#but it's only approaching the end of the first PART

[leevstheworld]

⚠ CONTENT WARNING — smut. Pure smut. (And some fluff?) p in v, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!); fingering, oral (fem receiving), Max Verstappen is a mean asshole in the paddock but a softie out of it (mostly); praise, lots of praise, mentions of alcohol and drinking; badly translated Dutch (sorryyy); reader is AFAB fem identifying. MDNI 18+.

Author's note: Sometimes Max Verstappen does things to me I cannot describe. The idea came to me and I just started writing. Also the reader is part of Scuderia Ferrari because, eheh, forza Ferrari. (Gonna write Leclerc stuff as well soon, watch me.)

All it takes is a win — Max Verstappen (Formula 1) x Scuderia Ferrari!(fem)Reader (SMUT)

Being a Formula 1 driver was anything but easy.

Sure, you had your moments when you'd spend time with the grid filming funny videos for the fans and doing weird challenges — but, once you had to get serious, the workouts and practice snapped you back to reality.

You were now part of Scuderia Ferrari — it's been a few months since you joined, and your teammates, Charles and Carlos, weren't all that bad, cracking jokes and pulling pranks on another like some high schoolers. You felt like home with them, laughing 'til morning when you'd celebrate each Grand Prix, getting drunk and all.

Your biggest issue was, however, your boyfriend.

Relationships in the grid were mostly kept a secret — you didn't need the news to holler with spicy details of the well-known Formula 1 drivers, so much for the reporters keeping an eye on all of you 24/7. If there was anything going on, it stayed within the paddock.

So, apart from Charles and Carlos, who found out against their will, nobody knew you were dating Max Verstappen. The world champion. The best of the best, or whatever made his ego inflate.

One issue you had about your boyfriend was that he'd be too cruel and unforgiving during race week. He didn't mean no harm, but it did hurt when he always expected you to do better, as he was personally involved in your training as a driver. It's like he wasn't pleased with you at all, and, Hell, even Charles told him to take it easy.

"Hey, no," the Monégasque spoke out when Max was halfway through one of his tirades again, "let Y/N be. She's learning throughout." His arms crossed, staring the Dutch down, in spite of his usual relaxed expression.

Carlos joined in, getting a bit concerned about the situation. "You can't be ordering her around like this. Trust me, we all learned in our own ways." This only earned a frustrated huff from Max, walking away from the scene as if nothing had happened in the first place — and you swore you could feel your heart beat through your Nomex underwear and Ferrari race suit.

—

You didn't even register when half of the season went by you — and, soon enough, you were ready to participate in the Austrian Grand Prix.

The race went smoother than expected — you were fully focused, your signature red Ferrari car driving past the others, smoothly operating (ha) the machine as if it was made for you.

The realization dawned onto you as the race ended and you completed your last lap, noticing only two cars past the finish line — the Red Bull cars, which were Max and Checo's.

You came third place.

Exiting the car as soon as you thought of it, you looked around, taking your helmet and balaclava off and feeling the fresh air on your sweaty face, hearing the overjoyed crowd around you.

You didn't even see when Max came and embraced you with all of his might, only noticing the joy in his eyes through his helmet. Checo followed suit, giving you a friendly embrace and congratulating you, to which you replied with the same approach.

You heard the announcer beam through the speakers, feeling pure happiness course through your veins. "And L/N comes third place on the grid, Ferrari makes its way on the podium by the end of the Austrian Grand Prix..."

This is worth celebrating, right?, the small voice in your head asked itself, unsure whether your boyfriend's reaction from earlier was genuine or not.

—

You've long changed out of your race suit and into your usual clothing, waiting in the hotel room for the hours to pass so you'd attend tonight's party; you shook hands and embraced way more people than you probably thought existed in the perimeter of the circuit and the paddock, eventually coming in your hotel room soaked from the habitual champagne bath on the podium — you were sticky, but happy.

After taking a shower, you got to this point, scrolling on your phone and reading the news pages about the race from earlier, smiling to yourself. You couldn't help but sulk when you noticed Max on each photo on-line, wondering if he was truly proud of you, if this even mattered to him.

Then, as if Max read your mind, he texted you, your phone buzzing in your hand.

'Where are you?'

You answered back, your digits tapping away on the screen.

'In my hotel room, why?'

On the other side of the phone, Max was still in the paddock, slightly frowning at your change in mood — you were on the podium, you came third place! Was there something wrong? Did you want to do better?

'Why did you leave all of a sudden?'

You reply immediately, 'The party's only later tonight. There's no point hanging around until then. I'm getting rest.' You knew you were lying — you didn't feel that tired, being used to the schedule and all. You just didn't want to endure another of Max's scoldings.

As if he read through your excuses, he types, 'Ok, I'm coming over.' You sighed at Max's response — sometimes, even outside the circuit, he was way too stubborn.

—

The door to your hotel room opened, as you didn't bother locking it; in comes Max, having, too, stripped of his race suit in exchange for more comfortable clothes, wearing a T-shirt and jeans. His blue eyes don't roam around the room — they look directly at you, in your direction. "What happened?" He asked, still seemingly puzzled by your change in behaviour.

The man sits on your bed, next to you, waiting for an answer; he still didn't bother leaving his race mannerisms where they belonged, still being oh so demanding. You don't bother responding; that is, until his hand finds your jaw and cups it so you can face his direction.

"Speak to me." He speaks out, tone still demanding, and you sigh, giving in to the man who was, although an ass sometimes, your boyfriend. Yours.

"Are you proud of me?" Your voice came out as meek, already expecting the worst answer; you can see Max's eyes slightly widen, taking in the information he needed from that question.

"So that's what it was?" Max spoke no higher than a whisper, his gaze softening. "Do you seriously think I'm not proud of you, schat?¹" And, as you shook your head, he realizes just what you're talking about, your reaction and the way you didn't dare face him.

"No, no, Y/N.." He moves onto the bed so he can hold you, shifting the two of you so your face buried in his chest, strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. "No, it's not like that. I am proud of you. I'm proud of every single thing you do, lieverd.²" Your lack of response concerns Max further, and he removes you from his warm embrace, looking into your eyes. "Please believe me."

You couldn't. You speak out, "Then why are you so cruel to me? Why do you keep bossing over everything I do?" His breathing stops for a moment, now knowing your perspective. "No, I don't mean it like that.. I am trying to help, I know how demanding Ferrari can be." His lips come in contact with your cheek, peppering small kisses on your face. "Schat, no— I just want to help, please— 'm sorry."

You feel yourself melt in Max's embrace; however, you couldn't shake any of the things that have happened before. "You're too cruel." You repeat, voice softening until it can't be heard anymore. "I know, I know", the Dutch speaks, palpable regret in his voice. "'m sorry, liefde.³ I'll do better," his words started sounding reassuring, "promise."

"Y/N— I'm especially proud of you for today. You came third place, and this was a tougher race. You did it, I'm so proud, I promise you", the man spoke between kisses, now placed on your jaw and lips. "Promise, I promise."

You went forward to taste his lips more — sweet, soft and a slight tang of victory champagne — and your eyes fluttered shut, Max's hands moving from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you in closer, even closer than imaginable; he sighed in relief, although you might be, a bit, still mad at him for not showing enough support this season.

"Come on," the blonde pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips with his, "let me show you. Let- please, let me show you how proud I am, schat. Please." He looked at you with soft eyes and a slightly parted mouth, slight blush on his cheeks as he fiddled with the waistband of your sweatpants. "Promise, I promise I'm proud. So proud, liefde, I promise you."

You were sure Max didn't drink apart from a few sips of champagne, and you didn't even partake in the celebration other than bathing with the alcohol instead of ingesting it. The decision prompted you to give Max a nod, and he complies, your lips meeting once more, with more hunger, as his hands shimmied your sweatpants down to expose your underwear. He followed suit, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, tugging them down just enough to get to his boxers, hardening member confined under the cotton material.

His kisses trailed on your jaw and neck, lips sucking on the soft flesh enough to make your breath hitch, and he hummed in response, tongue sliding over the soon-forming hickeys to compensate. "So sweet, schat", he spoke against the skin of your neck, making you shiver in his hold, his lips moving further down on your collarbone before nearly yanking the shirt off your body, relishing in the fact that you weren't wearing a bra.

"Your body is so pretty", he sighs out, lazy smile on his face as he seemed like he was talking to himself, making a mental note of how pretty you thought you were. "And so ready for me", he now hummed against your sensitive, hardened nipple as he wrapped his lips around it, giving it a nice, gentle suck; Max loved hearing you whimper like that, a sign that he was doing everything right.

When your hand reached for his cock, palming it through his underwear, Max stopped, his breath hitching in his throat before looking at you, aroused and slightly glad you were considering his pleasure as well; however, now was not the time. "Y/N, it's my turn to make you feel good", he gently told you, taking your hand off his shaft, which you were sure throbbed under your very touch. "We'll.. we'll do me later, yeah? I want to make you feel good." He continues pressing soft kisses on your body, enjoying how you shuddered merely from his lips, and how your hands went in his hair to give it a gentle tug.

Max's hair smelled like shampoo, soft and silky under your touch, as you had two handfuls of the blonde locks in your very hands. He hums in response, nearly bewildered internally at the fact that so little did so much to you, and made sure he'll make you do more than just tug on the strands.

When he got low enough, Max switched positions with you, his large hands setting you on the bed just where he was sitting moments ago — he got on his stomach, pressing his lips against the material of your underwear. The teasing came to a halt when he tugged it down completely, discarding it somewhere, and the sight alone made Max grow harder, his aching cock pressed against the mattress, and he tasked himself just how he'd managed to be together with someone so beautiful. If perfect wasn't the right word to describe a human being, he coined that term just for you, and you only, ever since he laid eyes on you.

"So wet, schat", Max exhaled on your clit, and you sighed out, the hot air from his mouth blowing right against your sensitive spot. Prying your legs open further and holding onto your thighs, Max dove deeper up against your clit, licking long strands with the flat of his tongue and alternating with the tip, then moving upwards to your nub, giving it a gentle suck. He wasn't surprised when you moaned out loud, but rather entranced — one of his hands left your thigh and got to rubbing the bundle of nerves as he lapped hungrily at your clit. "You taste so good, Y/N. So good for me, letting me make you feel this good", he groaned out, getting pleasure just from eating you out, feeling his underwear stain with drips of precum. "Fuck— so sweet, so fucking good f'me, so perfect, Y/N" — if words didn't make you feel anything, now they did, because Max's tone of voice was nearly desperate; not to get himself off, but to make you come on his tongue and face.

Out of instinct, your hips thrusted forward, something you've never done — Max's words have never had this much of an effect on you, not that they didn't — and his eyes widened in silent amazement, looking up at you with a slight chuckle. "Feels good, hm?" He gives you a teasing lick up your clit, looking right in your eyes as he did so, enjoying how flushed your face was and how your eyes closed as soon as his tongue made contact with the sensitive area. "Mhmm.. Max, please, I want to come," you pleaded, and he complied.

"Anything for my champion. Anything f'you, schatje⁴", Max moaned against your clit, moving down as his tongue penetrated your cunt, feeling how wet you were and how much more wet you can get, the warmth of your insides sending delicious sparks right down to his cock. "Y/N, so fucking good..." He hushed against your entrance, tongue then going in and out at a faster pace while his digits were working on your nub, thumb rubbing in circles until you couldn't take it anymore, screaming out his name and coming on his mouth and tongue.

The Dutch hummed in appreciation of his own skills, then looking up at your fucked out expression with a teasing look, placing one last kiss on your puffy clit despite your whimpers, still oversensitive. When he kissed you, his tongue sliding in your mouth to massage yours, you could feel your taste on his buds, and it made you ache yet more, legs closing in to squeeze your thighs from the overall sensation. Max noticed — he hummed against you, fingers going down to your pussy and then right inside of you, coating them with slick as they pumped in and out.

You broke the kiss through erratic whimpers, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations, but you had to admit that Max's fingers, now curling against your G-spot, felt better than his tongue, reaching so much further inside you — he breathily whispered in your ear, his other hand toying with your nipple, "You like it, hm? Vind je het leuk hoe ik je neuk, schat?⁵", and you let out an almost audible 'yes', hearing him chuckle to himself. "C'mon, Y/N, take it like a champ, huh? Like the champion you are. So pretty, my pretty Y/N."

Before you know it, you came a second time around his fingers, and the Dutch fucked you through another of your orgasms, then taking his fingers out of your hole to lick them clean almost obscenely, making a slight 'mmf' sound when his taste buds made contact with your juices.

"Think you can take me now?" Giving him a nod, he continues, "You deserve me, you deserve my whole cock, huh, liefde?", Max lowly spoke, his voice getting breathier as he takes off his underwear; his cock, aching and as hard as it could get, was leaking small drips of pre-cum, and he sighed at the feeling of not having his obvious arousal confined any longer.

"'m so hard for you, Y/N." He aligned himself to your cunt, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. "God, so good, so perfect — all mine, my champion, yeah?" You nod, but that wasn't enough; Max took his cock in his hand again, slapping your clit with it and earning a muffled whine from you. "Say it. Come on, schat." He encourages you.

"I'm... I'm all yours, Max- your champion, I'm your champion", you made the effort to sound self-reassuring, to which Max kissed your forehead, responding with a soothing pitch in his voice.

"You are, Y/N. I'm so proud of you. For everything you have done and for everything that you are, I'm proud of you, yeah?" He peppered you with kisses, slowly entering inside you, and you gasp — getting used to Max was a repetitive mannerism, as he'd stretch you out oh so nicely around his cock. You felt it throb as Max's balls hit right under your cunt, and he kept gasping and whispering in your ear about how much he loves you — and you loved him, too.

As soon as you adjusted to his size, Max started moving his hips, pulling out just enough to leave the tip inside you then slam back inside — no, the domineering, rough side of him didn't remain in the paddock as intended. Soon enough, the bed creaked with both of your bodies' movements alone — the wooden headboard of the hotel bed hitting the wall whenever the Dutch would thrust inside of you, deeper, faster.

"There we go", Max spoke in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, his voice having dropped to a mere, husky whisper — "Vind je dit leuk, mijn liefste?⁶" His hands found your legs, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he kept fucking you, so sweetly but roughly, making sure you'd feel today's win for days after this.

You let out a shaky moan at the mixture of feelings — anger from earlier, dissipating in the overwhelming pleasure and sensitivity, as Max had fucked you raw through the build-up of another orgasm. Looking up at him, his entranced expression, how he looked so ready to let loose and fill you up with his cum, was so arousing, and you couldn't help but reach your hands to cup his jaw, fingers running around the stubble on his face; he gives you a satisfied, self-confident smile, mouth parting exactly when his head falls down, letting out moans of his own.

"Hell, schat, gonna come so deep inside you. Yeah? So proud of you, s'fucking proud, you deserve my cum, all of it, Y/N", Max gasped out, trying to maintain his composure just enough to praise you through it all, to make you feel self-reassured and proud of yourself. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out a guttural moan as he pumped hot, sticky cum inside of you, filling you up — you felt yourself come around his cock, squeezing him of what it's worth, milking him until he couldn't come anymore.

His body fell on top of yours — he still had his tee on, and you were bare naked under him, both sweaty and still recovering from each other's highs. "Ik houd van jou⁷, Y/N. I'm proud of you, yeah?" You heard Max, although muffled from his face being buried in the pillow, right next to your head, and you smiled to yourself, one of his hands finding your hair to caress it, and your hands rubbing on his back gently.

"I love you, too, Max." Indeed, your win was worth celebrating.

TRANSLATED DUTCH WORDS/PHRASES

1 — schat = dear/darling, also translates as 'treasure'

2 — lieverd = also darling, word expressing endearment

3 — liefde = love

4 — schatje = baby

5 — "Do you like how I fuck you, dear?"

6 — "Do you like this, my dear?"

7 — "I love you."

#mv1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #f1 #mv1 smut #mv1 imagine #f1 imagine

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Let’s talk about one of the most underrated dynamics in Yellowjackets: Nat and Tai

Nat and Tai have such a troubled little sister/protective big sister dynamic that is not talked about enough.

Before the crash, there is clearly a lot of tension in Nat and Tai’s relationship. Their personalities clash a bit, as Tai is driven and ambitious while Nat is more reckless and directionless. Tai doesn’t understand Nat’s drug use and promiscuity and openly criticizes her for it. Tai is focused on the success of the team and she sees Nat and her behavior as an obstacle to this success.

However, I think there is some care behind her harsh statements. We can see her tough love approach towards Nat starting to develop. She wants Nat to get better, she just has a gruff way of showing it.

We see Tai begin to develop more of a softness for Nat after the crash. I think, as Tai begins to experience what it feels what it’s like to be in survival mode (and starts to lose control of herself) as Nat has been for most of her life, she begins to understand Nat and her coping mechanisms more.

Another important part of their dynamic is that they were the last two skeptics remaining in the Wilderness. When Natalie would challenge Lottie, Tai was often the first (and only) person to back her up. They are both grounded in pragmatism and logic.

Nat and Tai also have the shared experience of watching their partners “go the the dark side” (AKA join Lottie’s cult). Van and Travis are arguably some of Lottie’s most devoted followers towards the end of Season 2, and both Tai and Nat struggle to grapple with this and the rift it creates in their respective romantic relationships.

After they are rescued, Taissa manages to pick herself back up while Nat falls apart, and their little sister/big sister dynamic grows even more as a result. Tai pays for Nat’s rehab, tries to keep her away from Travis because she knows he’s bad for her, keeps pulling her back up and trying to keep her on her feet. I think it says a lot that Tai is the first person Nat thinks to call when she’s arrested.

And then, of course, there’s the scene where Tai defends her decision to pay for Nat’s rehab and continue to try to keep her clean. This scene breaks my heart and shows the caretaker role Taissa has taken on for Nat after the crash. She understands why Nat copes the way she does, and she knows that, unlike Shauna and herself, Nat doesn’t have a support system to rely on.

Even when Nat is being crowned as the new AQ I feel like you can see the concern on Tai’s face. Tai pledges her support of Nat’s new leadership, but you can tell she is also wary of the burden being placed on Nat, and how that might affect her.

Tai’s face is somber like she’s worried about her, but she gives Nat’s hand a small little squeeze of reassurance.

Anyways, I just love how Nat and Tai’s relationship transforms and grows over time. Tai has an empathy and care for Nat that the other survivors just don’t seem to have. I can’t wait to see more of their dynamic post-rescue as Tai struggles to keep Nat afloat and pick up the pieces after her toxic stints with Travis.

This has been way longer than I intended it to be, I’ll just leave y’all with this last clip of Nat giving petulant little sister vibes with Tai that I absolutely love…

#yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #taissa turner #van palmer #travis martinez #tainat #tai turner #nat scatorccio

[athenagranted]

actually i'm still thinking about that part of oliver's zach sang interview where he says that he doesn't think of buck as a queer character, he thinks of him as a character that is queer, who has a fully fleshed out personality and a multitude of important characteristics and who has flaws and makes mistakes, just like any real, human person. he's not that bisexual character we shoved in there for representation's sake. he's evan buckley, and his bisexuality is important and undeniable but it's not the only thing that makes him buck. that makes him so loved.

i love it because that's always how 911 has approached queerness, right from the very beginning. when i think of hen, her being a black lesbian isn't the first thing that comes to mind. what comes to mind is her brilliance and her compassion towards the people that she treats. it's the understanding with which she approaches the world. it's how fiercely protective she is of her friends and her loved ones. it's her devotion towards her wife and her family. it's her complicated feelings towards her past and the way that she's learned to heal from the scars that were left. however, hen's identity as a black lesbian is always present. it's never ignored or minimized and the show never tries to diminish how those aspects of who she is would impact her life. her identity as a black woman and a queer woman is always relevant and has played a huge part in making her who she is, but it's never, ever been her sole defining characteristic. she is a fully fledged character, and her queerness has always been allowed to exist and take up space without taking away from anything else that makes her hen.

that is always how representation should be done and i'm so grateful that it's been the norm on 911 right from day one. i'm so grateful for this show, and the love and care with which they've treated our queer characters — hen, karen, michael, david, josh, that beautiful older gay couple that quite literally defined love on this show, that sweet woman who just wanted to pass her driving test, the guy who ended up with a tapeworm in his ass because he couldn't stop eating sushi, tommy, and now, evan buckley. a character that has been so loved right from the very beginning and now gets to discover this new part of himself that brings him so much joy and so much relief. despite the hurdles they've had to face, the people making this show have given so much to their queer audience and i'm just....so grateful that we get to witness the love they have for us. they really said. we see you. there is a space for you here. come and embrace it.

#I'M EMOTIONAL!!!!! #I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH #rae.txt #911 #my commentary #evan buckley #hen wilson

[ladyempty]

Yandere Maegor, Daemon and Aegon I reaction to Reader running away and marrying someone else and having children?? Please 😭😭

Aegon I

Aegon Targaryen I is the definition of a conqueror, courageous, intelligent and ambitious, with a friendly and captivating personality, easily lovable and admirable, but with few close friends. A certain air of enigma surrounded his figure, making people try to unravel him, attracted like moths by his light of monarchical dignity.

The king was comfortable and accustomed to sycophants, women dragging themselves for crumbs, or simply a single night in his bed. He was unfamiliar with something denied to him. He had "conqueror" in his name for a reason that went far beyond the submission of the other lords.

So it came as a complete shock when he was so bluntly denied when he approached you at one of the numerous banquets hosted by the royal family. At first, Aegon couldn't even process it, the features remained the same with a gentle smile and analyzing eyes and no words uttered. Like a person who was suddenly punched and in the first few seconds didn't understand or simply didn't know how to react. He just narrowed his purple eyes and watched you leave in an elegant bow.

The first time he was seriously denied, you hadn't done it to pique his interest, but rather to preserve your own honor, not wanting to be just another king's case knowing that he would return to Rhaenys at the end of the day. He admired this. If his plans were to push him away, you were not successful, you only made a dangerous obsession settle in your being.

He began to pursue you subtly, with gallant and courteous gestures, he urgently wanted to erase the first impression you had of him. Forcing the Targaryen to reveal his personality beyond the superficial, rambling for countless hours about some common interest and constantly summoning his presence, whether to read to him while I work or simply enjoy his warm presence.

And when his barriers were still not lowered, the king had to resort to more drastic measures, asking for her hand in marriage and making it clear that he would not accept being denied.

You would be softer when you were a wife and had duties towards him. The conqueror thought wrongly. Never in a thousand lifetimes did he expect you to run away. As soon as he found out, Aegon simply went crazy, the image made up of himself falling down the moment he threatened to destroy the entire seven kingdoms again if he didn't get you back.

Stone by stone, leaf by leaf. Everything was meticulously investigated by the countless guards spreading even through the most forgotten places by the gods. The Targaryen king became somewhat paranoid and easily irritated by his disappearance, not even Rhaenys could calm him down or change his mind. It was two years of pure torment.

Ah... When he finally found you in a small house in pentos... Married and obviously pregnant... It was like the world was open beneath your feet again. A loving feeling of betrayal. How dare you? Did you think that pathetic man could love you more than him?! How stupid.

He coldly killed her husband and none of her tears and pleas could change his mind. His heart was partially darkened by his betrayal. He won't forget anytime soon, you'll have to regain his trust to have the slightest amount of freedom. Countless guards will follow you closely, if you are even allowed to leave your quarters.

And your son? Don't worry, Aegon will assume paternity of the child even if it comes with rumors about having deflowered you before the wedding. It didn't matter. He just wouldn't let you mother a bastard or have that other man as a part of your life. Aenys was his heir anyway.

Maegor, The Cruel

You were certainly a very unlucky person to have caught the attention of the Targaryen king who was called cruel. You probably met at an event organized by him to celebrate one of his conquests, reaffirming his power and sovereignty as king, or you were one of his wives' ladies-in-waiting.

Whether you were from a big house, small house or even a commoner. It didn't matter. You were his the moment the king laid eyes on your enchanting figure.

Maegor was a man of few feelings, he didn't truly love any of his wives, it was lust mixed with the rational thought of creating heirs. But you were different, there was something special that made Maegor feel a bubbling sensation in his chest, a pleasant and addictive warmth like he had never felt before. It was something unfamiliar, one that he felt slightly hesitant to demonstrate or how to handle. But he just knew he wanted you and he would have you. At any cost.

Maegor was far from the definition of courteous, he knew little about the gallant arts or gentle love. Therefore, he had little knowledge about the courtship, the little he knew was from his mother's advice, who only knew about these things from the poets who surrounded Rhaenys.

Either way, he is not discreet. He doesn't even make an effort to appear less intimidating than he is. His eyes are fixed on you no matter the moment, his intimidating and darkening presence looming over you like a shadow. Once he even gave him a white fur coat, an animal he himself killed. It was his way of showing his interest. Something raw and rustic, without words, just proves to be worthy of you.

Either way, he wouldn't wait long. The moment he gets tired of waiting and the itch that grows in him is not relieved, he will attack. Demanding her hand in marriage from her, leaving no room for disagreement. He didn't expect you to run away in the middle of the night... Stupid little bird. Did you think he wouldn't come after you?

The man flew into a rage the moment he found out, destroying everything and everyone in his path, no matter if they were his wives, servants or important masters. Everyone should pay for his blinding rage. He turned the seven kingdoms into hell looking for you. A thick layer of blood, smoke, ash and corpse covering every corner of the kingdom.

And when he found you... Ah, dumb little bird, did he think he could hide for another year? Never.

He killed her husband the moment he saw the man, not even bothering to give him a painful death to pay for his crimes. He was as furious as a bull at the sight of any trace of red. He never thought about seriously hurting you, but he would have to punish you in a certain way to put you in your place. But his angry thoughts strayed the moment he caught sight of her swollen belly with a child.

A baby, that could and should be his. It was someone else's... It was an unforgivable betrayal. He could never fully forgive you. He would never forget or leave you alone for even a second.

He wouldn't kill the child, he would keep you away until you gave birth and then pretend that the child belonged to his lady-in-waiting, even if it was his child behind closed doors. It was a good way to keep tabs on you. Do you love your child? So better obey, you don't want something bad to happen, right?

Do not worry, dear. If you want to be a mother and wife so much, who would Maegor be to deny you that? You would be two things very soon.

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon was never a man to love madly, he fell in love a few times. He rolled from bed to bed without a fixed commitment, just looking for momentary fun and vague pleasures. He indulged in his desires without shame. Bad luck for you to have been so captivating. He was hooked on you the moment their eyes met his.

Any slight affection he ever had for other women and men was forgotten. For you he felt love. Real love that went beyond lust. After all, he had never touched you intimately and he already had such overwhelming feelings.What was it if not love? You were his only thought.The first thought when waking up and the last when going to bed.

And Daemon had no intention of hiding his affection. His hands constantly find their way to your shoulders or start from your waist, a touch that lingers on a simple handshake and a look so intense that it would make anyone else tremble in fear.

As expected, rumors were created questioning his honor and how terrible the prince was. When his father went to confront him, Daemon just smiled mischievously and just said he would marry you. To everyone's great surprise, after all, the Targaryen had demonstrated his unhappiness during his first marriage.

But you weren't like that woman uglier than a sheep. You were perfect in every aspect and in the very definition of the word. Something to be admired every day.

It was a strong, stunning blow when you disappeared during the night, your maids only finding cold, wrinkled sheets when they went to wake you up that morning.

Where in the seven hell were you? He would find you... You couldn't run away.

He destroyed, killed, tortured and threatened. He spent days flying with Caraxes to every corner of the seven kingdoms just to find you. Unsuccessfully. A long year without having your favorite addiction... You.

He drowned himself in e wine while you were gone, nursing a bubbling rage and constantly exploding at everyone, scaring even Viserys, who thought he had seen the worst side of his brother.

But nothing lasts forever. He found you. He invaded your home in Essos without hesitation. He didn't kill your husband at first because his stunned mind simply refused to understand that you had betrayed him in such a disgusting way.

But the moment she saw the little newborn baby in her arms. He understood everything.The black sister ran through her pathetic husband without mercy, blood spatter staining his robes in small crimson droplets.The cold, darkened eyes like never before were directed at you.

For a moment you feared for the baby's life, placing the small bundle against your chest to protect it.

"Don't worry, I would never hurt our son." He smiles as he says each word slowly. He would legitimize that child as his and didn't care what he would say. A good way to keep you behaved and not tarnish his bloodline with bastards. Obviously he would love his own children more with you, but he wouldn't show it so openly. You're lucky the child looks so much like you…

#yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #Yandere Maegor Targaryen #maegor Targaryen x reader #aegon the conqueror #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #Aegon the conqueror x Reader

[sweetnsour1]

10:53:01

Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader

Part 1 of 2

“You’re kidding.”  

“Why would I be kidding?” His tone had shifted. You could hear his brows and eyes furrowing at the strangled laugh you had shakily exhaled. 

“How did you find out?” He had to be fucking with you. 

“Um, the mission briefing...like usual?”  

“What?” Shit, so he wasn’t fucking with you. You blinked away tears of frustration already threatening to leak into your voice. Stupid. 

“Huh?”  

“So, you’re really leaving?”  

“Have to, beautiful.”  

“But...” 

“Yea, I know. I’ll miss you too.” His tone was getting softer with every awkward response you choked out. 

“No, I mean...” You let the words trail off. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten the meaning behind this quickly approaching date. Your brain couldn’t even craft a way to bring it up without whining. You couldn’t do it. “Just be safe, okay?” 

“The hell do ya think I am? I’m always safe.” 

“Safer than your version of safe, please.” Your tone was firm as it delivered the familiar words, a ritual every time he left for a mission.

The memory of the first time you’d made the request came to you easily. He was in the doorway of your office, backing out, bumping his wide shoulders into the frame as he failed to smoothly exit. Red spread across the skin directly below his mask. You had thought you had overstepped, maybe he was upset that you questioned his performance. Your head had tiled to the side in confusion when instead he only said, “Yes, ma’am.” He landed a smack against the head of the blonde hero snickering behind him as he walked off, mumbling something about shutting up.  

“Mmm.” You smiled. Maybe he was thinking of that day too.  

“‘Mmm’ isn’t a promise.” 

“I’ll be back before Saturday. Promise.” 

“Back with all the parts you left with.” 

“Ya gonna’ love me less if I don’t?” His words were obviously being spoken through a smile now, or a smirk more likely. 

“Depends on what you lose.” A part of you melts at the chuckle let loose in your ear.  

“Bullshit.” 

“Mhmm.” You’re quick to agree but want to hear him laugh again. “If you come back hurt, I’ll just kick your ass for not listening to me.” 

‘What if I come back without an ass?” His laugh is cut short as you hear a familiar voice inform him how that would be highly unlikely to count as coming back safe. The tone on the other end gets harsher as he tells the man with him to mind his damn business. You roll your eyes at the familiar sounds of bickering bubbling between the two heroes. You pull Katsuki’s attention back to you as you catch the sound of Deku’s mediating attempts only pacifying Todoroki.  

“Don’t you have a flight to catch?” 

“Yea.” You quirk an eyebrow at the leftover hostility worming its way into his conversation with you. He hears it too, coughing back to a gentler version before he continues. “I’ll see you Saturday, beautiful.” 

“See you Saturday.” Your words fall forward in a mumble towards the screen already reminding you that you’d ended the call. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Fuck.” 

You rolled your head forward; thankful it was still early enough in the day to start making all the calls you’d need to. You did a few of those dumb square breaths that your therapist swore by. It was annoying that it helped. A feline reminiscent stretch was the only other action you took before opening the most frequently used document saved on your phone. The twinge of regret at the sight of the bright orange header was promptly shoved aside as you began scrolling down to the vendors’ contact info. By the third call, you had quite a script ready to go as soon as someone picked up: Hello, sorry to bother you right before closing. I actually have you guys booked for the event tomorrow night. There’s been a change of plans and I would like you to deliver the (whatever they were in charge of) to (whatever organization could use it) as a donation instead of delivering anything to the venue. After that, it was always a short confirmation of details before you dialed the next number on the list.  

The biggest loss was the venue...no, that was wrong. The biggest loss was not being able to get Bakugou’s birthday right AGAIN. You really weren’t sure anymore if the blame was with you or the universe or maybe Bakugou was a villain whose only agenda was to thwart your birthday attempts. Well, you were pretty sure it was you, but it was way past ridiculous at this point. His birthday had been a disaster or disaster adjacent every year since you’d started dating.  

There was the first one where you got flustered when he had the audacity to go for the first kiss, getting you flustered enough to drop his gift, a very not waterproof limited edition and vintage All Might card, off the bridge and into the river. The next involved a mistake where you accidentally had Kirishima drop him off at the wrong address...not realizing there were two locations for the restaurant you two had your first date at. The one after, you ended up hospitalized for just a few days, missing his birthday completely because your dumb ass didn’t wake up in time. Although he technically had spent it with you, you just weren’t conscious. You both had work the one after that, so not really your fault on that one. But you did forget his present at the office and so ended up giving it to him the day after, so that part was your fault. 

He was always annoyingly understanding about the trouble you ended up causing on the one day every year that you wanted to be the least troublesome. He would just laugh it off, thanking you for an unforgettable day. He’d call you cute or sweet or a menace. He’d say his birthday wasn’t anything to stress about.  

His words would be so much easier to accept if he didn’t seem to feel differently when it came to your birthday. He never gave a gift late or damaged or less than perfect. He never messed up the date or time or location. He never forgot any part of his plans or goals for the day. It was always irritatingly more than what you would’ve imagined or expected. Not that birthdays were a contest, but...if they were, you were fucking losing badly.  

You slid your phone further across the counter after your last call. This was supposed to be the year you got it right. You’d even enlisted a dangerous amount of help for a surprise party: Kirishima to keep Bakugou from finding out, the head assistant at their agency to get the scheduling information just right, Mina was charged with the guest list, Kaminari and Sero were assigned the entertainment (with final approval from you after a near x-rated disaster). You even had Midoriya help you decide on a present.  

Everything was finally going to be perfect. You were so determined. You had even stupidly begun to feel safe in your victory. The party was supposed to be tomorrow. And now, he wouldn’t be back for nine days. Fuck. Fuck.  

“Fuck.” 

You pawed at your phone again, sending a quick text to Mina so she could notify the guests of the cancellation. You were already exhausted from the last half hour of calls and just wanted to crawl into the bed that was now dumber and colder and emptier than it was supposed to be. Before burrowing, you sent “code yellow” to the One Brain Cell group chat, following the ridiculous list of emergency code phrases made up by Kaminari. You didn’t think you’d end up using them, but here you were.  

You then finally set your phone aside for real, pretending to set the urge to sulk along with it. This was part of the job. He was needed and that was a priority...helping people should come first (and it always did). Even if a selfish part of you, that seemed to get louder every time he was called away, wanted nothing more than to convince him to stay. The man you were in love with wouldn’t just give up his purpose or his morals like that. Not even for you. It was admirable. As a hero, you loved and respected that. As his girlfriend, it made you feel more jealous and selfish than you would ever admit.  

You would just have to not suck next year.  

Inspired by the request sent in by @mentallyablaze-writes

Masterlist

Part 2 coming soon

#Bakugou #Bakugou fluff #Bakugou x reader #pro hero bakugou #Bakugou imagines #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha Bakugou #bakugou katsuki #fluff

[watermelonlovershigh]

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

Arguments and Confessions {part 2.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: i've been in a writing mood lately so i hope you enjoy me spitting out these stories left and right lol. anyways, here is part 3 to my housemate series. before you ask, yes there will be a part 4 and hopefully a couple more after that. let me know how you liked it and make sure to leave your feedback. thank you and enjoy!

This story contains: mentions of one-night stands, confessions of feelings, slight angst, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - soft!harry - au harry }

word count- 1,372

Harry confesses that you're the women he likes and after giving you some time to think, you have an eventful conversation about your mutual feelings and how you'd like to move forward within your friendship.

Looking deeply in your eyes, Harry answers clearly, "Her name..... her name is Y/n." The weight of his confession leaves you standing in the kitchen, completely shocked. When you initially asked him about his love interest, you never anticipated that he would reveal his feelings for you. Although he described some of your qualities, you didn't think much of it, as many people can possess similar traits.

Realizing that you need some time to process his words, Harry rises from his stool and states, "I don't expect you to feel the same way about me or anything. I'll give you some space to think, alright?" With that, he turns around and retreats back to his bedroom.

Now standing alone in the kitchen, you find yourself torn about what to do. On one hand, the man who kindly allowed you to stay in his home as a housemate, who eventually became your friend, and whom you've developed feelings for, has just confessed his affection for you. It seems like the ideal outcome, but what if something goes wrong? You would risk losing your best friend and a place to live.

On the other hand, if everything goes well, you could finally experience a fulfilling relationship. You could put an end to the casual encounters and truly understand the intimacy that others have experienced in Harry's bed. You would have the opportunity to feel his touch on your skin and savor his kisses, something you had only imagined during fleeting encounters with strangers.

---------------------------

You head to Harry's bedroom and upon reaching his door, you give it a hesitant knock. A soft voice responds with, "Come in." and you take that as your signal to enter. Inside, you find him sitting up in bed with his cat Pixie beside him, and the TV showing old episodes of Friends.

Approaching his bed slowly, Harry gestures for you to sit beside him. After a deep breath, you confess, "I want you to know that I have feelings for you too, Harry. How could I not? You're kind and sweet, and anyone would be foolish not to have a crush on you. But, I'm afraid."

Harry turns off the TV to focus on you. "Afraid of what, Y/n?" he asks, "We both like each other. What's there to fear?"

"It's not that simple, Harry," you respond with a hint of frustration. Why can't he see your concerns? Maybe it's a gender difference. Men don't worry about relationships as much as women do. Well at least from your personal experiences.

"Can you explain then, please? I want to understand your fears so we can move forward in a way that works for both of us."

Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, you express, "Harry, what if things don't work out between us? What happens then? I could lose a friend and I might not have enough money to cover regular rent in London."

"Y/n, our mutual feelings don't automatically require us to rush into a romantic relationship. We can proceed at a comfortable pace, one day at a time. Even if we don't progress beyond friendship, I value our bond too much to risk losin' it. As for your concern about losin' a place to stay, rest assure that I would never evict you if things don't work out romantically. You were my housemate first and foremost, and that won't change. Well, unless you want to move out someday that is."

Hearing his words have made your eyes gloss over. You can hear the sincerity in his voice and it makes your heart swell. But, you still need some clarification to move forward. "So like, where do we go from here, Harry? I don't want to think we're one thing but you assume we're something else. I don't want to constantly be questioning where we stand. What's too much or what's not enough."

Harry adjusts his posture, leaning closer to you. He carefully reaches out for your hands and clasps them within his larger grasp, holding them gently as he begins to speak. "As I mentioned earlier, Y/n, we can take this slow. Let our connection develop naturally. At this moment, I would describe our relationship as friends, but friends who share mutual emotions. And in response to a question I know you may have, no, I will not be sleepin' with anyone else. And I don't expect..."

Anticipating his next words, you swiftly interject, "No, neither am I. I mean, being involved with someone else intimately. I can promise you that. Besides, I never truly enjoyed having one-night stands. I only sought them out as a means to conceal my feelings for you. But now that my feelings are out in the open, there's no reason to hide them any longer. From now on I only want you."

Chuckling in relief, Harry murmurs, "Just me, huh?" He was incredibly anxious that you might still have the desire to sleep with other people, even though that didn't make much sense after you had confessed your feelings for him. However, he couldn't be entirely certain.

You lean forward, wrapping your arms around Harry's body, embracing him tightly. "Of course, Harry. I would never do that to you. Besides, most of the men I slept with were unsatisfactory, so I'm perfectly fine with giving up my one-night stands."

Harry reciprocates the embrace, then teasingly asks, "Unsatisfactory? Are you tellin' me those muscular, macho men you brought home hardly ever satisfied you?"

You respond, your voice filled with affection against his neck, "That's right. And when they did, it was usually because I was thinking of you."

"Alright, let's end that conversation right here or we'll have a problem on our hands and break our 'takin' it slow' rule." Harry remarks, trying to maintain a sense of caution. If you kept talking about how you always thought of him while having sex with all those strangers, he'd get hard in his pants and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable right now. Nor does he want to move that fast. Like he said, he genuinely would like to take whatever you are, slow.

You laugh at his words and playfully say, "Can we take a nap? I'm feeling tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."

Harry nods in the embrace you still hold and replies, "Yeah, we can take a nap if you'd like. I didn't get much sleep last night either."

As you sit up, you carefully shift towards Harry's side where he's preparing a space for you to rest. "Seriously?" you inquire. Although you noticed his exhaustion when he entered the kitchen earlier, you didn't consider that it might be due to a lack of sleep.

"Yeah," Harry begins to coo while helping you under his duvet, "felt awful with how I spoke to you last night. The guilt ate me alive and I couldn't sleep."

Now laying side by side, facing each other, you whisper out, "Awe, well you can rest easy now. I forgive you." As your eyes flutter shut, Harry can't help but think about how you're too far away from him. Even though you're literally just six inches apart in reality.

So without thinking, he draws himself closer to you and wraps you in his arms. Which in turn has you pressed up against his clothed chest. "Is this alright?" Harry whispers quietly. Although he wishes to take things slowly, cuddling is typically considered a leisurely activity, isn't it? It remains innocent and platonic.

"Yes, very much alright." you reply and soon after fall asleep. The musky smell Harry produces along with the warmth of his body lulls you right to sleep. It may be only nine in the morning but with your lack of sleep the night before, have no trouble falling unconscious.

Harry also falls into a deep slumber. The comfort of having you in his arms lulls him into a state of relaxation, leading him to quickly doze off. His cat Pixie has now settled at the foot of the bed, peacefully asleep alongside you both. Harry's once anxious room is now filled with tranquility. The unfolding of your friendship will become more apparent when you wake up later today.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #friend!harry #friendrry #housemate!harry #housematerry #softrry #soft!harry #harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #friends to lovers #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb

[cy-cyborg]

Dealing with Healing and Disability in fantasy: Writing Disability

[ID: An image of the main character from Eragon, a white teenage boy with blond hair in silver armour as he sits, with his hand outstretched. On his hand is a glowing blue mark. He is visibly straining as he attempts to heal a large creature in front of him. /End ID]

I'm a massive fan of the fantasy genre, which is why it's so incredibly frustrating when I see so much resistance to adding disability representation to fantasy works. People's go-to reason for leaving us out is usually something to the effect of "But my setting has magic so disability wouldn't exist, it can just be healed!" so let's talk about magic, specifically healing magic, in these settings, and how you can use it without erasing disability from your story.

Ok, let's start with why you would even want to avoid erasing disability from a setting in the first place. I talked about this in a lot more detail in my post on The Miracle Cure. this line of thinking is another version of this trope, but applied to a whole setting (or at least, to the majority of people in the setting) instead of an individual, so it's going to run into the same issues I discussed there. To summarise the points that are relevant to this particular version of the trope though:

Not every disabled person wants or needs a cure - many of us see our disability as a part of our identity. Do difficulties come with being disabled? absolutely! It's literally part of the definition, but for some people in the disabled community, if you took our disabilities away, we would be entirely different people. While it is far from universal, there is a significant number of us who, if given a magical cure with no strings attached, would not take it. Saying no one in your setting would be disabled because these healing spells exists ignores this part of the community.

It messes with the stakes of your story - Just like how resurrecting characters or showing that this is something that is indeed possible in the setting can leave your audience feeling cheated or like they don't have to worry about a character *actually* ever dying. healing a character's disability, or establishing that disability doesn't exist in your setting because "magic" runs into the same problem. It will leave your readers or viewers feeling like they don't have to worry about your characters getting seriously hurt because it will only be temporary, which means your hero's actions carry significantly less risk, which in turn, lowers the stakes and tension if not handled very, very carefully.

It's an over-used trope - quite plainly and simply, this trope shows up a lot in the fantasy genre, to the point where I'd say it's just overused and kind of boring.

So with the "why should you avoid it" covered, let's look at how you can actually handle the topic.

Limited Access and Expensive Costs

One of the most common ways to deal with healing and disability in a fantasy setting, is to make the healing magic available, but inaccessible to most of the population. The most popular way to do that is by making the services of a magical healer capable of curing a disability really expensive to the point that most people just can't afford it. If this is the approach you're going to use, you also typically have to make that type of magic quite rare. To use D&D terms, if every first level sorcerer, bard, cleric and druid can heal a spinal injury, it's going to result in a lot of people who are able to undercut those massive prices and the expense will drop as demand goes down. If that last sentence didn't give you a hint, this is really popular method in stories that are critiquing capitalistic mindsets and ideologies, and is most commonly used by authors from the USA and other countries with a similar medical system, since it mirrors a lot of the difficulties faced by disabled Americans. If done right, this approach can be very effective, but it does need to be thought through more carefully than I think people tend to do. Mainly because a lot of fantasy stories end with the main character becoming rich and/or powerful, and so these prohibitively expensive cure become attainable by the story's end, which a lot of authors and writer's just never address. Of course, another approach is to make the availability of the magic itself the barrier. Maybe there just aren't that many people around who know the magic required for that kind of healing, so even without a prohibitive price tag, it's just not something that's an option for most people. If we're looking at a D&D-type setting, maybe you need to be an exceptionally high level to cast the more powerful healing spell, or maybe the spell requires some rare or lost material component. I'd personally advise people to be careful using this approach, since it often leads to stories centred around finding a miracle cure, which then just falls back into that trope more often than not.

Just outright state that some characters don't want/need it

Another, admittedly more direct approach, is to make it that these "cures" exist and are easily attainable, but to just make it that your character or others they encounter don't want or need it. This approach works best for characters who are born with their disabilities or who already had them for a long time before a cure was made available to them. Even within those groups though, this method works better with some types of characters than others depending on many other traits (personality, cultural beliefs, etc), and isn't really a one-size-fits-all solution, but to be fair, that's kind of the point. Some people will want a cure for their disabilities, others are content with their body's the way they are. There's a few caveats I have with this kind of approach though:

you want to make sure you, as the author, understand why some people in real life don't want a cure, and not just in a "yeah I know these people exist but I don't really get it" kind of way. I'm not saying you have to have a deep, personal understanding or anything, but some degree of understanding is required unless you want to sound like one of those "inspirational" body positivity posts that used to show up on Instagram back in the day.

Be wary when using cultural beliefs as a reasoning. It can work, but when media uses cultural beliefs as a reason for turning down some kind of cure, it's often intending to critique extreme beliefs about medicine, such as the ones seen in some New Age Spirituality groups and particularly intense Christian churches. As a general rule of thumb, it's probably not a good idea to connect these kinds of beliefs to disabled people just being happy in their bodies. Alternatively, you also need to be mindful of the "stuck in time" trope - a trope about indigenous people who are depicted as primitive or, as the name suggests, stuck in an earlier time, for "spurning the ways of the white man" which usually includes medicine or the setting's equivalent magic. I'm not the best person to advise you on how to avoid this specific trope, but my partner (who's Taino) has informed me of how often it shows up in fantasy specifically and we both thought it was worth including a warning at least so creators who are interested in this method know to do some further research.

Give the "cures" long-lasting side effects

Often in the real world, when a "cure" for a disability does exist, it's not a perfect solution and comes with a lot of side effects. For example, if you loose part of your arm in an accident, but you're able to get to a hospital quickly with said severed arm, it can sometimes be reattached, but doing so comes at a cost. Most people I know who had this done had a lot of issues with nerve damage, reduced strength, reduced fine-motor control and often a great deal of pain with no clear source. Two of the people I know who's limbs were saved ended up having them optionally re-amputated only a few years later. Likewise, I know many people who are paraplegics and quadriplegics via spinal injuries, who were able to regain the use of their arms and/or legs. However, the process was not an easy one, and involved years of intense physiotherapy and strength training. For some of them, they need to continue to do this work permanently just to maintain use of the effected limbs, so much so that it impacts their ability to do things like work a full-time job and engage in their hobbies regularly, and even then, none of them will be able bodied again. Even with all that work, they all still experience reduced strength and reduced control of the limbs. depending on the type, place and severity of the injury, some people are able to get back to "almost able bodied" again - such was the case for my childhood best friend's dad, but they often still have to deal with chronic pain from the injury or chronic fatigue.

Even though we are talking about magic in a fantasy setting, we can still look to real-life examples of "cures" to get ideas. Perhaps the magic used has a similar side effect. Yes, your paraplegic character can be "cured" enough to walk again, but the magic maintaining the spell needs a power source to keep it going, so it draws on the person's innate energy within their body, using the very energy the body needs to function and do things like move their limbs. They are cured, but constantly exhausted unless they're very careful, and if the spell is especially strong, the body might struggle to move at all, resulting in something that looks and functions similar to the nerve damage folks with spinal injuries sometimes deal with that causes that muscle weakness and motor control issues. Your amputee might be able to have their leg regrown, but it will always be slightly off. The regrown leg is weaker and causes them to walk with a limp, maybe even requiring them to use a cane or other mobility aid.

Some characters might decide these trade-offs are worth it, and while this cures their initial disability, it leaves them with another. Others might simply decide the initial disability is less trouble than these side effects, and choose to stay as they are.

Consider if these are actually cures

Speaking of looking to the real world for ideas, you might also want to consider whether these cures are doing what the people peddling them are claiming they do. Let's look at the so-called autism cures that spring up every couple of months as an example.

Without getting into the… hotly debated specifics, there are many therapies that are often labelled as "cures" for autism, but in reality, all they are doing is teaching autistic people how to make their autistic traits less noticeable to others. This is called masking, and it's a skill that often comes at great cost to an autistic person's mental health, especially when it's a behaviour that is forced on them. Many of these therapies give the appearance of being a cure, but the disability is still there, as are the needs and difficulties that come with it, they're just hidden away. From an outside perspective though, it often does look like a success, at least in the short-term. Then there are the entirely fake cures with no basis in reality, the things you'll find from your classic snake-oil salesmen. Even in a fantasy setting where real magic exists, these kinds of scams and misleading treatments can still exist. In fact, I think it would make them even more common than they are in the real world, since there's less suspension of disbelief required for people to fall for them. "What do you mean this miracle tonic is a scam? Phil next door can conjure flames in his hand and make the plants grow with a snap of his fingers, why is it so hard to believe this tonic could regrow my missing limb?"

I think the only example of this approach I've seen, at least recently, is from The Owl House. The magic in this world can do incredible things, but it works in very specific and defined ways. Eda's curse (which can be viewed as an allegory for many disabilities and chronic illnesses) is seemingly an exception to this, and as such, nothing is able to cure it. Treat it, yes, but not cure it. Eda's mother doesn't accept this though, and seeks out a cure anyway and ends up falling for a scam who's "treatments" just make things worse.

In your own stories, you can either have these scams just not work, or kind of work, but in ways that are harmful and just not worth it, like worse versions of the examples in the previous point. Alternatively, like Eda, it's entirely reasonable that a character who's been the target of these scams before might just not want to bother anymore. Eda is a really good example of this approach handled in a way that doesn't make her sad and depressed about it either. She's tried her mum's methods, they didn't work, and now she's found her own way of dealing with it that she's happy with. She only gets upset when her boundaries are ignored by Luz and her mother.

Think about how the healing magic is actually working

If you have a magic system that leans more on the "hard magic" side of things, a great way to get around the issue of healing magic erasing disability is to stop and think about how your healing magic actually works.

My favourite way of doing this is to make healing magic work by accelerating the natural processes of your body. Your body will, given enough time (assuming it remains infection-free) close a slash from a sword and mend a broken bone, but it will never regrow it's own limbs. It will never heal damage to it's own spinal cord. It will never undo whatever causes autism or fix it's own irregularities. Not without help. Likewise, healing magic alone won't do any of these things either, it's just accelerating the existing process and usually, by extension making it safer, since a wound staying open for an hour before you get to a healer is much less likely to get infected than one that slowly and naturally heals over a few weeks. In one of my own works, I take this even further by making it that the healing magic is only accelerating cell growth and repair, but the healer has to direct it. In order to actually heal, the healer needs to know the anatomy of what they're fixing to the finest detail. A spell can reconnect a torn muscle to a bone, but if you don't understand the structures that allow that to happen in the first place, you're likely going to make things worse. For this reason, you won't really see people using this kind of magic to, say, regrow limbs, even though it technically is possible. A limb is a complicated thing. The healer needs to be able to perfectly envision all the bones, the cartilage, the tendons and ligaments, the muscles (including the little ones, like those found in your skin that make your hair stand on end and give you goose bumps), the fat and skin tissues, all the nerves, all the blood vessels, all the structures within the bone that create your blood. Everything, and they need to know how it all connects, how it is supposed to move and be able to keep that clearly in their mind simultaneously while casting. Their mental image also has to match with the patient's internal "map" of the body and the lost limb, or they'll continue to experience phantom limb sensation even if the healing is successful. It's technically possible, but the chances they'll mess something up is too high, and so it's just not worth the risk to most people, including my main character.

Put Restrictions on the magic

This is mostly just the same advice as above, but for softer magic systems. put limits and restrictions on your healing magic. These can be innate (so things the magic itself is just incapable of doing) or external (things like laws that put limitations on certain types of magic and spells).

An example of internal restriction can be seen in how some people interpret D&D's higher level healing spells like regenerate (a 7th level spell-something most characters won't have access to for quite some time). The rules as written specify that disabilities like lost limbs can be healed using this spell, but some players take this to mean that if a character was born with the disability in question, say, born without a limb, regenerate would only heal them back to their body's natural state, which for them, is still disabled.

An external restriction would be that your setting has outlawed healing magic, perhaps because healing magic carries a lot of risks for some reason, eithe to the caster or the person being healed, or maybe because the healing magic here works by selectively reviving and altering the function of cells, which makes it a form of necromancy, just on a smaller scale. Of course, you can also use the tried and true, "all magic is outlawed" approach too. In either case, it's something that will prevent some people from being able to access it, despite it being technically possible. Other external restrictions could look like not being illegal, per say, but culturally frowned upon or taboo where your character is from.

But what if I don't want to do any of this?

Well you don't have to. These are just suggestions to get you thinking about how to make a world where healing magic and disability exist, but they aren't the only ways. Just the ones I thought of.

Of course, if you'd still rather make a setting where all disability is cured because magic and you just don't want to think about it any deeper, I can't stop you. I do however, want to ask you to at least consider where you are going to draw the line. Disability, in essence, is what happens when the body stops (or never started) functioning "normally". Sometimes that happens because of an injury, sometimes it's just bad luck, but the boundary between disabled and not disabled is not as solid as I think a lot of people expect it to be, and we as a society have a lot of weird ideas about what is and isn't a disability that just, quite plainly and simply, aren't consistent. You have to remember, a magic system won't pick and choose the way we humans do, it will apply universally, regardless of our societal hang-ups about disability.

What do I mean about this?

Well, consider for a moment, what causes aging? it's the result of our body not being able to repair itself as effectively as it used to. It's the body not being able to perform that function "normally". So in a setting where all disability is cured, there would be no aging. No elderly people. No death from old age. If you erase disability, you also erase natural processes like aging. magic won't pick and choose like that, not if you want it to be consistent.

Ok, ok, maybe that's too much of a stretch, so instead, let's look at our stereotypical buff hero covered in scars because he's a badass warrior. but in a world where you can heal anything, why would anything scar? Even if it did, could another healing spell not correct that too? Scars are part of the body's natural healing process, but if no natural healing occurred, why would a scar form? Scars are also considered disabling in and of themselves too, especially large ones, since they aren't as flexible or durable as normal skin and can even restrict growth and movement.

Even common things like needing glasses are, using this definition of disability at least, a disability. glasses are a socially accepted disability aid used to correct your eyes when they do not function "normally".

Now to be fair, in reality, there are several definitions of disability, most of which include something about the impact of society. For example, in Australia (according to the Disability Royal Commission), we define disability as "An evolving concept that results from the interaction between a person with impairment(s) and attitudinal and environmental barriers that hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." - or in laymen's terms, the interaction between a person's impairment and societal barriers like people not making things accessible or holding misinformed beliefs about your impairment (e.g. people in wheelchairs are weaker than people who walk). Under a definition like this, things like scars and needing glasses aren't necessarily disabilities (most of the time) but that's because of how our modern society sees them. The problem with using a definition like this though to guide what your magic system will get rid of, is that something like a magic system won't differentiate between an "impairment" that has social impacts that and one that doesn't. It will still probably get rid of anything that is technically an example of your body functioning imperfectly, which all three of these things are. The society in your setting might apply these criteria indirectly, but really, why would they? Very few people like the side effects of aging on the body (and most people typically don't want to die), the issues that come with scars or glasses are annoying (speaking as someone with both) and I can see a lot of people getting rid of them when possible too. If they don't then it's just using the "not everyone wants it approach" I mentioned earlier. If there's some law or some kind of external pressure to push people away from fixing these more normalised issues, then it's using the "restrictions" method I mentioned earlier too.

Once again, you can do whatever you like with your fantasy setting, but it's something I think that would be worth thinking about at least.

#Writing disability with Cy Cyborg #Long Post #Disability #Disabled #Disability Representation #Writing Disability #Writing #Writeblr #Authors #Creators #Writing Advice #Disabled Characters #On Writing #Disability in Media #Tropes #Disability Tropes #magic #fantasy #worldbuilding #magic systems

[waitmyturtles]

GMMTV 2024 Part 2, let's go

I've had my MULTIPLE cawfees and I'm watching the GMMTV Part 2 trailers. @my-rose-tinted-glasses, this one's for you!

TL;DR what I'm excited for: Ossan's Love with trepidation; Revamp: The Undead, I'm first in line; The Ex-Morning with open arms; Us, once we have a better sense of the screenplay; Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist, drop it like it's hot, Mark; Thame-Po, boys look gewd

****

1) Ossan's Love: THE KEY WORDS BEING "INSPIRED BY"

If I take away the inclination to do any sort of comparisons to the Japanese version whatsoever ("INSPIRED BY"), I'm thrilled that EarthMix get to do romcom. Earth at this level of baka is utterly unbelievable to me, you are too smokin' hot, boy, but try to bring it, because if you do, and it's a success, then I'll be fucking really impressed.

2) Leap Day: Looks scary. Gun!

3) The Heart Killers: ...

Man. Man! First in muscle shirts and an earring, kisses pushed up against walls, etc. Where have we seen this before. Lemme guess, they all get together in the end. I would like to force myself to be excited about this somehow, Jojo on 10 Things, but. I haven't been there with JoongDunk yet, either, so actually, they seemed kinda refreshing against the FK vibes, ha. Anyway, this reignited my OF burnout, which I'm honestly trying to ignore as I get close to re-watching The Eclipse for my Old GMMTV Challenge project. @my-rose-tinted-glasses, my trust issues switch is flipped to "on."

(Get Jojo away from ships, please. He had Tay kissing Joss and Mild in the same year AFTER Dark Blue Kiss. He fucking doesn't need to use ships.)

4) Friendshit Forever: no subs, seems intense, the gals are smokin', NEW AND BOUN?! Hate to say it, but even without knowing what this is exactly about, I'm intrigued? My Boun! New and Boun!

5) Perfect 10 Liners: They're letting New Siwaj do 30 episodes, folks. I have no predictions on this one, y'all will have to tell me if it's good. Perth is back with New Siwaj directing after 2018's Love By Chance. If they give Chimon a little comedy, I'll be happy. I asked for Junior again, but maybe I wasn't expecting him to go to school, but I will admit I like JuniorMark together, and if they get to helm 10 episodes as the center stars, then good for them! Maybe that'll be the bit of this series that I watch.

6) Us: I believe in this screenplay more than how 23.5 is working out. I think Fon Kanittha needs more stuff on her plate to play around with to make a great show. This trailer was great. I'm watching My Precious the Series now (after having watched the movie this past weekend, which I was disappointed by -- the series is MUCH better, and going better than 23.5), and I'm seeing that Fon does stuff very well, background community building that gives us macro- and micro-level understandings of her characters. If those levels are Sing Harit, I'm here for it, that was an unexpected appearance, but if he's recalling the strength he brought to Todd in Not Me, then I'm a happy camper.

7) Hide and Sis: I love Piploy. Wednesday Club was a total holiday trash watch for me last year, but I loved her a lot. Looks like they're promoting this as a multi-generational show with known older actors, the approach of which I like. Everyone hates each other and maybe tries to kill each other; Keeping Up With the Thai Kardashians, maybe? Surprise, Gawin's a cop. Chimon as murderer, I'll support that.

8) Thame-Po: This looks cute. I'll consider a pre-order! Separately, I happen to adore cute Lego from LYKN, so good on those dudes for getting a show, and I like that William is pushing his boundaries outside of music.

9) Break-Up Service: I am happy that Off has gotten this kind of sneaky love romcom (?) role.

10) Revamp: The Undead: I'm here for it. I'm so happy for BounPrem. I'm happy to see some strong support dudes in Kay and Mark in this project. I haven't watched My Only 12%, so I don't know from Santa, but I know a lot of friends love him. I am totally seated. GMMTV is really the BL Machine, huh, absorbing this project.

11) Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist: Do not get me wrong, I am very excited about this; I am just wondering if Baby Ohm needs a little workshopping to get more diversity in his expressions. But I am very excited, Mark looks SO DOWN and ready to lead. View! Jimmy! I'm good with this.

12) The Dark Dice: High School Squid Game, I can't

13) The Ex-Morning: I gotta admit. This kind of moment is one of the reasons why I'm so happy doing the OGMMTVC. The big-ass smile I had on my face seeing KristSingto again, even though I really wasn't the biggest fan of SOTUS -- I've done a whole accountability turn on Krist after seeing him in Be My Favorite, and I appreciate that this show will go meta on the KristSingto background. It fucking sucks that Shadow sucked, because Singto is such a good actor, just seems like his scripts are here and there lately, but anyway. Aof Noppharnach writing this? Last Twilight ended cringe, but I'm still an Aof girlie, so I am 100% excited for this.

14) Scarlet Heart Thailand: That wasn't really a trailer, but considering the reputation the base story has in Asia and globally, I like, business-wise, what this means for GMMTV, a historical that will have appeal to multiple generations. I understand the original novel for this, Bu Bu Jing Xin, isn't translated into English, and that's a bummer, because it seems like this Thai version, which has already been dramatized in China and Korea, is based squarely on the novel. Fuck Win. These were the kinds of shows I loved as a kid when I watched Asian shows with my folks, so I have to admit that I'm intrigued, but I would have liked to see a meatier trailer.

That's it!

#gmmtv part 2 #scarlet heart thailand #the ex-morning #the dark dice #sweet tooth good dentist #revamp the undead #break-up service #us the series #thame po #hide and sis #perfect 10 liners #friendshit forever #leap day the series #ossan's love japan #i am not tagging that jojo show for my damn safety #y'all will have to tell me if that show is worth watching

[cvntyworld]

Heyy, idk how this works but would you be willing to write for the ghoul but write it as platonic, maybe the reader is some kid and steals from him or something like that, kind of like a funny dynamic where he wants to kill reader for real but can't till he figures out where his shit is first.

klepto ( the ghoul / cooper howard )

summary: you had a rule to being a thief, do not ever get caught and you were doing well until you decided to be a little more bold and steal from a ghoul, snatching away a ring he was carrying in his pocket and lets just say that he wanted it back, too bad you'd already sold it.

contents: usual fallout shenanigans, platonic relationship, violence, reader gets the shit scared out of them, cooper breaking into their house, stealing, mild language, reader is held at gun point, cooper threatens to chop the readers hands off for stealing, threat, reader knocks coopers hat off and insults him, ect...

Stealing was easy if you knew how to do it right. You had come from a family of thieves, your daddy was one but a terrible one at that, got his hands chopped off when he'd stolen an extra bag of rations, the greedy bastard. That's what got him killed, bleeding out and crying and he even tried blaming you for it but everyone knew who he was, a crook through and through and his karma caught up with him rather quickly.

That's when you decided to be better than him, better at stealing, better at lying, better at all the things he told you that you'd never be able to do. You had never ever gotten caught and you intended to keep it that way. You kept to a routine, only steal when it's busy, more people meant it would be harder to find the culprits, steal small things on somebody's person, useless but worth a few caps, that's the difference between you and your daddy, he was just a greedy and selfish bastard and it was his own fault that it ended badly for him. You were careful, unsuspecting, too young to be taken seriously, nobody batted and eyelid at you, kids didn't matter all that much, you didn't matter at all, this was survival to you.

You should've known better than to steal from a ghoul of all people, but he was bent over having a coughing fit in the middle of the market so you took your chance, you'd brushed past him in seconds and swiped a ring from his coat pocket, some plane gold band that looked boring in your opinion but it was worth a lot of caps, the old pawn shop was actually surprised at your find and you were in this somewhat good mood the rest of the day, a bit of a spring in your step and a little grin whenever you looked at the little pouch of caps you had earned.

Of course, being happy never lasted long in your world, it was rare and it was ruined the moment you opened your front door to the little house you'd been living in for a few weeks since you'd taken a liking to it. Nobody bothered in this part of town, you were left alone mostly, and you had loved that about this place, although, being left alone had some negatives to it, like being left to deal with the ghoul who ambushed you as soon as you stepped foot through the front door. He had been standing behind it and you'd barely gotten through when he slammed the door as this means to shut it but also harm you, the force ended with you crying out and being knocked on your ass, winded, a feeling of utter shock as you tried to breathe.

"Thieving little shit!" The angry southern drawl had barely registered to your ears, heavy footfalls approaching your figure and hauling you up from the floor, at the sight of a rather angry looking ghoul, your own eyes widened and a feeling of fight or flight kicked in. Your boot covered feet began to kick at his knees as he yanked you towards your small makeshift kitchen but he didn't budge, only a scoff of a laugh escaping him at your attempts to free yourself from his grip. His singed hands had a hold of your coat, a strangling grip on the collar as he flung you back to your kitchen floor and pointed his gun at you. Panic creeps up on you as he lowers himself to be at your level and with a frightened cry you kick his radiated face and knock away the hat on his head, "Get away from me!" You cry and he stands to his feet once more, barely acknowledging how you cowered at the sight of his movements. He picks his hat up with a sigh and places it back on his head, looking back towards you with a blank stare.

"You know..." He trailed off, pulling a blade from the bag he was carrying and inspecting it, blowing air out of his throat and beginning to clean it with the edge of his long coat, looking satisfied at the new shine. "Back in my time, way before you were even a bean sprout in your Mama's belly, thieves would be punished a little differently unlike what they do to em' now." He pointed the blade towards you, finding humour in the way you flinched, "Yeah, back in my time they'd have your hands for this, just chop em' right off of ya." You watched as he peered upwards, as if in thought and then he turned back to you, "Now, usually I'm a shoot first ask questions later type of man but if I'd blown your brains out as soon as you walked in then that would just be a waste of a bullet on my behalf."

You eye him warily, wondering if you should run or not, a feeling of dread washing over you as he decided to sit on one of your chairs and gesture for you to sit on the other one with a calm demeanor. You stayed sitting on the floor with doubt, "How do I know you won't shoot me?" Ghoul, as you'd been referring to him, sighs, "Didn't you listen to a word I said, sweetie?" His expression draws to one that holds mocking disappointment, "Kids, these days, you'd think a few nukes dropping would wisen them up." You're quick to glare at him, "They dropped like a hundred years ago, can't all be as wise as some old, no nosed asshole!" You hear him chuckle lowly as you sit in the seat and it's that split second you're caught off guard, his hand grips a fistful of your hair and forces your head to smack against the table harshly, you hear your nose crack and blood has quickly begun rushing from your nostrils. "That's no way to treat a guest, now, is it?" He mocked, "And, it was 219 years ago those nukes dropped, not a hundred."

Something sharp dug into your wrist and through tearful eyes you glance up to see the blade pressing down with a force that drew blood. "Now, let's get back on track, shall we, reckon you wanna know what a fella like me is doing in your house." You remain quiet and he continues, "Now, earlier today I had a pretty little ring in my pocket, and, it has come to my attention that I no longer do, would you like to explain that?" You remain quiet for a moment and it causes him to press the blade further into your wrist, a cry leaves you and you shake your head as best as you're able to, "I don't know what you're talking about, Mister, I ain't seen no ring!" He sighs and you know he's aware of your lie, "If you ain't aware of it then how come a lovely little birdie told me all about your klepto tendencies?" A small cry leaves you and he stares mockingly, "Hope you didn't forget that little story I told you, you won't be able to steal shit without your hands." You stay quiet and if he had eyebrows they would've raised, "You ain't gonna say nothing, alright, guess you'll have to get used to having two stumps instead of ten fingers."

At the pressure of the blade deepening, you confess, "It's gone, alright! I sold it, I don't have it anymore!" The Ghoul is quick to retract his blade, shoving your hand away like he was disgusted at the sight of it.

"And who, pray tell, did you sell it to?" He questions, like it bored him now that his reign of terror had to stop for that singular moment. "The pawn shop, down by rustic road, I swear!" You cry out and he rolls his eyes when he sees the flood of tears, "Dry your eyes then get up, we're gonna be paying a visit to the rustic road pawn shop." His hand was ripping you from the seat, his grip tight on your arm but a little less painful than before, "How bout' you be my guide and introduce me to your little friends, see if they'll show an ol' ghoul some kindness and give him his ring back?" A smug grin stretched across his fleshy face and he turned towards you when you mumbled something, "Speak up, I didn't catch that." You sigh at him, "They don't do refunds down there." He paused and then shrugged at you, "Well, maybe they'll change that rule when I pay em' a visit, and if that don't work out, there's always option two."

Curiously you glance up at him, "What's option two?" You ask unsurely as he walks slowly down the road with you, a scoff of laughter leaving him at your question.

"Option two would be shooting them in the fucking head, sweetheart, and then taking back what's mine." He lets a rattly cough of laughter follow his words, "You may be an excellent little pick pocket but you ain't that brightest, are you?" When your features turned furious, he looked as if it humoured him.

"It's alright, you'll learn, I'll make sure of that."

#fallout tv series #fallout tv show #fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #platonic relationship #i did my best with this because i didn't wanna make him too nice if yk what i mean #it's a little crazy but so is he #cooper howard x platonic reader #the ghoul x platonic reader

[seishiroses]

Episode Nagi special chapter thoughts on that one line.

At first glance it felt like Nagi's parents telling him something like "don't die before me" was the most insensitive thing they could possibly say to their teenage kid as he left for high school. But the interesting part is that Nagi mentions this as an example of something they did that made him happy.

One could infer that Nagi is used to receiving such little love and attention from his parents that them merely mentioning that he should stay alive was something he accepted as a moment of joy. However, that might be too simplistic.

Just like being monster parents can create a very strained relationship with your child (e.g. Reo's parents, or even more evidently, Hiori's parents), a too hands-off approach could also easily lead to neglect and suppressed feelings of loneliness within the child. In the panel above, Nagi states that Reo's parents being meddlesome isn't so bad since it means he's important to them. The implication is clear, and sad. But later, when he repeats the words his own parents said to him, it complicates things a little.

Perhaps saying this was a way for Nagi's parents to subtly remind him that despite their chosen (and arguably flawed) parenting style which grants him free will to live however he wants, he is in fact important to them. Sort of like "you can do anything you want, but this is our only rule." They want him around. They don't want to live in a world without him.

And perhaps that was why it made him happy. He recognised it as something you would say to someone who was important to you. And so he says it to his friend (very possibly the first friend he's had). It is also very reminiscent of the promise he asks for later while entering Blue Lock: "Stay with me until the end." It definitely sheds some more light on the things Nagi values when it comes to interpersonal relationships, and adds a tender and wistful layer to his backstory.

🤍🖤

On a lighter note,

I LOVE that Nagi will be full on judging rich people interior decor one second only to suddenly turn around and say some of the most mysterious deep shit that will turn your insides cold and in the next second just shrug and be like oh well, later then Reo, byeee.

What a strange loveable creature. ❤️🤍🥺🥰

#episode nagi #nagi seishiro #mikage reo #blue lock #manga thoughts #nagi backstory crumbs make my brain go brrrrrr #any kind of talk of death is scary tho 🥺

[icycoldninja]

Hello! Can you do a dmc boys + V with a rich S/o? Perhaps the boys didn’t know that their s/o was rich when they first started dating but as time went on and the relationship becomes serious the s/o starts to spoil their boyfriends with all kinds of stuff related to the things they like because after the stuff they went through they definitely deserve it.

Aww yes, here you go and enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Rich!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-He was completely oblivious to your wealth (as you did a great job of hiding it) and didn't really give it much thought until one day, when his power went out.

-He groaned, suddenly remembering he had no money to pay the bills, but then, astoundingly, the lights flickered back on.

-Was it a miracle? No, even better, it was you. You had paid his bills and gotten him out of debt with Lady--how?! Then you revealed you were rich, and Dante's mind was blown.

-Even after this stunning revalation, Dante still didn't care. He was very thankful for all your help, but he honestly had no sentiments towards being rich. He still treated you the same.

-The only thing he'll ask you for is for you to buy him some pizza, maybe once every week or so. He's not greedy.

-If you decide to shower him with presents anyway, he'll gladly accept and immediately find a way to make it up to you, be it taking you somewhere nice or...something else. No do not read into that

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil never noticed, and never cared. He is far too MOTIVATED to trifle with mundane things such as wealth.

-But then you presented him with a rare copy of a book that was worth hundreds of dollars, and he had to question, how did you obtain the funds for such a thing?

-Thus, you revealed you were absolutely loaded with cash, and Vergil was, understably shocked.

-After thanking you, he went right back to not caring about wealth because now he has this interesting book to read.

-Still, he appreciates it when you gift him little gifts, regardless of what they may be. You could give him a pebble you found on the side of the road, and he'd still treasure it forever.

-To reward you for your generosity, Vergil will do his best to take good care of you, physically and otherwise.

□ Nero □

-Nero didn't think much of it either, cause he's not shallow, but one day, Nico's van broke down in the middle of the road and was assaulted by demons who ripped up the exterior. Repairs were going to be extremely expensive, but then you stepped in and promised to take care of it all.

-Nero had to wonder, where'd you get the funds for that? You sheepishly revealed your wealth and he just shrugged.

-After thanking you and all that, things proceeded as usual, with you and Nero splitting the bills for everything as you always do.

-Nero never asks for anything, regardless of how expensive it is, but you don't care. You shower him with gifts, love and affection because this sweet boy deserves it.

-You two end up leaving little treats 'n things for each other at a designated "drop off" spot somewhere in your house.

-Your gifts always seem to be well thought out and expertly made, proving that you don't just buy meaningless trinkets to appease him, you get him things that truly have value.

● V ●

-V noticed you always seemed to be impeccably dressed, but didn't dwell on the subject since it wasn't all that important. His current objective was to get to know you further.

-Then, as things progressed between you, he found himself constantly receiving little presents on his doorstep, usually wrapped in shimmering velvet bows. There was no name tag and no writing on it, so he had no idea who was doing this or why.

-One day, Griffon caught you placing a little gift box and, Griffon being Griffon, decided to rat you out.

-V then approached you the next day and expressed his appreciation, which led to a massive confession on both your parts. You explained you just wanted to give him the luxury he deserves, and he was very touched, but insisted you didn't need to do that.

-But of course, you don't listen, and continued to spoil him however possible, even if you have to break in at 3:00 A.M. and leave it on his kitchen table.

-Eventually you had him move in with you, where you can treat him like the lovely princess he is.

#Dmc #Dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #Devil may cry #Dmc dante #Dmc vergil #Dmc v #dmc nero #Dmc5 dante #Dmc5 vergil #Dmc5 Nero #Dmc5 v #Dante x reader #Vergil x reader #Nero x reader #V x reader #devil may cry dante x reader #devil may cry vergil x reader #devil may cry nero x reader #devil may cry v x reader #headcannons #Cute #kinda fluffy #Requested #thanks for requesting #icycoldninja writes

[latenightdaydreams]

Very specific request but König finding gn!reader (who was unambiguously his lover) who was presumed dead in a nursing home. Crippled and scarred, maybe they were also part of the military, but your body was never recovered after the mission. Yet here you are, sitting in some nursing home with a book in your lap and a blanket around your shoulders, looking so much paler and thinner than he remembers. Maybe they wanted to wait until they were strong enough to actually go see him in person themselves, or maybe they're struggling with their self image now. Just headcanons on how he and reader would deal with it, if you want more angst maybe reader is also disabled now, unable to walk without crutches, or developed a chronic illness. I'm just such a sucker for this type of hurt comfort.

🥹As someone who uses arm crutches, this story was close to home lol. Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy🥰

Finding You (g/n)

Fluff and angst (slightly)

Master List

>cw: internalized ablism, disability

1.3k word count

.

.

Today was just like any other day at the nursing home. You sit in a vintage arm chair with a pale blue crochet blanket around your shoulders, donated from a local artist, you took it as soon as you saw it in the pile. The shade of blue reminding you of König’s eyes.

You miss him, crave him, but you aren’t ready for him to see you. Not like this. Physical therapy has only been helping but only so much, your body still looks wasted away. A deep scar cutting across the left side of your face now, making you feel hideous. You don’t resemble the person König fell in love with and you’re scared that if he sees you, he will fall out of love.

You drop your eyes from the window to your book. You struggle to stay focused on the words when all you want to do is see, even talk to, König. The months have been lonely, your depression only getting worse. Next to you, resting on the chair, are your new arm crutches you’ve been getting use to walking with since your spinal injury. You glare at them with distain for a while before looking back out the window, remembering life before the incident.

The common room is quiet as most people are outside today to enjoy the warm weather. You wish to be outside, but you still feel a level of embarrassment having to use crutches now to walk. You never knew how hard internalized ableism could affect you until you became disabled.

König walks up the stairs and opens the door to the nursing home. He sees a young woman sitting at the front desk and she greets him warmly.

“Hallo, I’m here looking for y/n.” He gives her your full name.

“You’re their first visitor! I’m sure they will be so excited.” She stands and gestures for you to follow her to where you are.

She walks him through long hallways full of rooms, finally he arrives at the end of a hallway with large windows illuminating the room, the walls painted a pale yellow, making the area bright and cheerful. She points to you.

König stares, not recognizing you at first. You’re small, your skin pale and your hair grown out. You haven’t noticed him, dissociating and looking out the window instead. König thanks the woman and begins to slowly approach you. His eyes gleaming with love as he looks over your fragile body.

“Schatz?” König speaks softly to not startle you. He notices the crutches next to you on the chair.

You turn your head to look at him head on. Your eyes widen with surprise to see him. A wave of emotions rushes over you as you realize he is really here. You don’t respond, just stare. You watch as König kneels in front of you and slowly pulls off his mask. His cheeks are red and there’s a small smile on his lips.

“Schatz?” König slowly moves his hand and rests it on your thigh. He has missed how you feel.

“König…” Your voice shaky as you’re overcome with emotions.

Hearing your voice makes his small smile grow, his eyes study your face. Dark circles under your eyes and a deep sadness fills them. A small frown on the edges of your lips. A new scar on your face, he wonders what happened, but won’t ask right now. No matter what, you’re still the most stunning human he has ever laid eyes on.

“I’ve missed you.” His grip slightly tightens.

“I’ve missed you too.” You move your book to the side on the chair, your hand finding his.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He grasps your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss. “Why didn’t you call? Write? Something?”

König doesn’t mean to talk about such heavy topics right now, but he is just so full of heart-ache. Life without you has felt so empty.

“I wanted to heal, get better.” You look into his eyes scared of rejection.

“I could help you heal Schatz.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this…” Your voice cracks as you talk, you drop your gaze to your lap.

He squeezes your hands slightly; he is aware of how much you’ve changed. Not just physically changed, but probably also mental.

“You know that I love you no matter what, right y/n? You’re my light.” König has felt rejected, learning that you were alive yet never tried to reach out to him.

Your frown deepens at his words, tears building up in your eyes. A heavy feeling of guilt and regret washes over you.

“I’m sorry…”

König gently grabs your chin and turns your face to him. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad to see you’re alive.”

He looks at you for a while before leaning in and kissing your lips softly. You kiss back and move your free hand to cup his face. You didn’t realize how much you missed him, his touch, until right now; you’ve been suppressing your feelings for so long.

Just then a nurse comes into the room and approaches the both of you. She smiles warmly and places her hand on the back of your chair.

“Today is a beautiful day, you haven’t been out in a while y/n. Why not show your guest around the garden?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” König excitedly agrees. He stands up and reaches his hand out to you.

You let out a deep sigh, not really wanting to do anything. Yet, you grab his hand and stand up, your legs wobble slightly. König notices and quickly wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close. You feel so much lighter in his arms. Holding you steadily, he reaches down and grabs your crutches.

“You need these, right?” He asks in a soft voice as he hands them to you.

You nod and grab them from him. You slip your arms in and stand with them. König softly steps back and lets you stand by yourself. He watches the way you stand and how you rest on your crutches.

You both walk out of the room and to the back door to enter the garden. König walks at a slow pace to keep up with you. His eyes on you the whole time to make sure you don’t fall or need his help in some way. You feel self-conscious as he looks at you, you know it isn’t with malice, yet you can’t help how you feel.

Stepping outside the warm sun hits your skin and you squint your eyes. König just smiles, taking in how precious you are to him. Seeing how far you’ve come in your healing journey makes him proud, he’s always known you were a strong person. He just wishes he could have helped you along the way.

You walk with your crutches, one foot at a time, making sure to not rush yourself and allowing your body to move at a pace it’s comfortable with. The pain from moving already starting to kick in, and it’s written on your face.

“Do you need any help Schatz?”

“No, I’m okay.” You lie not wanting to push König away by asking for support.

König nods, seeing a bench in the distance he begins to slowly guide you there with a hand on your back, not meaning to over step but he sees you struggling and wants to help. Once there, he puts his hands around your waist to help you sit. There are so many things he wants to ask you, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Instead, he simply wraps his arm around you and pulls you close to him. He kisses the top of your head.

“Would you come home?”

“I- I need to heal still.”

“I can hire a nurse for you, you know money isn’t an issue Schatz. I can take time off work as well.”

“I don’t want to be a burden-”

“You are never a burden. Never.” His voice stern but he isn’t angry. “You’re more important than stupid paper work. Please, come home to me.”

You look up at him with teary eyes and just slowly nod your head. You thought when König saw your crutches, your scar, your frail state, he would fall out of love. He would be… disgusted. But no, his love has proven to be unconditional.

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x #konig x gn!reader #konig x you #konig fl #konig fluff #konig an #konig angst #könig x gn!reader #könig x #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig x gn reader #könig f #könig fluff #könig a #könig angst #könig x disabled y/n

[lovezbrownies]

Desires (Male Yan!Chief of Police x GN!Reader)

Masterlist

Grim Ludenhart x reader

Word count: 3.5K

Synopsis: 4 times where your husband gets cockblocked, and the 1 time where he can finally let out all of frustrations onto his loving partner.

WARNINGS: MDNI. Suggestive themes, slight aggression towards reader at the end, reader referred to as ‘’Pa’’ and ‘’papa’’ by kids (short for parent.), lots of cockblocking.

1- Boss.

The sun shines bright as Grim wakes up to the best view. You. The parent to his children, the beauty he's been married to for 7 years, the one person he's ever loved, the one who took all of his firsts, the person he'd ever allow to see him for who he really is.

Every morning he wakes up with his darling next to him gives him more of a reason to live as long as he could. Grim's arms hadn't moved since last night's cuddle session, his grip was as strong as iron -- afraid his love might be taken away from him as he slumbers.

Nonetheless, Grim pulled his spouse closer to him, curling into them he buried his head onto their neck. Now this was his favourite part, he always runs a little too hot at night, so sometimes you'd end up really sweaty and the next morning you'd smell really musky, your natural scent would peek out from all your body washes and spray-on scents. And so, he breathes your scent in deeply, inflating his lungs with so much of your mind-numbing smell that it hurts.

Your lovely husband sees the opportunity to wake you up to a wonderful surprise when he feels a certain appendage of his twitch to life. Grim licks long stripes slowly and sensually up your neck, one of his hands slowly makes its way down to your crotch, the other stays gripping at your waist. Grim breaths heavily, whimpering when you subconsciously grind your ass on his waiting dick.

Grim has no clue what ended up waking you, maybe his licking, his whining, or maybe his hard on did it for you. You woke up with a moan and a stretch, but of course you can never have peace in the morning and you feel a hand shove itself inside your underwear, playing with you. "Ah- D-don't you think i-it's too early for this..?" You look back at your lovesick husband, his eyes full of love and lust.

Grim chest rumbled with a low growl, he smirks as he takes back his hands to flip you to your back and pin you down. Grim straddles your lap, grinding softly to make a point of his arousal. "It's never too early baby~ I love you so much I got hard just by smelling you. You-" What both you didn't expect was for Grim's phone to ring loudly. Interrupting his lust-filled rant. He tsked and went to check who it was, getting off your lap and off to the side of you guys' massive bed.

Grim cusses, he could only wish it was someone unimportant but no, it was the commander. If he didn't answer that phone they'd assume he was in danger. (Happened before, and it was because of your allure, he couldn't think of getting off you and you two got caught in the middle of it. You've both moved on it's been years since but Grim definitely learnt his lesson.) Grim picked the phone up, sitting on the edge of the bed he held his head in his hand as he answered with the other.

By the time he finally got off the call you already completed your morning routine and woke your kids up for school. So Grim dealt with it in the shower.

2- Kid one: Red Ludenhart.

It was 8 AM, an hour before he had to leave for work, and Grim saw the kids drive off in one of Grim's cars with their driver from the window. Now was his opportunity, get back what he lost. Grim still has the chance to make this day a good day after all! Grim sauntered over to the living room, you were sat on the couch with the tv showing one of those shows you like to binge watch. Grim smirked, his chance to get relief right there, unknowing to the predator hunting them down.

Grim approached the couch from the back, bending down he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck yet again, he breathed in, ah you showered... It's okay you still make him unbelievably horny nonetheless. "Kids are gone, got about an hour before I leave for work, and you're a spoiled housespouse... Maybe we could have some fun, before anything else interrupts us..."

His breath fans onto your ears, you can feel yourself get aroused by his voice, and the way his muscular arms wrap around you possessively, he always manages to turn you on, it comes easy to him, like flipping a light switch. You tilted your head towards Grim, his face was flushed with lust, his eyes greedy with need, you could almost feel his appendage through the couch.

You grin, placing a hand on his jaw you lean into him, kissing him– progressing the kiss from a cute short kiss to a long passionate makeout where most of Grim had made its way onto the couch, laying you down he straddled you yet again, your hands circle around his neck, playing with his hair and tugging at it to hear his delicious voice moan out for you.. His hands slip under your shirt, grabbing at all parts of your torso while the other one wanders down, it slides under you, grabbing a handful of your ass.

You two separate, a string of saliva connecting the two of you together, you chuckled airly at his mind blown expression, you run your hands down to his chest, to his pecs, and right under his shirt, you slowly wrap your hands around his waist, giving him goosebumps from how intimate it felt. Grim laid his head on your chest, grinding down hard before stopping, eliciting a moan out of you. “Gods, I need this, you make me go crazy, and yet you’re the only one that calms me down. I fucking adore you, darling.” You blushed, nuzzling softly into his hair.

You pull your hands away from Grim’s waist, a whine of desperation leaves him, but he doesn’t need to worry, because your hands immediately set their sights to his round ass, the years of dedicated workouts made his bottom extremely plump and round, something you personally liked. 

You exhaled softly into his hair, you loved it when you both were this soft in the morning. “I think you deserve a reward for being so patient, Grimmie… Don’t you?” A little moan escaped the muscular man, just as he opened his mouth a loud “Dad! Pa! Where are you?!” sounded out from the house’s entrance, thankfully too far for your 12 year old to hear or see anything. “Grim! Get off me before he sees us!” A string of curses leave Grim as he reluctantly gets off his darling.

You got up as fast as you could, fixing yourself up, you looked back at the pouting 39 year old man sitting on the couch. “I’m gonna go see what Red needs, stay here and cover that up.” You looked pointedly at his crotch after saying the last part of your sentence. Grim of course does as you say, but he does not do it happily, he grumbles about how unlucky he is, complains that god is obviously against him today. What did he do to deserve this? This is worse than the times he got injured while on the job, he cannot handle being cockblocked this hard.

Grim’s patience starts to wear off, it’s been 15 minutes, time is slowly closing in on him and if he doesn’t get to fuck his spouse at least once this morning he is going to lose it. And then you and your eldest son come in, with a piece of paper and a blue ink pen in hand you give it over to Grim. “Red forgot his field trip slip here, spent a while looking for it, and now you need to sign it.” You looked upset, obviously just as sexually frustrated as Grim. Grim signed it, you already put in any other necessary details as well as your own signature, he immediately gave it over to Red.

 “Dad why are you and Pa so mad, are you arguin-”

You sighed, “Red, honey, we’re fine and happy. We are just upset because you’re going to be late now, run back to the car, don’t want to sign another tardy slip...” Red flinched at the mention of a tardy slip and ran as fast as his tiny feet could.

Once sure that his kids’ car had driven off he grabbed at you, growling hard. “Come here we probably have time, I need at least a quickie, please-” You shut him up using your hand as you pointed to the clock reading 8:39 AM. No way in hell would you two be able to do anything. Grim once again cussed as he trudged back to your shared room, to again relieve himself as well as get dressed.

3- Emergency.

Grim’s been locked up in his office so far. He has not made an effort to get up at all. He excused his behavior by saying he was just exhausted due to some late night drinking. But the truth of the matter was that if he spoke to a single person other than his darling he might actually yell at them, which won’t do him any good. It’s 1:54 PM, only 6 minutes left until he gets his hour break. Grim already planned to drive home as fast as possible, get his dick wet, then get back to work as fast as possible, however seeing the drive would be 15 minutes to and from that only meant he got 30 minutes with his love. Which is nowhere near enough for how frustrated he is at this moment, but as long as he has you at least once he’ll handle the rest of the day.

1:57, Grim clocked out for his hour lunch, he couldn’t wait anymore he was jittery and unstable he needed your warm hole to stuff his dick in and get it over with or he’s sure he will explode from the frustration. Just as he was making his way down the long halls of the palace (most of the chiefs reside within the palace walls) he was met by a beautiful sight. Grim’s sweetheart walking towards him, looking down with your phone in hand, holding it up to your ear, and just then does Grim’s phone ring, the special ringtone he made for you, it matches your heartbeat. (did it while you were asleep, just shoved his ear to your chest and replicated the natural beat of your heart.)

You look up, your face shines with joy, and then surprise as Grim full on sprints to you and attacks you with a bear hug. Grim, horny as ever, sniffs you like an animal, immediately getting hard once again. Thankfully he wore some really tight underwear today, knowing fully well he’d get horny one way or another, so it wasn’t all that noticeable. “Darling, ah, my love, my light, what are you doing here?” You laughed as he spit out a few nicknames. “Mm, needed you… Thought I could pick you up, and do what we need at home… If I don’t have you in me in 15 minutes I will lose my sanity.” 

Grim chuckled, of course you had the same exact idea as him. He didn’t need to waste his breath telling you he had the same idea, he knows you know. So he grabbed your hand and dragged you with him down the halls. When you two finally made it to the receptionist’s area you were giddy, finally some alone time to let out all of the backed up sexual desires. And then… “Ah! Chief Grim wait!” You and Grim stopped in your tracks, looking at each other praying it was nothing other than a paper needing a signature.

Grim clenched his hands, to the point where he was sure he had just injured himself. You and your husband turned around, facing a tiny nervous man. “Yes, Officer Wessley, what do you need.” Officer Wessley looked out of breath, definitely having run over to make sure he didn't miss his boss. “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but a dozen prisoners escaped, presumably holding weapons, most of the criminals have class A felonies against them. We need you as well as C-Chief Gen to assist in recapturing them.” Officer Wessley explained frantically, sweating in the presence of his boss.

Grim sighed, he said he’ll be there in a second and dismissed the young officer. Looking back he saw the slightly disappointed expression on your face, but you still graced him with a soft understanding smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart go do your job, I’ll see you at home.” You patted the hand that was still holding onto you. Your husband chuckled, “Is it bad if I say I would rather have sex with you than save the city?” You gasped and punched him lightly, pushing him away from you so he doesn’t do just that. Grim smiles and waves at you before he has to go and deal with this issue.

He didn’t have time to relieve himself of his hard-on. His sister, Chief Gen, made fun of how agitated he was today, thankfully she doesn’t know why or else she’d make the situation worse.

4. Kid two: Siolis Ludenhart.

5:13 PM, 2 minutes away from home, and Grim couldn’t hold it in anymore, the entire ride home he had to force himself not to think of you or else he’d endanger everyone’s lives on the road. Yet anytime he changes subjects within his mind they always come back to you and your voice in bed, how you hold tightly onto him as you climax, how you ride him, how even as you two age you will always experiment kinks with him, how cute you look in your underwear. Fuck, he couldn’t do it anymore.

Grim finally rolled into his manor’s garage. Quickly leaving the car with his briefcase he sped over to enter your house, ready to fuck you like no tomorrow. He could hear his oldest yelling at the cartoon showing on the TV, he knows his youngest is looking at bugs outside since he caught a glimpse of them staring at the garden floor. Grim however could not pinpoint where you were, so he went to the living room to ask his son. “Red, where’s your-” He stopped right on his tracks when he saw you sitting on the floor, some papers and your laptop in front of you.

You look back and smile, “Welcome home, Grimmi-” “Red, take care of Siolis, me and your papa need some time to work on the house renovations or something.” What house renovations? He does not know but Grim could not wait another second, he speeds over to you, thankful for his strong build because he immediately throws you over his shoulder, making his way to your shared bedroom, the bedroom also being soundproof was an amazing decision to make when buying the manor. “Wait- Grim! No! I’m busy with th-” As he makes his way up the stairs he smacks your ass. “Love ya, but shut up, don’t use that mouth unless you’re beggin’ me to use you like you deserve.”

If his desires were so intense that his village accent managed to slip through you can already tell he will fuck you senseless, you won’t be able to do anything by the next day. “Grim, I- No, I can’t!” You yell out as he locks the bedroom door behind him. Grim chuckled, a smirk residing on his face. “Oh~? Didn’t I tell ya to keep shut?” His voice rasped towards the end, he throws you softly onto the bed, stalking towards you like a predator. You should’ve guessed that when you tried to sit up to leave he would pounce at you and pin you down to the bed.

Grim face twisted into anger, “All day. All day we’ve been cockblocked left an’ right! Why the hell are you now refusin’ to stay with me?! Did I do somethin’?! I am desperate  for ya and here ya are. Runnin’ away from yer husband!! Do ya hate me?! TELL ME!” Grim burst out, he is… upset to say the least. It wasn’t like any of this was new to you. You’ve been married 7 years, you know this side of him, how insecure he gets when you don’t reciprocate his feelings. You sighed, looking up at him as lovingly as you could, to calm him down, you explained.

“Grim, my love, I adore you, but I need to help Siolis study… I had my laptop and papers in front of me as study material, and I let Sio go out for a tiny break before they had to come back. I’m sorry honey, not now, maybe later?” You could see your darling husband deflate, his shoulders still tense but at least he relaxed from his outburst. He let go of you, sitting at the edge of you guys’ bed. Grim looked down, you can tell he still felt insecure, not enough, not worth it. You got up from bed, you turned back to your husband, you rest your hands on his cheeks– he still won’t look at you. You didn’t care, you loved him and you showed it by giving him butterfly kisses. “I love you, honey.”

You walked away, regrettably. Then you heard your little one yell out for you as soon as you opened the bedroom door. “Papa! Papa? Wher-” Grim didn’t get to hear the rest of his youngest calls for their parent, he sighed. Falling back down to the bed. It wasn’t because he needed sexual relief anymore. Normally by this point of the day you’d both be cuddling, kissing, just overall being all over each other in a non-sexual way. You would sometimes come to his work and sit on his lap, to just bask in his energy. Or he’d go back home and bask in yours. But today he hasn’t experienced enough acts of love. You didn’t text him other than a ‘Good luck at work, waiting for you at home!” text. You probably were busy with house work or whatever.

Whatever.

5- Sleepy sex.

You finally managed to straggle the kids to bed, laying them down to sleep. You sighed in relief. Stretching as you walk down the hall to your bedroom. The room that held your very upset husband, the one you left alone. You felt immensely guilty, but you will make it up to him tomorrow. Not just for the sexual frustration but also from the lack of loving gestures. Entering your bedroom, the lights were off and Grim was asleep. Of course, you would be too if you were upset at him for not loving you enough (Would never happen), 

Walking over to the bathroom connected to your bedroom you completed your usual nightly routine and changed into one of Grim’s t-shirts and boxers. Slowly you slipped into bed, his back was facing you, so today you decided to be the big spoon, a very rare occasion. Kissing his toned back, you nuzzled into him, ready for a full night’s rest after a busy exhausted day. But..

Your plans were foiled by your monster of a husband. Because as soon as you relaxed the world spun. Grim was fully awake and his face mischievous, he had flipped you over so you were straddling him, Grim was holding onto your waist so you don't fall over. “Well~ Look what the cat dragged in~” Your shock subsided when you felt a painfully hard cock sticking up your ass. You giggled, already getting worked up again. “I’m on top? Looks like you wanna be spoiled, baby~” You were so cute, thinking he would ever be a bottom, no no that wouldn’t happen. He will always be in control, in and out of the bedroom.

Grim smiled. You let out a whimper as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged you down to meet him nose to nose. “Well that’s adorable. No no, you are going to ride me to oblivion, pay me back for all the orgasms I missed. You’re my little bitch for the next week, what I say goes. Got that?” 

And so you went on. For hours and in different positions. The next day Grim called in sick, Red went on his field trip and enjoyed it, and Siolis got a full mark on his test. All was well and happy. And you were pretty sure this man could’ve gotten you pregnant. (No matter your gender)

#x reader #oc x reader #yandere x reader #gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere #yandere oc #tw yandere #gender neutral #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #male yandere x reader #yanderexreader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oneshort #male oc

[jellys-compendium]

Comforting Monster Stories for the Weary Heart

Part 1 - The Gargoyle

Pairing: Monster x/& GN!Reader Relationship (can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic) Cw: Brief/implied feelings of solitude and isolation with some fluff at the end Word Count: ~500 A/n: Who doesn't love gargoyles, right? This little project will be my first attempt at some original writing featuring some cozy short stories that focus on monster x/& human relationships. The relationships in each story can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic in nature. Hope you enjoy them!

The clack of your footsteps is the only sound that echoes across the ancient cobblestones as you make your way home. You listen as the sounds are swallowed into the black unknown beyond the streetlights that illuminate your path. It is quiet tonight, the silence somewhat eerie, but you are not afraid. You are protected and nothing or no one can harm you. 

Your nightly journey home alone in the dark used to frighten you. Your entire life you only had yourself to rely on, and if you went missing—swept silently away in the clutches of a monster—would anyone even notice? Would anyone care? 

Pondering the answer to that question has always hastened your steps each and every night, but tonight as you approach the massive and imposing cathedral at the centre of the city, you feel a comforting warmth spread from your heart all the way to the tips of your fingers.

You used to be all alone, but not anymore. Not since that fateful night when you encountered a creature who was just as lonely as you were.

‘Gargoyles, ugly as they may be, are protectors.’ One of the nuns once told you. ‘Under their watchful eyes, you are safe.’

How right she was, although perhaps the well intentioned sister had not meant her consoling words to be taken literally.

Slowing your pace, you gaze up at the gargoyles. Most are arched and snarling, keeping evil at bay with their exposed fangs and claws. They are a majesty to look upon, perched on their stone pedestals. The artistry behind their creation leaves you breathless every time you bear witness to them. Not a single gargoyle is a copy of the other and each is unique in their own way. Just like human beings.

Eventually your gaze comes upon one of the central pedestals. It is vacant and a smile spreads across your lips. 

He’s awake.

And no sooner do those words cross your mind do you feel a shift in the cool autumn night breeze. A gust of wind blows across the manmade path, whistling through the stone archways and singing through the branches of the nearby trees. 

A large shadow passes overhead, shrouded by the moonless sky yet still distinguishable enough for you to discern the enormous breadth of his wings. As quietly as his massive form allows, the gargoyle lands close to you, just outside the reach of light.

He calls your name, his voice like the scraping of stone, rough and earthy. It’s strangely soothing. It sounds like the whisper of old parables told by the fire, now long forgotten. Or like the rumbling of thunder on a hot summer night. It sounds like…home.

“You’re here,” You smile, heart thrumming excitedly as you walk into the shadows to join him. It’s too dark to see him completely, but the orange glow of his inhuman gaze guides you into his embrace. Before long you’ve wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug and his sharp claws wrap gently around you in kind.

“I'll always be where you are.”

He squeezes you tight, nuzzling against you and holding you like you matter--like you always mattered despite everything that you've endured.

Your eyes burn at the gesture and you squeeze him back, wanting your gargoyle to know that you're here for him too, that he has and always will have at least one friend in this city full of strangers.

"You are not alone."

His words, so tender and kind, are the soothing balm your soul needed. Your hands, chilled by the night breeze and his cold skin, caress his cracked and bumpy skin, eagerly reciprocating the kindness and care he had showed you.

"Neither are you."

dividers by @/saradika

#writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #creative writing #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #gargoyle x reader #jellywrites

[h4terb0t]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖙.

☆ 18+ only/no minors. | jason todd x gn! reader.

SUMMARY: a nsft fic about brat taming with a needy jason who's trying to make up for an argument. in his own way.

WARNINGs: 18+, dom! gn! reader, sub! jason, no penetration, brat taming, shoe humping/grinding, (minor, on reader's part) degradation & praise, (minor, on reader's part) slapping, partial nudity & begging on jason's end.

WORD COUNT: 1700+

NOTEs: second person & no plot. first smut & not beta'd. this insert is more of a mean type until the end. [guy, and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]

It's never easy to get him into that 'sub' mindset. He's always catching on to exactly what you're doing. At every turn, he's struggling against you, making sure there isn't a moment of vulnerability with how easy it can be to crack down the tension into something enjoyable. Sometimes.

The mere thought of giving away someone else that control is enough to stir nausea in the pit of his stomach.

And it stays there. For days, if it wants. Jason's head never makes it easy. Even through the fog that wraps around him in the most gentle manner that can be mustered, the worst possibilities always stand at the back of it. It makes him regret even letting himself be touched; no matter how much he's reassured you'll never take advantage of what's given.

The other half of the time, he craves it like air.

Finally, it's not only the ache. His head doesn't have to be caught on solely about how bad his legs are still burning up on the inside, be it from patrol or whatever the hell else he was doing, because he can grasp onto the sweat-slicked memories that came with the previous day despite it. 

The sting remains, and yet. Wounds are carefully tended to afterwards, and bite marks from a completely separate source are kissed until enough is enough, and you are pushed away with whatever laughter his sore throat can still give.

Today is one of the better ones.

The earlier thoughts aren't biting away at what can be considered rational. His heart isn't running a marathon in the cage around it, but Jason's breathing is still one of the loudest sounds in the room, other than the bed creaking under your weight as the space between the two of you is closed.

Under thick lashes, hazel eyes stare up at you from the floor, and you groan at the obvious intent to get back into good graces. "C’mon, don’t look at me like that."

The argument that brought up the act was, honestly, not the worst. Another misunderstanding, something taken out of context. Words were left unsaid, and the 'wrong' ones were spoken out without much thought other than they'd dig deep. Compared to the start of the relationship, it's been getting better.

Jason tries with what little he knows and pushes past the urge to cut everything off at the roots. He could've left for weeks—leave entirely without a single message. Instead, he's not going to put you through that again, but it'll never be easy for him. And so, he takes a different approach.

He's on his knees in front of the bed with a wounded, puppy-eyed expression. With the bottom of his outfit stripped, he's left all alone in a hoodie and jockstrap as dark as the night outside your guys's little hideout. The black straps stretch around his thighs, and with his pants forgotten somewhere around the apartment, the bulk of his scars are out in the open.

His underwear gives away at the bulge underneath. Even kneeling in front of you alone made him unreasonably needy.

The remark has Jason nuzzling his head on top of one of your legs. Black curls envelope your knee.

"'M sorry. I wanna be good, I swear," He purrs, and he wants to try and smile to play the part, be cute, and let anything else fade into background noise, but he's not suited for that. Eyes scan over your face, looking for some semblance of understanding. "Feel good. All for you."

Your foot presses against the bulge enough for him to feel it down almost the entire length. A hiss breathes through his clenched jaw, and he lets a whine slip and curls forward, resting his cheek on your leg.

"Hmm—don’t know. You sure you can do that without barking at me like a dog tonight?"

He takes full advantage of the indulgence, dragging his face against you in slow motion while he pushes down the edges of his lips. Well aware he's won, his hands come up around your leg, palming at you for the chance the contact might be taken away as easily as it was given.

The act drops instantly.

"What, you can’t handle it?" His eyes shut for a second before staring back at you with heavy, glassy lids, mouth agape as he practically drools in panted breaths. "I'm not a fucking dog."

In small, janky movements, so it isn't obvious, Jason rocks his hips forward. He stops complaining, though, when your hand comes down to pet his curls.

As much as your boyfriend's merciless begging and apologies are usually enough to get the better of you in these quiet moments, it hasn't been hard to notice how he's been exploiting the niceties to compromise with you over every act in bed.

It's difficult to get him to let go of control despite the obsession and encourage him to rest in a healthy manner once in awhile if it's just so easy to swindle you into doing what he wants. He seems to think he'll get everything he wants with a few pretty sounds, and that's been cemented in his head.

So, tonight—maybe if the cards are played right—can be a good teaching point. Just to show you aren’t going to put up with his bullshit.

“You can cum with my shoe, right, Jay?”

His brows furrow, but then he dips his back to the floor while his eyes flicker close.

Yeah, no. The summer heat isn't kind to the city, leaving your shared room smoldering apart from the fan in the corner, so every motion forces him to suck in more heated air. At the very least, he could be up there with you. It wouldn't be some plain clothes sticking to his skin from the sweat.

The floor, though padded with carpet, is getting uncomfortable real fast.

"Please—please, can you use your mouth or hands?"

And much to his surprise, you press on his dick uncomfortably hard. He tries not to shift in place as it happens, taking in a harsh breath all the while listening to you—listening to the words sink in through his racing head.

"What, is my foot not good enough for you? Little brat."

All his plans turn into nothing. He thought it'd at least take awhile before you'd get this harsh. He wasn't even trying to be that, but it's good enough.

The lump in his throat is swallowed past, and nothing sounds out. Jason shakes his head lightly, refusing to even lift his bottom lip from where he has it pinned under his teeth.

"Good. Then hump my foot." He lets out a pitiful whimper, hoping to coax some sympathy out of you.

It doesn’t work. So slowly, he pushes his hips forward and back.

And he does that for awhile, and it doesn't even feel that good. It's embarrassing being forced to listen to himself heave through every breath.

Gradually, pre-cum soaks through the jockstrap. It makes it easier, but it's still a fucking shoe. It's all he can focus on. He struggles to not dig his fingers into the thick of your leg, to get his mind to focus on anything else but the sting that comes with moving them at all. His knuckles are pressed firmly against the wrap around them—his knees hurt.

He's cursing himself out in his own head. It doesn't help with the burn at the edge of his lids, obviously.

He wipes the beginning of the waterworks against your pants, doing it along with each drag so it isn't too clear what he's doing while his forehead is pressed to your knee, but it doesn't stop. So, he spares himself a bit of the shame and tries to use it to garner some pity.

"Please, please—"

"Do you even know what you're begging for?" You know what he's doing. As hard as it is to ignore the pretty sobs that always distress you, you continue, "What are you crying for, brat?"

He really should've taken that glass earlier without letting his thoughts get the better of him, forgetting everything else you've done for him in the years you've known each other in favor of an intrusive thought.

Jason's voice sounds as rough as it feels as he wails and grips your leg tighter. "Please—touch me. Touch me; I'll be good."

"You sure? You going to listen for once?" You lightly push down on his bulge once again, and that just gets him to grind more frantically in the moment.

A light slap comes over the side of his face, and finally he peers up at you while your hand comes around to tilt his face up by the jaw. Your thumb runs over the streaks of tears, drying that part as you make sure his attention is on you alone.

"You gonna be a good boy for me and listen to me?"

His eyes seal after a moment.

And then a groan slips by undeterred. He leans into your hand, nodding while he does. His hips buckle without any protest, grounding against the leather of your shoe, because if he doesn't do something fast, the heat building up in his stomach is going to burst into nothing but a spark.

Your voice draws him in further: "Alright then, then do what I said."

The last few stray drops are dried by your pants. And just like that, he is cumming. You rub against his clothed cock, coaxing him through the short scene of euphoria as his cum leaks through the underwear.

It's not much, but it helps to glide your shoe nicely over the twitching length.

You don’t stop the stroking, and he begins to hiccup at the overstimulation. Jason doesn't do anything but shudder in response; he can't bring himself to. As much as it'd be nice to pull away now, the top of your hand is inching into his hair, your fingers brushing through it just barely.

Your foot eases off.

Once he catches his breath, the long sleeves of a hoodie wrap around your leg wholly, and during that, he uses it as a clutch while practically collapsing forward.

"There’s my boy."

With the exhaustion wrecking him altogether, Jason lets himself smile without punishment for once. His head begins to nuzzle into the warmth of your hand.

#sorry for the bunch of tags coming up </3 #jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gn reader #dom reader #dc comics x reader #gn reader #mine #dc comics #and scene .

[definesanity]

Here We Find Our Omnipotent Outlaws

It was a sudden attack, but one that they were well-equipped to deal with.

The Manus were always a thorn, but one that can be swiftly gotten rid of, even as Vertin is split off from the others barring a member of the Foundation, deep inside a forest in 1970s Ireland... at least, until they were defeated.

The moment they were, Vertin saw a Foundation member's chest be impaled by a strange looking dagger, which flew out and into the hand of an approaching figure.

They wore a dark suit, and on their head was a top hat with a black feather. Enemy or no enemy, Vertin can at least be at peace that the enemy has style.

That then ended when the stranger spoke with Vertin's voice.

"This is territory belonging to the Manus Vindictae." the stranger spoke and, upon reaching a closer point to Vertin and her team, she saw that the stranger was a mirror image of herself. "I kindly ask for you to take your leave."

"We did not realise the Manus was claiming territory." Vertin replied, and the other Vertin (Vertinus? Vertinus) raised a brow.

"Does the Foundation not claim the territory of others as well? What we are doing is no different than you... then again, given that I am facing a reflection of myself... I can only presume The Storm is at work."

A brow raised, and eyes are narrowed. "Explain."

"Time is akin to a river; and like rivers, you have two parts that split, allowing one to go on a different journey than the first. In this case... Lady Arcana did not save you."

"And recruit me into a terrorist organisation? I am glad, then."

A snort came from Vertinus. "You are nothing more than a sheep pretending to a shepherd to other sheep. Erstwhile, here I stand, free."

"Free to kill."

"Free to save others. Arcanists have suffered for long enough. We do not want to kill humans, we want to coexist with them... although, force seems to be the guiding hand, sadly..."

A rustle came from the trees, and a voice shouted out, "Timekeeper!"

Sonetto came from the trees, followed by Regulus, Sotheby, Voyager, Druvis III and Ezra.

Vertinus looked at them all, and smiled. "Humans are more than welcome to help us... but that won't happen with you now, will it?"

She clapped her hands, and figures dropped from the trees in the forest around them; all Vertin's friends, but in the purple and black of the Manus.

And jumping down and landing on all fours, with a crazed grin, was Sonetto.

"Now, then." Vertinus held the dagger above her head, and it split into two daggers. "Let us begin this show."

#ryuusei's works #reverse 1999 #r1999 #vertin #sonetto #reverse 1999 voyager #druvis iii #sotheby #ezra theodore #manus vindictae #manus vindictae au