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bet-on-me-13 · 10 months

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Dr's Assistant Danny

So, Danny has to run away from Amity after deciding to tell his parents about his powers. They acted like they accepted him, but when his back was turned they shot him with one of their Inventions and dragged him into the Lab for Study.

They think he's been taken over by a Ghost and decide to be "Surgeons" by opening him up and removing the Ghost by hand. Throughout all of this, they are just telling Danny that they are qualified doctors and can definitely do this perfectly. But they don't even use Anesthesia, and don't know the first thing about Surgery. But their delusions of being perfect Doctors have taken a hold of them, and they can't even comprehend the idea that they are doing it wrong.

After a week of "Surgeries", they mess up and forget to lock his Cell, and Danny manages to escape, hopping on a Bus headed to New Jersey.

He ends up in Gotham, hiding in an Alley to avoid Civilians and to bandage himself up. Thankfully his parents stitched him up fairly well after the last session, but he is still really hurt. And the cuffs restricting his powers don't help either.

He passes out in the Alley and wakes up in a Doctors Office. He panics, thinking that his parents found him and took him back to the Lab. Thankfully, the resident Dr rushes in to calm him down.

It's Dr Leslie Thompkins, and she really wants her patient to stop struggling thank you very much.

She manages to calm him down, and explains that she found him in the Alley, but that he was seriously injured. He was out for 4 days.

He explains what he can, that he told his parents that he had powers and that they didn't take it well. Not the Ghost thing, but he does explain that his parents could charitably be referred to as "Mad Scientists", and Dr Thompkins figures it out from there.

Since he doesn't have a place to stay, she let's him stay at her place. It's not much, but it's enough for 2 people.

After a few days, he starts helping out in the Clinic as a way to repay her.

After a few weeks, he starts taking on the bigger jobs and starts learning about medical aid

A few months in, and both Danny and Leslie realize that he has basically become her Personal Assistant. So she trains him in the legitimate way, teaching him all she can about being a Doctor and basically everything he would have learned in Medical School, which really helps with his trauma over the whole "constant unethical surgery from people who claimed to be licensed professionals" thing.

He still has those Restraining Cuffs on, they could never figure out how to take them off and they were basically unbreakable, but he was fine on his own.

And a note to add to this is that all of this is taking place in the early Years of Batman, like Years 1 and 2. So it's certainly a shock when Danny walks in for work and sees The Batman lying on a Cot.

Over the many following years, Danny gets used to his life in Gotham. He managed to contact Jazz, and his friends as well, even if they needed to keep it very secret for fear of his parents finding out.

He manages to get on friendly terms with most of the Bat Family from their many, many, many visits to the Clinic.

He never does reveal his past to them, he knows that they would never not poke their noses into it, so he tried to keep it on the down low around them. He even hid his Cuffs all these years. (He doesn't want to attract his parents attention)

But that all changed one day.

He messes up. He accidently calls Jazz outside of their scheduled safe times and his parents just so happen to be visiting her new house at the time. They pick up the call for her, and Danny, not knowing it's not Jazz on the other end, says "Hey Jazz, it's Danny. Just wanted to let you know that I'll he busy with work for a while so I won't be able to call as often".

When he gets no response, he gets concerned and asks "Jazz? You there?"

His parents immediately begin to trace the Call, but before they can get an exact location Danny wises up and hangs up. Buts it's too late, his Parents know he's in Gotham now, even if they don't know exactly where.

Danny doesn't know that they tracked him down though, but he quickly figures it out when Red Hood is rushed into the Clinic a week later after being attacked by "A big guy in an orange jumpsuit with a laser gun", who was joined by "A tiny lady in a blue jumpsuit with a baseball bat"

The Drs Fenton reached Gotham and immediately began tracking any Ecto-Signatures they could find. And Red Hood just so happened to be the closest one.

Now Danny has to find a way to deal with his parents without his powers. Since the Anti-Ecto Laws are still in effect, they aren't technically doing anything Illegal, and their Government Contracts would protect them either way.

He needs to figure out how to get rid of them. Due to the high concentration of Ectoplasm in Gotham, there are many unknowing Liminals in the City. His parents could end up attacking many innocent Civilains in search for him, maybe even subjecting them to the same things he was subjected to.

The only way he can think to do that is to give himself up.

Of course he knows Dr Leslie would disagree, but before she can stop him he sneaks out in the middle of the night, leaving a note thanking her for all that she had done for him over the years. It explains that the people who attacked Red Hood are his infamous Parents, and that they are searching for him. They could end up hurting alot of people if they stay, so he needs to nip this in the bud and is going to turn himself in to them.

She immediately takes the note to Batman.

She still vividly remembers the state she found Danny in. He still has the V-Shaped Scar on his chest from his experiences with his parents, and she'll be damned if she' going to let that happen to him again. (She kind of adopted him as her son a while ago)

She tells them everything. How she found him in the Alley, his injuries, how she nursed him back to health, his story about Meta-Hating Mad Scientist Parents, the unbreakable Cuffs he always hid, all of it.

Now it's a race to find Danny and save him from his Parents again.

#Dp x dc #Danny phantom #Dc #Dcu #Dpxdc #Dc x dp #Dcxdp #Doctors Assistant Danny #Danny as a Doctor #Dr Leslie Thompkins #Batman #Batfamily #Gotham #Danny's parents are the worst #Danny is a good friend #Red Hood is Liminal

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 6 months

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Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.

Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince

NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE

That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.

Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~

Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:

Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.

Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.

But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.

All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.

As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.

Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.

"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."

Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.

But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"

So this was the famous Arabeth.

"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."

The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.

He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.

"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.

"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.

It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?

Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"

She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"

"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"

"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"

"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."

"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"

Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.

Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?

But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.

It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.

By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.

"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.

"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."

"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.

"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"

Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.

Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"

"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."

She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"

"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.

"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"

This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.

You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."

But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."

She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"

"No! I'm marrying the prince!"

Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.

"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."

Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."

Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."

"Dad don't-"

"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.

He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."

"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."

"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"

"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.

He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.

Now all he had to do was ask.

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whataperfectwasteoftime · 3 months

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Trigger Points

Pairing: Erotic Massage Therapist Ezra x f!reader (not romantic)

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Medical kink, massage kink (is that a thing?), erotic massage, mentions of sexual dysfunction and difficulty orgasming, consent forms, the clinical is erotic now, power imbalance due to the masseur/patient dynamic, mentions of uhhh *checks notes* anal massage, lots of vaginal fingering I mean massaging, pelvic floor massaging but make it erotic, dubcon only in the sense that Ezra says orgasm is not the goal and then definitely deliberately gives her one anyway, g-spot orgasms, squirting, Penny gets on her soapbox at the end

Summary: Ezra is a massage therapist. What kind, you ask? Internal massage. That’s it that’s the fic.

A/N: I wrote this in twenty-four hours in a horny unhinged writing frenzy. Am I embarrassed that this came from my brain? Yes. Am I posting it anyway? Also yes. Thank you to @littlebirdsbookshelf for the beta (and all of the screaming) and to @leslie-lyman for egging on the medical kink that I definitely don't have.

Masterlist

You aren’t sure what you’re doing here.

This isn’t like you.

As you stare at the nondescript building–no sign, no name on the door–you think back to the seemingly random circumstances that brought you here.

The party you hadn’t wanted to go to.

The friend–acquaintance–who insisted.

The man with a distinctive blonde streak that kept lingering by the snack table and popping cocktail shrimp into his mouth with an enthusiasm that had made you look twice in wary amusement.

Like so many men, he’d taken your glance in his direction as an invitation to come over and start a conversation, but the resulting discussion was decidedly unlike any other man–or human–you’d come across.

Loquacious to the point of being humorous, the man–Ezra, he told you–was disarming and insightful. You opened up to him immediately; he seemed to have this uncanny ability to pull your life’s story from your lips, much to your surprise and chagrin. Did you really tell a strange man at a party that you’ve been from doctor to doctor, complaining of sexual pain and dysfunction, only to be given dismissive, unhelpful advice? Have a glass of wine, one said. Use different soap, said another. Make sure your laundry detergent is fragrance-free.

“I think I’m just built wrong,” you said bitterly, taking a sip from your wine glass. “Anyway, it’s fine. You didn’t sign up to listen to a stranger’s problems at some house party.”

“On the contrary,” Ezra replied mysteriously, raising one eyebrow as he regarded you with amusement. “I think our fortuitous meeting must have been arranged by the universe itself.”

Fishing his wallet out of his back pocket, he had handed you a business card that had only his first name–Ezra, no last name, and a phone number.

“I just happen to be a certified massage therapist, trained to assist with the very complaints of which you speak.”

“What kind of massage?” you’d asked, scrunching up your face in skepticism.

“Internal massage.”

You may have told him to fuck off then and there. You may have made your excuses and left the party in your embarrassment over having spilled your heart to a stranger with a questionable line of work, to say the very least.

…You may have called two weeks later to inquire about an appointment.

The woman who answered the phone in that same kind of warm, soothing tone that seems to be common in so many legitimate massage practices made you feel slightly less insane about calling. The lengthy consent form she emailed after hanging up, however, sent you spiraling again.

Extensive questions about sexual history, your beliefs about sex, your relationship to sex, your experience with pain, dysfunction, your sexuality, etc. Check boxes indicating your level of experience and comfort with a number of sexual acts and situations. And at the end, three check boxes asking whether you would like to be massaged vaginally, anally, or both.

A bell tinkles pleasantly when you open the door, and the scent of lavender fills your nose. Soft, soothing music plays from a hidden speaker somewhere, and one of those self-contained rock garden water fountains bubbles away in the corner of the brightly lit waiting room.

A woman behind the desk greets you–it must be the same one you’d spoken to on the phone–and checks you in. She walks you through what to expect during the appointment–first, you’ll meet with Ezra to discuss the consent form, then you’ll be asked to disrobe and lay on the massage table under a sheet. The type of care you’re given, she tells you, depends on what you put down on the consent form, which of course she hasn’t read, so she can’t tell you any specifics.

“But he specializes in women with sexual dysfunction?” you ask skeptically. It had said as much on the forms.

“Oh, yes,” the woman nods enthusiastically. “I know it’s an unusual service he provides, but Ezra is a professional, conscientious, and passionate about the work he does.”

You nod slowly, and she flashes you a warm, comforting smile before instructing you to sit anywhere.

You do, trying not to look too nervous as you wait.

Thankfully, you aren’t there for too long before a door opens, and Ezra softly calls your name.

Your nerves cause you to babble as you follow the man to the quiet, dimly-lit massage room. “Sorry I told you to fuck off,” you say. “That was pretty rude, and I’m sure it’s weird that I’m here now even though I clearly thought you were a pervert at the party, and–” you trail off, standing awkwardly beside the massage table as Ezra sits on a rolling stool.

“Now, now. Water under the bridge, I assure you, sprite. My profession is often met with skepticism at best and outright hostility at worst, but I let the testimonials speak for themselves. I assume you’ve read them?”

You nod, thinking back to the paragraphs of women saying they’d never known their bodies were capable of such pleasure before experiencing what they had called erotic massage.

“And I have read your consent form very carefully; I like to commit these things to heart, you see. Helps me do my job to the very best of my ability. Now, I did have a question about your very last answer: you made a checkmark indicating you were interested in vaginal massage only, but drew in a little question-mark next to anal massage.”

“I’m not sure yet,” you say, too quickly, jumbling the words together. “Depends on how… how…”

“How everything goes. Of course.” Ezra nods, making a quick note on your form. “I’ll consider you to be a vaginal-only patient for now, to be revisited at a later date if so desired.”

“Kay,” you squeak.

“Allright, let me give you a rundown of how this works. I’m not a sex worker; my job isn’t to make you orgasm. Like any massage therapist, my job is to find muscles that need to be worked out, and work them out. I just happen to specialize in muscles that other areas of practice typically ignore. This will involve both internal and external work–you might find that I might press on your lower abdomen, for example, with the other hand inside you. I always start slow with new patients; I’ll begin externally, massaging the entire pubic area and finding spots that might require extra attention. When you’re ready, we’ll move to an internal massage starting with one finger and seeing how many is most comfortable for you right now. Eventually, as we progress through your appointments, the goal is for the internal massage to involve two hands.

“Now, all that being said, the goal of these sessions might not be orgasm, but I want to let you know that it is normal and okay if that happens during your massage,” Ezra continues. “This is a safe space, and your comfort and pleasure is encouraged through this process. All of that seem hunky-dory?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod rapidly.

“Perfect. If you’re ready to get started, I’ll leave the room so you can get undressed. You can undress only from the waist down if you’re comfortable, or you can disrobe completely; the rest of you will be covered by the sheet, so it’s all down to what you prefer.”

Ezra leaves, the door clicking shut behind him, and you take a few moments to steady yourself before taking off only your pants and underwear. Grimacing at the awkwardness, you tuck the underwear into your jeans and place your shoes on top of both on the spare chair in the corner of the room. Then, you lie down under the sheet and wait.

Ezra taps lightly to herald his return before opening the door. “Good,” he says, seeing you laying stiffly on the massage table. “I’m going to check in many times during this first appointment especially,” he explains. “So much so that you may tire of it. You may simply say ‘good,’ when I ask how you are feeling, and I will continue. If you do not feel good at any point, I must ask that you say so. Sound okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, this massage table is custom made for my area of practice specifically,” Ezra explains, reaching under the table and unfolding a pair of stirrups–the kind you’ve seen many times at the gynecologist–and you grimace.

“Ah, I know, most people on this table do not have the most positive memories associated with these,” Ezra tuts, “and if you aren’t sure about using these, we can simply rest your legs on either side of the table.”

“I think I’m okay,” you tell him, cautiously reaching your feet out until your legs are uncomfortably splayed open.

“You tell me if that changes.” Ezra sits down on the stool and rolls it over to sit at the front of the table. “I’m going to do the external massage with the sheet down,” he says. “No need for a cold breeze if it isn’t necessary, after all. As discussed before, I’m going to feel around the entire pubic area, finding anything that needs extra attention. If you’ve gotten a regular massage, you might notice that this one is much gentler; there won’t be any harsh poking or prodding, just light pressure and rubbing. If that’s all good, sprite, say the word and I’ll begin.”

“I’m good.”

“Very good. First, we’re going to warm up a little by touching your inner thighs. All muscles in this area are interconnected, so this will help soften things up as well.”

You keep your eyes closed and let out a slow breath through pursed lips as you feel Ezra’s large, warm hands slowly working out the tension in your thighs. The unfamiliar feeling of someone’s hands in such an intimate area is an odd one, at first, but you can’t help but slowly begin to relax as he works out the delicate muscles of the upper-most part of your legs.

“Checking in again, sprite, how are we feeling?”

“Good,” you answer, with a little more confidence this time. “It’s good.”

“Excellent,” Ezra praises. “If we’re feeling nice and comfortable about it, I’m going to start to move upward and inward. You’ll feel me touch your outer labia, your perineum, and your pubic bone as we move forward. How do we feel about that?”

“Nervous,” you admit, giggling awkwardly. “But good.”

“Of course, sprite, it’s normal to be nervous about an unfamiliar sensation. Always remember that you are able to say ‘stop’ at any time.”

At your nod, Ezra’s hands shift, his thumbs beginning to rub up and down the outside of your labia. He rubs little circles around the entire area, including–something that makes your entire body flush with heat immediately–the skin just above your little puckered hole.

“I know, I know,” Ezra soothes. “Just trying to get a complete picture here. We aren’t doing any internal massage in this area, but you may feel my fingers on the skin around it occasionally.”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding again.

“You’re doing so well, sprite. I’m going to stay external, but we’re going to start to examine a little deeper, does that sound okay? I’ll be rubbing your inner labia this time, spreading them apart to examine your vulva, urethra, and clitoris with my fingers. This is where it might start to feel pleasurable, or it could feel odd and uncomfortable as you become accustomed to this type of massage.”

“Yep,” you say, voice tight with anxiety again.

“I need a little bit more than that, sprite,” Ezra chastises. “Are you good to continue?”

“Yes. Good.”

“I can tell you’re nervous; why don’t you take a deep breath in for me for the count of five…” he counts slowly as you obey, “...and as you let it out slowly, you’re going to feel my hands move inward.”

The feel of Ezra running his slicked fingers up and down your inner labia doesn’t feel quite as uncomfortable as you’d feared. You’ve never been touched like this, or even touched yourself like this. It’s an exploration of sorts, collecting some data that means something only to him, perhaps. After a short time, he pulls you apart with his thumb and forefinger, spreading you open.

“I’m going to rub back and forth just on the surface level,” Ezra says, “You might feel my thumb press down on a few places to locate any areas to focus on later.”

You take more slow, even breaths as you feel his warm thumb move from your perineum to your clit, then back down again. In a few places, he presses down, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb as he locates some unknown source of tension.

“How well you're doing,” Ezra praises warmly. “I've definitely found some areas of tension that we can work on during your sessions. This isn't the end of the external massage, per se, as I'll still want to work on some of those spots, but this is where I start to add an internal component, if you're up to it. What are we thinking?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I'm okay with that.”

“Good. As I explained before, I'm going to start very slow. I work with clients with a wide range of comfort levels and ability, and I'm not going to push anyone too far before they're ready. Not to be glib or reductive, but this is not dissimilar to a basic shoulder massage. I'll be working all along the muscles of your vaginal wall. We'll start with just one finger, and if that's comfortable for you, we'll see how it goes with two. I'm going to slowly slide one finger in, let you adjust to how that feels, and then I'll begin the massage on your right side, moving to the back, the left, and then the front, around in a little circle like so. At the same time I'll be gently pressing with my other hand so that I can get a feel for the muscles that are stiff, sore, or carry any tension. If at any point any sensation is unpleasant, please bring it to my attention immediately. In that event, I will stop and reassess. If that discomfort is the result of muscle or pelvic floor tension, we will slowly, slowly work through it without causing you any pain. Is all of this acceptable?”

“Yes.”

“And am I okay to begin your internal massage?”

“Yes.”

“Very good. Just as before, I'm going to spread open your labia nice and wide, only this time you are going to feel my finger slowly enter you. Once inside, we'll take a few deep breaths together, I'll ask if you are comfortable, and I'll begin the massage.”

As Ezra speaks, he does each action in turn. You feel your labia being parted, and then one slick, warm finger slips inside. It hits a bit of resistance when he passes your pelvic floor, but doesn't cause any pain. At his instruction, he guides you through three deep breaths as you become accustomed to the sensation.

“I'm going to begin moving now,” he announces. “Beginning on your left side.”

It's an odd feeling to adjust to, the way Ezra’s finger moves inside you. With his other hand pressing sometimes on your hip, sometimes at your side, you can feel him pressing against your wall in–true to his word–the same way one might massage a shoulder. This is just… very different. Or perhaps it's the same, and your brain only perceives it as such.

Despite the awkwardness of having someone rubbing such an intimate, deep, vulnerable part of your body, you can admit that something does feel good about this. Ezra is right, of course; there are muscles internally as well as externally, and you've never had yours attended to in such a way before.

Ezra’s finger rubs this way and that, covering all possible knots and tense spots on that particular side.

“Checking in, sprite,” he intones gently. “How does it feel?”

“Weird… but kinda good. I think I understand why you say it's just like a shoulder massage–I never really thought about having muscles there, but… I can feel them relaxing the same way they would as… as if it were my shoulder.”

“No physical difference between the two,” Ezra says, voicing your earlier thought. “Only up here do we make a distinction.” He taps the side of his head and gives you a sideways grin. “If we’re feeling pretty good with one, would you like to try adding one more? It all depends on your level of comfort, but it is easier to get at the muscles with two, rather than one. Would you like to try?”

The gentle loosening of the muscles you hadn't even known were tense is surprisingly soothing, so of course, you agree.

“You're doing so well at checking in with me,” Ezra says. “Take a nice deep breath for me, and we’ll switch to two fingers. Ready?”

You make a little noise of assent, and as you exhale, you feel the pressure inside you increase as Ezra slips another finger inside you.

“Doing good, sprite. I’m going to move to the muscles at the back of your vaginal walls now, which means my other hand is going to be pressing up on your lower back and buttocks. Is this fine?”

“That’s fine, yeah,” you nod, and at your consent, Ezra goes back to his steady, methodical working of your pelvic floor.

At this new angle, the sensations inside you are new and different from before. When he was massaging your left side, all you could really feel was the gentle push and pull as your muscles were soothed and relaxed. You can still feel the muscle tension easing away… but it’s very quickly being replaced by a different kind.

You try to focus on taking deep breaths in and out of your nose as Ezra seems to draw heat into your core with every stroke. You stop focusing on the relaxation entirely, instead concentrating every effort to not make any awkward noises that indicate how much your body is responding to his touch.

You really should have known better.

“Many people find that different areas of the vaginal wall can cause different kinds of sensations,” Ezra says quietly as he gently rubs small circles from within you while pressing just above your puckered hole. “The front vaginal wall, of course, has the tendency to produce the strongest impression because of what most people call the g-spot, but the rear wall is also very responsive. I want to remind you of what we discussed earlier; that you are welcome and encouraged to lean into those feelings. It is common for patients to come to orgasm multiple times during a session, and can be helpful for further muscle relaxation. All this to say, sprite, you don’t have to work to suppress the fact that this feels pleasurable. Of course it does. It’s far more advantageous for you to allow it to happen rather than spend the session working to rein it in. Understand?”

“Y-Yeah,” you nod, trying to sink back down onto the massage table again and stop fighting against your body’s automatic responses.

Even so, you don’t really believe you could orgasm from just this. Hell, you can barely orgasm during sex even when you use a vibrator. Your body’s need for intense, prolonged clitoral stimulation is simply a fact. A law, as immutable as gravity, and no amount of “internal massage” would ever have the same effect.

“If you ever do wish to revisit that last little question on the consent form, one type of treatment that can be incredibly effective is to massage the area in between, if you take my meaning,” Ezra comments lightly, as though discussing the weather. “It’s perfectly workable through what I’m doing now, of course, but even though I’m capturing the same general area, in my years of practice I’ve actually found that anal massage is an important component in achieving a comprehensive relaxation of all pelvic muscles.”

“Okay,” you say dumbly. His words–all the more impactful because of the detached clinical tone–combined with the constant pressure of his fingers, are creating a maelstrom of pleasure in your brain. You still aren’t sure if you’re “allowed” to find this entire situation to be incredibly erotic, but you worry you’ll soon have no choice, especially if your mind keeps conjuring up how it might feel to have both of Ezra’s hands rubbing something deep within you. How full you might feel.

“Nothing that needs to be discussed now or even in the near future, sprite,” he adds. “But just something to keep in the back of your mind as we progress through treatment.”

“Mm,” you agree. It’s–oh God, are you going to come? The pressure is building, building inside you, and even though there’s nothing touching your clit, it feels as though you might be reaching that point of no return. You make a soft, whining, desperate little sound as Ezra massages your vaginal wall with methodical precision.

“I know, I know,” he soothes in that syrupy voice of his. “Take a few deep breaths for me–I promise, it’s okay to let it go. Allow your body to do what it’s meant to do.” At this, he presses down even harder, and you gasp as you suddenly begin to clench around his fingers. Your chest heaves as you ride the waves of pleasure until they subside to a gentle ebb. Ezra remains still throughout it all, waiting patiently until you stop twitching with aftershocks.

“See? So much better when you listen to your body,” he praises. “Can you feel that? It causes your muscles to relax even further, so much more effectively than even I can manage. Feel the difference right here–” he rubs a wide circle up and down your wall, “–there’s so much less tension now, isn’t there?”

“Yeah,” you agree, still catching your breath.

“Let’s do a quick check-in before I move on,” Ezra suggests, “and while we do, I’d like to make a quick recommendation, if you are amenable.”

“That’s fine,” you answer.

“Give us a quick run-down of how you’re feeling,” he says. “Any pain? Discomfort?” When you shake your head, he continues. “How about mentally? Orgasm can make us feel vulnerable, and that’s perfectly okay, of course, but not if it leads to feeling uncomfortable or unsafe.”

“It still feels a little… strange, but I’m okay.”

“Ah, of course. Now, as far as my recommendation… Now that you’re far more relaxed, I think it might be helpful to switch to three fingers. How do you feel about that?”

You swallow. “It might feel like a lot,” you admit quietly.

“Indeed,” Ezra agrees. “As a general rule, the more fingers I am able to use, the more effective the massage. The ideal internal massage would be either with all four fingers on one hand, or a combination of three and two. If you’re feeling at all apprehensive about discomfort, however, I think it would be better to wait and see, yes?”

“Yes,” you nod gratefully.

“Moving on to your right side, sprite,” he says cheerfully. “Halfway there, and doing great.”

You can see what Ezra had been saying–you can feel that your walls are more pliant and moldable after your orgasm. However, it’s also made your nerves more sensitive to his touch, and the intense feeling of pleasure continues to flicker inside you with every gentle probe of his fingers.

You begin to float, losing track of time and simply focusing on the sensations within you. Ezra quiets down when he senses your more meditative state, and continues to massage with minimal commentary. When his thick fingers begin to move, pressing upward toward your abdomen, however, your breath catches and your hips lift of their own accord.

“My apologies, sprite. I should have warned you I was moving to the front wall before I did so, but you were in such a state of utter relaxation that I was loathe to speak up.”

“S’fine.”

“You may find this area to be the most intense in terms of sensation,” Ezra comments. “There’s a reason I usually save it for last.”

You make a slightly garbled, strained noise of assent as his other hand rubs gentle circles on your mons pubis while the other continues its deliberate path up and down your walls, soothing out all of the tension and finding some incredibly sensitive spots as it does.

Ezra pauses over one such area, and, in such exquisite torture that makes you actually cry out into the room, curls both fingers up to apply even more pressure.

“Ah, that,” he chuckles to himself. “That thing–the little area they call the ‘g-spot’–it’s not some mysterious, unique phenomenon, nor is it mythological. What they didn’t know at the time–and far too many people still are not aware–is that the clitoris is much larger than just the little bit that we see on the outside.” His fingers rub little circles, back and forth, up and down, massaging so meticulously that it feels almost ruthless. “Sooo many nerves in one relatively small place,” he murmurs. “Stimulating the clitoris is normally the most reliable way to acheive orgasm, and yet so little of it is accessible. But here–” he presses up again, and you gasp, “–here we are able to access the other end of the organ.”

You can hardly concentrate on the original goal of muscle relaxation with so much pressure on your g-spot (or, apparently, the back of your clitoris) but you can still feel Ezra dutifully and clinically working out the tension in your pelvic floor.

“Doing so well, sprite, so well. One nice, big, relaxing orgasm for me and then we’ll gently explore how the tension lessens afterward.”

Despite his insistence before your appointment that orgasm was not the goal of these sessions, you can’t help but notice Ezra appears to be guiding you towards one with masterful precision. With one hand applying light pressure on your abdomen and the other pressing upward to meet it, it feels as though he’s got the most sensitive organ of your body trapped between his fingers. He plays it like an instrument, each finger working independently to stroke different parts of the soft, spongy membrane.

Finally, finally, the pressure becomes so much that you simply seem to implode; all at once, you clamp down on Ezra’s fingers like a vice as your lower back lifts from the table. A feeling of pure, hot, wet relief surges through you, and the release feels endless, as though your body simply cannot stop pulsing and contracting. Dimly, you realize that it must be the ruthless stimulation from Ezra’s hands keeping you suspended in what feels like a never-ending orgasm. His fingers press upwards, rubbing quickly and insistently back and forth against the sensitive organ, and the movement draws more and more rhythmic clenches that seem to ripple across the entire area.

And–Oh, God–with each intense throb, little streams of fluid splash out over Ezra’s hand, and you realize with absolute mortification that the sheet, massage table, and Ezra’s white coat are already soaked with your release.

“Oh shit, I’m sorr–” you try to apologize as soon as you have the presence of mind.

“Now, now, not to worry, little sprite. Any manifestation of pleasure is welcomed and encouraged here, and I’ve been at this long enough to know that stimulating the back of the clitoris oftentimes results in strong and voluminous ejaculations…” You twitch with one last, pathetic aftershock, and Ezra soothingly rubs his fingers up and down your wall in the same way one might rub someone’s back after a long day. “But feel the difference, little sprite. Feel how supple and pliant your muscles are compared to before. This is the state we strive for, little sprite. Complete and utter relaxation. When you find yourself starting to tense up again–such is the consequence of the stressful lives we lead–I want you to call up this moment, and the way your pelvic muscles so easily move for my hand, and try to get back to this state. With enough practice on your own in between sessions, this will become easily achieved.

“I’m going to do a couple of nice, wide circles with my hand to stretch out those muscles one last time, and as I do, I’d like you to take some nice, deep, easy breaths with me. Once we get to five nice big breaths, I’ll slowly remove my hand. Does this sound good?”

“Yuh-huh,” you nod.

“Nice big inhale,” Ezra reminds you, and you dutifully suck in a deep, cleansing breath of air as you feel his hand circle around your vaginal walls, pressing deep into the muscle as he does. You repeat the action four more times, and on your very last exhale, the light feeling of pressure within you finally abates as his fingers slip out of you.

“How do you feel?”

“Pretty relaxed,” you say with a relieved laugh.

“Mentally?” he prods.

“I dunno, fine,” you shrug.

“Any feelings of vulnerability are normal,” he says as he stands from his stool and helps you guide your legs out of the stirrups and back onto the table under the sheet. “You may find that these feelings may be delayed by a few days, even, so be gentle with yourself for the next week or so. Light muscle soreness is also normal, in the same way it can occur after a normal massage. If at any time this light soreness transforms into pain, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

Ezra picks up your consent form again and scans it briefly before setting it back down and giving you a serious, thoughtful look. “You told me three weeks ago that you were ‘built wrong,’ and you mention several times in your form that you have difficulty bringing yourself to orgasm. Little sprite, I have lost count of the number of clients who have the same complaints and who have similarly insisted their bodies were simply different from ‘normal’ people’s. Now, mind you, the sample size may be biased, but from this data I can only conclude that no human being is ‘built wrong.’ The problem lies in our minds, and more specifically, in the social conditioning we’ve all received since birth–conditioning that in no way favors the female experience of pleasure. Society has failed you, has labeled your pleasure as secondary, illusive, impossible, or even imaginary. Your sessions with me will help to reverse the physical symptoms from a lifetime of unhelpful social conditioning, and now that you know your body is not only capable of experiencing pleasure, but of doing so in ways you weren’t even aware, your mind will follow.”

“Wow,” you breathe, awestruck by how different you feel. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I’ll leave you to get dressed, little sprite,” Ezra says, briefly patting your hand in a comforting manner. “When you’re ready, go ahead and open the door and I’ll walk you to the lobby to schedule your next appointment.”

#ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra x f!reader #pedro pascal #prospect fanfiction

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atelierlili · 29 days

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In-Panem/Not Reaped Everlark AUs

Got asked to give some fanfic recommendations for In-Panem/Not Reaped Everlark AUs so here we are. Most of them (if not all of them) are gonna be fluffy and happy tbh because i can't take my pookies being hurt ):

Completed:

A New Path (138k words) by Endlessnightlock

The day after aging out of the Reaping, Katniss crosses paths with Peeta. She thanks him for the bread and to her surprise, a tentative friendship begins.

One of my favourites. I love the direction the author took with this story. Always made me want more!

Go Slow, Peeta (20k words) by Oakfarmer

The era of the Hunger Games has come to an end. How Everlark slowly happened anyway.

This was the one that started it all for me. Short, simple and to the point! A classic in my opinion.

Nothing Owed for a Gift (10k words) by orphaned account

Lately, Merchants have taken to flirting with unwitting Seam folk as a joke, sometimes going so far as to ask them out on a date. I've even heard of a couple instances of a Merchant asking someone from the Seam to marry them, and then laughing hysterically when the poor recipient says 'yes'. So, when Peeta Mellark approaches me after the reaping, red with nerves and pushing his lips together as if he's trying very hard not to do something like laugh, I'm immediately wary. Peeta can't possibly be asking me to marry him for real. ... right?

Urgh. Literally one of my favourite one-shots.

Inevitability (44k words) by Xerxia

What if? What if Peeta and Prim hadn't been reaped?

Definitely not the fluffiest fics in the list, but Katniss absolutely SHINES here. And Peeta stays very true to his character as well. Absolutely worth the read.

It Takes A District (55k words) by MTK4FUN

Thinking her mother is dying, Katniss Everdeen marries Peeta Mellark to keep her sister out of the Community Home.

I love this fic. I don't know what it is, but there's something about it that makes it standout on its own.

Katniss Everdeen Is Not A Stalker (241k words) by MegaAuLover

Katniss as a little problem, she can't stop looking through Peeta's window, trying to find a way to pay her boy with the bread back but as time goes on she realizes she wants more. But there is a problem the District is flooded with Peacekeepers and everyone faces danger as the Capitol tightens its reigns on the district. Can love bloom in the middle of adversity? Or will it shrivel in the face of surmounting danger?

This is the one. Easily one of the bestest AUs imo. Very long read- but I will be naming my first born after the squirrel. The Everlark relationship here is A+++.

Incomplete/Ongoing:

( I know its weird to recommend incomplete fics, some these ones are legitimately my favourite fics and think are still worth the read.)

Cavedweller (79k words) by Jennajuicebox (last update: 2021-01-25)

Her mother once told her she was brave. A word Katniss wouldn't have chosen for herself. Brave implies that you run headlong into the scary unknown. Brave implies you face the things that want you dead. It dredges up thoughts of conquering armies and swords raised over head. Katniss isn't brave. As much as she would never admit it to herself she is scared out of her wits. She is staring into a gaping chasm, waiting for it to swallow her whole.

I love AUs that explore Katniss otherside of the family so much. As always, the Everlark development here is absolutely heartwarming and delicious. 10/10

On the Threshold ( 97k words) by ghtlovesthg (last update: 2020-06-26)

Nineteen and free from the Reapings forever, Katniss finds a token on her doorstep commemorating her passage over the threshold of adulthood. Discovering the identity of the sender will start Katniss on a road that leads toward life's other milestones.

This is exactly how I envisioned Everlark would get together had it not been for the Reapings. So so so so good. There is just enough here to be satisfied that the fic is unfinished ; w;

hope you find something you like! I always have more if you want more to sink your teeth into <3 Happy readings!

@heartforeyes @the-tiny-fangirl

#everlark #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #these are just a few I have sitting around in my bookmarks.#I know I have a few that I haven't added because I forgot ;Q:

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howdoesagrapewrites · 4 months

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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐲𝐫𝐞

Plot: You, the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen grew up with a very devoted extended family. But after the dance of dragons begins, you know exactly on what side you belong

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, mentions of noncon, Aegon being... Him

Notes: I didn't love to make such a long post for the last ending, so this will be a series as well (and I also find it more convenient as people tend to be less likely to read long posts)

You will understand this better if you read this ending

>The night of king Viserys' last supper, you were the victim of a mysterious illness, and were forced to stay in King's Landing as your family returned to Dragonstone

>Since then, you had to be a witness of Aegon's usurpation, and were forced to marry prince Aemond, becoming a prisoner in the strong walls of the red keep in all but name

>You decided very early on that you will return home to your family, you will not be accomplice to this insult to the rightful heir, Rhaenyra

>You loved Alicent, you did, but what she did to you, to your family, was a betrayal. She married you to Aemond, even though she knew of your affection for Daeron, she marries you without your permission or even announcement, she marries you to Aemond, as if it was her call, as if she was in her right to betroth you to anyone

>And the one who you thought of as a brave knight, was silent to the whole thing, not a word to say to you

>In a span of mere days, your affection for them had virtually vanished

>It was hard, and it hurt to feel like all your life you had trusted people who would treat you like this

>Especially for Daeron and Alicent

>But you will have time to mourn later

>You tell yourself you can't let your feelings stale you

>It was the night after Aegon's coronation, Aemond, should be asleep next to you, but he is too busy on the council, fooling himself acting as hand of the king

>Which it's perfect for you, since you want to do anything you can to avoid consummating your marriage

>Your father had taught you everything about the secret passages in the Red Keep, he knew them as well as king Maegor himself, and though you could not memorize it as well, it was enough to know how to get out

>But you had a mission first

>"He wears the conqueror's crown, wields the conqueror's sword and has the conqueror's name" said Alicent

>It was too soon to take away his crown, you not take away his name, but you certainly could take away his sword. It's not like he'd use it anyway

>You looked in the mirror and fixed yourself before going out through the passages, you felt a little disgusted with yourself

>It took you some time to get to Aegon's chambers, (to your surprise) Aegon was there instead of a rat infested brothel

>Still, he was much too drunk to notice you, and he was alone. It had been years since he and Helaena had shared a bed. You pitied her, but at least she was lucky, she had given not one but two male heirs, and she had no reason to keep "trying" with Aegon

>You walked on your tiptoes, the sword was hanging in the wall next to his bed, you feared the sound of metal would wake him up

>But it didn't, he instead was (somehow) was sober enough to know you were there, and most importantly, to know it was you

>"Y/N, you are here..." His voice was as drowsy as it was whiny "Came to congratulate the king?" You could see his repugnant smirk aimed at you

>"Indeed, your grace" you lied

>"Come here, here" he sat on the pillows and patted on the mattress to invite you

>"I don't think that would be appropriate, your grace" you were tense, and scared. You avoided him, you don't remember well when it happened, but he changed, he scared you, you feared he might do something to you, and you could do nothing to retaliate, now it was worse, he was the king

>"Pleaaseeeee, pleaseee, just a bit, just for now, I won't do anything" he promised

>"I truly do not think it would be fitting for your grace to be in that position... Even in innocently" you really hoped for the "innocently" part to be true

>But Aegon did the face a child does once they remember something important, like a candle lighting on their head "But I'm your grace, I'm the king, I demand you come here"

>You could do nothing to those words, so you obeyed

>You sat down at the edge of his bed, but he signaled you to be closer, next to him

>"I like when you say your grace, when you say it to me" he smiled

>"It is how one must address you now, just that"

>Aegon pouted

>"Do you love me?"

>You were speechless, and struggled to come up with a polite response to that, you finally just said every subject must love the king, you just prayed for safety being so close, so late, so alone with him

>"But do you love me? Me? Do you love me now?"

>"I- I beg your pardon?"

>"I wanted you to love me, Y/N, do you love me now? I'm king, do you love me now?" He was drunk, slurring his words and repeating them

>You blushed and you felt your heart pound, you were scared, you knew that. But you were also even a little sad for him, you wanted to look at him the way you did when you both were young, you could, and at the same time, it was impossible

>You don't remember how he ended up in front of you, facing you with sad eyes, and unmistakable stink of wine, that reminded you of who he was now

>"I think I'll always love you, Aegon" you wanted to believe it was a lie you told yourself it was

>A tear or two ran through his pale cheeks and he threw himself to your arms, almost knocking you beneath him in bed

>But instead of the lecherous predatory behavior you expected, he just kissed your cheeks and tried to kiss you in the mouth, it was gross, wet, he was drunk so he was salivating

>You grabbed his face with your hands and placed a kiss on his forehead, he asked for more, but he instantly decided he was tired, and grabbed you like a ragdoll, pushing you to the pillows and beneath the blankets with him, you're still fully clothed so it feels heavy. Aegon hugs you like a Teddy bear until he quickly falls asleep, when you try to leave, he complains in his sleep and grabs the fabric of your clothes. But you manage to slip a pillow in between his arms to replace you

>You look at him for the last time before stealing Blackfyre, and think of how different things could have been.

>Once you have the sword with you, you stay in between the walls for some time. Your dragon is not in the dragonpit, how do you find him?

>You can't go to the city, you can't risk having the sword stolen from you

>This might be a suicide, this probably is a suicide, but is all you got

>You decide to go to the dragonpit, you'll ride a dragon to find a dragon. The rule has always been: one rider, one dragon, one dragon, one ride. But you are desperate

>When you get to the pit, you wonder who could be the best dragon to ride for the search, Tessarion is here, but only ever rode alongside her, same for Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. Trying to tame an unclaimed dragon is dangerous, and even if you could, Dagahrion may kill them

>But there's one that knows you very well: Vhagar

>You rode on her back when she was Laena's, you were a little lass still, but she remembers you. And you rode her with Aemond last night

>It is better than nothing, and if she ate you, you know she's so big it'd be a quick death

>You pet her, and she gives into your touch

>You keep calming and buttering her up before you get on top. You're used to riding a large dragon, but she's different, every dragon is, you suppose

>You feel sorry for the ruckus caused when you and Vhagar ascended, poor dragonkeepers

>Your running was obviously not silent

>And so the search for Dagahrion begins. You have to find him before Vhagar decides to kick you off her back

>And before any other dragon comes looking for you

#yandere hotd #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere targaryens #hotd x reader #Targaryens x reader #yandere aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen x reader #yandere aemond targaryen

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exhuastedpigeon · 2 months

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Buddie Hiatus Fic Recs - Month 4 August 16 - Sept 15

I think is my favourite rec list for this little project so far. It has some of my all time favourite Buddie fics on it, fics that I've read over and over again because they just bring me so much joy.

Previous lists linked at the bottom!

0-5k

here (in your arms) by devirnis / @devirnis Explicit | 2.3k I have had THE WORST day. When I finally get home, I’m going to pass out and sleep like a rock, and then I want to wake up with you inside me.

the art of peeling mandarins for the one you love by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 3.9k Buck asks Eddie to marry him in the kitchen, of all places.

5k-10k

but i've got my teeth in you by oklahoma / @sunshinediazTeen | 5.5k bad things happen bingo—tooth knocked out

you're the cream in my coffee by 42hrb Explicit | 8.6k Buddie coffee shop AU where everything is different, but they’re still idiots in love

wood you be mine? by MonsterRae1 / @monsterrae1 Mature | 9k the Lumberjack Buck fic.

10k-20k

With Great Power Comes Great Pining by Princessfbi / @princessfbi Teen | 10.4k It was the lightning strike. That had to be it. It was the only logical conclusion. Though, when it comes to being able to suddenly read people’s minds, Buck supposed there wasn’t a whole lot of logic involved.

endless numbered days by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Gen | 13.1k When a big event in the lives of the members of the 118 falls on the same weekend as Bobby's late son's birthday, Bobby finds himself reflecting on grief, fatherhood, and life after loss.

The Scroll of Saint Barnabas by Amiril / @runawaymarbles Mature | 15k The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.

Say Yes, and Figure It Out Afterwards by catwalksalone Explicit | 13.3k Buck and Eddie figure out a mutually beneficial way to deal with the first responder post-trauma cycle of up-horny-down.

Share the Joy by TalkNerdyToMe6 Teen | 14.2k After the lightning strike, Buck discovers he has more than just the ability to do long division in his head. Every time he touches Eddie, everything the other man is feeling moves through him like a wave of emotion, there and gone again. Buck can’t decide if that’s a blessing or a curse.

20k - 30k

light through the wave tips by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Explicit | 21.9k When Buck and Eddie planned a vacation with their kids over a year ago, they hadn’t exactly planned on bringing a seven-month-old baby along with them. Surely wrangling three kids can't be too much of a challenge—that is, if it weren't for Christopher's steadily worsening mood.

Cutting The Ties That Bind by kristen999 / @thekristen999 Mature | 34.4k Evan Buckley was a businessman, he had meetings and deadlines like everyone else. Sometimes he used intimation. While using the very same tactics he was trying to end while converting his family business into legitimate operations was a little hypocritical, it was the results that mattered.

Occasionally, he got threatened, but it was usually all hot air and ego. That all changed the day his breaks were tampered with. Enter Eddie Diaz, security specialist, who was not easily impressed by Buck’s expensive suits or financial conquests. That was okay. Buck enjoyed a challenge.

30k +

family (portrait) by ProsperDemeter / @prosperdemeter2 Teen | 45.1k realizing that the family that you need has been beside you all along.

like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Explicit | 51.1k evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen | 79.8 Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica

what a heart can do by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Teen | 85.5k In which Buck becomes the guardian of the daughter he never knew he had. Together, they discover what happiness truly means to them.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15)

#Buddie #rec list #buddie rec list #buddie hiatus rec list #911 #seriously i've reread like a dog with a bird at your door like 9 times #and being eddie?? it changed me as a human #and don't get me started on the art of peeling mandarins for the one you love

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anonymous-dentist · 6 months

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Honestly? I think everything goes back to the night Cellbit found out that he and Bagi are siblings, because several things happened that night:

Cellbit admitted that he killed Maximiliano the Worker and that he liked it

Cellbit found out he’s missing 11 or so years of his life and that he could’ve had a happy childhood with an actual family who loved him if the Federation hadn’t sent him away

Bagi told Cellbit that she’d be there for him even if he started killing again

Cellbit got confirmation that Bad kidnapped that missing worker

Cellbit also made a very important point: the Federation is spreading itself thin trying to find this missing worker

Cellbit told Bad that his proposed revolution would not exclude regular Federation workers unless they betrayed the Federation because, if they don’t, then they’re complicit in the Federation’s wrongdoings

And now we’re here with four dead Federation workers and a Federation clearly struggling to keep things under control, and I think that that’s the point. The Federation has spread itself too thin.

We saw this even in Cucurucho’s presentation during the Mini-Me event when it basically admitted that the Feds have no idea what happened to the president. And then we have the Mini-Mes themselves: they’re clearly meant to be protection of some kind for the workers because they can fight at certain levels, and they’re at least meant to be assistants. This was before the killings started, but it was after the Federation’s lower-rank workers started legit just not doing their jobs because they were too scared of getting kidnapped.

Cellbit has a history of taking people’s plans and adapting them to make them his own. His Regret Arc and subsequent Federation infiltration was directly inspired by hearing Quackity try and join the Feds and then Quackity telling him that to beat the Federation, you have to think like the Federation. And now we have Cellbit and Bad talking about how the Federation is creating openings in itself by expending so many resources trying to get the missing worker back, and we can already see the effects of the murders kinda making the Federation even weaker because, and no offense to Foolish, but they’ve legit had to outsource their murder investigation to him instead of using their own staff of A Rank investigators and Security Guards.

If this is Cellbit killing these people, he’s doing it to try and break the Federation to the point of the island’s rebels being able to actually hit the Feds where it hurts and try and take them down. He said himself that he already had an idea as to how to get an opening for his little revolution idea, and he told Bad that it would happen within a week of their conversation. The first body appeared four or five days later.

Cellbit is tired. We know this. He says that he wants to spend time with his family, but he’s also got one hell of a martyr complex going on where he thinks he’s better off dead than he is alive if it means helping people. We’ve seen this in him for months between him running for president to die for Forever, him legitimately banking on getting killed by the Federation during a hypothetical custody trial to get everyone to see how bad the Feds are, him blowing himself up to prove a point, him taking all the fall for the Mini-Me infiltration and accepting the punishment that’ll go with it, and maybe now we’re seeing it in him killing these workers and leaving clues pointing towards it being him.

Cellbit could be killing these workers to start a revolution that he’ll never see finished because he might be expecting to die before the end of it.

#qsmp #started this post last night and here it is

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yokohamapound · 3 months

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HEYYYY! When I tell you I pounce at every update. You’re legitimately my favorite Bungou stray dogs blog. Can I request Dazai and Fyodor with a famous s/o? I think it’s be interesting to see how they’d interact with it all 🫶🏾💕🦋✨

Thank you so much, lovely! I had so much fun writing these. I hope you enjoy!

Characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu

Contents: gn! reader, possessive behaviour, Fyodor being a little shit

Fyodor Dostoevsky

This would be…interesting. I’m usually of the opinion that Fyodor would want to squirrel his s/o away and have them all to himself, away from all the corrupting influences of the world, but this is not necessarily a given. He’s more than capable of dating whomever he pleases, as long as he is in control of almost everything.

It’s possible that he may have targeted you deliberately for a relationship, using you and your fame as a stepping stone in some scheme of his. While he certainly didn’t expect to catch feelings, he’s not going to admit failure on his part or deny himself something that he wants.

He’s extremely camera shy. Fyodor’s been involved with (and betrayed) most of the Gifted organisations and governments in the world, and he’s, y’know, a terrorist, so he can’t exactly show up on the red carpet on your arm.

This doesn’t necessarily set off alarm bells in your mind. As far as you know, he’s some Russian tech genius who just doesn’t want his identity made public. He’s not the celebrity couple type. You’re more than willing to put up with this if it means you get to spend time with those violet eyes and cunning hands.

Your fans are a little obsessed with finding out who your lover is, and there’s a paparazzi who are on the hunt to get a photo of him and flog the picture for big bucks. But there’s only been a few sightings of him, and never anything concrete:

A pale hand reaching out of the limousine to take your hand after you’re leaving an event.

Someone in a dark coat standing next to you, though you can’t see their face.

A photo of you having dinner with a dark-haired man, shot from behind so no one can see the man’s face.

Fyodor’s a master at covering his tracks, whether in real life or digitally, so he’ll remain your phantom boyfriend. I think he leaves these little breadcrumbs out in the world, when he could easily erase them, because he likes your fans knowing that you’re not theirs, you’re his.

The online trolls that will be present on any famous person’s social media should beware Fyodor’s wrath. He’s cold, calculated, and amoral, and he won’t hesitate to retaliate in petty, yet devastating ways, like ruining their credit, framing them for a crime, or even just airing their dirty laundry to all their friends and family. The best part? They won’t even know who or why it happened. But it happens enough that you get a reputation for having a scary fanbase.

In reality, it’s all just one man who dabbles in cyber-crime as a hobby. Heh.

If you’re in movies, TV, or singing duets where you have to pretend to be with someone else, he won’t act crazy jealous. That’s far too brutish. But you will notice an uptick in his possessive behaviour. He always has a hand on you in one way or another, paying more attention to you, etc. Anything to bring your attention back to where it belongs: on him.

If you ever ask him outright if he’s bothered by you being famous, he retorts:

“No, my dear. It amuses me, to think of all those people looking at you, crying out for your love and attention, wanting to be you. And at the end of the day, you come home to me. I have something that none of them ever will~”

Dazai Osamu

At first, Dazai would probably have significant reservations about dating someone famous. A brief fling, sure, but a full relationship is something that’s gonna give him pause. He’d be that way with anyone, but even more so when you spend so much time in the limelight.

He’s not worried about your rabid fans digging into his past and finding out about him being a Port Mafia executive. That shit is too well hidden for even the most determined netizen to find, thanks to Mushitaro’s Special Ability and Ango’s cover-up work.

The simple fact is, Dazai’s a loner.

You’ll see him interacting with the members of the Armed Detective Agency and seeming to be the life of the party at rare points, but if you pay close enough attention, you’ll notice he slips away a lot. Sometimes he’s gone from the office for a day or two. Once all the action is said and done, he’s vanished like a ghost when everyone is too busy celebrating. Being around other people is exhausting for him. If his character is anything like the main protagonist of No Longer Human, it’s because he spends so much time playing the clown and wearing a mask. Other people are difficult for him to interact with.

Being on the arm of someone famous brings a lot of attention his way. Sure, he smiles and laughs about all the guys and girls suddenly swarming into his DMs, trying to get his attention. (More than usual, that is.) But he won’t enjoy it if he can’t go anywhere without being mobbed, or if people expect him to be on TV with you.

His good looks will get him a lot of modelling and movie role offers, most of which he’ll turn down. The only ones he accepts are for…malicious reasons.

“Dazai, you’ve turned down every single offer that comes your way. Why’d you take that hair care one?”

“Oh, that’s very simple, bella. It’s because I knew they’d paste it all over that billboard that faces Chuuya’s penthouse windows. Now he has to look at my face every single day.”

“You’re evil.”

Dazai’s not the jealous type, really, so it won’t bother him in the slightest when the gossip rags publish lies about you flirting with this or that J-Pop star, or when your fans profess their love to you. He’ll pretend to be jealous sometimes, but that’s only because he wants to be dramatic and have you baby him.

He gets a lot of his own fans, even though he doesn’t really want them. It doesn’t stop him from dialling up the charm and sending them swooning, just for shits and giggles. Mostly, he’s sly enough to avoid them.

They figure out where he works and turn up to the office, much to Kunikida’s chagrin.

#yokohama pound #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #fyodor x reader

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13thdoctorposts · 5 months

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Sometimes it’s important to know when to let a show go.

When 13 regenerated into 14 and had her clothes burnt off like a witch on a stake, sending a horrible message about women and gender RTD came out and said he did it to protect David from right wing media. Then the fans defended David coming back and that RTD would address why he had that face and why the clothes also regenerated, although I was upset with 13s regeneration I thought ok I’ll wait and see how this get handles. Because even though I don’t like the real world messaging maybe the in world messaging will be enough to make it ok.

But then what happens? We get a trans story for the very first story with very positive messaging for trans issues which is great but undermined by the fact RTD wanted to protect David from gender critiques by the right wing but didn’t seem to want to protect Yasmin Finney. So first David can’t wear Jodies costume for protection but then RTD has Yasmin live through being deadnamed in the show which she herself has said made her uncomfortable and then also gave her character the line of telling the Doctor to not assume pronouns… which any of the characters could have done but RTD chose Rose and then what happen? What always happens with the right wing, the pronoun line and the male presenting line are the ones that the right wing all go on about in every video, in every article… they deadname the character and then misgender and say horrible things about Yasmin… so RTD protects the 50+ year old white man who’s worn way more feminine things then 13 outfit in his career the media could use if they wanted to go after him but don’t protect the 20 year old Trans Woman? How people aren’t talking about how fucked up that is I don’t know.

Then we get no reason why the Doctor has that face and why the clothes regenerated on them. Then in their own regeneration… they don’t! They bi-regenerates and this time Ncuti does get the Doctor clothes, well half of them… why didn’t 15 regenerate with their own clothes? No instead we have the new Doctor walking around with no pants on… and why is it that 15 has to go pantless and not David? are we protecting David again? Perfectly fine to have a bunch of pics of 15 in his tighty whities and no pants but again David could not be seen in 13s full gender neutral outfit.

Then to top all this off theres no mention in the loves lost of Yaz… even though the Doctor chose to drop her off in a park 3 days ago after telling her if they could Date anyone it would be Yaz… is that not love lost? Was saying good bye to Yaz not an emotional trigger? Now people are saying thats because only the dead were brought up… Rose is not dead unlike Yaz Rose is not only alive in another Dimension but also got herself a Doctor… Yaz currently is mourning the Doctor while they cant even seem to remember she existed despite dropping her off 3 days a go… so they weren’t all dead… however Rose was over 1000 years ago and Yaz 3 days ago… what hurts more the lost of someone you loved but who is still alive from 50 years ago or the one you lost last week? What makes logical sense is the love you lost most recently hurts the most… and people dont need to die for you to hurt losing them from your life if you love them.

Now we have 2 Doctors and people are already saying they can’t wait for David Tennant episodes, so if you think the 10th Doctor overshadowed the other Doctors when he was no longer the Doctor how overshadowed do you think the first main Doctor of colour is going to be when lots of peoples favourite white Doctor ever is also a legitimate Doctor in universe existing at the exact same time with a TARDIS? Ncuti doesn’t event get to be the only Doctor during his tenure he has to share it with David.

The lastly no mentions of Yaz at all… seems shes completely forgotten and at the very end the Doctor says they are finally with their family the happiest he’s ever been… what a diss of every TARDIS team ever that the Doctor has found family with… your last crew you literally called your ‘Fam’, the Ponds you actually married into… Susan was your flesh and blood… but no this family you haven’t seen in 1000 years, of which only one of who was part of your TARDIS team are the ones you finally found family with and make you the happiest you’ve ever be? Literally at the exact same time the Doctor is sitting at that table saying all of that, Yaz is mourning the Doctor and not wanting to have left the TARDIS, but she doesn’t get a mention because for some reason if it’s a wlw relationship it means nothing and can be ignored completely.

Honestly by the end the Doctor just seems like a complete prick, and not in a 13 I’m dealing with internal trauma and I accidentally snapped way but just in a I’m a shit person way. Talk about compromised morals, people wouldn’t shut up about it with 13 but the Doctor just left a young woman to mourn them while being the “happiest they have ever been” grabbing themselves a new family and pretending Yaz doesn’t exist. Talk about shit morals. People say Chibs didn’t know anything from 12s era, which wasn’t true it directly affected the way 13 kept the fam at arms length but after watching this clearly RTD didn’t even know what happened in the episode 14 regenerated from 13 in and the previous episode Legend of the Sea Devils, because surely if you did, you wouldn’t not mention Yaz at all and give a reason why the Doctor wouldn’t go see her while she’s mourning them and just grabbing a new family and claiming to be the happiest you’ve ever been in the 2000 years of life you remember. Because that would make the character look like a prick, not a hero, which is exactly what happened. If RTD is the amazing writer people claim, he could have come up with a Yaz mention and a reason why the Doctor wasn’t going to see her.

I know not everyone was happy with the wlw representation with Thasmin but you know what’s way worse? Not even mentioning it or even acknowledging Yaz’s existence.

And to top it off I am so very very over the double standard of the fandom… this episode, had plot holes, had important things that weren’t explained… like why that face and why did the clothes regenerate… things that weren’t explained that weren’t so important like where did the sonic screw driver come from, why can it do all the things it now does… it had racism from both the Toymaker and Donna… what on earth was that line about ‘do you come in every colour’, was paced poorly, it clearly should have been longer and decided to mess with lore by creating bi-rengeration out of thin air and not explaining how it would effect things going forward or why it even happen, like a true WTF… if Chibs had done even one of these things, or wrote this episode the exact same way the fandom would be coming for him instead they are praising the genius of RTD not caring about any of those things, all the sins they claimed Chibs did and some of them on a bigger scale in this episode but the treatment of RTD is the polar opposite.

It’s unbelievably hypocritical, and makes the fandom look even worse for being so hard on the first female Doctor because none of this was acceptable for her but its not only fine but great with a male Doctor.

So I think it’s time for me to let this show go, and know it’s time to bow out. Because unlike the people who have been horrible about 13 for the last 6 years I understand sometimes you have to step away from something you love when its no longer for you and leave it for other people to love.

Im out with 13.

#13th doctor #thirteenth doctor #thirteen #13 #yasmin khan #thasmin #yaz #yaz khan #13 era #dw

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watchyourbuck · 5 months

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hey for the prompts list could you do the one below? I don't have any specific idea though

“Is this… turning you on?” (no.12)

Buck was angry. He was angry and he was done hiding it. Eddie had been behaving like an asshole ever since he decided to quit the 118.

His motives were legitimate, he’d give him that, but not the way he was acting. Hanging up on his calls? Changing the lock so Buck couldn’t get in?

Oh, no, mister, they weren’t gonna play that game.

So he showed up at his door. Unannounced and carrying around ten pounds of unsaid insults. If Eddie wanted him out of his life, he’d give him a reason to.

“What are you doing here, Buck?”

The question ignited something in him. After everything they had been through, he didn’t deserve this kind of ending. He didn’t deserve this residual hammering because Eddie didn’t know where else to place it.

“I came here to give you one more chance to not be a fucking coward.”

“Save it.”

If he didn’t know him so well, he’d say he was uninterested. But no, Eddie was annoyed, and it made Buck all the more angrier.

Before he could think it through, his hand was stopping the door from slamming in his face. He took a few steps, allowing himself in despite Eddie’s look of utter disbelief.

“Don’t shut the door on me. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” he said, his tone harsh and unwavering, although he did step back. “It’s not my problem if you can’t move on.”

“Move on?” he muttered, towering over the man. “Is that what you think this is?”

Eddie looked at a loss of words. He simply stared, fury and unresolved trauma glimmering in his eyes.

“You’re cutting me out of your life,” continued Buck, “you think that’s a polite thing to do after I’ve cared for you the way I have?”

“I don’t give a shit about politeness, Buck,” Eddie barked, turning red, his finger now pointed at him. “You tried to stop me from leaving after I told you why I was doing it.”

It was the same scene from years ago, at the grocery store. How did this become his fault yet again?

Buck scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “So?”

“So, you looked over Chris’ best interest.”

The frown on his face was swamped with evident confusion, and it must’ve thrown Eddie off his game. He straightened up, looking for courage to explain.

“You claim to care so much about him, yet-”

Buck put his arms down, his face contorted in either threat or pain. “Don’t. Don’t tell me what I think you’re gonna tell-”

“Yet you don’t seem to live up to your words.”

It happened in a flash. It really, really did. Buck’s hand flew up, with the sole intent of slapping Eddie across the face, but the man had training. He grabbed him by the wrist and twisted it, making his knees bent.

Firefighting had taught him a thing or two, so Buck rapidly regained his poise, kicking Eddie’s ankle and making him shorter. He didn’t wanna hurt him, but he didn’t know how to stop. “Don’t fight me,” he hissed, the words trapped between his teeth.

“You started it, asshole.”

That was all Buck heard before he was being thrown to the ground. He grabbed Eddie’s shirt in a hurry, pulling him down with him. He fell on his elbows, wincing in pain, and Buck took the chance to turn him over and straddle him from behind.

He took his hands and placed them over his lower back, pinning him in place. “You’re fighting the wrong person.”

Eddie struggled beneath him, wiggling his shoulders and legs, but Buck was bigger, and stronger. “Let me go,” he ordered.

“No,” he said, taking both his hands with one of his, and putting the other on Eddie’s head, pushing it down flat against the floor. “Not until we solve this.”

Then Eddie moaned.

Buck blinked, his grip loosening. What?

“Let. Me. Go,” he repeated, this time his voice strained. It sounded like he had swallowed against his body’s will. “Now.”

Buck frowned, pushing Eddie’s head down again. It prompted another sound, but it wasn’t quite so. “Is this… turning you on?”

The mere suggestion made Eddie throw his hips back. He closed his eyes, caught red-handed, like a thief. “Buck…,” he said, way softer than before. It was a plea. That he could recognize.

Buck licked over his lips, not completely sure how to continue. Never in a thousand years would he have guessed he could have this effect on him.

Unsure, he ground his hips down. Eddie’s breath hitched, and he slammed his own head against the floor. Buck’s cock twitched. “Is this what you wanted?”

The question went unanswered, and he repeated the motion. Easily enough, his bulge bumped against Eddie’s ass. A low groan. “Buck, I-.”

“All along,” he said, now grinding harder, “all you wanted was to be fucked?”

“Buck.”

Buck leaned down, pressing on Eddie’s hands now with his body. He settled against his back, nuzzling his nose on his hair.

“All you had to do was ask.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Please take this as my Seven Sentence Sunday!

tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @wikiangela @fortheloveofbuddie @callmenewbie @lover-of-mine @honestlyeddie @hippolotamus & @evanbegins thank you all so much!💗 I’ll get to your works tonight

tagging in return @wildlife4life @housewifebuck @malewifediaz @buckleyobsessed @mattsire @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @911-on-abc @giddyupbuck @cowboydiazes @steadfastsaturnsrings @eddiebabygirldiaz @butraura @theotherbuckley & @jeeyuns ✨

#Seven Sentence Sunday #buddie #911 fox #911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 tv show #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie #buck and eddie #911 abc #buddie 911 #buddie ficlet #buddie fanfiction #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #buddie wip

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ystrike1 · 10 months

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Kashoku no Shiro - By Takayama Shinobu (9/10)

Toxic romance after toxic romance. Nothing but twisted love. Our protagonist has quite literally never had a healthy relationship. She leads a cursed life, as the bride of the progenitor of all demonkind. Before her marriage she was trapped by an unstable young master too, but she's no villain. She tries to find her own form of happiness, within the confines of her eternally twisted existence.

Superstition and bad luck banded together to ruin her childhood. The smart elder brother was born blind. The father who lives with constant illness. The cute little sister covered in ugly birthmarks. Birthmarks are a bad omen, and their ugliness prevents the only girl from getting married. The family is stuck in a cycle of poverty and shame.

Shiraume, the ugly and unlucky daughter, gets "saved" by the handsome and smart son of a landlord. He is the first yandere in her life. Juro saves her and her blind brother from completely crushing poverty. He keeps her as his servant, but her quality of life is still poor. Juro is the ideal heir, but he is not the legitimate son. He is constantly abused by the real heir. He projects his toxic savior complex onto Shiraume, until he starts to see her curse as his only possible savior. He wants her curse to destroy the household that will not acknowledge him.

The heir turns into a demon, because he's even more toxic than Juro.

Jin appears and he proposes in the most dramatic way possible. He tears out one of Juro's eyes. He kills the newly born demon, and he says Shiraume is the one and only bride for him. She is the best bait. Demons implant flowers in humans they want to feed on. Shiraume's pure flowers can drive any demon mad. Jin promises not to eat her. He will treat her well as a bride instead, as long as she helps him lure out the bloodthirsty monsters.

Her relationship with Jin is much better. Shiraume doesn't want to be a lazy bride. She sees herself as a servant, really. Jin doesn't force her to do anything. He just protects her, and he tells her (gently) that she shouldn't do things that make him jealous. Even though they aren't (technically) romantically involved they accidentally flirt all the time. Jin is a demon though. Not a hot guy with pointed ears. I completely understand why Shiraume is keeping her distance, especially after what happened with her first savior/crush.

This is a convenient rich reporter guy that Shiraume could choose instead of Jin. He's quirky and wholesome and he loves mysteries. When Shiraume lures out a demon with her flowers he is smitten and interested. Once again his feelings aren't entirely romantic. He wants to save Shiraume and take care of her...just like Jin...just like Juro. He's a regular, happy guy though so he's less forceful about it.

She rejects Kiso. She chooses Jin. She's learned her lesson. Jin is patient with her, and his possessiveness isn't restrictive. He's not like Juro. He doesn't want to lock her away and babble about curses. Jin wants to rid the world of demons, and he's good to her. I hope the series ends with them actually getting formally married. Shiraume doesn't value herself enough, so she sees the flower contract as a job, not a marriage.

Her past with Juro was painful. She doesn't hate him, but I think he may be a villain later. Kiso is still following her around too, trying to save her. Men with savior complexes cling to Shiraume like flies. It's a joy to watch her reject them, and continue her adventures. She saves lots of people. She faces plenty of danger, and it's all worth it in the end.

She's no simple housewife.

She is a strong and forthright demon bride.

There is one problem. I don't think Shiraume and Jin get enough page time. Too much of the story is dedicated to Kiso and Juro. It's cool. It's neat that there are so many obstacles in front of Shiraume, but Kiso is presented as the protagonist in the beginning...and he's not a very good one. He's annoying. I would rather see this entire tale from her perspective.

This scene sums up everything I'm annoyed about. Shiraume KNOWS WHAT SHE IS DOING AND SHE IS WILLING TO DO IT...and yet Kiso, a virtual stranger, continues to stalk her and fret over her like she's a dumb child who is being manipulated. Jin is no angel, but he is never going to sacrifice Shiraume. He loves her to the best of his ability. He is a demon, but it seems like he's really trying his best. Kiso's ultra heroic attitude is just boring in comparison.

More of this.

Less of that.

Please.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #demon #monster guy #monster boy #Kashoku no Shiro

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just-late-roman-republic-things · 7 months

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And now, a book review I've been saving. I want to savor this one:

Julius Caesar and the Roman People, by Robert Morstein-Marx, 2021.

It's hard to overstate how much I love this book. If you only read one book about Julius Caesar, get this one. It's not just a biography of Caesar, but a reassessment of the role of the "People" in Roman politics, of how democratic vs. oligarchic the republic truly was, of reliability and bias in ancient sources, and how we construct history through the lens of our own values and fears. Morstein-Marx sets out not merely to describe Caesar's life, but explore where our ideas about him came from, what biases are in our sources, and how those biases erased the agency and diversity of the Roman People themselves.

When I first read this book, I found it persuasive and well-researched - Morstein-Marx is a professor of classics, after all - but its conclusions were so different from the pop culture view of Caesar I had to check if this was another Michael Parenti situation, where an author exaggerates and cherry-picks evidence to support his own political agenda. But, from all the other references to this book I found, Morstein-Marx does seem to be a respected scholar who knows what he's talking about, and other historians like Erich Gruen, Fred Drogula and John T. Ramsey seem to agree with a lot of his points.

So, what are his main points?

That Caesar was not a radical popularis or Marian, nor was he consciously attempting to subvert the republic or install himself as an autocrat; his career up till 49 BCE was broadly conventional, his policies moderate, and his rift with Cato et al is better explained by personal rivalries, not ideology.

That Caesar was in many ways more traditional and respectful of the law than Cato, Bibulus and their allies, and there was a legitimate argument for siding with him in 49 BCE.

That much of the argument for seeing Caesar as subversive or radical depends on equating the government with the Senate, and downplaying the role of the People.

That neither Caesar nor Pompey deliberately started the civil war, but that it happened due to a breakdown in communications between the triumvirs, and fearmongering from a pro-war faction in the Senate.

That the majority of the Senate and People probably sided with him during the civil war.

That it's not actually clear whether Caesar "wanted to be king." Many of his actions as dictator are better explained as ad hoc responses to immediate political crises, while others may have been taken out of context, exaggerated or misattributed to him.

Now, you might be thinking this sounds awfully pro-Caesar. And Caesar does come across more sympathetically than in most portrayals. But Morstein-Marx also reminds us that Caesar killed or enslaved about two million people, ended free Roman elections, and other awful things. He tries to explain Caesar's actions, but not to excuse them.

Morstein-Marx's argument is not that Caesar was a hero, or a villain, but an ordinary man and product of his time. He was, to be honest, just not that important until his runaway success in Gaul. He had no long-term master plan, but was reacting to immediate issues most of the time, like all politicians do. His policies were mostly conventional, not revolutionary.

Julius Caesar and the Roman People is an attempt to take off the filters of hindsight, myth, and propaganda, and try to understand Julius Caesar's actions in the context of his time. And it will teach you a lot about how history is "constructed" along the way.

#i really need to reread this one and see if i still agree with all his conclusions #but he definitely Did The Research #robert morstein-marx #julius caesar and the roman people #jlrrt reads #book rec #book review #julius caesar #hot takes with jlrrt

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mixelation · 16 days

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i went into the itasaku tag and there's a lot of art of them with minato. (if you just went WTF WHY? it's because in the big favorite character poll that happened semi recently, they're the top 3 favorite characters.) anyway obviously i started to go "hmmm could that ship WORK though"

here is what i have so far

itachi and sakura accidentally time travel directly into the middle of the third shinobi war. this forces an unlikely team-up thing for survival.

i think itachi is so committed to his villain bit he would rather fuck himself over royally than team up with sakura. sakura is SLIGHTLY more likely to play nice but still needs dire circumstances as motivation. so maybe: they end up immediately in enemy territory with their konoha headband (sakura) and uchiha eyes (itachi) and become immediate targets. suddenly sakura is like "hey i need you to kill everyone" and instead of doing that itachi coughs up blood. she can point him at enemies though and he'll genjutsu them and that works great. like this

so sakura is like "okay i need your help as a more experienced ninja for my own survival" bc yeah sakura is a badass, but she's never had to go on the run before or fight more than a handful of ninja at once. meanwhile itachi is breathing better than he has in years after one (1) session with sakura and suddenly a temporary team up seems like a great idea. like yes he wants sasuke to kill him but in order for that to happen he needs to live long enough to un-time travel himself.

however. neither of them have any idea what's happening. they get into stupid nerd fights over details of historical events. they cite publications at each other. frequently it turns out both of them are wrong. they also argue over whether or not they should seek help from konoha

sakura: you don't have to TELL the uchiha you murder them all in the future???? just use your fancy eyes to legitimize being an uchiha so they believe us!

itachi: (silent internal emoting)

meanwhile jiraiya has picked up on the most INSANE rumors of a tsunade impersonator smashing forests and mountains and shit. she may or may not have an even worse orochimaru impersonator with her. jiraiya sends minato to investigate.

there's a lot of fanboy debate over if minato could beat itachi in a fight. and for the purposes of this fic, i'm going to say: yes, yes he can. and it's incredibly upsetting for both itachi AND sakura

minato, to sakura, while sitting on itachi: okay so if you ARE an impersonator, your tsunade costume is really bad

sakura: (TERRIFIED SILENT SCREAMING?)

minato: but your jutsu impersonation is pretty spot on.....?

minato: (looks down between his knees at itachi) did you do that with your..... sharingan....... mr. uchiha bastard?

itachi: (has never been more confused in his life. he's never lost a fight this bad. he assumed losing a fight this bad would mean he'd die. he's not confused about being called a bastard though. that just happens.)

then idk. maybe they tell minato they're time travelers and he takes them back to jiraiya. the mood is very "minato is strong and hot and friendly. this is both sakura and itachi's type they didn't know they had. but also. help."

jiraiya: hmmm well, this one's obviously an uchiha, but YOU need to prove you're really tsunade-hime's apprentice. tell me...... what are her measurements

sakura: (pulverizes a boulder with her bare fist) does that answer your question or should i demonstrate on something else ( :

jiraiya: wow it's a mini-tsunade no further questions!!!!

i think i want minato to be in the 18-19 range so it's right around the time of itachi's birth. they decide itachi and sakura shouldn't go to konoha to reduce time travel shenanigans, such as accidentally preventing their own births. it seems like itachi would especially be at risk for butterfly effecting himself

sakura: (thoughtful expression)

itachi: no.

sakura: i don't say anything!

minato: ???? aren't you allies?

sakura: inside joke :) don't worry about it :)

so minato ends up their konoha proxy. he goes and researches un-time traveling them and then shows up and acts.... really charming? like when minato tells you everything will be okay, you believe him. and he's SMART and HANDSOME and once SETTLES AN ARGUMENT OVER WHERE THE RICE COUNTRY CAPITAL, WHICH MOVES ON AVERAGE EVERY THREE MONTHS DURING THE WAR, CURRENTLY IS. he's not even condescending that they're both wrong. itachi keeps thinking about him wrestling him down into submission and he doesn't know why. sakura is rethinking her personal definition of "dreamy"

sakura after minato leaves: this is SO upsetting. he's not even my type. i like dark and brooding.

itachi: what

sakura: DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT

and theeeen...... maybe they both get so sexually frustrated over minato they have sex with each other, idk don't worry about it

#itasaku #itachi/sakura #itachi/sakura/minato kind of i guess

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kiarabanetmi · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel: Episode 4 Discussion

I’m here to discuss my opinion in the controversey/arguments/backlash regarding episode 4, specifically the lack of trigger warnings and the Loser Baby song. If this triggers you or you do not want spoilers please keep scrolling and have a good day.

So brief overview before the episode: this episode dealt with SERIOUSLY dark topics that made my stomach turn, through Angel Dust and his servitude to Val. He’s an abused, trapped victim in a horrendously horrifying situation, one that many people in the real world are stuck in or have experienced. And there are very real S/A moments in the episode, specifically during the BDSM filming scene and the throughout the rest of the Poison sequence. (Please note, as a person who has lightly participated in BDSM and is constantly trying to learn it, KNOW THIS IS NOT TRUE BDSM! BDSM involved safety in losing one self, with a TRUSTED PARTNER/S and a safety system in place so all parties can be comfortable, secure and SAFE and not judged for stoping). And the fact that there was no trigger warning other than a 18+ rating is actually very troubling. Amazon, get your ass in heat and give a trigger warning on this episode! This is a legitimate concern.

This scene is haunting. And it did its job well. We see behind Angel’s facade, how he had learned to survive the abuse and r*pe he suffers from Valentino and who he’s forced to have sex with for him. And we also see he’s still a good person under it. He knows his situation is fucked and tried to keep Charlie away for her own safety and tried to protect her from Val as well.

Then he goes home and starts to self destruct. Husk was right. I’ve self destructed for different mental health reasons and even though my actions and way of self destructing is different from Angel’s, the mindset is the same. He’s been through hell that day, and the facade he put up is being criticized and put down by Husker. His safely net is being taken criticized and invalidated (even if it’s not healthy but just the best thing he can do in this unwinnable situation).

The the bar scene and the confrontation happens, as well as Loser Baby. The main critiques I see are these:

One: Husker is trying to compare his situation to Angel’s, which is “inappropriate and callous”. I mean, angel is S/A’rd for hours on end by strange men and Val daily/weekly and Husker is just indebted to Alastor right? There’s no comparison. Well that’s wrong for two reasons in my eyes. Firstly, we haven’t seen what Husker goes through with Alastor. What does Alastor have Husker do? Could he force Husk to do things, awful things, like Val does to Angel, just differently? We don’t know. But he doesn’t have control of his own life due to his own choice and situation, just like Angel. Second, I don’t think not trying to compare his situation to Angel’s, he’s trying to relate to him. Notice how Husk only tells Angel about his past AFTER Angel actually breaks down and tells him about how he tries to escape and hope to break enough that Val will get tired and let him go. That was the TRUTH, so Husk responded in kind. He’s not trying to compare his experience. Angel was finally honest; so tired and in so much pain he couldn’t keep up the facade and showed the truth. Just like Husk wanted. And in return for that honesty, the honest Husk kept telling and telling Angel to be, Husker opened up himself and shared him pain and past. (Also the fact that Husk was an Overlord is so fascinating and I hope it’s given more background information at some point! What he an Overload of gambling? Did he own his own Casino or business? What was his “department” or “specialty?”)

Second: Husker is telling Angel to “suck it up and accept his situation as hopeless,” and just punching Angel while he’s down. That’s not the situation at all, at least in my point of view. Remember, Angel is used to people complimenting him on his looks and videos by sick and greedy fucks or just being beaten and told he’s worthless by Val through physical, sexual, and verbal abuse. So what makes Husker calling Angel a loser any different? The fact that Husk is saying he’s a loser as well. He’s no longer seeing himself as better than Angel, or at least better than the facade Angel puts up. He’s also including himself in the saying. He’s saying ��you’re a loser, and so am I.” He’s not saying “I’m better than you” or “suck it up, it’s hopeless so suck it up and accept your fate.” He’s bonding with Angel in the fact that they are both in shitty, fucked up situations (ones both of them chose: you have to WILLINGLY offer/bet your own soul) and instead of being fake with each other, they can open up to each other and understand each other. Val calls Angel a loser because he sees himself as better, and sees Angel as his property, and due to the soul contract he is. No one else calls Angel a loser cause he’s one of the most famous and valuable pornstars and assets in hell. Husker calling Angel a loser is to make him see that they’re alike and Husker is being brutally honest for the right reason. He’s right they are losers. Both of them are indebted to psychos who literally hold their lives in their hands. They have no autonomy and no way out and were there due to their own choices. (This does NOT mean they deserve what they get! And this does NOT mean that what Val does to Angel ok! It will NEVER BE OK!)

Three: everything is resolved after the song and we’re supposed to believe it’s all better? The song solved nothing right? It’s just fluffy bullshit shipping fodder to distract and devalue the hell Angel went through not even ten minutes ago. Well yes and no. It didn’t solve Angel’s situation at all, not even close. There’s still no idea as to how to free Angel from Val or make his situation better. And Angel will still have to go back to Valentino and be abused by him and those he has to work with. It doesn’t solve Angel’s plight. But that’s not the point. This song is supposed to be a turning point, even if it’s a small one. Until this point, Angel had only acted in his armor facade around husk, and Husk hasn’t bought it or even liked it. He said as much multiple times. At this moment, during this song, Angel and Husk finally begin to see eye to eye, and that they can be someone real to each other (the extent of that relationship will be explored down the line I’m sure), but they’re not immediately best friends or anything. It’s a start. And Angel realizes that while also having Charlie in his corner despite her severely bad attempt at helping on the porn set, he also sees that Husk is also someone who is like him and he can relate to. When you finally find someone who has been through a similar he’ll you’ve been through in a horrible situation, it does feel good. It makes you less alone. And when you are less alone you can start building a better foundation to become stronger.

These are just my POV on the episode. If you don’t agree with anything I said then that’s fine. I was just sharing my own opinion. And that’s what it is, an opinion. Not everyone is entitled to feel the same way I do. If this episode makes you hate the show now and you don’t feel comfortable watching anymore then that’s fine. This show has a very specific audience. My father and mother and some of my friends would never watch this show for various reasons, and that’s fine.

Hope you’ll share how you felt about the episode.

I may also make another post later about Poison and how some of the lines actually can relate to all forms of abuse, even domestic abuse and not just S/A.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel S/A scene #trigger warning #tw s/a #s/a mention #huskerdust #angel dust #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel poison #Hazbin hotel loser baby #hazbin hotel valentino

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jayden-killer · 9 months

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DREAMS ARE MY REALITY. (pt.2)

part 1

What would happen if your favourite fictional character appeared in your bed...?

A/N: hellooo! Part 2 is finally here! 🙌 exams finished!! So now, full focus on my tumblr blog, heheh. This time chapter is longer. As always, just the reminder that I'm not a native English speaker, so you might find some errors. If you do, point them out to me! Enjoy the reading.~

Warnings: mention of the traumatic life of Miguel (both comics and movie), kinda derealisation if you hint it?, angst haha :)

Taglist (write me down in the comments if you want to be added!): @strxngegirl @d1lf-loverrr @laysmt @musicalhistorical @souichi-sbitch

☆

«You!»

I pressed the pillow against him, ready for any movement from the muscular man in front of me. His unkempt hair and a remnant of drool at the corner of his mouth confirmed my previous suspicions: he had fallen asleep in my bed. But how could he be divine even in that way? My eyes fell on his clothing: the holographic Spider-man suit was still on the young man. And he noticed my gaze fell there, then brought his attention back to me.

«Why are you pointing a pillow at me? It's not even a weapon».

«Ha, ha» faked a laughter, «That's is...amusing. How did you end up in my house, Miguel O'Hara? Did you fly with your webs through the window? Do you come from the roof of the building?»

And how do you know that my name is Miguel?" The man slowly approached me, losing his self-doubt demeanor that he had until recently, and I threatened him again with the pillow, lifting it up more as a reminder. «Stop there» My finger pointed to a precise point in the room, «First: what are you doing here. Second: how can you be real?»

«Are you answering my question with another question? Seriously?» Miguel's hands found place on his hips, and his eyebrow rose. I felt I was being watched too much by his eyes, which menacingly scanned me from head to toe.

«I'm in charge here, whether you like it or not, I make the rules here. Now, answer»

A snort left Miguel's lips. He rolled over more than once, shaking his head as if he was trying to find the right words. Well, a clear and comprehensive explanation didn't seem bad.

«Alright. I don't know how it happened, apparently my Gizmo started showing signs of instability as I traveled through the multiverse. The destination was marked for Earth-42. At the last minute, this maldito reloje decided to take me up to Earth-199999» Silence fell between us. I pushed the pillow aside, sitting on the edge of my bed to better focus on Miguel's bizarre story. The man seemed to mutter something in Spanish, but it was hard to decipher what he had said. He continued to look at me without looking away. «I was catapulted into this universe. The portal threw me onto the hood of a truck and the driver, seeing me, almost threw the truck into the wall. Luckily I managed to fly out of there with my webs».

«May I know then why did you come to my house?»

«I'm not done yet.»His eyes narrowed. I gulped fearfully. The man took a deep breath and continued to tell his story. «As I was saying, I flew away immediately. I wandered the streets for a while, and I saw how different your universe is from mine. The means of transport, the buildings, the people. I was tired, my strength was out of me. Your building was the closest. And your window was open. Besides, I would never hurt you. I'm a Spider-Man after all.»

«Yes, but you still attacked a fifteen-year-old boy because he didn't listen to you.»

«What?»

«What?» I laughed embarrassed. «Okay, I get it big boy. So you had a good sleep in my house, good, but now you should reall-Hey! What are you doing?»

«How can I be a giant poster hanging on your bedroom wall?» His was more than a legitimate question. I would have felt uncomfortable (and also quite lost) if I suddenly saw a poster with my face on it. I wouldn't have liked it at all. Even though Miguel was handling it well. I noticed how his head didn't move an inch, but he instead showed a surprised look at finding himself in poster form.

«Well, it's a long story...» I began.

«I have all the time in the world».

At that moment I looked at Miguel, then at the poster again and heaved a long sigh.

«What I'm trying to say is...you shouldn't be real». I put much more emphasis on the last word. Oh, God. Things were taking a turn for the worse. How could he believe what I was about to tell him? He had always felt real, but to me, he has always been part of the fictional world. It was just a drawing, yet he was here. How was all this possible? He was way beyond the multiverse.

«Miguel, I know it may seem strange to you, but you're part of a movie, you're a comic book character. You're...».

I couldn't.

I didn't want to make him feel like someone out of this world. I already understood what he had been through before. The loss of his mother, his brother Gabriel, the abuse from his father, and even the loss of his daughter, Gabriella. To tell him that it was just pure fiction, an invention of some brilliant mind would have been... not right. But Miguel wasn't stupid and he immediately grasped what I wanted to tell him. His gloved hand curiously and delicately traced his figure on the piece of paper. He shook his head, almost as if I were telling an unfunny joke. I couldn't blame him. I would have reacted way worse than the man. It was at that moment that I noticed the man in question ran a hand through his brown hair and swallowed hard, his back to me the entire time. In the meantime, worried, I was playing with the edges of my nightgown, with the fear that he might tear me to pieces.

«I feel real». His voice boomed off the walls. And I looked up to notice strange movements. «I am true. Even if all this creates a lot of...confusion for me».

«Miguel, you deserved to know...» I broke into the conversation, trying to find valid explanations. «I had to...»

«No». He held up a hand to stop me. A moment of silence followed. «You did the right thing. Being Spider-man also leads to these consequences... doesn't it?». It didn't seem that the sentence was addressed to me, but more to him.

«Maybe you need to take a shower, yes?». I tried to change the subject, my tone going from concerned to persuasive. «I have some clothes left here by my brother in case of an emergency. Maybe they'll fit a little short on the shoulders, but they'll have to go».

Without saying anything, Miguel nodded, then asked me where the bathroom was, so he could freshen up.

«Take your time, so don't rush-»

Slam!

Shit. What did I do?

#miguel ohara #miguel o hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #spiderman across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman across the verse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara x you #marvel imagine #mcu #sfw #fan fiction #fanfic

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