many, many names.

“May you find your way.”

You do not know the Orc traditions for mourning, but you know your own. You have lifted your voice in song for your mother’s memory more times than you can count, praying that the crows will carry the notes high into the heavens, to her ear so that she might know that you have not forgotten her. You have no name to add to the fire, but this—this you can do. So too will you mourn for the pack, for the ones who have fallen.

The words are slow to come at first, reluctant to leave your lips. It is not long, however, before they remember the familiar shape of these melodies; before they remember how to name your grief. So you do—you name it there, before the fire. You feed it your grief, like—and unlike—the rest of the pack. They gather behind you as you sing, bowing their heads. The song catches in your throat, the words faltering on your tongue at the sight of them.

“Finish it.” You turn back, and there is Steve, stood before the fire. He is close enough to touch it, a torn quiver held tightly in one hand. “Finish it and guide them home.” He tosses in the scrap of leather as you finish, his voice consumed almost entirely by the sound of crackling flames, and the last echoing notes of your own parting gift—

“Bucky.”

to be continued…

215 notes · View notes

egooppidum · 6 months

Text

Astarion at tiefling party (early access devnotes)

Never thought I'd be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I'm here...

(Reflecting. Holding a bottle of wine)

I hate it. This is awful.

(Swigs from the wine, but it tastes foul. He pulls a face in reaction to the wine, but 'I hate it. This is awful' is referring to the party generally. He sets the bottle down on a table beside him.)

True. That was fun.

(Wistful, maybe with a giggle) *killing goblins was fun

See what I mean? Awful.

(referring to the wine. The player's just been told that the wine tastes delicious, but to a vampire it still tastes like muck.)

By the Hells. Sex, my dear. A night of passion.

(Can't believe how nieve you are)

Nothing so dramatic. Just you and me and - well, maybe a little death? Figuratively speaking.

('little death' in the sense of 'orgasm')

It's easy for some, of course. You and [CompanionName] seem to be getting on very well.

(Stress 'very'. Slightly sulking/disinterested tone)

Do you think [CompanionName] would approve? I saw how he/she looked at you earlier.

(teasing the player for their interest in another character)

I don't know what his/her idea of a good time is, but it seems to involve you. I'd hate to intrude.

(pretending to be disinterested)

Ha! No, I've seen enough blades in my time.

('blades' - inuendo for dicks)

But you go ahead. Have fun.

(hint of bitterness, but only a hint)

What?

(Player said they might sleep with you if you say 'please'. You're thrown - you've never been in this position before.)

Please.

(Through gritted teeth.)

You insolent little-

(Annoyed, you've just been humiliated. 'You insolent little brat' is the full line.)

You are an insolent little pup, aren't you?

(They just told you they'd rather fuck a goblin. You're kind of amused, kind of angry.)

I'm flattered, but I think not. It's not you, you understand, it's me.

(pretending he's trying to reassure you)

Fine. Enjoy your night with whatever beast will have you.

(Trying to supress anger)

Do you mind? I'm very busy.

(He's not very busy.)

Are you now? Well, lucky him/her.

(Disappointed)

Thank you so much for telling me. Now please do piss off.

(Annoyed) *you told him you'll sleep with someone else

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate iii #astarion x tav

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mrsevans90 · 6 months

Text

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 2

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Word Count: 4,284

Warnings: Fluffy Sy, Abused animal, domestic violence, stalker ex-boyfriend, mention of nightmares/PTSD, smut in future chapters.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 1

I brought Mills with me to work and set him up in the shade while I completed the outdoor shed build. After the first few hours at home last night, he fully relaxed and I saw his personality come out which made me proud. He followed me all over the house this morning and since he hadn’t had any accidents inside I figured I wouldn’t push my luck and brought him with me. I also didn’t want him bothering Aika since she’s elderly and probably wants to sleep all day without being bothered. Mills really seemed to enjoy the car ride, especially when I rolled the window down half way for him to stick his head out.

I could barely concentrate on a damn thing at work all day, my thoughts radiating pure excitement about what was to come. Hopefully we both would be coming tonight, but if not I’m happy to take things as slow as she wants. I find myself wondering all about her and genuinely can’t wait to get to know her better. I’m shocked as hell she even agreed to come to my place tonight after meeting me all sweaty and nasty from work. The hours literally crawled and I was gonna punch Alex if he made one more comment about how “giddy” I looked. I pride myself on being able to stay stone faced as a military captain but Alex has known me our whole lives so he can read me a little better than most. I had let the steaks marinate in the fridge all day and was planning on cutting out at about 4:30 so I could grab her some flowers, get home and clean myself up before I started cooking. One of the best things about spending summers with my grandparents as a kid was that Nana taught me the basics of cooking. I would spend all day out on the ranch with PawPaw, and then he’d send me inside to help Nana shuck corn, snap peas, or whatever else she needed me to do. As a kid, I was more than happy to get a break from mucking horse stalls or repairing fences after being out in the heat all day, so I enjoyed coming back to the house and listening to the radio with Nana. I couldn’t cook anything super fancy but felt confident enough in creating a handful of meals so I could keep myself fed without constantly relying on takeout.

The doorbell rang as I was taking the dinner rolls out of the oven and Mills jumped up and ran to my feet after Aika grunted with disdain at the interruption of her nap. I knew it would take a bit before Mills got used to loud noises and new people. I took a deep breath and adjusted his new red collar with a bow tie included around his neck and headed to open the door. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the beauty in front of me. Emma was standing at the door wearing sandals and a stunning light blue sundress that matched her eyes while holding a cake tray and a pitcher of homemade sweet tea. Her long silky hair was in loose curls that cascaded around her breasts and her bright smile had my heart pounding in my chest. I let out a soft whistle through my teeth as I widened the door.

“Hey Sy.” She uttered with a nervous tremble.

“Damn darlin’, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She said with a blush tint to her cheeks.

“Let me take those for you.” I reached for the items in her hand.

“Thank you. I made some sweet tea and thought you might like some and a pound cake for dessert.”

“Two of my favorite things. Three if you count yourself.” I said with a smirk and she playfully rolled her eyes as she followed me inside and shut the door for me.

“Your house is absolutely beautiful, Austin.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Look at you, handsome! Aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?” She said in her baby voice while crouching to Mills who was dancing around her feet much to my surprise. I figured he’d still be weary but he must have he remembered her. Or he just knew that she was a good person. Mama always said to trust a dog’s instinct about people.

“Why thank you.” I said jokingly as I walked into the kitchen from the foyer.

“I was talking to this handsome fella, but you look cute too.” She followed me and smirked as she eyed me up and down in my tight “nice” grey t-shirt and jeans.

“Nothing compares to you, sweetheart.”

“You are so corny.” She says with a giggle and I can’t help but laugh too.

“Does that bother you?”

“No, it’s endearing.” She responds. “He looks like he feels much better and his bandages are fresh. Good job. Oh, this must be Aika.” She says while holding her hand out for Aika to sniff who slowly makes her way over to her. Since being out of the military and with her old age she feels comfortable and safe in our house and very rarely growls like she used to with new people. I think she feeds off of me and knows that if I’m not anxious, she can relax. Aika shoves her head into Emma’s hand who quickly begins to scratch her neck and ears while cooing at her. Aika immediately drops and rolls over for belly rubs and I’m genuinely shocked. She only acts like this with me and my grandparents. She has never shown her belly to a stranger before.

“Well I’ll be damned.” I mutter and Emma looks at me inquisitively while perched on her knees scratching all over Aika’s belly.

“She’s a former unofficial military dog. I found her in Afghanistan and trained her while I was stationed there. She has never shown her belly for scratches to anyone other than me and my grandparents.” I explain. She smiles brightly.

“Such a good girl! I’m honored. Maybe others just don’t have the right nails for good scratches.” She says while playfully showing me her manicured hands. Think about those little hands around your cock. Damn my intrusive thoughts.

“Don’t go stealing my dog with belly scratches now. I might have to start requesting belly scratches of my own if you keep that up. She’s drooling on the floor.” I chuckle as I point to Aika who seems to be on cloud nine as her tail wags slowly and her leg begins to kick from the pleasurable sensation.

“We’ll see about your own belly scratches if you’re a good boy.” She whispers and I feel the blood shoot right to my cock. FUCK. I’ve gotta think of something else.

“I know traditionally I’m supposed to show up at your doorstep with flowers, and I couldn’t really do that with dinner at my place but I got you some anyway.” I said as I handed her the sunflowers in a thin vase.

“They’re stunning. One of my favorite flowers! Thank you.” She quickly pressed a kiss to my cheek and I swear I felt like a nervous kid again.

“What are your favorites?” I ask so I’ll know for next time.

“Well, peonies are my favorite but they can be hard to find. Hydrangeas and sunflowers are my other favorites.” Hmm. I’ll need to look for a place that sells peonies.

“So, what’s for supper?” Y/N asks and pulls me from my thoughts.

“Salad, steak, potato wedges, green beans and a roll.” I point to each dish while scratching my neck a bit nervously. God, I hope she likes it.

“Mmmmm. That sounds delicious. Anything I can do to help?” The sound of her moan is burned into my brain for me to replay later.

“Why don’t you pour us some of that tea you brought while I plate the food.” I suggest and watch her turn and get started.

“How was work today?” I ask as I set her plate down in front of her.

“It was pretty good! Slower than yesterday. Someone brought in a cat that they had found hit on the side of the road and unfortunately it had already passed away which sucks. I tried everything but he was just too far gone.”

“Damn, I hate that. Didja find the owner?”

“No. It looked like a stray. No microchip or collar and wasn’t neutered. I just will never understand why people don’t get their animals fixed.”

“Neither will I. I hate to say it Mills, but enjoy your nuts while they last because as soon as your cleared for surgery we are getting those snipped. No baby mama drama for you. Sorry pal.” I say with a chuckle while looking at my new buddy with a nervous grin.

Emma giggles brightly at the face I made at him. “So, how was your day? I don’t think I even asked what you do for work.”

“I own my business, Syverson Contracting. That’s why I was so sweaty and gross when I brought Mills in yesterday. We’ve been working on remodeling a house and I was building a garden shed for the owners when I found him. I finished it up today but we’ve got a little more work to do inside the house.”

“Wow! I saw the sign for your company but didn’t put two and two together. That’s incredible. I can’t imagine how cranky I would be if I was out in this heat all day every day.”

“Eh, I’m used to it. This has nothing on the desert, although the humidity is a bitch. I don’t mind it too much. I like building things and working with my hands. Plus, the projects change enough that I don’t get bored which is nice.”

“I’m sure it’s rewarding to take something old and broken and essentially make it new.”

“Definitely. That’s the best part. I uh, I started here with this house. When I left the military, I loved the land but the house was falling apart. Figured I had nothing better to do so I’d do it myself and learn as I go. The plumbing was all busted and the roof had a ton of leaks. I essentially ripped it down to studs and rebuilt it.”

“Wait, I didn’t realize that! So, when I said it was stunning, it’s all because of you.” I smile at her astonishment.

“You flatter me. I appreciate it. Rebuildin' this house is what made me decide to start my company. I have zero interior design skills though so I know I need to change furniture and maybe get some art or something on the walls but I’m honestly clueless about all of that. Need me to build a bathroom or repair drywall, I’m your man though.” I chuckled.

“Well, I thought about doing interior design for a bit in college, but ultimately the animals won my heart. If you ever want help, I’d be happy to try.” Damn, she’s perfect.

“Darlin, you’re going to make me fall in love with you if you keep talking like that.” I wink at her.

“So corny.” She shakes her head and giggles and I just can’t help but laugh with her. I could listen to that sound over and over again.

We continue to talk throughout the meal where she asks me how I learned to cook and I explain all about my grandparents who own the farm near the country store off of county road 55. She tells me all about Alabama, how she went to the university on a cheerleading scholarship and I have to keep myself in check before my mind starts wondering if she’s still flexible. We talk just a bit about the military, finding Aika, and I can’t help but notice her squirm a bit when she finds out that I was the Captain for the special forces. After we finish eating, she stands up and cuts up the pound cake that she made from scratch. I groan as I take a bite of the dessert and she bites her lip as she watches me.

“Where do you think you’re going, darlin’?” I ask with cake still in my mouth as she gets up carrying our empty dinner plates and walks to the sink.

“You cooked, I’ll clean. It’s only fair.”

“No ma’am. You’re a guest. Put those down!” I say as I swallow my bite.

“No way, Jose.” She crosses her arms and cocks her hip out. “If you want me to leave the rest of that cake here with you, you’ll sit down and let me clean the dishes.” I grunt at her. Sassy little thing.

“I’ll let you load the dishwasher. Fair?”

“Fair, but I’m still handwashing these two pans.” Emma says as she sticks her tongue out at me and begins washing the pans.

“Woman, you are something else.” I smirk at her and ogle her body in that dress while she has her back turned towards me.

“Where’d you learn to bake like this?” I ask her pointing towards the cake as she dries of the pans with a dishtowel.

“My best friend and college roommate’s grandmother. She lived about an hour from our apartment and she would come visit about two times a month and stock our fridge with all sorts of things. She knew that pound cake was my favorite so she gave me the recipe even though it was only given to women in their family. She’s essentially my Nana too now. She has given me lots of recipes but that’s my favorite. I enjoy baking, it feels like less of a chore than regular cooking.” She says with a smile.

I lead her to the living room and offer her a beer which she accepts and we spend the next hour talking about our lives. She tells me a bit about her family, which consists of just her mom and dad. They still live in Alabama and she’d like them to move out this way but they're resistant to leave the comfort of familiarity. She was extremely close with her grandparents but they have all passed on as well. I explain how my dad took off when I was two and remarried and my mother raised me until she passed after battling breast cancer when I was a teenager. I told her about my older brother Mark who lives in Tennessee with his pregnant wife, Jenn, and my two-year-old niece, Lucy.

“So, you’re telling me you left everything and everyone you know back in Alabama just because you got the vet job here in our little town? I find that a bit hard to believe darlin’.”

“What’s so hard to believe? Maybe I just needed a change.”

“You sure you’re not running from something? Or someone?”

“Damn you for being so intuitive. I thought military men were just supposed to follow orders blindly and not think?” She deflects with a giggle and I know from her tone she’s just playing with me.

“You couldn’t be more wrong about that, sweetheart. Remember I’m a Captain. My whole job relied on me reading situations and people. I ain’t gonna to push you to tell me if you don’t want to, though.”

“It’s no big deal. Essentially, my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me. I caught him and learned it had been going on for several months before I found out. His name wasn’t on our apartment lease since he had moved in with me so I kicked him out and he wasn't happy about it. I had to get a restraining order when he showed up and broke in through the window after I had the locks changed. It was quite the talk of the town since his mistress is the assistant principal for the local elementary school. Ultimately, I just got tired of hearing the whispers and gossip while also feeling like I needed to watch my back. I needed a change of pace anyway so, here I am.”

“That fucker.” I muttered while shaking my head.

“Yup. Not the first time I’ve been cheated on either so I guess you could say that I don’t have the best track record with men.” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry he treated you that way. He fucked up and then had the audacity to break into your home? God, I hate dipshits like that.”

“I always felt super safe in that town before and now it just feels… tainted? I guess? Turns out, a little piece of paper doesn’t keep people away. In his case, it just pissed him off more. His uncle is on the police force there so he felt like he was untouchable.”

“He showed up again after the restraining order?” She nodded while looking at her hands.

“Did he… Damnit Emma I said I wasn’t going to ask and I certainly don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but did he touch you? Hurt you?”

“It’s in the past, Austin. I’m here and I’m safe now. No use dwelling on it. It could have been worse. I was lucky, honestly.”

“What do you mean you were lucky?” She sighed and fiddled with her fingers.

“He showed up after being served the restraining order when I was coming home from work and slapped me around a bit.. I tried to defend myself, and I did for the most part. Ultimately, he busted my lip, and shoved me into a wall outside of my apartment. My neighbor happened to be home, heard the screaming and called the cops. I didn’t have to go to the hospital or anything so I got lucky. Just wounded my ego a bit.” She shrugged like she was fine but I could tell she was still afraid.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s not lucky. You still got hurt. Come’re. Can I hug you?” She nodded and I pulled her to my lap and hugged her tightly.

“You are safe here. If you ever feel scared or anything, please tell me. I want to protect you.” She’s tense as I hold her and I hear her sigh.

“I’m not some damsel in distress, Austin. I’m fine. You don’t have to concern yourself with it. I left my problems in Alabama. I don't want to be the girl that everyone pities anymore.”

“I don’t have to do anything and you aren't someone I pity. I admire your strength and I want to concern myself with you. I really like you Emma. Like I can’t get you off of my mind. I ain’t trying to come on too strong and I know we just met but I want to get to know you in every way. The thought of you being scared to just go about your life makes me sick.”

Emma relaxed in my arms and buried her head in my neck as she tightened her arms around me. “I want that too. I mean, um, I like you too and want to get to know you better.”

“S'alright if I kiss you?” I normally wouldn’t ask but I don’t want her to startle her or make her uncomfortable.

She nods.

“Words sweetheart.”

“Kiss me.”

The words barely left her lips before I pressed mine against hers as my hand caressed her jaw. I felt her tongue swipe against my bottom lip asking for entry and I quickly granted it where she deepened the kiss. I groaned as her tongue stroked my own and I tasted her mouth. We kissed until we were both breathless and she pulled back before pressing her forehead against mine.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you apologize fer’a thing. You’re in control here, not me. This only goes as far as you want it to and believe me, I am more than happy just to sit here with you. Just looking at you and talking to you is all I need. I just want you to know that. I won’t pressure you now or ever.” I told her while looking into her eyes and she smiled.

“You’re too good to be true.” She whispered.

“Nah darlin’, I’m just decent person who values women and know that you don’t owe me a thing. I’m just enjoying being in your presence. That’s all I need from you. You decide the pace.”

She nods at me with a smile.

“I’m sorry that you’ve not been treated right before but I’m happy for the chance to do so.” I tell her while tucking her hair behind her ear. Emma leans down and kisses me again. We sit on the couch with Emma in my lap making out for a little while longer before Mills whines at the door to go outside.

“That is my que to get up and let you get back to your night.” Emma said quietly and I want to protest but she interrupts me. “I’ve got to be at work early in the morning anyway.” She stiffly climbs from my lap and I flush as I can’t exactly hide my raging boner but I quickly try and adjust myself so it’s not as noticeable.

“I sure wish you didn’t have to go. I really enjoyed tonight. Feelin' like I’ve barely scratched the surface at all the things I want to know about you.”

“Me too.” She shyly pecks my lips after I open the door and both of the dogs bound outside. I motion for her to step outside the back with me so I can keep an eye on Mills and I wrap my arm around her shoulder.

“It might be clingy as fuck to ask this, but I’m a grown man who is not interested in playing games. Can I see you again tomorrow darlin’? Unless you’ve got plans of course.” Emma curls against me and rests her head against my chest.

“Seeing as I only know like four people in this town, including you, I’ll have to see if I can pencil you in.” She smarts and I tickle her ribs.

“Little smartass.” I chuckle and she giggles back.

“What did you have in mind?” She asks.

“Dinner at the Italian restaurant in town?”

“Gia’s? It’s the best food I’ve had since I moved here. The owners must pity me after seeing how many times I’ve called for takeout from there just this month.”

“We can get something else if you’re tired of” Emma interrupts me.

“No! it’s so good! I’ve only ordered take out so I wouldn’t be the pitiful newbie that eats alone. I would love to go there with you, Austin.”

“It’s a date. Text me your address. What time ya want me to pick ya up?”

“5:30 still okay?”

“That’s perfect, angel.”

I whistle through my teeth for the dogs to come back in and Emma chuckles when Mills sees Aika coming straight back to me and clumsily attempts to follow her. We pet the dogs for a minute before Emma puts her shoes back on and grabs her purse. I grab her waist and gently press her up against the front door.

“Now, I’m gonna walk you to your car here in a second but I needed one more of these before we are in public.” I bend down to kiss her passionately as she wraps her arms around my neck. I gently pin her with my hips against the door as her nails lightly scrape across the back of my head and I grunt. After a few more seconds of kissing her, I slowly pull back.

“That may just be my new favorite thing, sugar.”

“You call me that and I immediately think of Mrs. Clayton’s yorkie.” She giggles.

“Nah, you’re much sweeter than that little yappy shit.” I say with a grin as I run my thumb across her cheekbone before pecking her lips again.

I carry the vase of sunflowers when I walk her out to her car and am surprised that it’s a nice almost new black jeep wrangler. I was too consumed with looking at her when she arrived to notice. She observes me looking at the SUV and smiles.

“Like it?”

“I thought veterinarian’s drove Audis and Mercedes.” I say and she rolls her eyes.

“Not this veterinarian. I love my Jeep. Driving around with my top off and the music blaring is a form of therapy for me.”

“I’m sorry, I think I had a stroke when you said “my top off” and didn’t hear anything else.” I joke.

She quickly pushes my arm. “You would only focus on that, pervert!” She giggles. I clutch my chest pretending to be hurt.

“Ouch, darlin’. You’re wounding me with the name calling.”

“You’ll survive.” She retorts with a wink.

“Let me know that you get home safely?” I ask and she nods before standing on her tiptoes to place one more chaste kiss to my lips before climbing in her jeep. Damn, I love seeing a little woman driving a big SUV and I can’t explain why. Just does something to me. Maybe it’s a size kink foreshadowing how much I’d like to see her little petite frame against my much larger one.

“See you tomorrow, Austin.”

“Looking forward to it, sugar.”

I walk back inside my house and for the first time since I renovated it, the house seems empty, like it’s missing something vital. Her. It’s missing her and the brightness I felt while she was here. Fuck, one date and she has me wrapped around her finger. She’s got me envisioning a future that I never thought I’d get to have.

Part 3

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal @kingliam2019 @syversonswife @identity2212 @starfirewildheart @hannah9921 @wa-ni @kneelforloki @cutedoxie

#henry cavill characters #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson #captain syverson smut #sand castle #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine

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just-some-random-blogger · 7 months

Text

Bright Eyes | 1

Part 2

Prince Aemond's marriage was borne out of necessity and political advantage. Let it never be said that he did not know duty, for duty was what kept Aemond Targaryen grounded. But in truth, the prince felt cheated by the match, for he felt his wife was getting scraps as her dowry. After all, she was chosen for him because of her family's wealth and resources. It was then rather scandalous when the icy prince became temperate to his bride.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, arranged marriage au, smut (virginity loss, vaginal penetration), reluctant lovers ig, typos, etc.

A/N: HIIII THIS IS PART OF THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON BIG BANG CELEBRATION 🎉🎉🎉 I split mine into 3 parts but I can only post the other 2 parts here on Tumblr after the whole event has ended to respect and give way for the other submissions. It will be available on AO3 to read though so yeah! Thank you so much to the love of my life @ewanmitchellcrumbs for making the art for me (and in such short notice too cos my artist unfortunately deactivated their Tumblr). I'm so luv youuuu Also i haven't written anything for hotd in a while so i don't remember who I'm supposed to tag so kejhshs surprise! And enjoy ig!!! HIHIHI

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa

"Perhaps," I extend a hand to him, "you ought to hold my hand."

Aemond straightens from where he stood, lone eye darting from his feet, to my hand, to my face. He finds offence in this offer, a line threatens to dig deep between his brows.

"The-" I trail off and look away, my gloved hand, however, does not retreat, "-terrain is quite bumpy." I look back to him expectantly, "I know the land well. It would be easier for me to lead you through-"

"Then lead me," Aemond cuts, both hands going behind him, "skip the fussing."

I purse my lips and watch him for a moment.

The wind strengthens. It blows past me yet I do not move with it, even with my thick dress pulling me back. In contrast, Aemond shuffles in his spot, his coat catching the gush of wind and his hair raking his skin. I had offered to braid Aemond's hair to keep it out of his face and he said he could manage because what was the breeze on a meadow compared to the ripping air at the back of a dragon?

He realizes meadow was too kind a term for this patch of land I was showing him. It was a hellscape, not lush or flowery like a meadow at all. The field stretched out to a cliff, and below it laid viscous waves that added to the horrible weather.

I nod and bring my hands to my skirts instead, "please watch your step. A few more paces, we'll reach the area that has many-"

Aemond grunts when he steps on a hidden divot. His heel digs into the mushy surface and he nearly twists his ankle.

I whip my head back and look at him, finally completing my thought, "-holes in the ground."

He clenches his jaw and yanks his foot out of the muck. I silently turn away and continue walking.

The prince mumbles to himself as he follows me.

Finally, I reach the top of the slope. I situate myself atop a rock and look down at the land. I clasp my hands together as I feel the man walk up beside me. I make it a point to really just let the silence simmer, to let him take in the view, though in truth, there really wasn't much of it. It was just-

"Dirt as far as the eye can see."

I turn to Aemond when he says this.

"How good," he purses his lips and brings his hands behind him, "I've always wanted a hill of dirt all for myself."

I slowly step down from the rock and lift my eyes up to my husband-to-be.

"Vhagar might even like it," he says, lone eye scrutinizing me then the land, which was part of my dowry.

It was the worst pickings from my family, that much was clear. But with my three older brothers set to inherit much of my house's estate, I couldn't really complain, after all, I was the youngest... and a woman.

Aemond, of course, would do the complaining, as he has been.

"I am glad to hear that, my prince," I offer a smile.

The look Aemond gives me is one of astonishment. I can practically make out how his covered eye widened underneath his eye patch. He mutters under his breath, "gods, she's fucking thick."

I pretend I don't hear it and follow after the man when he begins to walk away.

The long haired blonde struggles yet again against the uneven terrain. I no longer make the mistake of offering my assistance. For his sake, or perhaps my own, I leave a good distance between the two of us, so that if he were to topple, even if I did instinctively reach out to him again, he would be too far to reach.

I mirror his steps, right leg moving only after his did. Of course, I did not step in the holes and bumps that were so obvious to me. Still, I tail him diligently.

This was why I froze when he turned back and scowled at me.

"What are you doing?" asks the prince with furrowed brows.

I part my lips, "I-"

"Come here," he reaches out, "I have things to discuss with you."

My eyes turn to his extended hand. I look at his large, ruddy palm and feel my belly swirl in reaction. Apprehensively, I place my hand in his, and he rather discourteously snags me close to him. It nearly costs me my balance, but I'm glad it doesn't.

I watch as Aemond links our arms together before he walking off. My eyes dart from his bicep to his profile. I take in the shape of his nose and think about how our children would inherit it. I press my lips into a line at the thought.

"Our marriage is that of convenience," he turns to me, "and duty."

When Aemond does not continue, I tighten my lips together and nod.

He looks away and walks at a slower pace, "we are to be married in a few days time, and after that, you will no longer belong to your house, you will belong to mine," I notice how his expression hardens, "you will belong to me."

"I understand this," I retort.

He tilts his head, "do you?"

I nod, "I do," I tighten my grip on his arm, "my whole life I have been groomed to be the perfect wife. Once I am yours, everything that I am will be for you."

Aemond's face is blank when he looks at me, and yet I can tell he wishes me to clarify.

So I do, "I will be your wife, your princess, the lady of your house, the mother of your children. I am for you... and you for me."

"Mmm," he looks away and adjusts my grip on him. He loosens it, "yes."

For a moment, we both simply walk on the rocky ground.

Aemond draws a deep breath and turns his head to gaze upon the façade of what would be his castle after our marriage. It was a shabby little thing, run down and without servants, but it was situated in a strip of land that would prove to be beneficial if, say, war came.

"Your father is character," Aemond starts, "a rather ambitious man, wouldn't you agree?"

"He is," I chew my lip, "if he could, he'd take the stars and put them on his walls."

The prince hums, "do you share in his ambition?"

"I-"

He squeezes my arm. He throws a look, as if displeased that I would answer so quickly.

I raise my brows, retaining what I meant to answer, though saying it much slower than I would have, "I have no other ambition than to be a dutiful bride. My ambition is your ambition."

Aemond does not respond nor speak up until we make it back to the carriage.

There, both our mothers are waiting, both equally pleased by our return.

"There they are," my mother says with a smile, "I trust you enjoyed your stroll, my prince."

Aemond eyes my mother as he breaks away from me to walk over to his. Queen Alicent smiles at his son and brushes the hair that was flying to his face.

"The walk was too aggravating to be enjoyed. There was not a single patch of leveled ground," the prince say, "I doubt even sheep would enjoy it here."

I play off my agitation while my mother laughs, "you needn't worry about the ground being level, prince Aemond. You'll have peasants to do that for you."

I walk towards my mother when she reaches out to me. She smiles and takes my hand, "come, my daughter. Today will be your last day as my baby."

I lock gazes with Aemond as my mother kisses my temple.

I feel embarrassment creep up my cheeks.

The honest truth was, I don't remember what happened between that moment and when my husband was undoing the back of my dress. I vaguely remember the wedding, sharing dances with my brothers, with Aemond's brothers, with Helaena. I can recall King Viserys retiring early because of his headache, but then again, he did this often, so it could simply be a memory from another day.

All I know was that Aemond's fingers were hard, hot, and nimble. What would have taken me ages to take off my dress, he did so in a few seconds. I do my best not to breathe heavily, but even though I was not facing him, I couldn't seem to keep from heaving.

It was quite dark. The few candles that were lit did not really help in illuminating the room, but that did not make the idea of being naked in front of a man any easier for me.

My hammering heart commanded my eyes shut as the feverish dragon stripped me bare before him. I swear his touch burned my shivering skin as he slowly revealed my body to himself. I feel him brush his palms down my arms as he pulled my dress down my shoulders. Soon enough my entire body prickled as my shift dropped to my feet.

I cover my breasts with my arm and block my sex with my hand.

"Would you like to undress me, wife?" he mutters.

I feel the hair on the back of my neck raise when I feel his hot breath hit my skin. It was such a plainly worded question, yet it made me want to jump out of the window.

I slowly turn my head, opening my eyes to steal a look of him from over my shoulder. I don't know why, but I say, "yes."

The fact was I didn't. I didn't want to undress him. I would like to think it was quite apparent with how I slowly turned and apprehensively uncovered myself to be able to undress him.

I did not know why I was so shocked that he was unabashedly eyeing my body. I did not know why I was so shocked when his hands reached out to my waist, when his fingers pressed into my flesh, and his nails left marks on my skin. I let out a squeak and fidgeted with his shirt as he did so.

He only releases me when I pull his top off. I step out of my shift, bunched by my ankles, and walk closer to him to undo his breeches. I do not look at his face once, but I know he is still looking at me.

Once his ties were loose, I ghost my fingertips by his waistband, uncertain and hesitant of what to do next.

Recognizing this, he takes my wrists, but he freezes the next moment, clearly not expecting me to do what I did next.

I kissed him. I tilted my head and pressed my lips against his. It was chaste-- probably how I kissed him when we were proclaimed man and wife, but gods did it make my body burn.

I lick my lips after pulling away. I think about clutching his face, and so I do. I reach out to his cheeks and shift on my toes, leaning in for another peck.

I whimper when he pulls me flush against his chest. The contrast of my softer, colder body on his leaner, warmer one was something welcome. Apart from his hands tugging me close, it was like his very essence was drawing me into him.

We do not break our kiss even as he pushes me towards the bed, not even as I topple back and land on the mattress. There is a desperation in his kisses, as if the act of ending it would cause him harm.

He guides me underneath him. He parts my legs and makes room for himself between them. He rubs against me, and it is then I am reminded that I had failed to strip him fully naked. He immediately moves to remedy this, which is then when he pulls away.

When he does so, he rips at his trousers, hell-bent on freeing himself in as little time as possible.

Aemond gets on his knees and gracelessly pulls his remaining clothing off. It may have been dark but I could see him. I could see all of him now. It made my core pulse with excitement, dread, anticipation, and apprehension all at once.

I sigh when he sinks down and presses against me. He kisses me again and I feel his hardened length press against my belly.

I mold my body against him, curling myself in a way that fit snug with his form. I bring my thighs against his hips and feel encouraged when his hand squeeze and pull them closer to him.

He breaks our kiss to draw in a much needed breath and the haze that built in my mind grows thicker when Aemond begins to trail his lips down my jaw and neck. My nails find their way to his spine when he begins to buck his hips into me.

My skin prickles and my heart pounds when he whispers something into my ear. I did not know what he said, but I was certain it was High Valyrian. I was also somehow certain it had something to do with the way I felt.

Aemond hums and sinks his nose behind my ear. I whimper in response, arms tightening around him. I embrace him like I did not intend to let him go, and it truth, I really didn't.

"You make such pretty sounds for me."

I feel embarrassment creep up my cheeks. I am glad he does not see it.

I make another sound when I feel Aemond's hand trail between my thighs. We both hiss when his fingers find my sensitive center.

He pushes himself up on one arm and lifts his body. Aemond grabs himself and makes me yelp when he rubs his cock against my folds. It was then I realized how wet I've become.

He does this for a while. He coats himself with my dampness. He continues until I feel my body drip with sweat and arousal, until the arm keeping him up tires, and then I feel him slowly push into me.

When he does so, he sinks down and fits into me oh-so perfectly. The intrusion was not at all uncomfortable, in fact, it made my belly burn with need.

I find myself kissing the crook of his neck as he laid atop me. I feel him sigh in response.

"Please," I whisper, thighs rubbing against him, "I need more."

Aemond wastes no time in attending to my plea.

I mewl when he begins to thrust his hips. His movements are short and tight; he barely pulls out. He continues like this then changes pace when he grabs the back of my knees and pushes them close to my ribs. His movements grow bolder, more deliberate and harder.

He, himself, makes pretty sounds as he moves into me.

I feel sweat begin to build on my skin. I feel a pressure begins to tighten in me.

"Take my seed like a dutiful wife," he kisses my jaw, "I'll put a dragon in you."

My back arches, "Aemond."

"I wish to see you full of me," his one hand comes up to my breast and squeezes it, "I wish to fill you with me."

"P-please fill me," I respond with a shaky voice.

Aemond grunts, "I will."

My heart nearly stops when I feel burning pleasure break into me. My mouth releases the remaining air in my lungs as it calls out my husband's name.

Aemond makes gutteral noises as his movements grow rough and eventually stop.

I bury my face into his shoulder and catch my breath. Aemond follows suit but takes only a few breaths before lifting himself up and rolling off me.

He brings my legs together and covers my form with a blanket. I tense when he stands and walks off, feeling a panic come over me when he disappears. It only intensifies when he does not come back quickly.

I am about to sit up but then I freeze when I see him walk over to me. He is now clothed and had something in his hand.

"Clean yourself up," he places something on the bedside table, "you will not enjoy it when you wake," he turns to me, "I suggest you get dressed as well. You are rather cold."

I feel my body burn as Aemond walks off, circling the bed, coming under the sheets on his side.

I do as he says, slowly pushing the blanket off, feeling a chill run down my spine when my bare feel touch the cold ground. I stand and see that there was a wash basin on the table, as well as a towel.

I take in a deep breath and wipe myself down with warm water that was prepared for me. Once I was done, I examine the floor and pick up my shift. I put it on and put out the candles.

I climb into bed and do my best not to touch Aemond. My voice breaks when I call out, "good night."

He does not respond so I tell myself he was asleep. It takes a while for me to do the same.

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