#tldr i'm Hot Now

[waters-and-the-wilde]

okay so one of the fun and neat things about going on T and shifting into boy mode is. i'm hot now??

it's not that i've changed that much or was dealing with negative self-image stuff, like i was already the prettiest boy you've ever seen before i got on T. back in girl(?) mode i dodged the worst of the usual body image issues due to a confluence of factors, such as

a.) enough early messaging to the effect of 'hey trying to make girls be attractive all the time is kinda fucked up' and me going 'yeah! that is fucked up! fuck being pretty'

b.) just. extraordinary amounts of asexuality. and with that came the primary incentive to go 'oh fuck i don't want to be attractive. dear god get that away from me. engage the Somebody Else's Problem Fields to maximum capacity!!'

c.) 'but also hey i've got great hair and look dashing in a waistcoat, i just do it for me you know? i'm like if a vain creature spent a lot of time scrabbling about in a tree hollow'

like i felt like i looked fine as a girl(?) and i didn't want to deal with the social baggage of being pretty (TM) or hot (TM) and clearly all that took so much effort anyway so it was super easy to just. not. although I liked wearing fancy costumes so in a lot of ways it's easier to look back on like. girl formalwear moments and be like 'oh yeah. that's drag. i was in drag.' without getting hit with the dysphoria stick. and the moments i felt really good about myself, like, 'flirt with myself in the mirror' moments were. boy drag. but i wasn't going to call myself hot. (also probably an autism thing, bc The Neurotypicals and the CisHetAlloNormies love to take the things you say literally and contort them to fit their assumptions so i couldn't risk them conflating 'hot' with 'sexually available'.) i was 'allowed' to be hot when i was dressed as jack harkness but under all other circumstances i didn't want that and wasn't willing to risk being thought of in those terms. never mind nipping it in the bud i was gonna salt the earth first.

which, maybe was a little overkill, i've got a bit of a tendency there but tbh i'm incredibly grateful for how much that kept the background society noise from getting the worst of its hooks into me. like the rampant asexuality and baby's first genderqueer shenanigans did me so many favors for maintaining a neutral-to-positive outlook on my relationship with my body. especially when it came to keeping prospective attention at bay so any time someone actually tried to ask me out it was just like. reaction gif of those girls with the red cups at the party. how did you get past security.

didn't hurt that i didn't want to hang in the kind of environments that made a big deal about appearances slash recognized it's rude to be a dick about peoples' appearances, but also there was probably a certain amount of baseline white/able-bodied/skinny privilege that i wasn't really aware of at the time, and lately i've been suspecting that contributes to other people trying to reinforce their idea of my place in 'the girl club'. something something same coin as those standards that also exclude and deny cis women for not measuring up.

recent years it's been weird because it sort of hasn't mattered how obvious i think the transmasc cues are, how much i look in the mirror and go '!!! hell yeah look at that handsome little guy!' because it just wouldn't translate. there was just a lot of 'yes fine i know i know i kNoW what people see when they look at me. it is still weird to me but i have to maKe Allowances for our soCiAL coNText riGht?? just because i got sick of being low-effort nonbinary and decided I wanted a turn at the blue hair and pronouns thing doesn't mean that other people aren't stuck in their assumptions. yes i know who i am but i have to wear a little sign and point it out to people and most of the time they don't notice or remember and if i'm lucky they'll wring their hands and get all conCerNed about having oFfEnded me instead of telling me they don't think they should have to make the effort of trying.' and don't get me wrong i love meeting cishetnormies who are cool and onboard and supportive or just baseline chill about it, but there are a lot of them where there's this definite undercurrent of knowing they're just humoring you and it itches like a shirt with the bad textures.

anyway it's not as if i didn't know i built in a bunch of defensiveness around knowing I was being perceived female and trying to control for the implications of that. (it's been a perennial topic of household conversation bc sibling and sibling-in-crime are a bit more settled into their own flavors of genderqueer especially in terms of dealing with other peoples' perceptions and i've still been grappling with a lot of 'i need to look GAY i need to look QUEER i need to look LIKE A BOY I need to look COMPLETELY UNAVAILABLE. do NOT perceive me. ENGAGE 'SOMEBODY ELSE'S PROBLEM FIELD' to MAXIMUM CAPACITY. i am JUST SOME GUY. FUCK i dress like a 12-YEAR-OLD and people think i'm in HIGH SCHOOL but they STILL DON'T THINK I'M A BOY' 'buddy hey do you think maybe you're overthinking the way people perceive you and trying to accommodate for that instead of being yourself' 'I KNOW BUT HEY'

i think starting to working in a much more public retail job kind of threw it into sharp relief because before I wasn't doing that on purpose, i just got so used my Whole Deal just sort of automatically flying under the radar. and suddenly every day i'm having to deal with other peoples' assumptions. and every day i'm still kicking and yowling and biting because all i'm getting is other people trying to shove me into a box. they see a girl-shaped person and it doesn't matter about the collared button-down shirt and what's usually a boy's name on the apron, lol what's a pronoun button, she's young and skinny and cute and white and that's what the quirky young ladies do these days because androgyny is trendy right??

(do not get me started on how women are not allowed to age and how trans guys get infantilized and how i keep getting clocked as much younger than i am, what does a guy have to do to get treated like a goddamn grown-up ah fuck i gotta show up with healthy boundaries and self-respect probably because i'm not about to stop dressing like a twelve year old because i am fighting for my life to retain my youthful whimsy on this godforsaken bitch of an earth)

and then. not much changes but I change. six weeks on T and i'm like ugh nothing's happening it's fine it's fine it's gonna be gradual it's gonna take its own time. and then two weeks later, holy shit. the goddamn second i unlocked the slightest bit of facial hair and boom. 'not my fault you think i'm a girl. skill issue. oh shit i look GOOD'

they (the charming and helpful transmascs who make youtube videos) said T won't just up and fix your confidence issues, and yeah okay they're right because something something gotta find that in yourself or whatever, but also. they were right when they said it doesn't not fix your confidence issues.

now. sometimes it's even more fucking jarring when it's easier for me to forget that it still doesn't always translate. last week some middle-aged guy tried to ask me out while i was at work (it was a short and not ill-mannered interaction but pretty obviously 'area man has interacted with a Young Lady for five minutes and decided to go for it' way) and it was like. The FUCK? now?? like. sir. babygirl. you are not only barking up the wrong tree you are not even in a forest right now. this is in fact. a lumber department. 'you look lovely' my ass i am the grubbiest little dweeb you have ever seen and these aprons flatter nobody, not even me. who the fuck do you think you're trying to kid. also i'm a boy. no sparing your feelings no laughing it off no 'easy mistake to make' i hope you feel super awkward about this. not my fault you tried to pick up a grown-ass man with a mustache. i don't care if you were polite about it you're old enough to be my dad and this is my workplace. i am once again asking how the fuck did you get past security.

(work-life gender is totally a thing too. at work i am 'actually a boy but thanks', i'm they/he and uh him actually when people use 'her', i am just some guy, fuck you i am a grown-ass man stop telling me how to do my job boomer. and then i get to go home and be a creature and a weird little man (nonbinary) and i'm suddenly more comfortable in a bunch of the girl(?) shirts i had stopped wearing and i'm looking forward to approaching more of a queer guy flavor of femininity on my own time)

it's weird too in that materially very little has changed, like it's been all of four months, i sound like i'm getting over a cold and my face can do a new party trick. it's all still mine, it's just that maybe it feels a little bit more mine now.

anyway the point of all this was that. i couldn't be hot because i couldn't act like i was hot because i couldn't envision a version of events where people didn't make this my problem. and suddenly I'm Just Hot Now. because I Am. like it's just a fact now it's an immutable law of the universe. all those posts about 'i'm transgenedner and sexy' and i was like 'love that for you, couldn't be me tho' and now i'm transgedener and sexy. am I going to do anything about it?? god no. i'm gonna make this everybody else's problem.

(be funny if i had a slut era in an asexual way but one thing at a time perhaps)

#where the fuck are my gender tags #hehe #i'm a little man but i'm not ur only a man but i'm a little weird old man but really i'm not acutally ur man... #this got away from me #long post #heck is empty #and all the genders are here #i wrote this for me but y'all can read it too #there are so many Things like there are Layers #tldr i'm Hot Now

[b4kuch1n]

haha! bit ill

#bakuspeech #delete later #I definitely don't have a fever my forehead doesn't feel that hot (thermometer shows 38.6 degree c) well #this is a bit of a high fever for a cold I think. so I might be in for the A virus goin around rn #Ive headed it of when my throat started hurting so Im not coughing a lot #and the guideline says stay home until I get worried. and I made my own food today so Im not worried yet lol #but yeah tldr: sick. not a major chance of it getting worse but I'm keepin an eye on it #so uh. wont be talking much for the next week probably! not that I say a lot nowadays lmao #dont worry about me. I do miss drawing tho have to sit out of drawing yet again.... auuuu #cool story I'll tell u guys later. not now tho I gotta lay down probably #okay alright have a good night lads #we strong! we're strong! we chill n we'll get thru this

[citnamora]

Internalized aphobia is a bitch

#hot aro shit #platonormativity #aplatonic #loveless aro #aplspec #aplaro #in my case I've mostly resolved my internalized arophobia and acephobia. but my aplphobia? I'm getting through that character arc #for a long. LONG time. I have believed everyone should have a friend. as a treat basically. then I found the apl community #and it's making me rethink my perception of relationships. it's helping me feel better about my atypical approach to them #I'm incredibly grateful for the apl community and the loveless community specifically because they've helped broaden my mind a lot #I have this compulsory urge to give all of my characters friends. I've had it for decades now. it's challenging writing a character without #that urge. but it's not impossible. it will be incredibly rewarding when I correct my knee-jerk reaction to make him befriend everyone #tldr; I have internalized platonormativity that the apl community and the loveless community are helping me unlearn. it's hard

[ofsluts]

Anyways the hiatus is over and I am back

#i mean it's a process. i am so behind on two essays so until those are done it's gonna be slow asf #but i stopped taking my adhd meds so obviously i couldn't wait. #(i mean when has anyone in the history of adhd ever NOT jumped the gun?) #anyways i was gone due to depression... which turned out to be caused by my adhd meds #hence i am doing fine now and able end the hiatus for real this time #alas it also means unmedicated adhd lol #now i'm gonna watch scream (1996) for the first time (kind of) whilst going through some old posts and updating tags #and as we all know this can only end with me obsessing over billy loomis because 90s skeet ulrich is hot #which means i'm probably gonna 1. obsess over the franchise and/or 2. want horror plots #...i lost focus so now idk how to end this lol shit happens #TLDR: i'm back bitches so watch me start interacting with the dash again and slowly start to revamp the blog #ooc. #tmi/ #– out of character ˚.·

[ozzgin]

okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere nerd #yandere loser #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenarios #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #tw yandere #female reader #obsessive love

[bellflower-goat]

:]

#Man I'm tired and I can't sleep till the dryer's finished so guess I'll just talk a bit here #So turns out that we'll be reaching some very very cold temperatures tommorow and I know I'm dead #Cause they only cancel school in our levels if it's like - 3 and we're not at that level yet #Not even middle school will cancel em yet wich sucks so im helping out so the kids my mom works with won't freeze #Causedamn we are a fucking desert. We were handling very hot weather like 2months ago and a week ago it was still short-appropriate weather #But its fine. We've got so many blankets so I'm currently washing em. I'll take some with me so I don't freeze n i told everyone to bring #their softest pj's under their usual clothes to try n not freeze and I think we'll make it #It would be easier to just not go but this one teacher is a bit of a bitch and will make sure our grades suffer for not going #Just. Mannnn #But I do gotta say. We get very comfy and the vibe around sharing cookies coffee n hot cocoa while smothered in blankets is inmaculate #Some other people laughed at us when they saw us with blankets on monday but now everyone is bringing em #Likelisten ya wanna freeze in this damn place w no heating while you're writing so much important shit your hand feels numb then bmy guest #But my friends n i ain't cowards and #being seen as childish is the least of our problems so we WILL make a blanket fort while fighting for our lives in advanced calculus or #however that damn class is called #So TLDR; don't be a pussy. Bring your damn blankets n pj's to school nobody cares n if they do ya wont hear em cause they'll be too busy #freezing to death :]

[little-pondhead]

Thinking about if Dani ever gets added to the Villain Everlasting Trio au, like how would she fit in? Obviously the JL would have to figure out she's a clone and try and figure out why she exists ("maybe fenton is just that narcissistic?" flash asks, meanwhile batman is already texts agent a to get ready another room in addition to the three already prepared). Maybe she acts like the innocent kid in danger until heroes get close? batfamily trying to pspspsps her away from fenton? The trio collectively calling her their daughter?

I love this au so much, even if I still don't fully forgive you for making Tucker hot.

The way I SPRINTED to my computer.

Disclaimer: This particular AU has nothing to do with Fun Sized and Feral by @nutcase8691 or my Dani Fenton redesign from a while ago. This isn’t really important, but I thought the plot of this au might be straying the tiniest bit too close to the Feral AU (which I love btw) and I just didn’t want to cause confusion.

TLDR: Dani had to mature too quickly in their home world, so when she arrived in the DC universe, she finally got to slow down and be a kid. :)

Okay okay. Give me a moment. Since everyone is acting like the opposite of their usual self when they're playing villains, your question was, how would she fit in? To backtrack to this earlier post, I said that each of the trio's specific gimmicks somehow ties into their everyday lives. They looked at their immediate friends, family and acquaintances, picked out the traits they saw as 'villainous,' and then applied that to themselves.

Danny became a mad scientist because even though his parents love him through and through, they still hurt him the most. The threat of capture and dissection from the GIW didn't help, either. He wears a suit similar to his parents, pushes his hair up so he can see better, and his white lab coat looks a little like the GIW's suits. The suit is also red, which is the opposite of green, distancing himself further from his hero life as Phantom and connecting him more to his civilian self, where red is present on his shirt. He refuses to use his powers, as well.

Sam looks like an angel, which seems odd given her completely goth look and slightly pessimistic attitude. And if she uses her plant powers (shut up, she totally has them) as part of Team Phantom, then that rules out using them as a villain. They want to completely separate these alter-egos from each other. Well, one of the most significant sources of strife in Sam's personal life is her parents. In the show, they're seen constantly fighting with Sam, trying to mold her into their perfect daughter, when Sam is very obviously happy with how she is right now. So as a silent fuck you to her parents, Sam gets a hold of a Realm artifact, the halo, which gives her a pair of ghostly wings and the ability of flight. Now, she's the one in the air, and Sam is still doing what she does best, even as an angel. She tries to show the world that not all angels are perfect, and in fact, they can be downright monstrous. (This is where her more aggressive and destructive attitude comes in.)

As far as I'm aware, Tucker doesn't have any trauma related to his parents. (The lucky bastard.) He is the tech-nerd stereotype, however. And since he's from a cartoon from 2004, that means he gets bullied. A lot. The show focuses mainly on Danny, but you cannot tell me Tucker wasn't bullied like that, either. For the sake of the au, let's say Danny was taking all the beatings for Tucker. Maybe he was in canon; I can't remember. But not only is Tucker being physically bullied but so is his best friend. (Eventually lover!) And imagine his feelings when Team Phantom shows up to a ghost fight, and Tucker is absolutely useless the entire time. He just can't help at all. Danny and Sam are on the front lines, redirecting hits and doing damage control, and here he is, waiting for the Wi-Fi to catch up on his PDA. It eats him up. He wants to be helpful in more ways than one, and that's what the DC universe gives him. He takes another Realm artifact; this time, it's actually his by birthright, and the artifact drastically increases his physical power, just like he's always wanted. He learns Egyptian magic and dresses in a way that gives homage to his time in Egypt-which was traumatizing by itself, but hey, he has sweet beetle magic now.

Basically, Fenton, Manson, and Foley are all the results of the trio's frustrations and fears. They become the things they stress about the most to help cope with their everyday lives. The DC universe is their outlet.

So where does Dani fit in?

Well, Dani is a clone, as we know. Her creation and introduction to the world were rather sudden if you compare her to a typical baby. And that's what she is; a baby. Unless you jumped the timeline far into the future, Dani is barely a year old in canon (I think.) And after her team-up with Danny to defeat Vlad, she makes the decision to leave Amity and travels the world. She has to navigate an entire world independently, even if Danny wants to help her. So now, plop her in the DC verse. What's the opposite of an independent clone who's had to fend for herself from a very young age and has had almost no real familial bonds?

A kid. A scared, touched-starved child who's had no one to look after her for who knows how long. (Vlad doesn't count here.) Dani gets to the DC verse and cries because she and Danny can finally bond like she always wanted to. She doesn't have to put up a strong front because the trio is there to protect her. Dani is extremely young, and now she can finally be a kid. It's not mental age regression; instead, Dani no longer has to hold herself back from doing childish things or crying. Both are things that could be a danger when you're living on the streets. She spends almost all her time here now.

The Everlasting Trio had already missed her before, but they had just fully adopted her in this new world. Dani is their baby. Their little girl. She didn't ask to be born-she shouldn't have to suffer because it was unsafe at home. Well, they can make a new one, just for her, here in this universe. And look! There’s more clones for her to bond with! The GZ is more accessible than ever, and their commute between universes really isn’t that bad. They like it here! And the heroes and villains will never take her away, no matter how hard they try. Sure, Dani can have playdates with some of them, but she will wail and scream if anyone so much as suggests she stay the night without her parent's permission.

Oh, and she never stops being a little shit. If anyone doubts that Fenton and Dani are related, they are simply ushered online to see that one viral clip of Dani latching on to King Shark with her teeth and not letting go in the middle of a shopping plaza. The camera pans to the left a moment later, and the audience spots Fenton doing the exact same thing to John Constantine.

The first time the Justice League meets Dani, it's right after she got lost during a spacewalk with Danny and Sam. She enters the first place she sees, the Watchtower, and breaks down in front of Wonder Woman about how she can't find her parents and doesn't know how to get home. The heroes are baffled and try to comfort her until Danny comes barging in five minutes later, panicking over his baby girl missing. They reunite, the heroes are reeling, and Superman mentions he didn't think Fenton was old enough to have a kid.

Fenton looks up from his bear hug and goes: "Huh? Oh, no. I'm only seventeen. (work with me here) Dani is technically my clone, but we adopted her properly as soon as possible."

And now the League has two issues. Their most annoying enemy is only seventeen. And he has a clone.

What the f u c k.

Extra analysis: Dani's outfit is cleaner and a little fancier than what she wore in the show. She ties her hair up like Tucker and pins her bangs back like Sam. She already looks identical to Danny but likes to wear his sweaters, especially in cold weather. The oversized clothes remind her of her time with Danny in Amity Park, and helps hide her physique better, so it's hard to tell how old she is. She wears leggings to show that she no longer has to fight for her life every day on the streets. Now that the trio adopted her, she can relax and let someone else take the hits for a while. (We all know how fast leggings and tights can be ruined when doing literally anything.) Fright Knight gifts her a cursed doll that helps protect her in stressful situations and functions like an SOS beacon. JLD hates the bear. (She named it Strawbeary.)

She acts on her impulses more often, which the trio sees as a good thing. Even if that impulsive desire gets her in trouble, it gives everyone a chance to learn and grow as a family. Dani also refrains from going ghost at first, following her dad's wishes. Right now, she's just giving herself a break from her previous nomadic lifestyle. After a bit, she and Danny will bond over their halfa status, and she'll grow into her own unique core and powerset. The heroes dread the day the littlest Fenton decides to join her parents in their shenanigans.

#the way this post just derailed #you can tell I’m slowly losing my train of thought toward the end #i can never make a simple answer can I #listen I have FEELINGS #THEY NEED TO BE SHARED #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp crossover #dani fenton #dani phantom #supervillain danny au #villain!everlasting trio #which au tag are we using now #i don’t even know anymore #doodles from a pond #pondhead replies #does literally any of this make sense #or am I screaming to the void for no reason #it’s two am I’m gonna go eat an apple #🪱🪱🪱 #dpxdc

[levmada]

Hey how are you feeling?

Im glad your requests are still open. Loved the answer to my last request so I hope you don’t mind me sending in another one?

Some cute hurt/comfort with taller gn reader and postwar Levi. After the ackermanbond is gone I imagine Levi getting really sick for the very first time. Fever and everything also adding the flashbacks to when his mom got sick. And reader ofc nursing him back to health and also comforting him 🧡

im so so so so so so SO sorry😭i took literal months with this sari... i wish i had a good excuse, but i hope you like this :(

i took a lot of inspo from this eruri fic from ao3. stress cannn cause flu-like symptoms, and i wanted this to be the outcome of all those years of suffering for levi finally catching up to him.

probably not medically accurate: it's not very clear what the nature of levi's knee injury. it's seen partially crushed, but it's not clear what medical technology marley has (especially w/ the last volume cover in mind). i'm functioning on my idea that levi can't get around without a wheelchair, but he does have range of motion, partly based on the health of the cartilage/joints/bone, but mostly based how painful it is. it's more complicated than that, but i wanted to add a disclaimer anyway.

(tldr this is the levi torture hour)

➥ pairing: postwar!Levi x taller!gn!reader

➥ about: Not even Levi is invulnerable, both after the war and back then, so it's stupid to be scared when he gets sick.

Until it isn't.

➥ c/w: sick fic, post-war Levi, delirium/nightmares, reverse hurt comfort, implied past csa, happy ending (promise), medical inaccuracies, nightmares, established relationship (married)

➥ wc: 5.3k

In the comfortable, quiet rays of mid-morning, you hum to yourself, and sip your mug of tea. You watch a white cardinal with red tips toddle on the windowsill on the other side of the glass. That’s rare.

It takes off.

You trace the rim of your mug, sighing slowly but heavily through your nose. It’s getting harder not to think about it.

You want to think that—now that you and Levi are retired (what an odd word…)—it’s reached that natural time to start sleeping better. Sleeping in, not out of an absurdly rare indulgence, but to relax.

It’s been nine months, not counting the few Levi was cooped-up in the hospital.

Even for him, relaxation shouldn’t be impossible after some point. In fact, he hasn’t shot awake just before dawn for a while, anticipating a reveille that won’t ring out.

But you fought beside him; your bad habits and your happiness wrestle over the reality of your new life too.

But…

You reach across the small wood table and hover your hand over the cup of tea you poured for him; decent, but not piping hot and steaming like earlier.

This will be a once in a lifetime opportunity: you get to coax Levi out of bed late in the morning.

You stand, bringing your arms behind your head to stretch just a little as you walk to the hall, down to the bedroom. The door is cracked like you left it.

Like a tired waterfall, the vast majority of the thick covers lay spilled haphazardly to the floor, so you’re surprised even before you take a look at Levi, who’s still curled up asleep, facing your way. That leaves his back to the light glowing through the curtains.

He kicked them off?

Like the sheets, his sweater is white; his trousers are dark, loose and cut (with his knee brace on underneath). With his arms tightly crossed like that, and the harsh crease sitting on his brow, he almost looks awake and stressed out.

“G’morning, ‘Vi…”

Importantly, his pallor, normally as pale as snow, glows pink. A few strands of black cling to his forehead.

You stride over with a bit of a frown that wasn’t as deep when you were feeling just plain impatient, and take a sit on the edge of the bed.

“Are you feeling sick, baby…?”

That crease deepens. He twitches awake. "M-Mm?"

Now that you’re close, you notice his breathing is a little labored. You touch your knuckles to his temple. Eyes barely crack open.

"Sweetheart, ‘Vi… You definitely have a fever..."

You comb his bangs off his damp forehead, and they close.

The heat radiating off his skin—you grimace a little.

Actually... have you ever seen Levi so much as under the weather? You can’t even remember.

He shifts slightly, as your strokes rouse him.

"Do you feel sick?" you ask for the second time.

"Huh? I'm fine..."

His eyes finally blink open, fluttering once or twice. But then, a shadow passes over his face that seems to disprove that assertion of his.

He shoves his elbow underneath himself and starts to lift himself up. "Stop—fretting. 'm fine."

He gets most of the way; he’s resting heavily on one arm when he grunts, then leans.

"Stop, sweetheart," you huff, and take him by the shoulder. "What hurts? Your head?"

Looking dazed, like he’s not all there, he lifts his bad hand to his temple and, with his ring and little finger, feels his temple.

“Don’t know…”

"Lay back down, you clearly need some rest—even if this is rare for you, okay?"

“What?” He looks perturbed with you. “Don’t be stupid. There’s too much t’do. N’ I’m fine,” he grumbles, blatantly lying.

"Levi..." you warn.

"I'm just... tired," he mumbles. He rubs his eye with his thumb. "Fuck. Fucking tired."

His strength starts to evaporate as his eyes slip closed.

In an instant—before he collapses—you thrust your arms around him, and lay him back down on his side slowly.

It doesn’t quite hit you until you maneuver his arm out from under him, and listen to his even but labored breathing for a bit of time.

You stare down, eyes wide. Are you scared?—Or anxious?

Well either way—it’s not until you stopped being at risk for a violent death day-in and day-out for years that you even realized you were constantly anxious.

It’s not a nice feeling.

It’s okay. Though. You rationalize. Not even Levi is impervious to everything, and certainly not now. It’s stupid to be surprised.

You feel his forehead with the back of your hand one more time, and kiss your teeth. Definitely a fever, but an exact number wouldn’t hurt.

The thermometer and other simple medicines are shoved in one of the high kitchen cabinets, a second thought when you both moved into this quaint little cabin in the woods (aside from his prescriptions). You didn’t even say it out loud, even. 

Now pinched between your fingers, you stand back and stutter on your feet, unsure of what else you need. You want to need something more helpful, but the need to go and check back on him is most powerful. 

A short ways down the hall, you pick up on the unbelievable yet unmistakable sound of… crying. Unrestrained, and yet, the kind of crying that steals breath. 

You expect to wake up as soon as you reach the bedroom—some disturbing but absurd dream.

But you don’t. He’s curled up where you left him, eyes closed but now gasping sharply through his teeth with tears glistening on his cheeks. One drips off his trembling chin.

You drop onto the edge of the bed immediately, and try to speak, but find yourself helplessly stuck at a complete loss as to where to even start.

“Why…” You card your fingers through his hair, to no reaction. He must be asleep, right?—But how, why?

“Hey, hey, c’mere,” you coo gently, sitting so as to swaddle his back and caress his head.

You make it all not sound like a question. “Everything’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart… Wake up.”

His eyes tightly shut, and tears squeeze through. He croaks. “Can wake up.”

It takes a moment for you to register that he really meant to pronounce it as “can’t”.

“…You sound sorta freaked out, and you want to talk to Falco?—Is Levi alright??”

You silently curse Gabi for being so observant.

“Which place? I have the books, um, right here…!”

“No…” You swallow a little, and coil the bright red cord to the phone around and around your finger. You wish it was as simple as some tinnitus, or nerve pain. 

“No?” Gabi asks on a high lilt; a question within a question.

“I know. He never gets sick, which is why I want to talk to Falco. I appreciate you trying to help, but please hurry?”

“Oh yeah, okay!”

You peer over your shoulder from your place stood in the hall and rock on your heels nervously. The only space of time you could find where you could bear to leave him was when he was quiet.

Falco has matured so much, even over the past year, and you trust him with this. He’s training to be a doctor; being a soldier never suited him much anyway. Levi was the first to say so, as usual the perfect judge of character. 

You speak slowly and calmly to him, encouraged by his own composure.

“It sounds like a flu, just with that added symptom,” he’s thinking out loud. Thin pages turn. “Severe stress can cause flu-like symptoms sometimes… Especially when it’s prolonged. Does that sound like anything?” 

 “No. No way.” You shake your head, your brow pinched tightly. In fact you laugh. “Haven’t fought any Titans lately, at least.”

His voice lowers, thinking as he talks. “True, yeah. Especially for you guys, nothing could ever really compare, right?”

“You have no idea. Not with Levi.”

“We can talk about it another time, maybe,” you amend quickly. You know almost for certain that’s not going to happen.

Falco hums. “Anyway, if that’s the case, that would explain why it’s been so severe, with the sudden onset. But think of it like a fever he needs to sweat out,” he explains.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You hear the light smile in his voice. “Don’t be too far away, though. It’s easy to tell, you know.”

You smile to yourself.

Even if the Rumbling somehow started back up above your head, you’d rather die. 

You write on a little notepad—some scrawl verbatim—Falco’s directions and words of advice, the phone trapped between your ear and shoulder. Most of it is generic, for influenza of course, but you write. 

A blunt but dense thump sounds not so far away. You even flinch, but just as quickly let Falco know you’ll be right back.

In the bedroom, the pale blue duvet and sheets spilled onto the floor looks like a stiff waterfall being wrenched this way and that by Levi’s attempts to sit back up, like a puppet trying to pull its own strings. He grunts in what sounds like frustration, but you can’t know for sure as his bangs obscure his eyes. His hair all over is a downright wreck.

Gaping, you fall down beside him and hurry working off all the offending fabrics he’s twisted in. 

“Lee—…”

Your help lets his shaky hand hover over his knee, like he can’t be sure if it’s his. He’s breathing hard; it’s ten times shakier than his hand.

“Come here.”

He doesn’t so much as twitch, but he doesn’t resist either. Then, when something in him registers that you’re there, he leans into you like you’ve just brought the weight of the world off his shoulders. 

You tug the soft pantleg up, and sigh at what you see. The scarring, like a row of pink and purple mountains stabbed into his flesh, is more inflamed than usual, leg minutely trembling when you raise it.

He must’ve tried to stand up.

“Does it hurt very bad?”

Not even such an obvious question gets you a retort of any kind. He whines softly when you have to brace that area to lift him back up, but no more.

From the dull darkened blue cotton in the shape of a V in the center of his chest, and coming down from his underarms, he’s burning up; you need to get started just as soon as you’re finished with Falco. For now, you wipe his clammy temples and brush his bangs back. He’s looking at you, but he doesn’t seem to see.

“Levi…” You press on his round cheeks under your palms, grimacing at the heat pelting off his skin.

He moans softly, some relief softening his features. “Huh. Take m’jack-et. Yer cold.”

You shake your head even though he can’t see, as, sharply and without warning, tears appear and stab at your eyes. He’s not even wearing a jacket. 

“Be right back,” you manage. “Okay?”

You don’t really expect a response, and you don’t get one.

First thing’s first, he needs water. You feel stupid not thinking of that first. That was at the top of Falco’s directions. 

You catch Levi in a moment of relative quiet—not peace, but quiet—and cradle the back of his neck, unhinging his jaw with your other. Easy enough. You tip the glass and feed him water with the utmost care and precision. This is some act terribly intimate, a type of intimacy removed from hand-holding or sex entirely while managing to rank above them both. Over all these years, his life has been in your hands a few times, but feeding him pills—something for the fever and something for the pain—and working his shirt off for something fresh and loose-fitting feels more reverent even still. You put him in shorts and practically fortify his knee with a brace and pillows wrapped up with the belt of a housecoat so even if he rolls over, he won’t.

He chokes on a sob while you’re tucking a cold press behind his neck, forcing you to stop. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Levi?” you ask softly.

Either he’s having a nightmare, or he’s in pain, or, both. He tightens his crossed arms. His first movement in hours.

“What hurts? Falco said it might be your head.”

Another sob bursts from him. “S’head’s all over the wall, looked, it… sorry….”

He continues mumbling, but none of it sounds like words. 

"Levi, it's okay, it's okay. Okay, baby? S'okay," you murmur; on and on. The washcloth has gotten smushed between his shoulder and the pillow—you set that somewhere aside. Then you lean over, rubbing with your thumbs the tears off his glistening cheeks, and messy black strands off his forehead.

Sometimes you will catch a word, sometimes you won’t. You will almost wish you didn’t the times you do. Yet you feel sworn to make sense of every mumble, a pervasive, unbreakable, urge. You’re sworn to it.

That’s how the rest of the day goes. He’s never lucid enough to eat; only enough to mumble when he’s freezing, or when he’s burning.

After dusk has bled into the sunset, and night has set in, you sit and watch over Levi religiously. To be fair, you don’t have anything “better to do”, but you hardly ate. If he knew, he’d be in your ear grumbling or otherwise dragging you by it to the kitchen, but does it matter, when he can’t know?

No, you decided, with some fucked-up determination. You want him to bitch at you when he wakes up. Not shivering trapped in an uneasy sleep.

When it gets late, you, arduously but carefully, do what you can for his knee.. He moves too much.

You wipe his face and neck of sweat, and lay a fresh, ice-cold and wet folded washcloth on his forehead. The fever is slowly getting worse.

You dote on him, carding back his bangs, and murmuring and repeating all manners of comfort you can think of. It’s becoming obvious when he’s having a nightmare.

…Finally, as Falco suggested, you’ve kept him hydrated; fever reducers every few hours. 

All that's left to do then, is sleep. This realization makes you nauseous with worry.

Nonetheless, you squirm under the covers on your side, close beside him with your face tucked in his shoulder. You take a slow, deep breath. 

It’s so discomforting; Levi can’t fall asleep flat on his back, ever, and yet…

Your head shoots off his chest before you’ve registered you even woke up—gasping, and a guttural cry from below. It’s pitch black, too dark to see.

That explodes him into motion. He repels you backwards as you grapple for his shoulders, and like fists closed around your throat, as he resists your every attempt to stop him hurting himself, as he whimpers tiredly, as his bawling stabs the most tender place inside you—you feel sick.

“Levi—! Stop. Levi listen to me!”

You’re louder than him, but nothing—his eyes won't open—and your stomach swoops just then as he almost succeeds in jabbing his knee in your stomach, an extra hard punch combined with the brace. That cry is a sob of nothing but pain.

Enough. Finally you bite the bullet, you drop your full weight down on top of him, if it means he’ll finally stop. 

At first, you’re as steady as a boat on rough waters. A huff of relief slips out when his writhing grows sluggish, quickly.

He squirms mildly under you, breathing still stubbornly labored. “Get… off me.”

He tries to raise his arms from his sides, but can’t. 

“I’ll, fuckin’ kill you.”

You viciously shake your head. “It’s just a dream.”

Are you telling only him that?

“S’ get off, you can’t, s’nough hurts ‘er.”

“L-Lee…”

You strain to make him out, as he sobs weakly. “Leave me alone already...”

His name escapes you over again like a prayer in the heat of a battle. Your determination crumbles right into dust; you fall beside him and sit up, unsure of what to do besides take his hand. You can’t bring yourself to switch on the lamp.

“It’s going to be okay.” You squeeze.

He whimpers. “…Please.”

You can’t open your foolish mouth and tell him or yourself that it’s just a dream anymore.

Falco was more correct than you gave him credit for.

Falco also warned you that it would get worse before it got better.

With the hours that keep passing—which have stretched out into two days so far—he more and more mutters in his sleep, other times under his breath, but most times he’s incoherent.

But, it’s all come to fall under one topic. 

And just like that first night, it doesn’t quite make sense, but it doesn’t have to. 

You don’t want to think about it; you just want to take care of him. Your anxiety is constant, and sharp. If only he’d wake up; you talk to him as if he’s awake—but to no response whatsoever, like you don’t even exist.

Moments you’re forced to leave him are the worst—for you and for him. Most times when you come back, the washcloth meant to rest on his forehead has drooped and sagged beside his temple.

At any rate, the difference between fever and tears has gotten hard to tell.

You just can’t stop from shaking, and your throat is tight, but Falco remains adamant that the flu is what he said it is. 

A lamp is still glowing on your side in the late night. The air is cool, and it’s quiet, but a rare moment of “peace” makes the sounds of your shared breaths obnoxious.

Your heavy eyes sting; despite that, when they creep closed you feel yourself fading in seconds, with Levi’s head tucked under your chin, upon your chest. Seemingly, any covers are too stifling for him at the moment; pressed against your collarbones, you feel his forehead is hot again. 

You cradle gently the nape of his neck, idly rubbing the knot of bone at the base of his jaw. As if you’re doing anything to protect him from anything…

He mumbles, slurring, “Y’have t’come back…”

You’re not dizzy with the shock or the horror, but it’s worse almost, to be confronted with the full magnitude of a rueless, unceasing pain that is just as lonely in its magnitude as it is devastating.

You rub his back as he buries his face in your neck, sobbing like it takes all his energy to do so. “I’ll be faster.”

“I don’ know where t’go, what do I do now?” he babbles over your soft hushes. “Wait, next time I’ll get it right...”

“It’s okay, love, it’s okay.”

“I don’ know why I even…” 

Trailing off, he starts to whimper, and can’t go on. 

He doesn’t stop, it doesn’t, not for a second while—all you can do—is hold and console him even though he may not know it.

Until he exhausts himself. Drifts. into a light sleep.

For it to happen all over again. Seeping into his sleep like crude oil, the next stress-induced terror to force his breathing shaky, labored.

"...Need," he whimpers, the first word you’ve made out in a while.

Your stomach swoops, the thought that you can do anything to help directly. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

"Don't sell it. Don't sell it, I need it."

You deflate, jaw wobbling. "Sh, sh, it's okay,” you soothe. You reach for the tray on the bedside behind you, and, using the cold cloth, you dab the sweat from his blushing temple and neck.

"S'gonna take away from m...me." He starts to pant, continuing to mumble, crying, a complete melting away. Lamenting, abject.

"Shh... Shh..."

His arm loosely draped around your waist—which you’d put there—tightens its hold, but in drifting bursts, like he keeps slipping.

“Please.”

You inhale sharply. "Please?"

"Don'. Leave me."

"I won't leave," you swiftly promise. "I won't leave, I won’t.”

He cries in his sleep for so many names that aren’t alive anymore.

Don’t go. Don’t go.

Wake up, Momma.

Wait... Just wait.

That wasn’t the worst point. Not even hunched, taken-over by so much stress and pain until he gagged was the worst point. None of what he had already said combined could amount to the last night.

You snap awake on your stomach at some blurry unknown instance, acutely aware you’ve slept like shit.

Did you even, only blink?—No. The most faintest shade of grey weakly gives your bedroom the suggestion of texture and shadow, but—your arms are empty. You reach over blindly, but the side where Levi should lay is empty and cold.

A pit bursts open in your stomach, filled with bright panic. 

You lurch up and shove off the covers, breathing hard. 

Where could he be??

If he was feeling better, then you would've woken up a while ago, because he would've told you. Not just... 

He can’t be far.

You shiver. 

On your feet, you cross the room in a few strides, and frown as you pull open the bedroom door. It's never left closed at night this time of year; it gets about ten degrees colder without the insulation. (But the chill pressing to the bottoms of your feet, you barely even noticed.)

"Levi!?"

The switch on the wall is right within reach, which lights up the hall. You look right and almost jump back; you might’ve tripped over him if you hadn’t looked first.

He sits hugging his legs—tightly folded against his chest, Levi, why?—there right outside the white doorframe. Shivering, glossy face red with fever, and most certainly in agony by now with all the abuse done to his knee, you’re not sure if he even notices you. Not from this angle.

You fall down on your knees. “Levi? Look, I’m here. Talk to me, please, okay?”

His bloodshot eyes are cracked open, staring ahead, but seemingly seeing nothing. Between the tears, you can’t tell if this is good or bad. 

"Levi..." You take his shoulder in an attempt to nudge his attention towards you. “Look at me. Please.”

He was already tense. His head turns, mostly looking at you sideways—emphasis on his pale eye—but looking at you nonetheless. Good.

"What's wrong?"

His brow knits together.

“C’mere.” You lean forward and card his damp bangs back to feel his forehead. The whole time, he just looks at you passively.

“Better... But this cold won’t help in the end. Medicine is in the bedroom, so...”

You huff very softly to yourself. “…You need more bedrest. I don’t know why you even came out here. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He blinks.

“Let’s go back to bed,” you insist then, under your breath. 

Some clarity crosses his dark eyes, his voice then a cracked brittle rasp.  “…Not the bed.” 

His gaze sort of drifts away from you. 

You thought he was through with that habit. Confused, you ask, “Why not?”

“It’s ruined. It was always disgusting, but… this is worse.”

“I’ll change the sheets then. I know, it’s not—”

“You can’t do anything,” he says, tucking his chin to his chest, intent eyes focused somewhere down. “Corpse smell doesn’t come outta anything, it just smells worse the longer you leave it. It gets colder n’ heavier, then the smell, it attracts bugs. There’s a fluid,” he says quietly. Casually. “And then it shrinks. Getting eaten’s all the same. But I think that way’s worse.”

What can you even say to that?

“I won’t do th-at to you…” His brow furrows sharply, gripping his sleeves—you see now—with bright white knuckles. Even sitting up, he’s almost curled up into a ball.

You talk quickly, before the full gravity of all this can reach you. 

“You won’t do anything,” you insist. “How about the sofa? Would the sofa be okay?”

“I can’ go to sleep,” he hisses. “I won’t wake up.”

“That’s not true. Why do you even say that??"

"I'm sick."

"Yeah, but it’s not bad-sick!”

You regret the moment you raise your voice. That almost innocent passivity he exuded is crushed by complete and utter detachment. 

“…Denial doesn't help. Don’t be stupid. Don't even—shouldn’ touch me. It’ll end worse fer you.”

You tremble minutely, stewing in silence while in panicked, rapid-fire fashion, you rifle through explanations. He sounds so serious. And he's nothing but.

You know that Levi’s mother died from sickness. He’s called out for her, a lot.

In nightmares… A nightmare?

You guess that’s where it all started for him, as he always slips into a warm voice and delicate eyes those rare moments he does tell you about her. Being sick then, being sick with you here… It all clicks into place.

Okay. Fuck…

The real monster of it all is the fever—making him unglued like this.

You rub the bridge of your nose, swallowing thickly. Okay. 

A firm calm settles over you; for once, Levi is scared. That means you won’t be.

“Levi…” you console.

You reach out to his shoulder, only to flinch when he flinches before a push knocks into your chest. It sends you falling into your backside with an injured grunt.

Instantly, intrinsically, you know it’s going to bruise; all his strength, one hand.

Your eyes pop open to his own—uncannily—wide with his lips twisting into a grimace. 

Putting his eyes ahead again, he sucks in a choked breath and slumps. “Sorry, I thought you were… Sorry.” He gasps. “I’m sorry.”

You get back up on your knees, slowly, and settle down beside him without hesitation. You’re more frantic than ever to close this icy chasm-like space.

“It’s okay.”

He shakes his head as sharp and as fast as his rattling breaths. “I thought you were him. I don’t get it… it just kept hap-happening… Fucking…”

You see him still searching for the words to explain.

“It’s okay. It’s all okay.” 

The warmth in your voice is genuine. When it shakes, you just hate that he’s suffering with nothing you can do to lift it all away, like blood by steam. 

He grips his hair, having made himself as small as possible again. “I’m—s-sorry.”

“Shh…”

Slowly until now, you’ve been leaning in, and now you firmly rest your hand on his back, rubbing in long, consoling motions. This seems to help.

You stay like this while his breathing shudders through tears. It’ll only hurt you both to bring force into it again; either way, any way, it’s not his fault. You don’t know what he meant… but why would it be the man who came and chose to look after him?

“Sorry…”

Everything you see if one ruddy cheek and his temple glistens with either tears or sweat, and his eyes look painful.

“Look at me. Baby.”

An order seems familiar. He does.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

He understands slowly, but you know the answer. After a time, he blinks, and nods.

“Stay still, please.” You kiss his temple. 

“…Sure.”

One arm around his back, the other scooped under his knees, you lift him up into your arms with not too much difficulty. He goes tense, but leans into your chest nonetheless.

“It’s going to be okay,” you murmur as you walk. You want desperately to ask about his leg, but this feels too fragile, like if you bring up physical pain then the whims of the fever will take him back over. 

He’s trembling all over, it seems, before you lay him back down in bed, and once you do he clutches a bit of your blouse at the collar with a grip that confirms for you that he’s not letting go. You sit beside him with his waist pushed against the side of your thigh.

“I’m sorry, it’s all my fault,” he croaks out softly, staring at your sleeve which he now grips. “I wasn’t fast ‘nuff. I hesitated n’ it got ‘em killed for nothing after made the same mistake… Sorry i-was my damn pride…”

You let him talk, rather mumble. When there’s a lull, you rest your palms on his hot cheeks. Better than the last time you felt them. His eyes instantly flutter in relief.

It’s surprisingly easy to give him water, then the fever reducer. Meanwhile, he’s clearly fighting the weight of exhaustion pressing down on his eyelids.

“Don’t make me sleep…”

“I’m not. I’ll just stay by your side. Then”—you cup his cheek—“I’ll do it again.”

He hardly grunts, eyes closing.

You won’t sleep, and you can’t sleep (if there’s even a difference). In fact, you’ll bring in one of the kitchen chairs and sit by him with a novel; you’ll read by candlelight, with a handkerchief hanging like a tarp from the lampshade so maybe he can rest easy.

Being that the flu is a release of stress… He’s getting better. He’s getting better.

Hour-by-hour, more or less (but mostly less), you snap awake at the tiniest stirring from your husband beside you. Maybe mumbling a ghostly snatch of a word; mostly sniffling. It takes you half an hour to drift off again.

This unforgiving cycle obnoxiously persists until morning sunlight poking your sleeping mind wakes you. Suddenly, again. You see him.

It’s a mystery, how long, but Levi is gazing at you softly with bloodshot, but, maybe aware eye. You feel better when he glances away, like every time—if, not when—you catch him staring. Your legs are tangled slightly, his slow breaths brush your cheek.

"Baby," you murmur. "You’re awake?”

He looks annoyed. “No, I’m sleeping with my eyes open.”

“How do you feel? Be honest," you quickly add. You drape your arm around his waist.

He frowns at your tone. "...Like my head got hit with a sledgehammer.”

You say nothing.

His voice gets softer and gentler. “I don’t remember… And you look like shit. What happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“…So I’m going to be wrong,” he surmises, looking away. “I slept in too late.” 

He goes to rub his eye, and sniffs. The distress marring his expression grows. 

“It’s been a couple days, but it’s alright,” you say. You’re quick to explain as the realization seems to come over Levi that he hasn’t had a proper bath in that length of time.

Though, it’s hard to explain. It’s even harder to wrap your mind around the fact that he doesn’t remember how he’d cried, and—insinuated, what he did. What horrors he spoke of. 

You finish. Behind a thinly-veiled straight face, he stares into your eyes with the quiet accusation that you haven’t told the whole story. 

“It… was… bad,” you bear to admit. “That’s why I look like shit.”

The self-loathing that falls over his expression like a deathly shroud is instant. He looks away, glaring at nothing, but before he can think anything, you squirm much closer, tighten your hold, and kiss his chin.

“It’s not your fault. And if I had to, I’d do it all over again. So don’t start.”

He watches you for a beat, as if searching for some exaggeration, but soon looks resigned to the truth in your vow. At this long-awaited point in your lives, with some legwork to say the least, you’re relieved to know you’ve finally got it beaten into his head that you love him, whether he agrees or not.

You watch him swallow, and many emotions cross his eyes as he mulls your words over. 

“I don’t like that it’s just a flash for me,” he resolves.

“I know. But we can… talk about it?”

Honestly you’re shocked the words left your mouth. Levi also stares at you like you just spoke a foreign language. It’s pathetic, as he would say, sure, but—people like you and him don’t just talk about things like that which fueled those nightmares of his.

He looks away, considering. Finally, he brings hand up to yours, nestled deep under the covers. Your fingers clasp gently, foreheads brushing. His silvery blue eyes calmly watch yours. That’s his answer.

It’s so different, and not so comfortable right now, but you believe, now, that’s okay.

Levi masterlist | main masterlist

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman angst #aot oneshots #aot fanfiction #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you #captain levi fanfiction

[animeismyhappyplace]

Passion Blooms Under the Influence

Female MC x Barbatos Smut

Summary: After a quick study session with her tutor Solomon, MC finds herself feeling hot and bothered. Barbatos finds her and calms the heat scorching through her veins.

TLDR, MC gets dicked down by Barbatos 🥵

TW: Aphrodisiac use, mildly dubious consent due to aphrodisiac usage, they do cover consent but just to be safe, pet names, Barbs demon form makes an appearance, monster fucking I guess? (You'll see what I mean)

Word Count: 3,217

The last few weeks in the Devidom had been a bit of a blur for MC. Leviathan had summoned Lotan again after a fued with Mammon which left her room flooded and unusable luckily Diavolo offered her refuge in the Demon Lord Castle in one of the many spare bedrooms.

Today's lesson with Solomon had taken a weird turn, after practicing some simple spells they had gotten onto the topic of her little crush on the demon butler himself Barbatos. Her mentor had given her the usual pep talk about just being upfront about her feelings over a shared cup of tea, he had also given her a potion which he clamied would help boost her confidence in the matters of her heart before sending her on her way to her temporary home.

On her walk she noticed a prickling sensation starting to climb up her arms and down her legs. At first she brushed it off but the nearby demons began to start staring at her as her skin got hotter and hotter. In the end she had to teleport herself to the guest bedroom she'd been staying in to save herself, and the rest of her demon friends, too much public embarrassment.

Barbatos, being the immensely powerful demon he is, much have sensed the magical power entering the Demon Lord Castle and came to make sure the human exchange student was well after her trip out.

He knocks on her door a few times but when he doesn't get an answer he makes his presence known and enters the room, just to make sure she was unharmed, "MC, I assume your lesson went well?" He smiles as he opens the door before stopping in his tracks when he finally lays his eyes on the girl.

He sees her laid on the neatly made bed with her body streached out, sweat is streaked across her forehead and she's panting hard "B- Barbatos! Thank you for checking on me, I know you're probably busy..." She gulps down the saliva pooling under her tongue as he watches her curiously "It had been going well until Solomon gave me a potion to drink that he's currently working on and now I feel hot..." His green eyes flick from her body to her face as he watches her "Oh dear... Well... I'm here to take care of you, MC. You don't have to thank me, I am just doing what Lord Diavolo would expect me to do" He reaches his gloved hand down to push the hair back from her face causing her to shiver and push her body towards his retreating hand making him frown.

His finger curls under his chin as he thinks about your predicament "Did he tell you what the potion was for?" She shakes her head as she lifts her body to rest her weight on her elbows to look at him better "Just said... It would help me... Express feelings I've been hiding or something like that... I can't remember anymore". Barbatos can't help the hiss that falls from his lips as he looks away feeling irritation bubble in his chest "I have a... Suspicious of what that devious human has given you... Let's see" He hums as he returns his hand to her forehead, pushing his fingers through the strands of her hair and down to lightly caress her cheek watching to see her reaction to the soft and almost non existent stimulation.

MC can't help the whines that tumble past her lips as she tilts her head back to present her neck to the demon before she realises what she's done and gasps "I- I am SO sorry Barbatos... I don't know what's wrong with me" She looks down to the bedsheets with a slight pout before another wave of heat flows through her and she flops back down onto the bed, chest heaving.

Barbatos chuckles softly at her apology as he places one finger under her chin lifting her gaze to meet his own eyes. "Don't worry about it, MC." His voice is warm and soothing as he runs his gloved thumb over her lower lip, slowly trailing his way along her jawline as her tongue slips out of her mouth in an attempt to chase his clothed digits "I suspect Solomon has given you an aphrodisiac" Her eyes widen at his words before he continues "It would explain your temperature and your body's... Shall we say responsiveness..." His voice begins to trail off as he watches her intently.

She nods as she tries to take in his words "Is there any way to... Reverse it's effects?" Her fingers reach up slowly to hold his arm in place as she leans fully into his touch, Barbatos bites his bottom lip softly as he watches the human girl keen for his touch in ways he's dreamed of but never thought would become reality "We'd have to call the shady sorcerer himself to know for sure... But based on most aphrodisiacs the only way to rid you of the effects would be to-" He can't help but hesitate to finish the sentence but she nods to him to continue "You will need to satisfy your desires" He finishes with a slight blush dusted across his porcelain cheeks.

MC frowns for a moment confused before the realisation flashes across her face, a dark blush rising to her cheeks "Well with that I shall bid you farewell so you may... Rid yourself of your afflictions..." The demon clears his throat and bows with his hand across his chest before he turns to leave "NO!" She shouts across the room as she bolts upright grabbing his hand to stop him, she looks away from him embarrassed by her own neediness.

Barbatos stares down at her in surprise, his brow furrowing slightly as he waits for her next move. "No?" He can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he looks down to see the place on his uniform her hand has gripped to keep him from leaving the room. "I-" She can't quite find the words to ask him what she wants, she grips his arm tighter and tugs him towards her as she gets on her knees and comes to the end of the bed to face him.

Barbatos' smile grows as he sees her come to kneel before him, his hands come to gently caress her cheeks as he takes in her beauty. "Tell me what you want, MC" He mutters softly as he brings her face centimetres from his own. A shiver racks up her spine and settles in her chest as she feels his breath hit her lips "Will you help me Barbatos?" She reaches her hands up to hold the base of his neck enjoying their closeness.

Barbatos smiles softly as he hears her plea, leaning forward to bring his mouth to hers as he kisses her gently almost treating her like she's ready to break apart at his touch. As he does this, one of his hands slides around her waist and pulls her closer to him, bringing them both even closer together. "Of course, my dear. I'm always at your service" He whispers huskily as he pulls away just enough to speak and give her a moment to back away from him if she doesn't want to continue.

A loud whine escapes her at his words as she tugs his back to her kissing him with as much passion as she can "You can't say things like that Barb... It makes me feel so hot". His eyes widen slightly at her response but he quickly recovers and continues to kiss her passionately, running his tongue along her own and down to her jawline while his free hand goes to her hair, pulling it into a tight ponytail so he can run his fingers through it.

After a few moments he breaks off the kiss and looks deep into her eyes "Last chance to back out little lamb before I can no longer hold myself back". She shakes her head as she looks at him as seriously as she can given her almost delirious state of lust "Want this... Want you Barbatos" She runs her hands over his covered shoulders as she pushes his jacket off "Please". The last threads of his resolve break as he helps her remove his coat and tosses it aside, then wraps an arm around her waist and lifts her onto the bed beneath her, taking advantage of her smaller frame to get on top of her pinning her beneath him as he leans down to kiss her again. "My pleasure little lamb".

MC bites her lip as she looks up at him and whispers softly "You don't know how long I've wanted this" Her arms loop around his neck as she keeps him close to her, licking her tongue into his mouth as she starts to explores his body. He feels her lips press against his and gives in completely, wrapping his other arm around her back and pressing himself against her as he begins to explore her own body. "I can't guarantee I'll be gentle with you my dear" He says breathlessly, letting his tongue slip between her lips and dance with hers.

She nods quickly to show her understanding as she threads one of her hands into his hair tugging gently at his soft ombre locks while the other caresses her thumb against his cheek, continuing to kiss him while she pushes her hips up to grind against his covered length. He groans softly when she pulls his hair and presses their bodies together more firmly, enjoying every moment of her kisses as well as her grinding movements. His hands slide from her waist to her ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh he finds there as he moves his hips slowly against hers. "You're driving me crazy little lamb..." He confesses to her as he enjoys the slow rock of his hips against her own.

She gasps as she feels his length pushing against her already wet clothed pussy "N- Need you... Please~" She begs sweetly as she moves her head to kiss and bite gently at his bare neck. He smirks at her begging tone and moans quietly, using his free hand to push a lock of her hair behind her ear. As she nips at his skin marking him as her own he reaches for the clasp on her dress and undoes it, pulling the fabric away from her body and exposing her to his hungry eyes while he pulls his dress shirt over his head.

He bends his head down to softly kiss her neck before moving down to her collarbone and littering her skin with bites marking her in turn "Now everyone will know you're mine" He grins at her slightly possessively before returning to her heated body. He skillfully unclasps her bra exposing her breasts as he encases her pebbled nipple in his mouth.

She lets out an drawn out moan as he gently bites and suckles on her nipple teasing the sensitive bud before moving to her other breast giving it just as much attention until she's squirming against the bed desperately needing him further down her body. Sensing her frustration he gives each nipple one last lick before trailing more kisses down her body before finally sliding down further to lick and nibble her thighs. She shivers under his touch and arches her back pushing her body closer to his teasing mouth.

As Barbatos pulls himself upright he takes a moment to enjoy the sight of the young girl in front of him marked up and desperate, the view he has from above her is enough to make his hardened length throb with need let alone the thoughts that invade his mind of what he would like to do to her. MC spreads her legs for him and he can't help the chuckle that leaves his lips "So wet already. My my that aphrodisiac worked rather quickly" He pulls her soaked panties down her legs and throws them to the side watching as more slick leaves her pussy and trails down her thighs.

Barbatos lowers himself back down to the bed as he removes his gloves throwing them to the floor then places his bare hands onto her thighs pushing them further apart so he can place himself between them. He moans as he finally gets a taste of her essence, first licking up the lines of wetness that coated her inner thighs before giving her pussy a long lick from her hole to her clit "You taste, dare I say, heavenly my little lamb" The way he slurps up her wetness lights her body on fire, only contributing to the aphrodisiacs effects.

MC's thighs twitch as she grasps his hair with both hands tugging harshly and shaking her head with tears rolling down her rosy cheeks "S'too much! I need your cock" Her head tips back as she rocks pussy into his face moaning as she cants her hips forward despite her pleas for him to just fuck her already. Barbatos lets out another laugh at her impatience as he feels her pulling on his hair. Had it not been for the aphrodisiac he may had punished her for being in such a rush, maybe next time he thinks to himself with a sinister smile. His emerald eyes dart over to her breasts and he smiles softly at how she's trying to push herself towards him. With a firm grip on her thighs he holds her still and licks her again from bottom to top and back down once more before circling her clit with his tongue "Need to prep you MC" He slides two of his thick fingers into her waiting pussy rubbing them against her throbbing walls.

MC's hand reach backwards to grab the sheets and grip them in her hands as she moans loudly "Barb" She whimpers out as her body trembles underneath him. The feeling of her inner walls tightening around his fingers causes him to groan out as he looks up at her face. Her juices are flowing freely and coating his lips and chin. He gives her one last kiss on her abused clit before moving backwards he licks her juices off his fingers "I believe that's enough teasing now my dear".

Keeping her legs spread for repositions himself and gives his leaking member a few sharp tugs before he runs his cock down to her sopping pussy to collect her juices lubing up his cock before pushing himself into her slowly letting her feel every inch as the burn of the aphrodisiac slowly starts to decrease. The dark haired demon smirks as he watches her reaction, seeing the relief spread across her face as he pushes himself into her. A low moan escapes her lips as he enters her fully. He waits for her to adjust before starting to thrust inside her gently but firmly, Barbatos reaches one hand up and intertwines his fingers with hers as he holds their hands above her head while the the trails down her side to grip her ass pulling her leg over his own keeping her close to his body. Each time he pulls out he leans down and kisses her neck before pushing himself back in, knocking the wind sinfully out of her chest.

As he starts to build up his pace rocking into her harder and faster her unoccupied hand finds purchase on his waist holding onto her demon lover as he pistons his hips into her own making the bed shake and buckle under his immense strength. Barbatos lets go of her hand as he feels her pussy throb and tighten around his cock and grabs onto her hips tightly. He begins to pound into her harder and faster each time slamming her further up the bed, her moans and whimpers increase in volume her hands reach up to grip onto her pillow tight.

His own moans are getting louder as he feels his cock head leaking precum into her pussy, he starts to feel himself losing control of his emotions when he suddenly shifts into his demon form due to the pleasure that racks through his body. She can't help the gasp that escapes her as she feels his body change under her fingers, seeing his demon form only makes her skin burn hotter. MC's hand grips his waist tighter her nails leaving crescent shaped marks as she reaches her other hand up to his hair to grip the base of his bone like horns.

The sensation of her touch sends waves of pleasure throughout his entire being. He lets out an animalistic moan and slams himself deep inside her "'M not going to be able to hold on much longer" He grunts while snaking his hand down between them to rub his fingers against her swollen clit. Her legs shake as he plays with her sensitive nub, she wraps her legs around his waist while her hands grip onto the base of his horns and his fork ended tail wraps around her waist to keep her steady. She matches his thrusts the best she can moaning loudly as pleasure shoots down her spine at all of the stimulation.

Barbatos kisses her deeply before moving his lips to her neck letting his fangs pierce her skin as he bites down in an attempt to control his moans, the painful pleasure from his bite sends her body over the edge into orgasm as he licks at the wound he's left behind "Cumming! 'M cumming!" MC moans loudly gripping onto her lovers body to steady herself as she cums hard, legs shaking violently.

Her pussy clenching hard on his cock and feeling her hands gripping his horns is the last drop of stimulation he needs to finally cum, Barbatos grunts loudly as he releases his load inside her as he continues to pound away at her releasing every bit of cum he has left. After several minutes of his own body shaking he pulls out and collapses beside her panting heavily.

As they both lay beside each other coming down from their highs the demon pulls her body to him as he gives her a soft kiss on her lips "Feeling better?" He asks chuckling softly as she simply nods her head clearly tired "Yes...I'm good now." She finally replies resting her head on his chest as her fingers draw delicate shapes on his sweat soaked body. His fingers slip under her chin to lift her head as he shifts out of his demon form "I'm sorry for shifting like that" He mutters as he caresses her face.

She leans into his touch enjoying the tender moment between them "No need to apologise, you're beautiful no matter what form you take" She smiles at him as she closes her eyes an ache seeping into her bones. "Thank you for taking care of me Barb.." She whispers quietly to him before drifting off to sleep. He gives her one last kiss placed against her forehead "Anything for you, my little lamb" He grins to himself softly as he allows sleep to take over his spent body.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me fluff #Barbatos #barbatos x f!reader #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos #barbatos #barbatos x mc #Barbatos smut #obey me barbatos smut #barbatos x you #barbatos x y/n #barbatos x mc smut #smut #demon smut #obey me barbatos smut x mc

[y-rhywbeth2]

Gods and Clergy: Bane

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Watchful Brother/Sister/Sibling

Deadly Adept

Trusted Servant

Willing Whip

Hooded Menace

Black Fang

Striking Hand

Vigilant Talon

Masked Death

Dark Doom

Higher Doom

Deep Mystery

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

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

Vigilator

Lord/Lady of Mysteries

Lord/Lady of the Hand

Imperceptor

Dark Imperceptor

Grand Bloodletter

High Inquisitor

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

They cannot feel fear from sources other than Bane

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

They can completely destroy the souls of the dying

Create extra evil undead

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

They can summon undead beholders to serve them

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[littleskeletonprincessss]

Heyyyy yknow what we were just talking about? So, maybe you should write Schlatt getting mad and fucking the shit out of you

-In any context-

I’m totally not just asking this so I can complete all the drafts I have

Heyyyy, i'm going to use what we were talking about as the scenario for this. (For anyone confused, you can go read the post here (you definitely SHOULD go read it because) but tldr, Schlatt would throw a bitch fit trying to put a tent up. (The SHELTER kind, you filthy rats)

also, was definitely listening to ysf audio while doing this which kinda helped. Definitely recommend him if you haven't heard.

Just some HCs:

It definitely would have taken weeks and a couple blowjobs to convince Schlatt to take you camping.

When he finally gave in, the process didn't go smooth AT ALL.

You both somehow forgot to actually make reservations at a camping site, but you reassured him that you didn't need a campsite, you could just drive into the mountains somewhere.

So anyway it starts POURING rain.

And his car is getting dirty driving through all the mud puddles trying to find a place

Side note I think Schlatt is definitely the kind of man who babies his stupid car.

As much as he babies you, if not more

When you finally find a clearing, and the rain stopped, you both got out to set up camp

But come to find out the instructions for your tent were nowhere to be found.

Schlatt being who he is, insisted with every ounce of pride in his body, that he could figure the damn thing out.

He definitely muttered lots of swear words under his breath, along with the whole idea of this stupid trip

You'd been unloading the bed supplies and when you were done you noticed it was getting darker

So you innocently asked Schlatt if he wanted a little bit of help when you noticed that he'd made no progress

"No I don't want you goddamn help. I'm not a fucking idiot."

"Schlatt, come on, it's getting dark, let me help."

"Shut the fuck up. This whole stupid camping trip was your idea in the first place."

You could see Schlatt's eyes darken with anger and frustration and fuck was it hot.

"No."

Was it a good idea to say that right now? Oh absolutely fucking not. Did you care? Absolutely fucking not.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"You heard me."

Schlatt would stand up, throwing the bag of stakes down and walk to the pile of blankets before grabbing a big one off the top.

"I thought I fucking did. Fuck this fucking dumbass tent, I can blow your back out right here, now lay the fuck down."

After Schlatt would spread the blanket out you'd lay down on the slightly damp ground, barely having time to move a rock from under your back before Schlatt was pressing hard kisses against your neck, sucking harsh bruises.

"What, I don't even get a kiss first?"

Schlatts hand would immediately be on your throat.

"You need to shut your goddamn mouth. Make me drive to the middle of bum fuck nowhere with a stupid tent that won't stay up."

Schlatt would break up his sentences with nips to your neck.

His other hand would hold both of your above your head, pinning your wrists.

The nice thing about being in the middle of nowhere was you could be as loud as you needed and Schlatt made it his personal goal sometime to make you break the world record for loudest noise ever made.

He'd waste no time getting both of you naked so he could just fuck you already and sink the tent he never had trouble getting up between your thighs.

And he'd go HARD.

Taking every bit of anger out on you

"Yeah, that's my little bitch. Just a fucking little cumslut for me aren't you doll? That's all your good for apparently, since you can only come up with stupid ideas like camping"

"Open your fucking mouth." he'd say before spitting in it. "That's it, sweetheart, take it."

Man would go for hours he was so pent up, both of you coming multiple times together.

After he'd finally calmed down, when the sun was just coming up, he'd pull his underwear back on before dressing you in the warm pajamas you'd brought

Just some of his sweats and his Wilson hoodie

before wrapping you in a clean blanket and bridal carrying you to the passenger seat of the car

He'd get dressed and pack everything up before sliding in to his sit and leaning over the console to kiss you.

"You okay baby?"

Schlatt is aftercare king, always.

"Mmm" you'd mumble quietly

Starting the car, Schlatt would start driving home.

You'd turn to watch the trees pass by out the window before glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Schlatt I think you forgot the tent."

"Nope."

And he'd drive away without another word leaving a pile of canvas behind you.

Anyway sorry this was shit. <3

#schlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt smut #jschlatt smut

[howlingday]

Jaune Arc fell into ice. That's the last thing he remembered. Now he's in a strange grove with spirits watching him all the time.... He thinks they might be broken.

Team RWBY are faunas researchers who've found the discovery of the century. A human man still alive in ice. It's a contested theory that ancient humans eventually evolved into faunas and with a member of the previously thought extinct species they might just be able to prove it. Now how to get closer to him

(tldr stone age jaune dealing with modern day faunas RWBY being horny on main for him. The spirits must be crazy)

Last Man Standing

The last thing Jaune remembered that cold winter evening was sulking across the ice to get away from his cheating ex-girlfriend. What was supposed to be a romantic night of welcoming in the new year instead became the worst heartbreak of his life, made worse when she called him out as a spineless nobody that no woman would ever want. She also said his hair looked shaggy, which didn't hurt as much as the betrayal itself, but it still stung.

Then everything got fast. Then everything got cold. And then everything got dark.

When he awoke, he took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling a sweet scent of strawberries. His eyes still shut; he leaned forward to get closer to the smell. This earned him a yelp, a slap, and a scream. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a girl in a red hood running around the corner. Did she have dog ears?

"Where..." Jaune groaned as he leaned forward, noticing the hot air blowing over him. Though he was still partially frozen in ice, he managed to push his way through the, at best, hard slush of his cocoon. He looked down to see his clothes were soaked. "Ah, man..."

"I'm telling you, Weiss, I know what I saw!"

"Ruby Rose, the specimen has been frozen for at least a thousand years! Even if he did manage to thaw out, he wouldn't... be..."

The two young women stared at Jaune as he twisted his hoodie like a used dishrag, water spilling onto the floor. He turned and saw them, his eyes nearly as wide as theirs as they stared at one another.

For Jaune, he'd never seen anyone like them before! It was like something out of an anime. Two beautiful girls, one with pointed, dog-like ears, while the other had a long and bushy tail twitched back and forth. For them-

"CODE GRAY!" Screamed the tailed girl. She then rushed out of the room, dragging the other girl behind her. The dog-eared one glanced back with sort of sad eyes. None of it sounded good to Jaune, and considering the wailing sirens and flashing lights, he had to get out of wherever he is and fast!

Tossing on his still damp shirt, he made for the exit, accidentally knocking over a poor girl with rabbit ears. He gave a hasty apology as he continued to bolt down the hallway. Unfortunately, this caught more people's attention, and eventually a woman came barreling after him, hand on her beret to keep from flying off her small, round ears. He couldn't see much of her eyes past her designer shades, but what he could see spelled death.

"Incoming!" Jaune looked ahead, flipping backwards as his neck slammed into an extended arm. He gave a hoarse groan as he looked up to see three women towering over him. One was the same woman as before with round ears poking from her beret, the cute appearance contrasting with her snarling scowl. Another had gave a cheeky grin as she leaned forward a bit, showing off her cleavage to her catch, all the while a long, blonde tail swished about.

But the third and final woman gave no hint of any sort of emotion. Neither anger nor joy, but simple indifference. She reached behind her and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, tethered by a thick cable with glowing blue lights that ceased and revealed an opening with the click of a button. Her pointed, red dog-like ears made her look all the more intimidating.

"You're under arrest."

#rwby #rwby au #lone human au #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #velvet scarlatina #yang xiao long #pyrrha nikos #wolf!faunus ruby #squirrel!faunus weiss #bear!faunus coco #horse!faunus yang #fox!faunus pyrrha

[gracie-gloom]

He's Mine

Rhea Ripley x Female Reader (':

TLDR - Rhea gets jealous over your friendship with Dom, little does she know that you've got a massive crush on her instead. A forced confession leads to some....if you know what I'm saying.. LMFAO ok enjoy I'm going to scream into my pillow now for writing this! <3 (I'M SORRY IF IT'S REALLY LONG?? LOL)

You've been working alongside Rhea's team for several months now but she was still the one you were most distant with. You were a designer and made custom stage outfits and what not for some of the wrestlers. Though you felt welcomed by everyone, there was always a shift in the air when you and Rhea would be in the same room.

You knew she didn't like you, but you couldn't recall anything wrong that you'd done to her so you spoke to her as a friend nonetheless. You'd grown closer with Dom as the past weeks have gone by, in a way it made you feel close to Rhea since she made it clear she didn't want you around.. Even before joining the team she was always the woman that stole your attention away from everyone else. She was amazing, she was everything you were looking for, and you hated yourself for the fact that she would never see you as anymore than an annoyance.

You came down late one morning, grabbing some breakfast while the others were in the basement watching sports and being rowdy as ever. Thinking you were alone, you hear the shuffle of clothing slowly coming down the stairs, it was Rhea, and she did not look happy.

"I know what you're doing,"

"I'm sorry? Did something happen or..?"

Rhea walked towards you, stopping just inches away from your face and looked down at you,

"Stay away from Dom, he's mine."

You stepped back, letting out a small laugh,

"Rhea it's not like that I think you're mistak-"

"I said stay away from him." Rhea dragged out the words in a low tone, she then left, walking past you and roughly shoving you out of her way. At a loss for words, you grabbed the remains of your breakfast and left to finish up your work.

The following night, there was a celebration party going on, not of your particular interest but you attended out of courtesy. The team was currently travelling so you were all staying in a beach house together for the time being. You weren't complaining though, it was practically a mansion and there was a great view. The party was coming to an end, while you and Dom were sharing laughs over a drink, you missed Rhea coming in and you froze inside when you locked eyes with her.

"Hey everything okay?" Dom asked, seeing the sudden change in your demeanor,

"Yeah I'm fine, I just.. uh, it's getting late and I have a ton of work for tomorrow, you guys enjoy the rest of the night though." you said, getting up with a smile and putting your glass away.

Your room for the time being was on the top floor, grabbing some undergarments and a silk robe you headed to take a shower before being interrupted by Rhea standing at your door frame.

"I thought I told you," Rhea slowly walked toward you, glaring you down.

"And I told you, it's not like that, now if you'll excuse me I'm going to shower, or would you like to stalk me there too?"

"You can stall all you want, this conversation isn't done, I've got a lot of time." Rhea said, giving you a sarcastic smile.

You ignored her, continuing on with your nightly routine, at least now you could relax a bit. Indulging in the hot water and heavenly scents, it'd be a lie if you said the way Rhea spoke and acted towards you didn't hurt. But she only seemed to care about Dom, they were bestfriends after all, a relationship you wouldn't ever think to get in between.

Heading back to your room, your hair was still slightly damp, and sleeping attire was usually just undergarments since you liked the feeling of the fuzzy blankets against your skin. Closing the door and slipping your robe off, you were left in a simple lace thong and bralette set. You turned around to see Rhea sitting on your bed giving you a sinister wave,

"Why are you still here?!"

"Didn't I say I had a lot of time?" she responded maliciously. Letting out a sigh and rolling your eyes at her, "You're impossible," you muttered.

"I mean I had a pretty simple ask of you girl, but it seems you'd prefer to disobey me."

Now, you were angry, climbing onto the bed and getting all up in Rhea's face as she had done with you yesterday morning when you were eating,

"Okay fine, you win, you want to know the truth Rhea? If you wanna know soooo bad I'll tell you okay?" always having a calm and collected aura, Rhea was taken aback by your sudden outburst towards her, but she was impressed either way. Propped up on your side now, almost touching her, it was time to come clean.

"You know at first.. I thought maybe you saw through me, maybe you knew already. I always assumed you were just teasing me about the stuff with Dom. Because.. you don't even know, the amount of dreams I've had where I'm laying next to you just like this," moving her arm so it was around you now, you laid your head on Rhea's shoulder. "But you never look my way, and yeah Dom is great of course, talking to him makes me feel closer to you, since, well.. it's no secret I'm not your favorite person here. I'm sorry, it was never my intention to steal him away from you or whatever, I just can't look you in the eyes or hold a conversation with you since I get so nervous and you don't help the fact either.."

Rhea was silent the whole time, had she really missed your feelings this entire time? She started to feel a bit guilty in the way she treated you now.

"Anyways, it's just a dream, then I wake up and remember you hate me.." trailing off with yours words, you moved to the edge of the bed, your legs dangling off the mattress.

"Is that so?" Rhea questioned, you could hear her moving towards you now, happy to get your feelings out of the way, though your heart was practically beating out of your chest. You felt warm hands on your shoulders, slowly sliding the straps of your bralette off,

"What are you doing?!" you asked in a sharp tone, eyes wide open,

"What? Shouldn't this be something you want?"

"It's.. it is but it's wrong,"

"What part of it? You're single, I'm single," she whispered in your ear while reaching down to your clit, rubbing it ever so gently over the lace fabric. You couldn't help yourself and had let a few moans escape your lips. Rhea smirked knowing she was in control now.

Helping you slide off your thong, Rhea moved you and herself to a better position. Teasing your clit with her tongue she finally gave in and was eating you out better than you'd ever had. You wanted her to stop but something about it felt so right at the same time, how did she go from hating you one minute to wanting to fuck you the next.

"That's all it really takes for you to be dripping wet for me huh," you felt her fingers teasing you once more before she inserted two of them inside you, quickly pumping in and out while you struggled to catch your breath and not get too loud for the others to hear.

Too embarrassed to look down at Rhea while she pleasured you, you knew she was enjoying every minute of it making you squirm like this. Her tongue felt magical, she was rough but loving at the same time. Rhea quickened her pace, now fingering you with 3 fingers while still eating you out, her free hand roamed and grabbed at your body while you lay in bliss, taking in every moment of this.

"Rhea please... I'm gonna cum," you said in between moans, a few short moments after, you finished. You felt as if you were floating, Rhea got up, patting you on the head before leaving your room, disappointed to say the least, your heart sunk that she just left. But Rhea returned with a warm wet cloth to clean you up instead, only for her to then say goodnight to you while getting up to actually leave this time.

"Rhea.." you called out by instinct, following after her quickly before she could open the door, "won't you stay tonight?"

"Hm.. well, I suppose I could since you were so good for me," she said with a laugh. It was the first time she had actually smiled at you, and was kind to you. She would deal with the questions about her whereabouts from the others in the morning, but for now it wasn't a dream. You were so comfortable and could fall asleep any second with Rhea holding you, softly brushing a hand through your hair.

"You better be here when I wake up,"

"I will be, don't worry." Rhea said, tenderly kissing you before the two of you fell asleep.

#fanfic #fem #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #female reader #fanfiction #fluff #smut

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/23/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Vico Ortiz; Astroglide; Articles; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Never Left Podcast; OFMD Colouring Pages; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos Dad popped out to send some love and support today!

Img Src: David Jenkins Twitter

= Taika Waititi =

Well, Taika broke the internet today with his Belvedere commercial. Directed and starred in it. Be sure to open a window because it is hot.

= Samba Schutte =

Samba has started up a new T Shirt campaign to benefit the charity @everymomcounts that helps to make pregnancy and childbirth, safe and equitable! You can either buy a #CrewForLife t-shirt, or sign up for one of his baking classes/meet and greets!

Our Merch Means Death on Stands

Delicious Chaos with Samba Schutte

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico starred in a short called Fire F*cking Fire and great news it's headed to the Tribeca Film Festival in June!

Img Src: Vico Ortiz IG

== Astroglide ==

Our besties over at @astroglideofficial put out a word search today with a few words/phrases you'll recognise!

Img Src: Astroglide Twitter

== Articles ==

Warner Bros. Stock Has Had a Rough Year. Why This Analyst Thinks It Will Get Even Worse.

Mark Indelicato Frustrated With Queer Shows Constantly Cancelled

== Fan Spotlight ==

== Cast Cards ==

Our fabulous @melvisik has another cast card for us! Tonight's is another one of the bourgeousie that Frenchie and Olu manageed to include in their Pyramid Scheme! They are the one that Olu told to "Go Away"!

Img Src: @melvisik's Twitter

== Never Left Podcast ==

Next episode of the podcast Never Left is out! This one is Beautiful Princess Disorder Part 5!

Never Left Instagram

Never Left Linktr.ee

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

More colouring pages from the fantastic @patchworkpiratebear ! Visit their tumblr for more!

== Love Notes ==

Hey there Lovelies. Happy Taika Tuesday! Did you have a good day today?

Dad's comments today brought out a lot of folks sharing their stories on therapy and I wanted to chat about it for a moment.

First of all, if you're delving out for the first time (or trying again after years of not going)-- just know, you're being really brave. Depending on where you come from and your background, mental health may not have been something that your family prioritized (or maybe it was but therapy was never an option). It can be pretty scary to talk to someone you don't know about your inner most worries. You're taking a big step, and I'm proud of you for that.

You've looked at your situation, whatever tough things you're experiencing, and you've decided to prioritize you and your mental health-- and that's amazing. It's a hard decision to make sometimes, and as simple as it should be, it's not that easy. I'm so happy that mental health is talked about and therapy is so much more accepted now a days. Growing up I was in a situation where we "didn't talk about ourselves to other people" and that can be so very lonely when you are feeling really down.

I wanted to mention a couple things that I didn't know going into therapy-- in case they help at all, but obviously every experience is different, so feel free to take or leave the advice :)

Firstly, therapy doesn't solve things overnight. Sometimes it'll take weeks, or months, or years to unpack some of the things you really need to work through. It'll take time. When I went to therapy for the first time, for some reason I thought I'd just be able to dump all my problems out on a table and the therapist would pick one and we'd work on it. Instead it was a gradual thing, where they got to know me, I got to know them, and the more we talked the more we were able to unravel. I just don't want you to get discouraged if it takes longer than you planned, it's definitely a process.

Secondly, something to remember, is not all therapists are going to vibe with you. It took me a few tries before I found a therapist that really worked well with me. If you don't feel like it's helping, consider looking into a different therapist, sometimes it's not the therapy that you're struggling with, but just a mismatched vibe with your therapist. If you can help it-- don't give up right away, try another, I was really grateful that I did.

Thirdly, and if you're like me, this is a tough one. Remember to advocate for yourself. Sometimes a therapist may want to try certain therapies, or exercises, and it's something you've tried and just isn't working for you, or they want to go a medication route and you dont, or maybe they're saying something you disagree with. Remember you're your own advocate here, and they're here to help you, not hinder you from getting to where you want to be. Speak up for yourself if you can.

Lastly, therapy, especially the first few, don't always end in happy feelings. Think of it like a muscle in your leg that you haven't been using for years...and it's atrophied. You have to build that muscle back up, and it can really hurt occasionally during that time. You might leave therapy feeling worse once or twice because you're finally letting out some of that vitriol you've been holding onto for so long. It should feel better later.. maybe the next day, but it may not feel great the same day. That's a perfectly reasonable experience to have, and if you feel awesome, that is too!

Anyway lovelies, not sure if that helps, but I wanted to share it just in case it helped someone.

Whether you're going to therapy tomorrow, or soon, or ever, or never, I am really proud of you. You're doing what you need for you, and that's the most important thing. You deserve good things, and healthy thoughts and positive feelings. You really do. You got this <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is hats <3 Taika Gif Courtesy of the phenomenal @ofmd-ann, Darby gif Courtesy of the lovely @funforahermit

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #vico ortiz #david jenkins #samba schutte #never left podcast #our flag means death #ofmd #rhys darby #taika waititi #Youtube #Spotify

[silverwanderingcrow]

Okay I have feelings and I'm not sure how long this is going to be so bare with me here

So, when watching doccy who as I was growing up, I had dvds rather than watching it on BBC iPlayer, but only the dvds I could find in charity shops, so i had a random selection of David Tennant basically. The collection grew over time and now I'm watching episodes I didn't even know existed! This is amazing for me to discover David Tennant eps I've never seen before!

I would like to talk for a moment about 10 and how he has been portrait in fanon and now in canon.

So when I was watching 10 growing up I felt a connection to him that as I got older I identified that I saw him as asexual, and the people i interacted with in my life also felt this and confirmed my suspicions as their headcanons as well. But more recently I have descovered the sexualisation of 10. While this is okay for me, we're all entitled to our opinions, I noticed this starting to appear in canon, most notably in the 50th anniversary, with the constant comments about how sexualised 10 is. Personally I prefered when his sexuality was ambiguous.

I have also noticed this shift from mostly could be ace to hot gay sex in good omens. Idk maybe it's the sexy David effect but I just think maybe we could have some more ace good omens, just to balance out the onslaught of Hot Gay Sex TM.

I could go on and on about how characters have been sexualised in fanon all day but I'm going to end it there. Just something to think about

Tldr: to me 10, aziraphale and Crowley are ace and I'm saddened about the sexualised nature of them in fanon.

#good omens 2 #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #go2 #good omens season 2 #go 2 #michael sheen #david tennet #david and michael #david tennant #doctor who #10th doctor #rambles #aromantic #asexuality #asexual #aroace #silver speaks

[fracturediron]

I haven't really had any standout favourites amongst the DFF characters and I don't really ship any of the canon ships in the usual sense (i.e. no obsessive brainrot, although I'm enjoying them all from a narrative perspective). But the bombshell that was ep 9 has finally made me latch onto a character. This guy:

Although not I think for the most common reason that has caused Tan/New's surge in popularity i.e. being Non's avenger. Because man, New is so much more than that. This kid is a hot mess who's lost everything he holds dear, filled with guilt for failing Non and then his family, seeking answers, revenge, redemption and now has nothing left to lose. I'm so here for it. New's character and his arc is just fucking fascinating to me. Kudos to Mio for playing it so subtle until now and then knocking it out of the freaking park for ep 9.

This kid was the golden child of his family and favoured at least by his mother, and yet clearly felt the pressure of those expectations.

And then! And then! His and Non's whole deal makes my brain buzz. I love me some tragic siblings with a yawning emotional gulf in understanding between them; of a relationship lost or a closeness that never quite made it, of a relationship of two brothers endlessly set against each other and damaged by their parents. A relationship where he failed Non in a litany of little ways by not being there for him, and one always inevitably overshadowed by the comparisons their parents made between them both.

And when Non disappears, New is overcome with guilt! For failing him, and for not being able to be there for him, and so he resolves to find out what happened to him. And he fucking commits to it! This guy throws away his scholarship, his life in England, to fucking redo highschool and infiltrate the gang of kids who bullied his brother! For two years, he hung around with these people pretending to like them and lied to his parents, only to have nothing to show for it and to lose even more when his mother kills herself, his father disowns him and then does the same! This shit would break the strongest of people (and I'd argue something in New is broken now) but he still finds it in himself to kickstart the plan that will bring hell down on these kids.

This kid has lost everything, and is clearly at a place of desperation and despair. But he's still not giving up. Even in the face of ruination and perhaps his own destruction, I feel like New will keep going on regardless if it means finding out what happened to Non. He'll do whatever it takes, burn the world, immolate himself, if it means making that happen.

I think ultimately, I love that New's a tragic, complex character who's been ruined by life and by his own doing, and through ruination, has come out of it unhinged, perhaps even something worse. Someone haunted by the ghosts of his lost family, by his failures and his guilt. Someone with so much potential for further tragedy, who'll likely destroy themselves relentlessly chasing his end goal and end in misery.

TLDR; I love me a haunted, broken, unhinged, fucked up li'l guy.

#i wanna scuttle around in new's brain like a beetle #wind him up and watch him go #dead friend forever #dff the series #dff #dff spoilers #new dff #tan dff