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toxapex-lore · 8 months

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I’ve been wondering something about Rayne’s world. Is it like another dimension, or a different universe entirely? I remember reading that she traveled between worlds. How does she do that?

Also a semi-related question. Do Legendaries in that world function the same as in other worlds? Like do they fulfill the same roles, or do they differ in any way?

Lastly, are Legendaries in your universe(s) immortal? I know that Rayne killed a bunch of them, but would they have died eventually anyway, or are they functionally immortal and can only die by a deliberate act? Is there a special technique you have to use? (I’m not planning on killing any of them I swear)

Sorry if that’s too many questions, I started thinking of more and more as I wrote this XD

What is Rayne’s World?

As a pre-warning I’m going to apologise for my blatant misuse of the word ‘Universe’. I know what it means, and the space and physics loving side of me hates that I’m misusing it, but I cannot think of a better term to explain it, so sorry in advance.

Okay, so to start with I’m going to explain what I consider Universes and Worlds! A Universe is a collection of Worlds (and some inbetween space, such as the Distortion World, Ultra Space, etc) and each Universe only has one Arceus and Creation Trio.

A World, however, is more comparable to the ACTUAL definition of universe - like the one we live in! The Pokémon, Pokémon Mystery Dungeon, and Poképark games would all be three separate Worlds for example! Furthermore, Pokémon Diamond and Pokémon Pearl would always take place in seperate Worlds, due to conflicting events.

Basically, if something would count as an alternate universe or alternate timeline, it’s a new World! If you’ve seen my Toyhouse, Canon Compliant and Hydra’s World (or as we’re calling it here, Rayne’s World) are both different Worlds in the same Universe, whereas Gods and Servants is another Universe entirely!

How does Rayne travel between Worlds?

Well, to answer that, I’m going to have to talk about another character entirely, as Rayne’s story does not begin with herself.

It begins with a Hisuian Decidueye, partner to the main character of Canon Compliant’s events of Pokémon Legends Arceus. This Decidueye is called Tansy, and after the events of PLA, she was frustrated that Arceus did not send her Trainer back to the present, and decided the reasonable course of action would to be to fight Arceus to show them that they were in the wrong.

This did not work, and Tansy was killed by Arceus after a hard battle. Impressed by her strength, however, they decided they could use her to help subdue rogue gods in others Worlds. Tansy was reborn as an Alolan Decidueye, and given a blessing so that she could not truly die - she would instead travel to another World when she was either killed, or subdued the rogue god in that specific World.

However, Tansy eventually stopped enacting Arceus’ will, and yet the god was not ready to lose out on her strength just yet. Tansy’s corpse had remained in Arceus’ realm, and so they decided to make an artificial soul to inhabit it and use its power. A soul that had Tansy’s skills and her blessing, but none of her personality, only a desire to make sure the gods did not step out of line and cause major problems. This being, now inhabiting inside of Tansy’s repaired body, was sent out into a random World to wake up. Initially, they did their job very well, but eventually became jaded by the amount of rogue gods they saw, and decided the obvious solution was to kill all of the gods before they turned rogue.

As I’m sure you will have guessed by now, this being was Rayne, although she is fully unaware of her origins. As far as she knows, she woke up in a field with amnesia, and has always been able to travel between Worlds either through death, or killing the ‘correct’ god.

However, after she became determined to kill every god in the World that we know as Hydra’s World, Arceus limited her blessing, and she was no longer able to travel between Worlds. Instead, she now returns to that same World, after a period of a few days to a few months.

Legendaries in Rayne’s World

Short answer to that; the Legendaries & Mythicals in Rayne’s World are actually recruited from other Worlds, and although they typically have the same powers as the others of their species, in their new World they are expected to be doing the jobs of multiple gods.

Long answer: there were eight gods who travelled to Rayne’s World (a Meloetta, Shaymin, Landorus, Tapu Fini, Hoopa, Celebi, Jirachi and a Yveltal), as well as Lilith the Darkrai, the sole known survivor, due to allying with Rayne. Furthermore, there have been three gods born (a Marshadow named Darci, a Jirachi named Goose, and a Hoopa named Currant) and a single demigod born (Sotis, Rayne’s child), making the total number of divine beings thirteen.

The Jirachi, who is called Shallot, is currently sleeping, but their job was to take the light from Luci’s corpse (a Necrozma who assisted Rayne during the mass deicide, and later betrayed her) and redistribute it. However, some of that light was already used up, leading the world to have shorter days and winters of darkness.

Shamin, Landorus, Celebi and later Goose are in charge of making sure enough plants are growing in the world for food, as winters are extremely cold and lack sunlight, easily killing the majority of plants. Additionally, Landorus is in charge of making sure storms do not become too destructive.

Tapu Fini is in charge of making sure the seas do not become too violent, as well as currently holding the objects housing the souls of Treasures of Ruin to prevent them from reincarnating - their seals did not last forever, and they eventually broke free, causing a lot of death and destruction to a world that is already very sensitive to that. The reason why she was chosen to be the holder of them is that none of them can get access to their element underwater, so they are unable to reform their bodies!

The Yveltal, Mara, and her son Sotis, are effectively performing the role of the full Aura Trio by ensuring both life and death stay in balance, rather than just death, as they normally would as Yveltals. It is their job to monitor how many have died, prevent unnatural revivals or gaining of immortality, and in the worst case scenario deliberately revive Pokémon to avoid their World from completely dying out - humanity is already extinct, as well as a few Pokémon species, and the population is very low in general.

The Hoopa, named Allium, and his daughter Currant, are in charge of obtaining any objects someone may need from another World! Furthermore, if you want to leave this World, you will need to talk to Allium and convince them to use their rings.

As an adult, Darci uses his powers to both deliver messages between the gods, as well as explore the world, both surveying the state it is in and bring anything he finds worrying up to the others, and trying to find items that may be useful! She also provides Z-Crystals, as her body naturally forms them!

Lilith, both due to not being fully trusted due to her past (although is she is trusted far more than Rayne, due to her genuinely being kind, and as far as the other gods are aware, never actually killing another god, only helping Rayne and Lilith plan) and causing nightmares as a Darkrai, does not officially have a job. However, she is often the one the other gods elect to talk to Rayne, as they are close friends.

Meloetta basically works as the overseer of both the gods, making sure no one is having any interpersonal issues (which is very common, unfortunately) and that they are both doing their job and not abusing their powers against mortals (something Rayne has made clear that she will not tolerate). Basically she’s their manager!

Overall, they are doing a LOT more work than they typically should be doing - either by covering domains related to theirs, or a much larger territory than they would usually. It is apparent that the gods are stretched thin, as their World is far less habitable than others, but fortunately the remaining Pokémon have adapted to these harsh conditions!

Legendary/Mythical Immortality

Arceus and the Creation Trio are the only ones who are truly immortal in every sense of the word, as they are less living beings and more part of the Universe itself, and need to uphold its order.

However, Mythicals and Legendaries lifespan range from long-lived to immortal to being able to revive themselves! They are all able to be killed, but how difficult a task that is depends on who you are killing, especially if you need them to stay dead.

Generally, Mythicals tend to only be long-lived, and will eventually die by natural causes, whereas Legendaries are immortal and have to be killed by outside means.

You’re correct in that some of them do need a special method to be truly killed though! Victini, due to being the Victory Pokémon, is very hard to kill in direct battle, as that is a situation where there is a winner and a loser. However, indirect confrontation, such as poisoning or natural hazards, would circumvent that issue!

Furthermore, Xerneas and Yveltal have to be killed twice to avoid them simply reviving themselves, by destroying their tree and cocoon respectively.

Most of them, however, only require you to be strong.

Thank you for asking all of these questions by the way! It’s nice to know what may need elaborated on explanation wise, and all of your questions I have genuinely thought about before!

#general thoughts as I type this:#yes there is something Extremely Wrong with Tansy’s Arceus. god simply does not care about individuals - only the big picture.#(they’re also not used to being directly disobeyed)#yes the gods in Rayne’s World know it’s Bad. they’re trying their best though - it’s hard to convince other gods to help #Especially Since the individual guilty of killing the last set of gods is still living there herself - even if she’s retired #and later reformed #I don’t know what role Marshadow is meant to fill other than ‘copycat fighter’ so Darci’s role is more based on his personality!#he likes exploring and fighting… capable of both travelling the world and defending himself if needed!#the immortality status of gods Varies. I need to work out the specifics for all of them. but I’ve had thoughts on a couple!#it’s rare to hear of a god being killed though - most of the time it’s their own recklessness. They can get overconfident in being stronger #than mortals. But rarely it is due to someone deliberately killing them… very worrying…#oh god who do I tag for this #oc lore #hydra’s world #tansy (oc)#hydra/rayne (oc)#mara (oc)#sotis (oc)#shallot (oc)#darci (oc)#lilith (oc)#i think that’s the majority who got major lore mentioned?#OH ALSO: meta wise Rayne originated as an AU of Tansy! hence why they’re still connected - even when she did become her own OC…#I’m so very glad I got to talk about those two… love them both so much...

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

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delicious

pairing: beefy!bucky x reader

summary: you obsessed with buckys thicc thighs

a/n: we've all seen the pictures and I know I'm not the first or the only one who's gonna write this but I have to bc look at him

18+

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

|main| bucky masterlist|

anyways

bucky loves how affectionate you are and you're not shy about it either.

you're always touching him in one way or another, he likes the attention he relishes in it.

bucky loves that you show everyone that he's yours as much as he is showing people you're his.

but there's one thing that bucky knows makes you feral and he doesn't know why but he knows what.

it's his thighs you're worshiping like there's literally nothing better on the planet earth than his thighs - and there's not according to you.

you love to put your head on his thighs when you two are on the couch and are watching something, it is rarely that you choose somewhere else to lay your head on. apparently they are comfier than pillows.

another thing you love his thighs for is when you're feeling extremely horny and needy you would use his thighs for your own pleasure and never just one because the other one would feel excluded whatever that meant.

what bucky has a love hate relationship with is the way you tease him and it always starts with his thighs.

him driving you somewhere, your hand is in his thigh so close to his crotch but yet so far away.

out and about in public you squeeze it either for the possessiveness or because you seek comfort it's usually the first thing but oh well

dinner with friends is a torture the gentle touches drive him insane and you live for it.

the way you hold onto his thighs when you're riding him makes him absolutely feral.

but his favorite was when you're choking and sucking his cock and the more you do it you start scratching his thighs harder and harder, you're hugging them with every little atom of your body. even before you get to his cock you always and he means always spend a few minutes on marking up his thighs.

bucky didn't know he could love being marked like this so much but he does and it's no surprise his favorite season has become summer just so he could show off your art work.

he doesn't know if you love giving his thighs hickeys more or him receiving them..

bucky hates to admit but he loves when there's other spaces you could sit on, any chair couch bean bag literally anything, you choose his lap, it does wonders to his confidence.

one time when he was feeling a little insecure about his thighs bucky got a long and very pleasant reminder from you how his thighs are in fact the sexiest thighs on planet earth.

and you remind him of that every day.

"doll me and the boys are going out for drinks wanna come?" bucky asks and you check him out and stand up from the couch and walk over to him.

'in those jeans?" you eye him.

"yes?"

"you're not going anywhere in those, you're going to take them off right now also tell them you're not going that you have some unavoidable business to attend to."

and who was bucky to deny you pleasure of enjoying his thighs.

[the end]

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #beefy!bucky #bucky imagine #bucky masterlist #thirstingforbucky #he so big help #bucky barnes smut #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes x reader

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eff-plays · 5 months

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Idk if this is a hot take of any kind but I actually really like that Astarion's romance starts off in an unhealthy way and evolves. That's like ... the point? Ya know?

It's interesting. It adds layers and conflict. It allows for growth and evolution. And Larian have claimed multiple times that it was on purpose, that many video game romances have sex as the culmination while here, some characters will fuck you immediately but then what? What happens after? Sex isn't the reward, but part of the relationship. There is more beyond. But people think that there being stuff beyond sex means that that's the only value that exists, and that the sex adds nothing. But in Astarion's case, it's extremely important?

It's complicated. His relationship with sex is complicated. They did it on purpose. That's the point. So what if it's not "uwu soft trust me I don't want sex please let's just hold hands" from the start? He doesn't trust the PC from the start, so why the fuck would he agree to that? He doesn't know them at all. He needs to do things his way because he's not ready for anything else yet. And if you feel sad for him, that's fine, because it's meant to be sad? But to the point of it becoming anger at the people who wrote it? That's weird, man. Astarion isn't real, you're not hurting a real person, and he literally asks Tav for it? In my case, he asks them twice before they say yes. They're not forcing him into anything. The only time you can force him is after the Araj scene, and he immediately breaks up with you after. So he's clearly perfectly capable of ending things if they get too toxic.

I swom to Jon just romance someone else at that point. Idk if this is my romance writer brain talking but well-written, not contrived, and non-abusive conflict is actually rare and sometimes difficult to write, but IMO every good romance needs conflict. Because at the end of the day, it's also a story?

It's not perfect because it's not meant to be. It's meant to be a starting point to evolve from. Sometimes things can be unhealthy without being abusive or problematic TM.

Anyway. Yeah I like how fucked up it is. Because Astarion is fucked up. It makes it more real and more compelling. I made my Tav fucked up to match.

"Well my Tav wouldn't fall for it and would realize ...!" Roleplay harder. Clearly Tav/Durge aren't meant to pick up on his manipulations from the start, or overlook them, or fall for them. There's a bajillion different ways to justify it. If you can't see past your own meta knowledge, romance someone else.

But if you really want the relationship to start without sex then just write that fic? Why are you demanding that Larian caters to your specific tastes and sensibilities? They had a story to tell and they told it. You not liking it is neither a personal a slight against you nor their problem.

#bg3 #astarion

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months

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The Kissing Game

The two times you and Eddie almost kiss and the one time you do

Fluffy,minors dni, 18+, jealous Eddie, soft Eddie. Idiots in love and mutual pining.

❤️

It was one of those stormy days in Hawkins, rain battering off the windows, the wind whistling through the trees, the weather forecast said it wasn't to let up all night.

This is how you and Eddie were currently stuck inside his trailer. He point blank refused for you to drive home when the weather was so bad.

So here you are bundled up in Eddie's room as he plays his guitar. Testing out a new song for Corroded Coffin, he scribbles down lyrics and mouths along to them, makes sure they fit into the song.

Eddie had told you to get comfortable and to be honest, there was nothing you liked better than listening to him strum on the guitar. It was bliss.

"What's the new song about Ed's?" you ask him curiously and to your confusion, a deep pink coats his cheeks. He's rarely one to blush, like ever.

Was this about some girl? It's the only thing you can think of that would make him blush so badly. Jealousy gnaws inside you, no matter how hard you try and push it down.

You and Eddie had barely been hanging out less than a year, still it was surprising how close the two of you had gotten in such a short amount of time.

"Uh, it's special. It's for someone special" he mumbles and there's a burst of agony in your chest that some lucky girl was going to have Eddie, pouring his heart out to her.

"She's lucky," you murmur and his eyes widen, he scrambles to his feet and moves closer to you. Some strange tension fills the air between the two of you.

Instinctively, you move closer to him too and shiver in pleasure as his hand reaches up to caress your cheek. Fuck. Was he going to kiss you? You wait with baited breath but just as something was going to happen, the front door opens.

It's Wayne. You and Eddie jump apart as he enters Eddie's room, smiles at you both and talks about making a nice, warming casserole for dinner, as it's chilly as fuck outside.

All the while that almost kiss stays in your mind all night.

❤️

You and Eddie don't mention the almost kiss. In fact it's an unspoken agreement that said kiss didn't even happen. So if you were both being a little weird at least according to Robin and Steve, then so be it.

Eddie was acting stranger than usual though, anytime you were near Steve his eyes narrowed and turned impossibly darker. Considering the fact, that him and Steve had been getting on extremely well, bonded over their love of annoying and looking after lost sheeples, it was a surprise to you.

It was meant to be a relaxing movie night. Hosted by Steve for the kids and the rest of the gang, except you were finding it extremely hard to relax at the moment. Worried that Eddie was going to make a scene for whatever inexplicable reason.

What was wrong with him? He was perfectly fine yesterday and didn't have a problem with Steve a few days ago at Family Video.

Was it because Steve hugged you a little longer than usual today? Whispered in your ear about his latest date and made you giggle... Was it possible that Eddie was jealous...

No. No way, he doesn't like you that. You'd know if he did surely?

...

By the end of the movie night, you were extremely pissed off. Followed Eddie to his van in an attempt to get some answers from him.

"Eddie, do you want to tell me what the hell is your problem with Steve?" Eddie ignores the first question as you both head into the van, you stare at him expectantly and he avoids your questioning gaze.

"Do you like Steve or something?" He spits out after a few seconds and you gape.

"Of course I like Steve, he's a great guy" you point out and Eddie looks frustrated, runs his hand through his hair.

"No. I mean do you really like him?" Flustered you realise what he means and shake your head.

"Not like that. He's just a friend Eddie" something akin to relief passes over Eddie's face. A small smile graces his features and he looks happy, certainly happier than he did throughout the movie.

His fingers entwine through yours and you feel your heart begin to skip several beats, your hand fits in Eddie's perfectly and the way his thumb strokes over your skin is making you feel heady, you don't want it to stop.

It seems like you have the same effect on him as there is a slightly dazed look in his eyes. This time when he moves closer to you, there's no hesitation this time and your lips are mere inches apart.

However the moment is broken by Dustin, Max and Lucas. "Hey, Steve is taking everyone else home so can we get a ride from you Eddie?" Dustin asks hopefully and you and Eddie exchange frustrated glances.

"We were in the middle of something you little butthead" Eddie huffs, but starts up the van and begins the journey taking the kids home. All the while your mind is racing.

That was the second almost kiss in a week. There was no denying what was going on now, but would you ever get to kiss Eddie? Something always seemed to get in the way...

❤️

Eddie had had enough of obstacles getting in the way of you and him. Twice now, the two of you had been about to kiss and each time you were interrupted. First Wayne and then Dustin, yesterday the two of you attempted to hang out alone but were interrupted by Robin and Steve.

Honestly, Eddie was at his wits end. For weeks he has been trying to tell you how he felt about you, he was even writing a song for you and couldn't wait for you to hear it.

You almost did the other day, the day of the first almost kiss. But the song wasn't ready, he wanted it to be perfect. He wasn't exactly in his comfort zone writing a love song, he was used to the heavy metal vibes of Corroded Coffin.

For you though, he wanted to try and get this song right.

Today he was going to do it. He was going to kiss you and no interfering little buttheads, friends or otherwise was going to interrupt.

The moment Eddie sees you he almost chickens out, almost. Quickly he shakes away his nerves and walks over to you.

There's a similar determined glint in your eye and you take Eddie by complete surprise, when you kiss him first. He's speechless when you pull away which for him is a rarity.

"Wow, he murmurs and you smile happily, about fucking time huh princess?" He teases you and you shut up his gleeful words immediately with another kiss.

Now that he is kissing you, Eddie doesn't want to stop, he also plans to kiss you all the time, annoy the shit out of the sheeples and get his revenge on them for interrupting the two of you the last time.

Yes, revenge was sweet. Eddie doesn't think much about his plan after that, when you nibble on his bottom lip and all his thoughts temporally cease for the moment.

❤️❤️

💞

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #soft eddie munson #eddie munson

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 3 months

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There’s No Such Thing As Purity

(Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You and Rafe are childhood best friends and as far as he’s concerned you’re an innocent angel he needs to protect from the world. But he discovers a whole other side of you when you accidentally send him nudes that were meant for someone else. Wk: 4.9k

Warnings: Drinking/smoking weed, jealous!Rafe, posessive!Rafe, minor Jj x reader, brat taming, choking, spanking, spit kink, tiddy slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, fingering, orgasm denial, daddy kink, unprotected sex.18+MDNI!!!

A/N: this is only my second Rafe fic so pls be niiicee to me. But I love this man. I need him to own me and put me in my place. Thank you to my sweet angel @babygorewhore for listening to me rant about this, and for beta reading for me. Ilysm. Also this is based off the song “Purity” by Lilyisthatyou.

You’re not necessarily faded, but you’ve had a couple drinks and you smoked a blunt with a few of your friends when you first got here so you’re feeling a little buzzed. You check your phone and to your delight your sneaky link that you asked to meet you here had responded that he would be on his way soon. You smirk down at the screen, excusing yourself to the bathroom so you could respond to him how you really wanted to.

You close the bathroom door and pull your little crop top over your head, leaving you in just your low waisted mini skirt that you push down even further so your thong straps are on display. You stand in front of the large full length mirror on the bathroom wall, holding your phone camera up while you pose. You take a few shots, then a few more, until you're satisfied that at least a couple of them will be good enough to send. You spend a few minutes going through them before deciding on two.

One is straight on, your tits fully on display, your free hand pulling one of your thong straps up even further, and your tongue is sticking out. The second is from the side, showing the curve of your back and the top of your ass sticking out of your skirt, two fingers between your lips. You smirk, satisfied with your work. You select the two photos before typing out the text to accompany them.

“When are you getting here?😉”

In your somewhat hazy, horny state you click the most recent contact on your list and hit send. You didn’t think anything of it, since as far as you know he’s the last person that texted you. But what you failed to realize is during your little photoshoot your best friend had texted you, and you sent them to him instead. Seconds later your phone starts to ring, Rafe’s contact and a goofy photo of the two of you popping up on the screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” You answer cheerfully.

“What's up? What’s up with you? What’s up with those photos?” Rafe sounds pissed, which isn’t unlike him, but it’s very rarely directed at you.

“Photos? What’re you-?” It takes your slightly inebriated mind a second to catch up but when it does you gasp, pulling the phone away from your ear to pull up your texts. Your entire body warms and your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass when you realize you sent him the photos, and not the intended recipient. “Oh god… fuck. Rafe listen, can we not make this a thing? Those weren’t for you, just delete them so we can forget this ever happened.”

“Who were they for then, huh? Also where the hell are you? I thought you were staying home tonight.” This was not good. You and Rafe have been best friends since you were kids, and he’s always been extremely protective of you, some may say overprotective. So things like guys and hookups? You keep them to yourself when it comes to him.

“Uh - I don’t see why that really matters? Can you just fucking delete them? Also I was going to stay home but then the girls convinced me to come with them to this party. You’re busy tonight anyways? I don’t know why it’s a big deal.” You huff in annoyance.

“It fucking matters because what if something happened to you? Since when do you go to parties without me anyways? You could’ve at least told me you decided to go out. Also you’re sending guys nudes now? Since when? Who is this fucker?”

“Rafe!!! You need to calm down. Seriously, we don’t have to make this a thing, okay? Just fucking delete them and go back to doing whatever it is you were doing. Please.” Your voice comes out more whiny than you mean it to, but you know he’s a sucker for your pouting so you're hoping it will calm him down a bit.

“No, seriously, answer my fucking questions.” He sneers your name into the phone and it sends chills down your spine. He’s been irritated with you before, of course. But never talked to you like this and you have to admit that it’s doing something to you. You’ve always wanted him, but he’s always seen you as this precious angel he needs to protect, innocent. When truly? You’re anything but. You go to parties without him when he’s busy all the time, and as far as your innocence? That was long gone.

“Oh my god. I already told you, I’m at a fucking party, okay? I’m here with my friends. You’re acting like I’ve never gone to a party without you or like I’m a child that needs to be watched and you’re honestly being really dramatic.” Rafe is taken back by your tone. You’re normally so soft and cheerful with him. But right now? You were acting like a fucking brat.

“At a party, where? And you still didn’t answer my other question. Who. Were. The. Pictures. For?” You can tell he’s pacing the room and running his fingers through his hair with his nostrils flared. The image makes your thighs clench. You’ve always fantasized about Rafe putting you in your place, he treats you like a princess, lets you do whatever you want. Granted you’re usually very sweet to him, but tonight? You’re wondering how far you can push him before he finally snaps. “You know you share your location with me, right? I can just fucking look myself if you don’t wanna tell me.”

“Jesus Christ, Rafe! It’s at Matt’s house! Are you happy? I’m still on figure 8, literally a few blocks from my house!! And as far as who the pictures were for? Just a guy, okay? I don’t know why the specifics matter. It’s almost like you’re jealous or something.” You tried to hold it in, you really did, but you’ve been holding back from saying that for years. It was like he didn’t want any guys near you, but he never did anything about it himself and you were over it.

“What if I am?” He practically growls into the phone and that wasn’t the response you were expecting. You had never brought up his possessiveness until now, but other people had and he always said something along the lines of ‘I’m not fuckin’ jealous, it’s just no man is good enough for my best friend’ and it always made your heart deflate, just a bit.

“Are you?”

“Just fucking stay there, alright? I’m coming to get you.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, the line going dead. Your text notification goes off, the guy who you meant to send the photos to letting you know he arrived at the party. Suddenly you feel shockingly sober.

You take a deep breath to collect your thoughts. You have two options here. Option one, hide in the bathroom until Rafe gets here and then leave with him, totally avoiding any further drama for the night. Or, option two, you could go out there, and when Rafe gets here, you could see if he really is jealous… Fuck it. You pull your shirt over your head, look in the mirror to check your hair, and exit the bathroom.

You weave through the sweaty bodies in the living room and head out back to where your date said he would be waiting for you. Your eye’s scan the patio, searching for those blonde locks. Your eye’s meet smug blue ones, a cocky smirk on his lips. Yeah, Rafe was absolutely going to lose his shit when he found out those photos were meant for none other than Jj Maybank. Probably one of the last people on earth he would want you fucking around with. But you ran into him at a party a few weeks ago, hooked up with him in a random bedroom, and you’re not ashamed to say you’ve gone back for seconds. And thirds. And forths too. It’s not your fault it was the best dick you’ve ever had in your life.

“Hey princess, how’s a goin’?” He approaches you, his eyes unabashedly roaming your curves in your little party outfit. He brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running across it before leaning in close so his lips brush your ear. “You look good enough to eat.”

“Yeah? Maybe you’ll get to try a bite later.” You lean back so you can look up into his eyes, biting your lip. For a second you almost forget all about the Rafe dibocle, getting lost in Jj’s now familiar, fresh, but still somehow musky scent and those eyes that remind you of the ocean water that surrounds your home. But you couldn’t forget about Rafe for long. Your feelings for Jj are so incredibly surface level compared to the feelings you have for him. “You wanna get a drink? And dance?”

“Sure thing, pretty girl.” He winks at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

After you take a shot together you drag him out onto the makeshift dance floor Matt set up on his parents back patio. You start to sway your hips to the music that booms from the large speakers that were set up around the area and Jj hungrily eyes your curves. He pulls a joint from behind his ear, raising it between the two of you with his eyebrow cocked and you nod in response.

You continue to sway, turning your back towards Jj so you can rub your ass against him. He pops the joint in his mouth, turning his head to the side so he can use one hand to light it, his other hand coming down to grab onto your hip. His fingertips graze the skin above your skirt and it gives you goosebumps. After he takes a few puffs off the joint he holds it to your mouth, his skin grazing your soft lips. You turn your head over your shoulder to blow the smoke in his mouth and he takes the hint immediately connecting his lips with yours. But before you can even fully shotgun the hit to him your entire body is suddenly ripped away from his, a large hand pulling you by your forearm.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? HUH? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE FUCKIN’ DOING?” Rafe’s voice bellows over the music as he pulls you towards him, causing you to trip and fall into his chest.

“Rafe, I’m just having fun, you need to chill. Seriously.” You push against him but he uses the hold he still has on your arm to pull you closer. His free hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it roughly, forcing you to look up at him.

“I need to chill? Are you fuckin’ joking? Is this who those pictures were for? This dirty fuckin’ pouge? Are you fucking him?” His eyes hold a fire that’s never been directed towards you, and logically you should be pissed, you should slap him across the face for acting like this. But instead you feel your panties get even wetter under his angry gaze, the feeling of his hand on your jaw making your knees weak.

“Hey bro, you need to back the fuck off! She told you to chill, get off her!” Jj tries to grab onto your free hand but Rafe doesn’t allow it, he grips onto your hips, using his hold on you to push you to the other side of him, away from Jj.

“You’re the one that needs to fuck off bro.” Rafe gets in his face, his nostrils flared, his eyes filled with rage. “Keep your dirty fuckin hands off my girl, fuckin’ pouge trash.”

“Your girl, huh? She didn’t seem like she was your girl when she was beggin’ me to let her cum last weekend.” Jj smirks, his eyes boring right back into the taller man’s. Rafe growls, using all his force to push him so hard he falls to the ground.

“Yeah bitch, my fucking girl. Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll beat your ass so bad they won’t be able to identify you when you get to the fucking hospital.” He spits on the ground in front of the blonde’s feet before turning back to you with his jaw and fists clenched. “Bathroom. Now.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, speechless. My girl. My girl. My girl. Replaying like a mantra in your head. After a few seconds of you standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, Rafe lost his patience. He swiftly closed the few foot gap between you, his large ringed hand gripping the back of your neck. He bends down so his face is level with yours, blue eyes filled with fire staring down at you.

“I said. Bathroom. Now. Start fucking walking.” He practically growls when he says it and you have to hold in a whimper. The hand on your neck glides down to your shoulder, turning you away from him without giving you a chance to respond. You have half a mind to talk back to him. But he seems like he’s two seconds away from turning around and taking his anger out on Jj and you’ve definitely done enough damage in that department for the night, so you start walking.

“Take me to the bathroom you took those little pictures in.” You squeal when halfway down the hall Rafe grabs onto your hair from behind you, pulling your head back against his chest. He’s looking down at you hungrily, his tongue running across his bottom lip. “I wanna take some pictures of my own.”

As soon as the bathroom door is shut he’s on you, shoving you up against it by your throat, his lips smashing against yours in a bruising kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth using it to dominate your own. Just when you feel yourself start to get lost in it he pulls away, a pout forming in your lips.

“Seriously, what the hell has gotten into, Bunny? Where’s my sweet little innocent best friend? Cause this girl I’ve seen tonight, she’s certainly not her.” He looms over you, the look in his eyes is wild, he looks like he wants to devour you and god you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let him do just about anything to you right now.

“Maybe there’s a side of me you don’t know about, ever thought of that?” The smirk that spreads across your lips is seductive, the look in your eyes mischievous. “You do know I have a life outside of you, right?”

“No fucking shit, I know that. But this is not something I’d expect out of you. Going to parties dressed like that, smoking weed, grinding on pouges.” He snarls at the last part, the hand around your throat tightening slightly. He pushes your legs apart with his foot and shoves his knee between your thighs, pressing it up against your wet clothed core. You try to hold in the moan that escapes you but your body betrays you. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time, was he bullshitting me out there or did you fuck him?”

“Yeah I fucked him, more than once.” That Cheshire smirk reappears on your lips and he wants nothing more than to wipe it off. He releases your throat to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together.

“You lost your virginity to a fuckin’ pouge? You let him inside of you? When I’m the only one who's supposed to touch you? Bet he didn’t even make you cum.” He shakes your head from side to side, grinding his knee up into your cunt. You really don’t want to give into him just yet, but you’re losing your resolve quicker with every passing minute.

“HA! My virginity? I hate to break it to you Rafey, but that ship sailed back in highschool. And as far as him making me cum? Say what you want about the pouges but that’s the best dick I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah? Not for fuckin’ long.” He walks over to stand in front of the mirror you had your impromptu photoshoot in. He turns to the side, looking you dead in the eyes as snaps his fingers, his long pointer finger directed towards the ground.

“Are you serious?” You scoff, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not sucking you off.”

You absolutely were going to suck him off, but he didn’t need to know that, yet. You were having fun toying with him and getting him worked up.

“Really? Cause I think you want to. I think you did all of this on fuckin purpose to get me going. Come over here and get on your fucking knees for me, bunny. I know you want it.” He smirks, his hands reaching for the button on his shorts. He pulls his cock out and your eyes grow wide, your mouth dropping open. You can’t even hide the look of awe on your face at the sight of his thick cock. It’s almost subconscious the way your feet carry you forward towards him. You approach him, looking up at him through your lashes. His hands grip your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees in front of him. “Take that fucking shirt off.”

You rip your shirt over your head and as soon as it’s off he leans down to grab onto your tits, squeezing them roughly.

“Perfect fuckin’ tits, and they’re all mine huh?” He pulls back and abruptly his large hands smack down on both your tits causing you to let out a yelp. “Say it, say they’re mine.” Two more smacks come in succession.

“They’re yours Rafe, always been yours.” You look at him with big wide eyes and your lips set into a pout. You almost look like his innocent best friend again, but he knows better now.

“Open your fucking mouth, slut. Stick your tongue out.” He takes his cock in his hand, stroking it.

As soon as your tongue leaves your mouth Rafe is smacking the tip of his cock against it. Salty precum hits your tongue and you moan at the taste. His free hand gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, wrenching your head back so you’re looking at him.

“You done being a fuckin’ brat now? Gonna let me show you who you really belong to?”

“Uh-huh, yeah.” You nod to the best of your ability, all resolve you had left leaving your body. You’re already starting to feel fucked out and he hasn’t even really touched you yet.

“Did I say you could close your mouth? Open.” You stick your tongue out for him again and he leans down to spit on it. “Swallow… Good bunny.”

He pats your cheek and tilts your head back towards his cock. You immediately take his head into your awaiting mouth. You start to swirl your tongue around the tip but Rafe isn’t having it, he’s done with your teasing.

“Just fuckin’ sit still and relax your throat, let me use you like the whore you’ve been acting like all night.” He takes both sides of your head in his hands and thrusts deep into your throat, causing you to gag. “That's it baby, fucking choke on it.”

He starts to fuck into your mouth deep and hard, giving you no time to adjust. You look up at him and his head is thrown back, feral moans leave his lips and his chest is heaving. He pulls your head back, looking down at you. He feels like he’s gonna cum when he does. There’s a string of spit connected from your mouth to his cock, your mascara is running, more drool is dripping down your chin and onto your tits.

“Where’s your phone?” He growls.

“In my purse, probably on the floor by the door where I dropped it when you jumped me.” He rolls his eyes at your attitude, walking over to your purse to pull your phone out. He stands over you again, opening the camera.

“Keep sucking.”

You lean forward and take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down on his dick. You decide you’re going to show him what you’re really made of. One of your hands grabs the base of his cock, stroking what isn’t down your throat, the other comes up to his spit slick balls, rolling them in your palm.

“Fuck. You really are a little slut, sucking me off like it’s your fuckin’ job. You wanna act like a whore? I’ll treat you like one. You wanna send out slutty little pictures to trash from the cut? I’ll help you out with that.” He turns the camera toward the mirror adjacent to where you were standing and snaps a picture of the two of you. Then he flips it towards your face and takes another. “Alright. Get up. Bend your ass over the sink.”

You scramble to your feet and lean down so your upper half is against the counter, your ass and hips in the air. The marble countertop is cool against your bare tits and your skirt rides up over your ass, revealing your little lilac colored thong with a dark spot right in the middle. Rafe groans at the sight, walking up behind you while he pulls his shirt over his head. You tilt your chin up so you can lock eyes with him in the mirror, clenching around nothing at the sight of him standing over your shirtless.

“Look how wet that slutty little pussy is already, all this just from sucking my cock?” He grabs the bottom hem of your skirt forcefully pushing it up over your hips. His hands grip the meat of your ass, spreading your cheeks. One of his long fingers hooks under the thin lace that sits snugly between your ass, pulling it back as far as it can go before letting go. It snaps against your pussy deliciously, making you whimper. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on this ass. Never thought it’d be like this though, not the first time at least.”

“How’d you think it would be then?” You look over your shoulder at him and he looks like a lion that caught its prey. He doesn’t break eye contact with you when his hand comes down on your ass, once, twice, three times.

“For one, I didn’t think you’d be such a fucking brat. My sweet little bunny. Always acting so innocent. Thought I’d have to be all gentle with you and shit. If I knew you were such a little cock slut I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He spanks you again, but this time it comes from below, the smack hitting your wet lace covered cunt. His fingers hook into your panties, ripping them down your legs. He runs his fingers through your slit, circling around your clit but not never actually touching it. “Look at this fucking pussy, looks so fucking sweet.”

“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” You whine.

“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” He mocks, and you think he’s going to keep torturing you but two thick fingers are suddenly being shoved knuckle deep inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” His fingers start fucking you at a brutal pace, this thumb coming down to finally circle your slick covered clit. His free hand comes down on your ass again and it makes you clench around him.

“Whose pussy is this?” Rafe leans over you, his large frame caging your smaller one against the counter top, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Tell me who fucking owns you.”

“You, you own me, daddy. I’m all yours.” He straight up growls in response, his fingers fuck into you impossibly faster and his lips latch onto your neck, surely sucking a bruise into it. Marking his territory. Your walls start to pulse around him and he can tell you’re getting close.

“You gonna cum? Gonna be a good little girl and cum for your daddy?”

“Yeah I’m gonna - I’m gonna fucking cum.” You push your hips back, fucking yourself against his hand. You're about to tumble over the edge when it’s suddenly ripped away from you, Rafe pulling his fingers out of you.

“Rafe! What the fuck! I was about to cum!” You push yourself up on your hands so you can glare at him in the mirror. He smirks back at you, taking the fingers that were inside you into his mouth with a groan.

“That’s what you get for acting like a fucking brat. Besides, if you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my fuckin’ cock.” He pushes you back down by the back of your head, smushing your cheek against the counter. He lines his cock up with your entrance, fully inserting himself inside you in one thrust. “Oh shiiiit, you’re so fuckin’ tight bunny. Always knew you would be.”

“Oh my goddddd.” Your eyes roll back and drool drips down the corner of your mouth onto the marble from the way he has your cheeks pressed together with his hand. He’s huge and the stretch burns so good.

“Yeah, that’s a good little slut, take this fuckin’ dick baby.” His hand travels down your back, gripping your ass harshly before gripping onto your hips. He’s fucking you so hard the sound of your hips slapping together echoes through the large bathroom and his balls are hitting your clit with every thrust. “Your little pouge still the best dick you ever had?”

“N - no, you’re the best I’ve ever had daddy, you’re filling me up so good, feels so good.” Rafe reaches into his back pocket for your phone, using his other hand to pull your ass apart for the perfect view of his cock buried deep inside you.

“I think we should show him how good I make you feel, baby. Show him you really are my girl. From now on the only slutty pictures of you are either going to be taken for me or by me, got it?”

“Yes daddy, I got it. I’m yours, only yours.” He snaps a few photos before setting the phone down on the counter. He grabs onto the back of your neck, pulling your head up so you can see in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, look at what a little slut you are for my cock. Is that fucking drool?” He laughs condescendingly, a smug smirk spread across his lips.

You look at yourself in the mirror, your makeup is running down your cheeks, your hair is a disaster from how Rafe had been tugging on it, and there was in fact, drool dripping down your chin to your chest. Your eyes travel up to Rafe and you feel like you’re going to cum right then and there. His hair is hanging in his eyes slightly but you can see them enough that the look he gives you in the mirror makes your head spin. His toned chest is covered in a thin layer of sweat and the feral moans leaving him are your new favorite sound. His hand grabs onto the front of your throat, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. The new angel has him hitting deeper and you feel that coil in your belly starting to wind up again.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna cum, feels so good, please let me cum.” You reach behind you, threading your fingers into his hair while you push your hips back against his.

“Look who can be a good girl after all, asking me to cum without me even having to tell you? That’s such a good little bunny. Go on then, cum for daddy.” His fingers find your clit and it sends you over the edge, your walls tightening around him. “That’s it, fuckin’ cum on my cock.”

He fucks you through it before chasing his own high. Pushing you back down on the counter by your lower back, he grips onto your hips, and drills into you harder than ever.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had, this is my fucking pussy, you’re mine. I’m gonna fill you up so full of my cum you’re going to have to walk out of this party with it dripping down your legs.”

“Fuck yes daddy, fucking fill me up, please? Want your cum.” The sound of you begging for his release does him in. Just a few more rough thrusts and he’s pushing his hips flush against your own, pumping his cum deep inside of you. He pulls out and grabs onto your asscheeks, pulling them apart so some of the cum would seep out.

“Don’t fucking move.” He grabs your phone off the counter and takes a few shots of your puffy pussy dripping with his cum. “Good girl.”

He grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you up and flipping you towards him in one swift motion. He grips your face in his hands, kissing you rough and wet and possessively. He pulls away and tucks himself back into his shorts before looking at your phone again, he goes into your texts with Jj and selects the photos he just took, typing out a message and hitting send with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Told you she was my girl.”

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #Dolly writes

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aphroditelovesu · 4 months

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Yandere Monkey D. Luffy Headcanons (General)

''I can't be the King of Pirates without you by my side.'' — Monkey D. Luffy.

❝ 👒 — lady l: It's 4am and I decided to finish this because I was bored lol. Hope you like it! I'm sorry for any mistake and good reading! ❤️💛

❝tw: obsessive behavior, overprotection, mention of death and torture, unhealthy relationships.

❝👒pairing: yandere!monkey d. luffy x gender neutral!reader.

Monkey D. Luffy has a relaxed and even sloppy personality, in a way. He has a carefree air, who cares about few things in his life. He had a goal, a dream, in mind and he would do anything to achieve it. But that dream became irrelevant after he met you.

He insisted a lot on you joining his crew, literally chasing you, harassing you, until you agreed to become a pirate. Luffy jumped for joy when that happened, because it meant you responded to him, as your Captain.

Luffy doesn't like to give you orders and he will rarely do so, unless it is unavoidable, in which case he will try to be as subtle as possible, as if he wasn't ordering you to do something. He is the Straw Hat Captain, but he is not your captain, not in a personal way at least. Furthermore, he wants you to find One Piece together with him.

He is very optimistic and tends to be very kind, trying to see the good in people, but he is a hypocrite when it comes to you. Even if you were the cruelest person in the world, Luffy would defend you tooth and nail. He's not very fair when it comes to you and anything ''wrong'' you do will be ignored by him, maybe even applauded.

People tend to think he's dumb or at least stupid, but that's not true. He may not be good at things that require greater thinking, but Luffy is anything but stupid. He is quite intelligent in his own way and it shows in the way he acts towards you. His intelligence is characterized by his emotional ability, he is very good at reading you and knowing your needs.

Luffy values you more than the rest of his crew. He loves all his friends, but he loves you the most. He would never say it out loud, but he would sacrifice everyone, send them to their deaths, if you so wish. He wants to make you happy and if the death of those who are important to him is the path to that happiness, so be it.

He is not possessive or jealous because Luffy knows he is your favorite. He doesn't mind other people being around you, but he has his limit. If Luffy thinks, even a little, that he is being replaced in your life, he won't accept it. Not without a fight. He's no stranger to bloodshed or killing, so he'll have no problem doing so.

On the other hand, Luffy is extremely overprotective and clingy, to a frightening degree. He dragged you into this life, but he doesn't want you to be an active participant. The idea, the thought, of you getting hurt sends you into a frenzy of anger and worry. He will kill, cut and even torture the person who hurt you and will only be satisfied when he has finished with the person.

Luffy is quite controlling and curious, he wants to know everything about you and he will find out. He doesn't want any secrets to be kept from him and he may feel betrayed if you try to keep something from him. Did he not give you enough confidence? Don't you know he's the only one you can really trust? Luffy will have to do something about your inappropriate behavior.

He likes to spend as much time as he can by your side, take everything he can and stay close to you as much as possible. His favorite moments together are when you are eating or sitting on the bow of the Going Merry. Luffy is very greedy for food and for you, if there are two things he cares about most and values above all else, it's you and food, in that order.

It's not easy to irritate him, but he gets irritated very easily when you're involved. If someone says something bad about you, feel sorry for that person because they won't end well. Luffy would never go so far as to kill over an insult, but he will get upset and he can be a pain in the ass when he is upset about something.

Luffy often behaves like a child, he tends to go to extremes very easily. He goes from 80 to 180 very quickly, his infectious joy turns to fury very quickly when it comes to you. He loves to entertain you with his rubber body, letting you play or making funny faces. He loves to hear you laugh and will do anything to see you laugh.

He hates seeing you cry, hates seeing your beautiful face wet with tears, your lips pursed as you cry. If Hell exists, then for Luffy it's seeing you cry. He will become furious and demand to know the cause of your sadness and once he finds out, he will deal quickly, often bloodily. If it is one of the Mugiwara, however, he will just be more rigid and will not hurt them.

Luffy is selfless, he is willing to sacrifice himself for you, to save you. He is delusional to a fault, willing to kill anyone who crosses you, including his own friends. Whatever past hurt you may, if he has your approval, Luffy will get revenge for you. No one can hurt you, no one can make you cry. He may not be the most dangerous to you, but to others around him, Luffy will have no qualms.

#one piece #yandere one piece #dark one piece #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #yandere monkey d. luffy #yandere monkey d. luffy headcanons #yandere monkey d. luffy x reader #yandere luffy #yandere luffy x reader #yandere luffy headcanons #yandere headcanons #headcanons

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vikkirosko · 4 months

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When you watch hazbin, can you please do Adam x a half human half Angel reader like one Parent was an Angel and the other was a human.

(If you wish to not do this request, please message me so I'm aware)

Love your stuff

- L.B Creations

🎸 Adam x Reader headcanons Nephilim ✨️

Heaven has known about your existence for a long time. People like you were born extremely rarely and they needed to keep a close eye on you so that you didn't do anything that could harm them. And so at some point it was decided to send someone to look after you. This someone turned out to be Adam, who was not very happy with this decision, but he had no choice

At first, he watched you from the side, being at a distance from you. He knew that nephilim could be strong and dangerous, but it was as if you didn't know about your origins at all. You lived a very ordinary human life and at some point Adam even thought that maybe he was mistaken and all this time he was watching the wrong person, until one day you abruptly asked him who he was and what he needed from you. As it turned out, you noticed a long time ago that you were being watched, but today your patience ran out

Since the day he stopped hiding, your life has changed and you weren't sure which way. You were no longer living alone in your apartment, Adam lived there with you, and you had the feeling that you were living with a neighbor who did not invest in your joint housing. Adam ate food from your fridge and often studied the channels on TV, but he still continued to watch you. As it turned out, you were well aware of your origins and your powers for most of your life, but you learned not to use them, because you wanted a normal life and did not want to harm others

At first, you really felt annoyed that Adam was next to you, but over time this irritation disappeared. You've gotten used to it and some moments of your life have become easier. Adam was the only one who knew how to control your power, because before that you were forced to act by trial and error. Just like you, Adam is used to you. If he used to treat you with disdain, now he even cared about you, albeit in his own way. And now he could safely say that his affection for you had reached a new level

Adam understood that there was a good chance that he would continue to look out for you, which meant that he was not going to miss his chance so that you could become closer. It wasn't what was expected of him, but he was confident in what he was doing. He was willing to try to help you get to Heaven

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #Adam #Adam x Reader

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celtic-crossbow · 4 months

Text

These will be updated here and there. It’s likely that there’s some I won’t stick to when it comes to requests and even story ideas where they won’t fit.

He hates pickles. Anything that is green and smells that bad does not belong in the food section. But he loves pickled pigs feet.

He likes sex but can easily live without it.

He hasn’t been a virgin since his early teens (thanks to Merle and a handful of drug money)

It would take some serious, repeated encouragement and assurance (and a lot of time) before he’s comfortable having sex.

He is the type of guy that goes one step at a time, testing the waters. Making out, touching you, letting you touch him (slowly because his brain has been conditioned to flinch away). Everything would be through the clothes and then progress. Slow and steady wins the race.

He’s a switch. Sometimes, he wants all the say (so to speak) in the bedroom, watching you whimper and beg. Sometimes he just physically needs to give up control to balance the chaos.

Rarely, when he’s extremely needy, he wants you to tell him he’s a “good boy” and praise him for how incredible he makes you feel. He’d never ask for it but when you call him that on accident, his reaction was quite telling.

He can easily go from gentle to rough. He would never want to hurt you. Squeezing your throat, slapping your ass, teasing your breasts, or leaving love marks with his teeth absolutely do not count as hurting you.

Consent is a huge deal to him.

He’s always been quiet during anything sexual; On the rare occasions he talks, it’s reassurances and quiet, gentle praise. Otherwise, grunts and whimpers and low growls are what you get until he’s about to orgasm.

However, sometimes he’s just so wound up, so needy for you, that he can’t help but moan loudly or call your name.

He always tells you he’s close to or has already started cumming. No real rhyme or reason. Maybe just his way of letting you know that you took him there.

He has a genuine dislike of cats. He doesn’t hate them by any means but if he had to pick an animal that was secretly plotting world domination, it’d be cats.

He prefers boxer briefs.

The only name brand clothing he ever owned was underwear because his junk deserves only the best.

He’s superstitious, even if he pretends not to be.

He doesn’t like giving his significant other pet names beyond “sunshine,” “pipsqueak”, or “woman.” Things that you find endearing regardless. On rare occasions, he’ll use “doll” or “darlin’.”

He secretly adores when you call him “baby” or “sweetheart.” Pretty much any endearment that labels him as yours.

He rarely (but it does happen) says “I love you.” He’s more of an actions guy and if you say it first, he’ll usually only say “me too” or rub his knuckles over your jaw.

He can’t sleep if his feet are hot.

Spiders freak him out.

He hates showers, not because he just doesn’t like them. Being in a space with scars on display makes him feel vulnerable. The water touching the scars forces him to relive when he received them.

Contrary to popular belief, he does keep specific areas of his body acceptably clean, using the bathroom sink or river/lake/creek when he’s in the forest.

The dirt and grime that coat his skin is a grounding reminder of who he is, so he doesn’t completely lose himself in that dystopian world.

He has never hunted for sport, only for survival. He respects nature and what it provides.

He loves to read. His favorite book is The Outsiders.

He doesn't/wouldn't understand why his girl can't talk to him instead of a stranger. He would need some mental health education as the urging of Carol or Michonne before even remotely understanding. He wants to be supportive, first and foremost.

He fights tooth and nail to avoid getting "his head shrunk" but in the end, if it meant not losing his girl, he'd give in.

He is a horrible patient for physical ailments and even worse for mental ones.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl humor #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you

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weasleyreidstyles · 4 months

Text

Serendipity

chapter eight

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+ content, unprotected sex (use protection obvs), rough undertones but not really, bro's possessive as fuck

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Your old Professor had given you some much needed insight over the Christmas holidays. Harry had dragged you and Ron to sit in agonising silence as he and Remus had a back and forth battle of wills over Harry's wild theories. Remus was certain that Voldemort wouldn't recruit inexperienced, young adults who were barely eighteen, but you knew he was wrong about that, especially considering he was recruited into the Order as soon as he was no longer a Hogwarts student.

Theo had not replied to a single letter; you'd sent countless over the small three week break.

Remus had yelled at Harry for making such harsh accusations, then had apologised not ten minutes later. It was a full moon after all, and he was still grieving over Sirius' death. Before that had sullied the peaceful evening, you confided in your old Professor before lunch had been served, who was more than willing to offer his profound wisdom to you.

"Sir? Can I-" you hesitate in the doorway of the Burrow's living room, feet teetering on the edge of the threshold, the smell of Mrs Weasley's cooking permeating the calm air. Before you could continue, Professor Lupin let out a hoarse chuckle and invited you to settle in the cushioned sofa next to him.

"I'm not your Professor anymore," he spoke your name softly, "please call me Remus."

"Okay sorry. Can I ask you something, Remus?"

"Of course. I'll try to help in anyway I can." his encouraging smile led to you spilling what was on your mind – he'd always been easy to confide in.

"I've been doing some extra reading on further subjects," you start, chewing on a hangnail on your thumb. "about- about siphons."

Remus stilled. If you weren't so nervous you would have narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

"What have you learned so far?" his response was slow and curious; carefully constructed.

"Well other than the fact that they don't draw magic from their cores...nothing. And every book in the library says the same thing." you let out a frustrated sigh and he seems to take pity on you.

"Siphons are extremely rare, which you know, of course." one of his hands cups his jaw contemplatively, as if he's choosing his words with careful precision. "That's why there's so little information, because there are very few people alive who have been able to record their true nature.

What we do know, is that siphons can completely draw out sources of magic into themselves; drain it to nothing to gain that power. They're very volatile in thats sense because no one knows how much power they can truely handle."

He gave no indication that he saw the way your flinched at his words. You were grateful for it.

"But surely harbouring that much power would be dangerous? Nature demands a balance." you say in a small voice.

He mumbles your name with a knowing look of understanding before patting your shoulder, indicating an end to the conversation but you still catch his parting words: "Look in the restricted section, in books about forbidden magical and mythical creatures and you'll find what you're looking for. Consult Professor Dumbledore too, it would be more useful than soley relying on my account."

"Thankyou sir- Remus." he leaves you there, chuckling quietly at your correction as he let you know that he'd see you at dinner later in the day. You're left infinitely more confused than before you initiated the conversation, but as you left through the opposite door that led to the bedrooms upstairs to find Ginny, you failed to see the curious eyes of you best friend, hidden under his cloak of invisibility.

~∞~

Something had changed over the holidays. The air around the castle was different; a dark, sinister energy permeating the comforting warmth that the magical wards usually bathed the castle grounds in. You didn't know how you felt the shift moreso than your friends. Maybe it was the January weather, or the fact that you missed the comfort of home, but you knew in your gut that things were different now. Your stubbornness didn't want to admit that it could be a result of your new abilities that hadn't shown since Katie Bell's incident.

It became evident in your patrol evenings with Theodore, too. He was withdrawn, sullen and constantly aggravated; if he bothered to show up at all sometimes. You knew what it meant and you kept this piece of information to yourself, lest it gave your friends one more reason for you to avoid the Slytherins.

But you made a promise; one that you wouldn't break.

The change was even more evident in your sessions with Mattheo. He was pushing you to your limit, and getting exceedingly frustrated with you, for no reason. He was angry at the world and at you, apparently.

After a considerably hard yank at your innermost thoughts, you shoved him out with a glare, which he returned tenfold.

"Okay. Ow? Why are you being so aggressive?" you snap, massaging your throbbing temples. He scoffed at you and moved to stand, beginning to pace.

"What? You don't think someone trying to infiltrate your mind won't be? Don't be so naive, I can see all your thoughts. Shut. Me. Out." He spat your name out like it was filth to him, and you suppose it was at one point in time. Pushing youself to stand, you make your way to him so you were chest to chest.

"What is your problem?" you question, narrowing your eyes at him as he stared back with deadly, onyx eyes. He scoffed and turned away from you, fingers rubbing at his temples as if this whole conversation was giving him a headache.

"It is giving me a headache." he spat and your glare intensified. "You're not focused, your mind is unraveling at the seams. It's like you haven't made any progress at all."

You startled him with the cold laugh that escaped you. "That's rich." you spat, your pointer finger digging into his strong chest. "You're a hypocrite Mattheo. You have been unfocused for the last week. So answer me this: what is your issue?"

In seconds he had you pinned against a wall that you hadn't noticed he had been backing you into, his breathing heavy and cold as ice. His hand was wrapped loosely around the base of your throat, not tight enough to harm but enough to pose a threat.

"You know nothing about me, Princess." his voice was a low and deadly rasp that sent coils of dread right down to the tips of your toes, but you couldn't deny the blatent arousal that was beginning to fester. "You know nothing, yet you're still willing to be in a room with me. Willing to let me do things to you that your friends would abhor you for. Willing to keep secrets from the very people you should trust with your life."

You cursed the flush in your cheeks, and the lust in your eyes.

"You've been dancing with the devil for months, sweetheart." his voice was a nocuous whisper as his lips grazed your's with controlled precision. The sharp feeling of his teeth piercing your bottom lip invaded all your senses along with the metallic taste of blood. "You should've expected that I'd behave as such."

He kissed you then, an art of carefully thought out distraction as he sucked on the wound he created. But he underestimated you as you raked your fingers through his unruly, dark curls. Wandlessly, wordlessly, you willed the Legillimens spell to take hold and you were thrust into his mind, barraging through his fortified shields as if they were mere shadows ready to be swept away.

You were thrown into a seat at an overly large dinner table, that could seat at least thirty people, Bellatrix Lestrange seated adjacent to the seat opposite you, causing you to flinch at the phantom feeling of her cruciatus curse from the Department of Mysteries. The room was vast, with a towering ceiling filled with delicate Jacobean decor, it was dark and foreboding; you didn't want to be here.

You were sat to the right of Death himself.

Voldemort didn't acknowledge you and the words he spoke were a garbled blur of nothing as your attention was brought to the back of the room, by the double doors to the Entrance Hall. Draco Malfoy walked in, followed by Lorenzo and....and Theodore.

The next moment made you want to scream and cry as Mattheo was forced to stand before his friends, before Voldemort's loyal followers who were a mere spillage of darkness to your vision, and tortured by his own father. Somehow this was more painful than the memories you'd seen of his in those first few lessons; knowing it had been as recent as the week before. You gaped as Voldemort merely turned to Enzo and Theo; you fought tooth and nail to stop the inevitable as you watched them writhe and scream as the Dark Mark appeared on their left forearms.

You were shoved so violently from his mind that your head collided painfully with the wall behind you. You were staring at him, wide eyed and wincing as he glared down at you, murderously.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't- I'm sorry." you tried to catch your breath, only now realising that the hold he had on your throat had tightened upon reflex. Your hands flew to the singular wrist that helf your life in his hands, clawing as it flexed. "Mattheo-"

You watched in understandable horror as a smirk painted his beautiful face. Your wrists continued their assault with renewed vigour.

"I'm very impressed." he mumbled, his face drawing closer to your's, his voice a sensual whisper in your ear. "No one has ever been able to do what you just did."

He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you trembled as the hold he had on your throat did not let up.

"What are you going to do to me?" you whispered hoarsely, fear painting your tone. He snickered at your predicament and the tightness surrounding your throat lessened considerably, but he maintained a loose grip, a warning.

"I want to do unspeakable things to you, sweetheart." he said, his voice a reflection of the arousal that was pressing heavily against your abdomen. His smirk widened as you shuddered at the way he said your name. "I'd like to think that I'm an honourable man. And I want to do the honourable thing, but I've resisted you for far too long."

Weeks worth of avoidance came to head in that moment as he surged forward, finally pressing his lips to your's. You could taste cigarettes on his tongue and his cologne filled your lungs with every breathe you managed to gasp between heated kisses. The wound on your lip pulsed from the attention, the pain causing a whine to crawl up the back of your throat. The kiss deepened.

His hands roamed over your entire body; hips, waist, thighs. Like he didn't know where to settle them, while his body pressed you further into the wall with pure male strength – you wanted to climb him like a tree. Somehow you managed to pull away from his ministrations, heavy breath mingling with his.

"You're not angry that I just broke through your shields?" you ask with a furrowed brow. He only lets out a quiet laugh as he shakes his head, leaning down to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, then soothing the marred skin with presses of his lips and swipes of his tongue. You breathed out an airy moan at the sensation, tilting your head back to grant him more access.

"A little miffed." he mumbled agaist your skin. "But not angry. No one has ever been able to do that, except you apparently. Smart girl."

He didn't speak for another minute or so, content with marking your smooth skin instead.

"I'm proud. These lessons are paying off, it seems." and you hear it in the tone of his voice, the pride. You respond with a stifled laugh as he bites into the sensitive flesh of your collarbone and you swat at his shoulders.

"You're always content in making my life difficult." you tut, but make no move to stop him as he begins to unravel the knot in your tie. "Do you know how long it takes to cover these up? With and without magic!"

"Don't want you to cover them up." he mumbles, so quietly that you almost miss it. But you don't miss the possessive gleam that ignited in his onyx eyes. "You're mine."

You're mine. The words echoed through every corner of your mind.

"Am I?" you challenge and you pull him closer to you as you weave the fabric of his tie through your fingers. He growls as he rips your school shirt in two, ignoring your admonishing protests as he pulls it from your body. This continues until your stood in nothing but your under garments.

"Beautiful." he mumbles as he traces featherlight touches down your body with his calloused hands. "Absolutely breathtaking."

"Well I don't think it's very fair that I'm the only one whose indecent." you snark, though your attempts at hiding your anticipation were rubbish at best.

"So undress me, darling." he says after a split second of reluctance, his voice low and demanding, it makes your thighs clench. Looking at him through dark lashes, you begin to unknot his tie, slow and teasing. The buttons of his shirt are next, popped one by one by your nimble fingers; when you raise to your tiptoes to smoothly remove his shirt from his shoulders he tenses as you come face to face with his lean, quidditch built torso.

That's when you see it. Ink black and imposing against his tanned, muscular forearm. Covered in thick scars, old and new, was the Dark Mark. Your breath hitched in your throat as you trailed your fingers lightly across it. Mattheo shivered at the feeling.

"Scared?" he asks, voice low, you almost detect a hint of shame...or something else.

"Of you?" you ask, taking his left hand in both of your's, fingers running soft circles across his palm. "No."

"You should be." he says it like he believes it to be true. His fingers flex in your hold and then tighten, squeezing your's in earnest.

"I'm scared for you, Mattheo. For all of you. This," your pointer finger trails against the Mark, "isn't fair."

He smiles at you then, all soft and sad and heartbreaking. "This is the life I've been dealt, love. No use in trying to stop it."

You brought his forearm level with your face and begin to press gentle kisses to his marred skin. His breath hitches and you can't place the look he gives you.

"You're not a monster." you mumble between soft caresses. "You're kind and intelligent, and compassionate and honourable. You've been dealt an awful card, yet you haven't let it ruin you. Not entirely. That says everything and more, Matty."

"Say that again." he says, onyx eyes staring resolutely into your's.

"Say what?" you ask, brows furrowed as he practically rips his arm from your hold, only to pull you closer to him by your waist. You both seem to realise that you're both near naked – only your underwear and his trousers separating the two of you. Your cheeks heat.

"My name. Say it."

"Make me." you say with a barely contained smirk. He lets out a near growl as he cups the back of your neck in his giant palms and presses a demanding kiss to your kiss-swollen lips.

It's not pretty. It's all teeth-gnashing and lip biting and purely animalistic.

You'd both been resisting eachother past blind fumbles in the dark and post-session make outs but you'd never been this exposed to each other before. It was exhilarating.

"Fuck!" he gritted against you. "You're so fucking pretty."

You whimpered against him as he sucked at your tongue, and that seemed to push him past his controlled limit. One of his hands guides your thigh to rest against his hip and he battles with his trousers to get them low enough to release his painfully hard cock.

You're not one to beg often, but your desire for the boy in front of you was too great to ignore. With a mewl and a whisper of pleas he pushed the fabric of your panties aside and pushed into you. The tightness and the pain of the action made you both groan in unison.

"Gods, sweetheart. You feel so much better than I imagined." he says against your lips as he pushes in to the hilt. He presses away the tears that fall from your eyes.

"Please move." you say as you attach your lips to his neck in an effort to stifle your moans as he begins at a slow pace, graciously letting you adjust to his size. He's bigger than anyone you'd had before him, the tip of him grazing places you didn't think was possible to reach. You were a mess of whines and moans as he adjusted you in his hold; letting out a shriek when he begins to repeatedly ram against a spot inside you that brought you immediate pleasure.

"Gods! Right there Matty, fuck....please!"

He smiles a wicked, sinister smile at you as he drags one moan after another from your lips. He takes both your hands into one of his and pins them above your head, restricting you to the wall.

"That's it, sweetheart." Mattheo rasps, revelling in the way you clench around him. "Moan my name."

His movements are precise and controlled. His pleasure deriving from the way he was making you come undone at the seams. He brings his free hand to the apex of your thighs, brushing them against your throbbing clit, smirking as his motion draws you closer to your orgasm.

You're not certain how long has passed since he entered you, but you feel like you're having an out of body experience as he rips an orgasm from you so suddenly that you don't know where the pleasure starts and ends.

You're a whimpering, moaning mess as he uses the extra slick to speed up his movements, which become erratic and lose their rhythm as he gets closer to his own release. The only sound to be heard are your soft whines, his grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin as he finally reaches his own climax.

His forehead rests against your's, both gleaming with a light layer of sweat as you bask in the feeling of him. His dark brows furrow as you let out a soft laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asks, a light smile gracing his face as he memorises every inch of your skin.

"I think you just ruined me for anyone else." you say, breathless.

"Good." he growls, that possessive gleam in his eyes again as you feel him harden inside you. "As far as I'm concerned no one else can have you."

He's rolling his hips against your's before you can utter a snarky response.

~∞~

The next time you see Mattheo is in the Potions classroom the following day.

"How are you so good at everything you do, Meadow?" Ron grumbled as he read through the instructions of the healing potion Slughorn was making you all brew.

You had just finished an apparition lesson; by the end of the two hours, only you, Hermione, Mattheo's group of friends and a handful of others had managed to apparate from one side of the room to the hoop at the other. Harry and Ron were not part of that group.

"Well unlike you, Won-Won," Hermione sneered from across the table, "she takes pride in her academic accomplishments."

The redhead scoffed. "Mione come on-"

"Don't call me that." she snapped, going on a rant about Ron's incompetence. He only spluttered in response. You and Harry only exchanged uneasy looks as they continued arguing.

"I thought this would've ended by now." you say under your breathe as you drop in your next ingredient, huffing when it does the opposite of what it should. Harry mumbled his agreement as he completed his own potion. You looked between his and your's incredulously. "Why does your's look different to mine? Is it that book?"

You glared at him with pleading eyes and Harry huffed as he slid the Halfblood Prince's book so you could see. Your body ached as you read through the annotations. You winced as you rolled your neck to get rid of the tightness and Harry noticed your discomfort straight away.

"You okay, Meadow?" he asks, his hand gracing your shoulder blade. You both looked up at the sound of a knife clattering against a table top. Mattheo was glaring at the hand that Harry still kept on your shoulder, you huffed as you turned to your friend.

"Fine. Just sore from apparition lessons is all." you smiled reassuringly which seems to convince him as Harry removes his hand from you.

Faintly you hear Pansy question why Mattheo was acting so strangely and you try your hardest to ignore it. Until you couldn't any longer, because he was in your head.

Why the fuck was he touching you like that? His voice was a dark growl in your mind.

Wow possessive much? You reply with a mental scoff. He was asking if I was okay.

The agression in his tone softened and he sent a wave of concern your way. Are you? Okay, I mean? What's wrong?

You can't help the smile that paints your face, and you have to duck your head to hide it from your oblivious friends. I'm fine.

You can practically see as well as feel the look he gives you all the way across the room. You clearly aren't. Tell me what's wrong.

You look like you're about to incinerate the tabletop. I'm okay, Matty, really. Just sore. You curse him internally as he smirks wickedly, onyx eyes dancing with pride and hunger.

I'd gladly satisfy you again, darling. Just say the word.

You kick him from your mind, ignoring the flush that overtakes your heated face. Then you send flares of annoyance to him as you hear his snickering laughter that he barely conceals.

~∞~

when i was researching siphoner lore literally the only thing that came up was vampire diaries theories 😭😭😭

the smut took a different direction to what i intended tbh but i wanted to include some soft Matty 😅

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @topguncultleader @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23

#mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #harry potter #serendipity series

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parkerslatte · 5 months

Note

14 and 45 with azriel and it’s really fluffy! Thanks and congratulations 🎉🎉

A/N: tysm for your request! I hope you enjoy :)

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

Drunken Kisses

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

Summary: It is Azriel’s birthday and Y/N originally wouldn’t be able to spend the day with him. The Inner Circle take him to Rita’s and he gets extremely drunk and Y/N surprises him.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

3000 Follower Celebration

•••

Azriel rarely got drunk, at least to the point of losing control of his body. He didn’t mind getting tipsy from time to time but he could simply have a good time being surrounded by his family. However as Cassian placed another drink in front of him, one that would surely tip him over that edge of being drunk to the point of memory loss, Azriel missed the one person who should have been sitting by his side.

“Where is Y/N?” Azriel slurred as he sipped his drink. “It’s my birthday, she should be here.”

Amused looks were passed throughout the Inner Circle as Azriel pouted. Y/N had been away at the Summer Court for nearly two months now but Azriel felt like it had been a lot longer. From the moment Y/N went away, Azriel missed her. Ever since the two had gotten together nearly ten years ago, they hadn’t spent too much time apart.

“I miss her so much,” he whined. “She has never been gone this long before.”

“She’s only been gone two months Az,” Cassian said. “I thought you were meant to be the patient one.”

“I am,” Azriel protested. “But I miss her.” Azriel finished his drink. There was a silent communication within the group to not give the shadowsinger another drink.

Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “It’s your birthday, put a smile on your face!”

Azriel shook his head. “I’ll only put a smile on my face if Y/N sits next to me right now.”

Azriel folded his arms across his chest. His heart hurt from being away from Y/N. When Rhys had sent her to the Summer Court, he begged him to go with her. Rhys refused, Azriel had his own work that he needed to focus on. The day Y/N left, Azriel was the one to bring her to the Summer Court. As soon as they arrived, Azriel refused to let go of her. His arms remained around her waist as he buried his head into the crook of her neck.

“Please come back with me,” Azriel mumbled into her hair.

Y/N hugged him tighter. “I can’t, my love. I have to do my job. I wish I could.”

“I will miss you,” Azriel said, resting his forehead against hers.

“I will miss you too,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss against his lips.

Azriel was ripped out of his own memory as he felt someone sit next to him. He took no interest in who it was as he stared at the empty glass in front of him. Azriel never thought it was possible to miss someone this much. The constant pain in his chest from their separation was something he never wished to experience again.

“Az, there’s someone who is trying to get your attention,” Feyre said, looking between the shadowsinger and the new presence that had joined their table.

“I’m not interested,” Azriel grumbled. “If it’s not Y/N, then I don’t care.”

“Then maybe you should actually look for yourself, brother,” Cassian replied.

As Azriel finally raised his gaze from the empty glass he looked at each face of his family who were simply staring at him in amusement. His gaze drifted around the circle until they landed on the one person he had been talking about all night.

A goofy smile appeared on Azriel’s face as he looked at Y/N. “You’re here!”

Y/N smiled at her mate, as he reached out to her. She simply moved until she was close enough for him to pull her onto his lap.

“I missed you so much, my love,” Y/N mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Happy birthday.”

Azriel’s head nuzzled into her neck as he breathed in her scent. “I love you. Don’t ever leave again.” His words were slurred and quiet.

With one hand, Y/N ran her fingers through his hair and with her other hand she gently stroked his cheek.

“When did you get back, Y/N?” Feyre asked, sipping her drink.

“Only an hour ago,” Y/N responded. “I asked Rhys where all of you were.”

Azriel hugged Y/N closer to him and began to press small kisses against her neck. Y/N simply smiled.

“Can we go home?” Azriel asked, his lips grazing her ear. “I wanna kiss you so badly. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

Once she pulled away, Azriel pouted. “I wanted to kiss your lips.”

From beside Azriel and Y/N, Cassian laughed. “It’d be best to take him home, Y/N. He’s been like this all night.”

Azriel hand caresses Y/N’s thigh as he begins to pepper kisses across her jaw, completely ignoring Cassian. Y/N intertwined their fingers and squeezed his hand gently.

“Let’s go home,” Azriel begged.

Y/N turned back to him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel practically melted. His mind was solely focussed on Y/N. As her lips pulled away from his, Azriel whined.

“Come on, let’s go,” Y/N said, slipping from his lap.

Azriel jumped up from his seat, swaying on his feet as the room spun around him.

“Good luck, Y/N,” Cassian commented.

Y/N shoved him playfully as she walked past him. “I will see you all tomorrow.”

“Not likely,” Cassian said. “You’ve been gone two months, I’m sure Azriel will keep you within your bed all day tomorrow.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you all whenever then.”

Azriel gripped onto her hand and tugged her to him. Y/N waved back at her family before being pulled out into the night air. There weren’t many people on the streets, many being home or in the many different bars and pubs in Velaris.

The couple hadn’t even made it far enough away for the music to be completely inaudible before Azriel pulled Y/N into his arms. Y/N let out a noise of surprise before wrapping her arms around him.

“I missed you so much, Y/N,” Azriel muttered. His wings encased the two of them, giving them more privacy. “It- it hurts to be away from you.”

Y/N pulled away from the hug and cupped his cheeks. His hazel eyes bore into hers. “It hurt me too, Az. I thought about you every single day.”

“I felt it,” Azriel said, placing a hand over his heart. “I felt all the love you would send my way.”

Y/N rested her forehead against his. “Well I needed to remind you how loved you are.”

A large smile spread across his face before he was surging forward and captured her lips with his own. In his drunken state, he stumbled as he threw himself off balance. Pulling away with a laugh, Y/N rested her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s get back home. We can do all the kissing you want.”

Azriel’s face brightened. “Really? What about anything else?” Y/N rolled her eyes at her insatiable mate. “We can focus on that tomorrow and when you are sober.”

Azriel huffed. “Fine.”

Y/N giggled and wrapped him in one final hug. Azriel had never felt such love before and as soon as he met Y/N, he never wanted to live in a world without it. Every single touch sent his senses into overdrive. He was normally one who could control his emotions well but he could never control them around Y/N. She could always tell exactly what he was feeling at any point. To Azriel, Y/N was his home. Wherever she was, it was where he wanted to be.

“Your hugs feel like home,” Azriel said. “You feel like home.”

Y/N only held onto him tighter, a feeling of warmth coursing down the bond and Azriel smiled. I deserve this, Azriel thought. I really deserve this.

“I know you said that I feel like home,” Y/N began, “but can we go to our actual home? It is getting quite cold out and we can go and cosy up by the fire and you will get all of the kisses you want.”

Azriel pulled away and smiled. The smile only Y/N saw. “Then let’s go home, I only wish to be with you all night.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “Happy birthday, Az.”

“You are the greatest gift I have ever received,” Azriel responded, intertwining their fingers together.

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses

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spaceagerabbit · 1 year

Note

Omg I love your Bowser x reader ones, but this got me thinking, what if Mario and Luigi see you hanging out with Bowser and Bowser Jr and thinking that you've been kidnapped by them as well, what would happen?

anon you are remarkable and i love you and i kiss your forehead MWAH

this is a one shot, but there’s also a small little headcanon/outline at the beginning!

super mario masterlist

bowser x gn!reader (no y/n)

(no description other than smaller than bowser (who isn’t) and has pierced ears)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

+ If Mario and Luigi were to see your bizarre little family anywhere, it would probably be during one of your family outings to the market

+ Bowser Jr. has far too much energy to be contained in one castle and Bowser could do with some fresh air and sunshine to prevent his broodiness

+ And you? Well, you just like to see them in a good mood! As much as you may love the castle, you know it isn’t healthy to stay cooped up every day, which lead to your decision in having daily walks and weekly trips to the markets with your two favourite koopas

+ Mario and Luigi were enjoying an extremely rare day off on the same day as one of your weekly market trips, and the pair just so happened to spot a certain Koopa king pick a certain someone up off of the sidewalk with his son following right behind him

+ Without a second thought, Mario leapt over a crowd of Toads and chased after the trio, Luigi tripping over himself slightly as he rushed to keep up

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You brought a hand up to shield your eyes from the bright sun as you walked, Bowser’s heavy footsteps and Junior’s lighter but more energetic steps filling your ears from either side.

Despite the brightness, the weather was pleasant as can be. It was the type of warm where you only needed a light sweater against the small breeze that wafted through the marketplace every now and then. This type of weather was a favourite of yours since it allowed you to hold your beloved husband’s large clawed hand without the discomfort of clammy hands.

Junior skipped ahead of you and Bowser, his excitable nature bringing a grin to your face as you watched him bounce from stall to stall to see what new products the merchants had to offer.

“Stay where we can see you please!” You called after him, just loud enough for the young koopa to hear you over the crowd. “Okay mama!” Junior called back, jogging backward for a moment to face you before facing the front once more.

Bowser squeezed your hand slightly, being extra mindful of the size difference between your hands so as not to hurt you. To anyone around you, it would look like the koopa king was giving a small gesture of affection to his beloved. Of course, you knew what that squeeze really meant. While it was affectionate, the squeeze really meant ‘pay attention to me now’.

“Okay, okay, you big baby, I’m right here.” You teased in a light tone, squeezing his hand right back (though you weren’t sure how much he felt it). Though he huffed at your teasing, Bowser puffed his chest ever so slightly, his eyes remaining on your grinning face as it glowed in the sunlight.

Squeezing your hand one more time, Bowser came to a slow stop and turning to face you directly. You stopped as well, confusion taking over your features as you craned your neck to look your husband in the eyes.

“You know… You look real pretty today.” Bowser grumbled, his normally booming voice sounding almost shy. You raised one of your eyebrows, smiling amusedly. “Oh yeah?” You asked, bringing one of your, comparatively, small hands to stroke Bowser’s forearm, watching him get slightly flustered.

“Y-yeah.” The Koopa king replied, feeling his large face flush as his irises seemed to turn into hearts at the very sight of you. You raised yourself onto your tiptoes, placing your hands on either side of Bowser’s large head, coaxing him to lean down toward you. Despite the fact that the two of you had been married for a while at this point, Bowser’s heart still felt like it was about to give out as you continued to lean closer and closer to his face… Your eyes flickering between his eyes and his mouth… Both of your eyes slowly fluttering shut-

“MAMA!!”

The two of you jumped apart as Junior bounded up to show you something he had found, oblivious to the PDA his parents were previously going to indulge in. Bowser grumbled in his throat and mumbled to himself in slight frustration, but ultimately leaned down alongside you to see what trinket his son had clutched in his hands.

“I saw these an’ I jus’ knew you had to have ‘em Mama!” Junior exclaimed, holding out a pair of earrings in the palm of his hand. The earrings were beautiful silver studs in the shape of daisies, a broad smile breaking across your face at your son’s memory of your favourite flower.

Leaning down on one knee, you brought Junior into a hug and swayed side to side with him. “Thank you so much my darling, this has got to be the best gift I’ve gotten today!” You praised, placing a small kiss on Junior’s forehead as he beamed up at you. Letting go of Junior, you took out the earrings you were wearing and replaced them with the new ones, carefully placing the old ones into your dress pocket.

As soon as you stood to continue walking, though, two giant arms encircled your waist and flipped you over a broad shoulder. Bowser carefully held onto the back of your thighs to keep you in place as you laughed at his dramatics. Junior, ever the energetic, continued conversing with both his father and you from where you sat perched over your husband’s shoulder as the two Koopas continued striding along the street.

The comfortable noise lasted for only a couple of moments before it was inevitably, though quite frustratingly, interrupted by none other than Mario, with Luigi following closely behind, yelling after his brother to stop.

Mario rushed in front of Bowser, forcing him to stop in his tracks. The Koopa’s light mood was quickly dampened, his scarlet eyebrows furrowing in frustration. Bowser broadened his posture, though still kept his gentle grip on your legs to keeps you in place. Junior peeked out from behind his dad, quickly hopping out beside him and mimicking his dad’s posture when he recognized the two Mario brothers.

“What do you want?” Bowser’s voice rumbled, his breath blowing the hairs on the brothers’ mustache slightly. “Yeah! What do YOU want?!” Junior exclaimed in an adorable show of support.

“What are you doing with them?!” Mario bravely shouted, gaining the attention of some of the people walking through the marketplace. Mario shifted into a fighting stance while Luigi cautiously stood back, choosing not to challenge the very large and quite frightening Koopa king that was currently staring the pair down.

“What’s it look like? We’re shopping,” Bowser growled, leaning his face down just enough to look Mario directly in the eye, “and YOU’RE interrupting our family time. Now scram.”

“Yeah, scram!” Junior mimicked again.

Not backing down, Mario kept eye contact as Luigi grew increasingly nervous. “Mario, you might-a want to leave-a them alone-“ Luigi tried, nervous gaze flicking between the Koopa king and his brother, only to be ignored.

“We’re not leaving until you let them go. Just because Peach is busy, doesn’t mean you can take someone else!” Mario exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing. Bowser’s gaze jumped from frustrated to furious, and he opened his mouth.

Before he could roar out any heavy insults, you leaned up and patted Bowser’s shoulder twice, a silent ask for him to put you down. Bowser turned his gaze away from the man in front of him only to meet your stoic face and knitted brows. For a moment, his expression turned panicked, before you placed a hand to his cheek in reassurance. Relaxing slightly, Bowser slowly placed you back on your feet.

You turned to face the brothers but didn’t step away from your husband, and instead curled against him, beckoning Junior to stand beside you. You placed one hand onto Junior’s shoulder, the other holding onto Bowser’s where it sat on your shoulder protectively.

“Mario, I would like you to meet Bowser and Bowser Jr., my family.” You introduced, your borderline cold expression not leaving your face at the thought of his immediate assumption of Bowser’s malice.

Despite your gaze not being directed at them, Luigi, Bowser, and Junior all shrunk into themselves slightly. Mario looked hesitant, keeping your gaze.

“Are you sure? They didn’t brainwash you or anything?” Mario bluntly asked, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth as your expression darkened, your eye twitching in rage. Bowser and Junior began to shake with anger.

“NOW YOU’VE REALLY CROSSED A-“ Bowser started, but was quickly stopped as you brought your hand away from Junior’s shoulder to rest against your husband’s chest. Giving him a silent look that said ‘I will handle this’ was enough for Bowser to step down, closing his mouth again. Junior continued to shake angrily, though a couple of tears now filled his eyes. That was the final straw for you.

“Junior, stand with your father please.” You said, not taking your eyes off of Mario. “But Mama-“ Junior started, though quickly changed his mind when he saw the look you were giving the Mario brother.

You stepped toward Mario, stopping about a foot away from him without breaking eye contact. Luigi thought it best to stand to the side.

“Who the hell are you to assume my judgement wasn’t intact enough for me to choose who I married?” You asked rhetorically, your tone dark. Mario shivered, his eyes falling to the ground.

“I will say this and I will say this once. Do not EVER presume to insult my husband and my son like that again, are we clear?” You kept your stare on Mario’s face. In his newly felt fear, Mario forgot to reply. “I said are we clear?” Your tone dropped and the man forced himself to nod.

“Ye-yes.” He answered tightly, not bringing his gaze from the ground in front of him. You exhaled shortly through your nose and nodded once, then stepped around Mario, now facing Luigi who tightened up in fear. You took a deep breath and looked at Luigi’s face with a brilliant smile.

“Luigi, how are you? We haven’t been able to chat lately!” You asked, bringing the younger Mario brother in for a hug. The sudden change in your demeanour made Luigi shiver, though he quickly returned your hug and began conversing with you. Bowser and Junior relaxed, letting out a huge breath of relief.

You continued conversing with Luigi as you made your way back to your family’s side.

“Here, come with us! We were about to get something to eat!” You waved one of your hands for Luigi to follow you, placing your other in the crook of Bowser’s elbow when he offered it.

“Ah, that’s okay, we-a wouldn’t want to intrude!” Luigi answered, not entirely eager to spend a meal with your husband and his brother sitting across from each other.

“Catch you later then. You’ll have to come by for tea again soon! The Shy-Guys miss you!” You replied with a smile, continuing on through the market with your husband and son.

Silence fell over the two brothers.

“So should we-“

“Luigi?”

“Yes?”

“Did you know?”

Luigi hesitated.

“Yes…”

EXTRA!!

After finally getting Junior settled into bed with several bedtime stories, Bowser trudged his way to your shared room where you lay reading a book. The Koopa flopped onto the bed, his head resting on your torso as you placed your book to the side.

“Hi.” You gently smiled.

“Hey.”

“Something on your mind big guy?” You asked, mindlessly stroking Bowser’s messy scarlet hair. Bowser could almost feel himself purring.

“You’re really attractive when you get protective is all.” The king replied, melting into your touch as his eyes once again seemed to turn into hearts. You flushed slightly before giggling shyly.

“Now that I think of it, we did get interrupted earlier…” Bowser mumbled, his pupils blowing slightly.

“Hmm… interrupted from doing what?” You teased, though your pupils were also dilated. Bowser grumbled into your chest. “I need to hear what you want.” You purred into his ear, making Bowser melt even more.

“Can we kiss?” He asked, feeling like a teenager. You grinned. “We can do more than that, big boy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: it issssss 1:56am as i’m writing this author’s note but i just HAD to do this request bc i love it so much! hope u enjoyed!!!

#bowser super mario #super mario bowser #bowser mario #bowser #bowser x reader #bowser fanfic #bowser x gn!reader #bowser x y/n #bowser x you #super mario #mario and luigi #luigi super mario #super mario luigi #super mario bros #mario bros #super mario brothers #bowser jr

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

Code Broken (Series) dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

summary: "You broke into my house," Joel says moving his gaze from your eyes back down to your mouth as his wide hand grazes his belt buckle. "Moved my shit around. Least you could do is be polite."

You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

[AU where Joel Miller ends up in Jackson City by himself.]

warnings/tags: Extremely dubious consent, oral sex [m receiving], rough oral sex, face-fucking, Come shot, Joel is bad at feelings, Mean Joel, Dirty Talk

word count: 6.9k

a/n: Y'all, this whole series is pretty depraved (from my perspective) and much darker than my normal stuff. I wanted it as a challenge and I had a lot of fun doing the series, there's 5 parts so I hope you enjoy it. Comments and the like really make my day. xx

masterlist

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Chapter 1: Go your Own Way

Joel Miller is the most serious man you've ever seen. The rigidity of his spine when he walks, the dark eyes always darting around in stormy irritation. People still greet him when he goes into the center of town, and he nods politely and makes small talk. But he never looks anything other than bothered.

He terrifies you.

You know his name only because of your friends in the small community of Jackson City. His brother is Tommy, a cheerful man married to Maria with a baby on the way. Tommy is the one that welcomed you into this settlement years ago, the one that settled you into the modest home you now live in on the end of Rancher Street. Larger homes buttress you on either side and yours is dwarfed in comparison but you don’t care. You still can’t believe you have your own house. Your own bed. Your own everything.

You watched the survivors come from all over the globe, watched as the community swelled in number and joy over the years. It was like a slice of heaven in and amongst a hellish landscape of the undead.

And then Joel Miller had entered and everything for you changed.

Tommy and Joel couldn't be more different. Tommy is sweet and polite and likes to ask after people to make sure they're okay. He’s stoic and his dark eyes light up when he laughs or makes a joke.

Joel keeps to himself. He doesn't talk to many people. He answers people with a serious tone in his drawl. He likes horses and he likes music, that's as much as you can tell about what he likes because he rarely does anything else.

When he'd moved into Jackson City he'd been given the home next to yours. Yours was a simple one bedroom, meant for singles, his was a spanning home with a garage. You rarely saw him outside unless he was headed for the stables or communal meals.

Sometimes on nights your window was open to let in the night breeze you heard him playing his guitar in his place. On rare occasions he sang, his voice rasping and mournful under the chords. It made your chest tight and your eyes prick with tears. It made you remember a youth you’d rather forget.

It was actually the music that had inspired your first attempt at an introduction.

You'd been out planting in your garden when you heard the front door to his place creak open. You walked casually over to the fence that separated your properties to see him sitting on the front stoop of his place, a pale blue coffee mug in one hand.

He was looking into the middle distance, his profile strong. You'd leaned on the fence, hoping to catch his attention. As a man always on alert he had, his dark eyes sliding over to you as you greeted him.

"You play really well," you told him enthusiastically, recalling the tune you heard him play late into the night the evening prior. "Was that Fleetwood Mac you were singing yesterday?"

Joel hadn't replied. In fact he'd given you the coldest look you'd ever received, stood up and gone back into his house. You'd stood there looking after him in shock for several moments until going back to your gardening.

When you'd told your friend Trish what happened that following Tuesday during your weekly "book club" (drinking poorly made wine and playing cards) she'd laughed in that annoying way of hers and told you to stop being so sensitive.

Trish told you that Joel Miller was rude to everyone. That the only reason people put up with it was because his brother was Tommy and because Joel himself was one of the few bachelors in the community. Then she’d gotten a soft look in her eyes and sighed that Joel was gorgeous in that sullen, quiet way that made older men mysterious. You hadn’t understood that, having never found poor humor and a bad attitude attractive.

You’d decided it had been a one-off. Maybe Joel was just tired that morning. You tried waving to him if you saw him in the street, one hand usually on the reigns of a horse tugging it gently behind him. He never returned the gesture.

It came to a head when you and Trish had been to a movie night in the square some months later, the summer heat always driving you indoors where it was cooler. They were playing an old science fiction feature and finding seats was near impossible. It was always like this when a popular film was showing. The popcorn lay in big tubs and patrons brought bowls to scoop the kernels into.

The children were hunched in front of the large white blanket that acted as a screen chatting animatedly. Your co-workers waved, observing how busy it was as you scanned the space, seeing an empty chair in the middle row near the back. Trish told you to grab it and that she'd search for another free one.

You'd been so intent on taking the chair that you didn't even realize who was seated next to you until you plopped down, brushing arms with the bare forearm next to you.

You noticed his jeans first, the way they seemed molded to his muscular thighs. Then his forearms, his plaid shirt rolled to the elbows and then finally up his neck to his profile, the full lips, the hawkish nose and the dark eyes that you could clearly see were trying to ignore your presence.

"Hello neighbor," you'd chirped trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. You'd watched as he glanced out the corner of his eyes at you, nodding briefly. Emboldened by this you motioned towards the large white sheet.

“You a big fan of Charlton Heston?”

He’d given a short nod, a grunt of a reply. This had felt like such progress to you and you relaxed a bit into the seat. You saw Trish heading your way with popcorn in hand and your knee bumped into Joel’s as you swivelled in your chair, angling your neck to see if there were any other free seats.

"Do you see any other empty seats? My friend Trish-"

He gave you one sharp look, scanning your body from top to bottom before rolling his eyes and jerking from his seat. Your face went bright red as he sidled past you just as Trish approached with popcorn.

"What was that?" Trish asked, looking after his frame quickly disappearing down the street. You'd shrugged, embarrassment overtaking you.

But the message was clear: Joel Miller can't stand you.

You suppose after that is when you decided on payback. Something innocent, really, silly in hindsight. Something that would irritate him on a daily basis.

The plan was to hide his guitar somewhere within his home. Specifically, in the back of his under his kitchen sink... then the bathtub ... then under his bed.

It's immature, especially at your age. But you'd missed out on so much life during those twenty years of running and hiding that this felt fun.

You could imagine him going insane trying to find it. Shouting angrily when he realized it was misplaced only to find it popping up in random places in his home.

It was an innocuous prank, borne out of boredom and humiliation. And if Joel caught on or accused you and brought you before the sheriff, what could they do? The guitar never left his house. How could it be stealing?

It had seemed like the perfect plan.

But now as you pull the black hooded jacket over dark jeans and look into the night sky this evening, you're wondering if this was really is the best idea.

You've gotten away with it twice before. Once to hide the guitar in his shower. Once under his kitchen sink.

You do this once a month on one of the evenings that everyone is at the movies. After your last experience with Joel, when you started to internally begin cataloguing his movements, you'd noticed that Joel attends every single one. His only habitual act that you can count on.

His visits with Tommy are regular but never scheduled, sometimes they go to the bar, sometimes at Joel's and you assume, sometimes at Tommy's. He's not a big joiner, not found during game nights at the canteen. He rides, that much you've seen and know. He likes to be around the animals.

There’s not much to do in the evenings in Jackson City, and that usually rests easily on the community. After so much violence it’s nice to have quiet, peaceful nights. But the movie nights provide popular and give you enough time to act, a good hour and a half minimum. You could push it to two hours but that seems foolish. It's a perfect time because it's where your neighbors are usually spending their time as well.

The first time you'd navigated from your roof to his, you'd been shocked at how easy it was. Your homes were close together and jumping onto his shingles was nothing more than a gentle leap in the darkness.

The window to his hallway was unlatched, just as yours was, just as most everyone's was. You lived on a glorified compound; no one felt the need to lock up the upper floor windows.

You'd squeezed in, falling gracelessly onto the wood floor. You'd worked quickly, finding the guitar beside the fireplace downstairs and gently placing it into Joel's shower half leaning against the tile.

Then you'd run back, closing the window after you, jumping back onto your roof and throwing yourself back into your bedroom with your heart in your throat. You hadn’t taken time to catch your breath before you'd rushed down your own steps and run to the movies, coming in the back to make it seem like you'd always been there, standing near the far corner with your heart racing, trying not to giggle.

When the lights flickered on and everyone rose to leave you made sure that Joel saw you, brushing past him intentionally. You had to have an alibi. He needed to see that you’d been here the whole night, just as he had.

"Excuse me," you'd said airily, not even put off by the silence of his reply when you ‘bumped’ into him.

The second time in his place you were finding an appropriate hiding spot for his guitar when you'd noticed other things about him. Like the detailed wood carvings that lined the mantle over the fireplace. The paintings of landscapes filled with animals hung around the sparsely decorated home.

You’d taken time to wander around the home, noticing the records, the other guitars hung on the wall. You’d seen the reading glasses on the coffee table in front of the sofa and the woodworking space in the garage. It had been thrilling seeing this interior life, knowing that the impenetrable Joel Miller wore reading glasses and carved wood figurines. There was something beautiful in those small pieces of him.

But tonight as you stand looking at yourself in your mirror you wonder if maybe that's enough. You've had your fun. You've tricked him twice; you've snooped in his home. That's enough.

That should be enough.

But you haven’t seen his bedroom yet. Something holds you back every single time you consider it. You’ve walked by that closed door twice, knowing that solving the mystery of Joel Miller could be even closer if you just walked over the threshold.

You’re broken from these thoughts when you hear his front door open. You creep to your bedroom window, hiding in the shadows to see his tall frame pulling his jacket on, locking his front door and heading to the center of town for the film. His boots crunch the leaves underfoot as he moves and when he turns the corner you know it's time to move.

You traverse across your roof silently, cloaked in the darkness of the night. The neighborhood is mercifully quiet and you take a moment to appreciate the view. Your thankful for the still of the evening, the quiet and you glance up to see the stars dotting the sky.

Then you’re back focusing, leaping onto Joel's roof and hurriedly moving inside. You pass the familiar sights of his closed bedroom door, the creaking wood hallway leading to bathroom. The single red toothbrush that sits sadly in a fogged water glass. You jog quickly downstairs to retrieve the guitar, always in its stand by the fireplace.

It gleams in the moonlight streaming through the window, as if it’s begging you to grab it, to hide it, to play a game. You take it into your hands, always sure to be careful with it. Pulling a prank on him is one thing, willful destruction quite another.

It's your last time doing this, you've decided. So where should you hide it?

The answer comes to you almost immediately - his bedroom. The only room of his house you haven't snooped yet. The only space of his that you haven’t conquered. Excited tingles go through you as you race back up the creaking step to his bedroom, pushing the door open without ceremony before your nerves overtake you.

It's a simple box shaped room, larger but the exactly the same shape as yours, which is exactly the same as the many homes that line these streets. Joel's is much less inviting than yours though.

He has a bed near the window, tan sheets and blue coverlet. The bed is hastily made, as if he'd been in a rush to leave. There is a small nightstand next to his bed holding a pile of books. On one wall is a well built shelf holding a myriad of records, all ones you've heard him play and on the table below it is the record player.

You observe that his closet doors are half open and you pull them smoothly apart, your gaze going hungrily over the contents inside. You’re amazed at how neat and organized it is. Shirts and jackets are hung, hats on shelves, belts strung on hooks.

The familiar green plaid is hanging there dead center, reminding you of that embarrassment at the movies. Despite this your fingers go to the fabric and you find it soft with use and age. Without thinking you dip your face forward, dragging the fabric to your nose and you inhale. It smells like him, or how you imagine he smells. Like the outdoors and fresh laundry and warm cologne. Probably the cologne you saw in his bathroom during your last adventure.

You take the smooth neck of the guitar and place it gently in the far side of the closet floor, next to what looks like a beat-up tan backpack. You close the closet doors with a smile of self satisfaction, imagining what his reaction will be.

You've never actually seen Joel get upset by these pranks but one day working on your garden you did hear him complaining to Tommy over coffee that he must be getting old because he can’t remember where I put my fucking guitar.

You'd giggled yourself silly at that, trying your best not to be heard as you moved the soil under your gloves. It had tickled you immensely to know that your small inconvenience was upsetting him. You felt vindicated for the way he had treated you.

You stand in the center of his bedroom and your eyes drift back to that pile of books and you find yourself curious about what he reads. You traces the spines with your forefinger and your gaze and you're shocked when you find classics by Jane Austen and books on astronomy. You'd expected worn paperbacks of cowboys or travel.

You notice that behind this stack of books there's a framed photo of a smiling Joel and a sweet faced little girl, obviously his daughter at what looks like a carnival. You can see a waving Tommy in the distance. You’re shocked at how different Joel looks when he smiles, his dark eyes crinkling authentically, his smile broad and his face boyish. Perhaps he is sort of attractive, in a brooding way.

You notice the yellow of age in the corner of the photograph and the realization that the photo is over twenty years old. When you look closer you can see Joel is younger, his hair and beard not threaded with grey.

Knowing what that means in this dark world of carnage is what solidifies the realization that you've overstepped.

You need to leave. Fuck the prank. Fuck harassing a guy who clearly has very good reason to not like people. You were so quick to judge, so fast to make it about you when maybe, just maybe, he was just a loner who never got over the loss of his kid.

You even think about taking the guitar back to its place by the fire when you hear the distant jingle of keys hitting the lock to the front door.

What the fuck? He was supposed to be gone at least another hour!

Your heart sinks when you hear him enter his home, tossing the keys onto the kitchen table and moving quickly to the stairs.

Fuck.

Now his footsteps are on the creaking staircase coming your way. If you run for the window in the hallway he'll see you through the gaps in the banister. If you hide under the bed you'll be easily seen.

Panic overtakes you and you do the only thing you can think of and dash into the closet, sure to avoid hitting the guitar with your leg. You close the doors, leaving them open just a hair, just as he had.

You don’t want to arouse suspicion. You'll just stay here a little bit. Wait until he goes back downstairs and then try to sneak back out the window.

"The fuck?"

You hear Joel on the landing and now you realize your fatal mistake when he murmurs something else to himself and you hear the heavy sound of the window being closed.

You left the fucking window open.

He knows someone is inside.

You cover your mouth, muffling the shallow pants of terror that go through you when Joel enters the bedroom. Through the slits between the slightly parted closet doors you can just make him out. He doesn’t turn on the light in the bedroom, so everything is still bathed in a blanket of darkness tinged blue from the moon’s glow.

He’s wearing a flannel, this one tighter around the shoulder, emphasizing the muscles of his back and broad expanse of his upper body. He looks suspiciously around, his face stoic like someone on a deadly mission.

He walks past the closet, his body strong and his movement’s solid in a way that intimidates you. If he wanted he could snap you in half and not break a sweat. He scans the room before slowly dropping to his knees beside the bed, craning his head to see underneath.

When he sees it's clear he stands again and moves out of your view.

You tilt your head, trying to listen for his footfalls but hear nothing but silence. Did he go downstairs? You figure he's gone to check out the other rooms when the closet doors fly open revealing you to him.

Joel is there, his hands on either door as he looks down at your hooded frame hunched in the corner.

"I fucking knew it."

He reaches in and pulls you out of the closet by the arm of your jacket but you stumble out, wrenching out of his grip enough to run into the hallway, your heart pounding.

The window is closed. It'll take too long to open. Your best bet is to run downstairs and out the front door. You think since you're hood is still on he hasn't seen your face properly and there is a chance to make an escape.

You move swiftly down the hallway, your eyes on the nearing stairs but he's immediately there, gripping you by the back of your jacket and tugging harshly. You fall back into his arms before he’s whirled you around to face him.

You give a sharp yelp when he slams you against the nearest wall, his hand around your throat pinning you there.

"Who the fuck are you?"

His voice is loud and echoes in the barren hallway. He sounds furious, not that you're shocked. If you'd come home to a stranger hiding in your closet you likely wouldn't be elated either. You try to hide your face in the hood of your jacket, panic making you feel cold all over. If you could just-

His large hand comes to rip the hood of your head, taking with it a few loose strands of your hair. You give a hiss of pain as your scalp tingles.

You're caught.

Joel's stares down at you with fury in those dark eyes of his that fades abruptly when he recognizes you. "You live next door."

He still has you loosely pinned to the wall by the throat, but now he drops his hand, gliding it down your collar before pulling it from your body. He smooths his palm over his wavy hair, not out of nerves but more out of disbelief at seeing you of all people in his home.

"Did I hurt you?"

You stare up at him in shock. You've broken into his house and he's the one asking if you're hurt? You shake your head. The slam of your back against the wall had shocked you more than anything. He looks confused, his eyes narrowing on your face.

"How'd you get in my house? Why are you here?"

You're both breathing heavily and you can only hope he doesn't see the fear in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sputter instead of answering him. "Just a joke, was just-"

"How did you get into my house?" He repeats though this time his voice isn't as hard, more curious.

"I j-just climbed in the window," you explain shakily pointing to the window at the end of the hall. "My roof is close enough to yours that..."

You trail off, not wanting to incriminate yourself further. He's so close to you that you can feel his warm breath falling over your cheeks.

"I've never stolen anything," you assure him just in case that's what's really upsetting him. "Never touched any of your stuff except your guitar. Just hid it a few times and I was really careful with it."

"Why were you doin' that?'

"It was just a joke," you say again weakly, though now under his severe eye line you can't understand why at one time you thought it was so amusing.

He's not responding, not replying, just staring at you with that inscrutable gaze. There is a flutter of panic starting in your belly, the realization that no one knows you’re trapped between Joel Miller and the wall. The knowledge that despite a few interactions, he remains a mystery.

"I should get back home," you whisper, trying to sidle off to the left. "My boyfriend is waiting for m-"

His palm comes to lay flat against the wall just next to you, boxing you in. Its dark in the hallway, but the moon hits you both, silhouetting you and showing you Joel’s expressive eyes.

"You live alone," Joel says with a sigh, as if your lie has disappointed him. "Have for as long as I've been here. Only company you get at your place is on Tuesday nights with that gal of yours."

You gape up at Joel, shocked at how accurate he is. Your brows furrow in confusion. "How do you know that?"

"Same reason you know I go to the movies every other week."

He's been watching you.

Just as you've been watching him. And while you know why you've been following his schedule, noting his arrivals and departures you can't understand why he would be doing the same for you. He just keeps staring at you in that intense way of his that makes you feel warm and tingly all over.

"My friend Trish-"

"No one knows you're here," Joel murmurs, his eyes moving to your mouth and then back to your eyes. His voice is so low, so velvety, so soothing despite the inherent menace in the sentence.

You swallow thickly, the sensation of fear slowly curving the length of your spine. You’re suddenly so aware about how little you know of Joel Miller. For all you know he could be a serial killer.

But that doesn't fit with how he's studying your face. He looks more open, even bordering on amused. But that can't be right, he can't stand you and now he knows you've broken into his house on more than one occasion.

"Had a feeling someone was fucking with me,' Joel observes evenly. "S'why I turned around tonight. Realized the guitar thing only happens when I'm out at the movies."

You remain silent, feeling so stupid. Why had you needed to keep going? Why didn't you just go with your gut instinct and stay home?

"I’ll go," you croak, hoping that Joel will take pity on you and just let you leave. Joel's face remains placid, his hand going to rest where your neck meets your shoulder, stopping you from leaving.

"You broke into my house," Joel says moving his eyes from your eyes back down to your mouth. "Moved my shit around. Least you could do is be polite."

Polite? What is that supposed to mean?

The meaning becomes quite obvious when you feel his heavy hand on your shoulder begin to press, moving you back to slide down the wall until you're on your knees between he and it. The wood floor bites into your denim clad knees, but you remain still.

His eyes stay on your face as realization dawn's on you. His fingertips are ghosting over your shoulder and you watch as his free hand goes to his jeans, undoing the button and bringing down the zipper. You can see his pale boxers underneath and watch his hand flexing.

Your eyes dart back up to his face, seeing the way he towers over you, his breathing elevated only slightly and his eyes fixed on yours.

Why aren't you running?

He reaches and grips your wrist in his fingers. You watch almost detached as he opens your hand with his own and slides it under the waistband of his boxers.

Why aren't you screaming?

His stomach is warm and taut, strangely smooth for a man of his vocation. You hesitate before his hand is forcing yours to continue, wrapping it tightly around his hard cock. You hold in a gasp as your palm hits it, instinctively curling.

"Like that," he murmurs gently.

He's warm and thick and under your exploratory fingers you can feel him twitch which excites as well as terrifies you. He hisses through his teeth softly as you begin to squeeze, your eyes focused on his face. His eyes never leaving yours, the full mouth dropping open as he groans.

You continue slowly, feeling the ridge of his shaft, the pulsing heat of that iron under velvety skin. He has his palm flat on the wall above your head, his forehead moves to rest in the crook of his arm as he gently shifts his hips.

You stare up at him from your spot kneeling on the floor, still in disbelief that this is happening. Usually just the sight of him walking down the same street as you is enough to send you bolting in the other direction.

But now his gaze is soft and half lidded. His mouth isn't curled into a sneer or scowl. Joel Miller is much less intimidating when he's leaning into your stroking hand.

Then with a soft grunt he bats your hand away and brings himself out of his boxers. You hide a sigh at the sight of his broad hand curling around his thick cock. You hadn’t expected beauty in him, a softness of movement inside his rigid edges.

He remains standing there unmoving and watches you stare, breathing shallowly as you drink him in. You think he must like it because you can see droplets of pre-cum gathering on the tip. It's obvious what he wants.

Your heart gallops. "I don't-"

"'Course I could just go down to the sheriff and see what they make of this break in," Joel interrupts tightly. "Whatever you'd prefer."

It's blackmail, plain and simple. And considering how the threat of being tossed into the wild with the ravenous clickers is always an option when it comes to the sheriff, you know your choices are limited.

His large hand has come to slip over the head of his cock, his hips moving to press into his fingers slowly. You seriously consider your chance of survival outside these walls survival when Joel tilts his head slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I think you want it," he croons, his hand continuing to stroke himself shallowly. "Think you've wanted my cock for a while now, pretty eyes. Just been afraid to ask for it."

You frown, protestations dying on your lips as you consider his words. Had a small part of you been wondering what lay beneath your neighbors rough exterior? Was that why you had been so determined to engage with him in the first place?

Wait, did he call you pretty eyes?

A steady thrum starts between your legs at that, your knees pressing into the wood floor harshly. You feel too warm in your jacket, but you don't dare move. You feel like a trapped animal trying to outwit an apex predator.

"Just a taste," Joel suggests when you don't reply, his hand moving from his cock to cup your cheek. You feel your lips parting subconsciously to take in a sharp breath as you regard him twitching inches from your mouth.

Fuck why are you even considering this? You should be screaming, running away, not on your knees and looking at Joel's hard cock with what feels like a burgeoning anticipation.

No. You're not doing this. It's fucking degrading. You barely know Joel Miller and this is- Your eyes fly open when his hand comes to grip your chin. His eyes are heavy lidded with lust, the pupils blown wide.

"Open up," he commands huskily.

When you don't immediately acquiesce you feel his thumb drag over your lower lip, curling over your bottom teeth and urging your mouth to open for him.

After a moment of consideration your jaw goes slack and you feel your heart leap when Joel gives you a ghost of a smile. There is a brief shadow and you're almost convicted you saw a dimple in his right cheek.

You don't have time to consider this because he's taken his cock in his hand again, stroking the base languidly.

"Mouth open. Tongue out."

You hesitate, wondering how far this is all going to go. He's not actually going to go through with this, is he? You open your mouth a bit, your breathing coming out in hurried puffs. The amusement has fled from his features and he narrows those dark eyes of his on you

"Tongue. Out."

The words are clipped and offer no room for negotiation. With a quiver that goes through your core, you do as instructed, slowly inching your tongue out of your mouth and letting it hang over your lower lip.

He moves slowly, but you're still shocked when his hips shift forward. You turn your head at the last minute, panic overtaking you. Joel gives a grunt and you feel the warmth of his cock pressing against your cheek having just narrowly missed your mouth.

He growls in frustration, his hand coming to grip the back of your head as he drags his cock along your cheek. You feel the pre-cum smearing along your skin to the corner of your mouth like some debauched trail of pleasure but you seal your mouth closed, a small form of rebellion.

"Don't make me ask again."

His voice is low and dangerous. If it hadn't been so intimidating you might have pointed out that he hadn't asked for anything, just demanded. But as it is you’re caught in his home, his hand is wrapped in your hair and he doesn’t look like he’s fucking around.

You tilt your jaw and again stick out your tongue. With cock still in hand, he taps the weeping head onto your flattened tongue before letting it rest there, heavy and pulsing. The salty flavor of him explodes on your tongue, the ridges of his cock pronounced on your sensitive tongue.

Your eyes crack open and move up the length of his body, noting that Joel's breathing picks up when your eyes meet his again.

Without ceremony he slips past your lips, tensing only when you let out a small cry of surprise. When you offer no other protestations his cock inches further into the slick heat of your mouth. He gives a small shudder, his head tilting back and exposing the column of his neck.

Your eyes shutter closed, your mouth working around him, confused as to why you're not fighting this more.

"You deserve this," he says through slow exhales, his hand bracing on the wall behind you. His eyes are closed so you're not sure if he's talking to you or to himself.

His hips snap forward and you whimper, feeling him inch closer to the back of your throat. One of his hands moves down to stroke your hair as he withdraws, his slick cock dragging against your lower lip. You exhale through your nose, catching your breath as you look up at him.

He's breathing heavily, his mouth parted ever so slightly.

"You can take it all," he tells you plainly.

And without another word he's thrust himself back fully into your mouth. So deep that your nose brushes against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. You feel him hit the back of your throat and it takes everything not to gag or pull back. You have a feeling if you did he'd stop.

But you want to continue. You want to hear what other noises Joel Miller makes when he gets his cock sucked.

Does he do this often? Instruct women like he's done to you this evening? Fuck their mouths? The thought overruns your senses, imagining Joel in the throes of orgasm. Imagining that its you doing it to him. Your tongue swirls on the underside of him and you're rewarded with a shallow gasp.

Joel groans, watching your bob your head along his shaft. His hands are on either side of your jaw, guiding you along his slick member.

"I just know this is makin' you wet," Joel grunts as his hips continue to thrust forward. "Me fucking this sweet mouth of yours."

While you wish you could deny it, he's completely right. You are shocked at how wet you are. You can feel it there, pooling between your legs as you suck him.

His movements increase in tempo, the motions are abrupt and you search for purchase anywhere. Your hands go to the bottom of his t-shirt, gripping it as you urge him to bury himself completely in your mouth.

He growls as he begins to fuck your throat hard, so hard your head jerks back and presses into the wall behind you. He pins your head there and shoves his cock deeper into your throat, giving sharp moans as you whimper and writhe, knowing you can't escape. For a moment all you can feel and see is Joel's cock, slick with your saliva sliding between your lips over and over again. After a few guttural grunts and thrusts his movements slow and he lets his cock simply pulse there, your lips straining to wrap around it.

"Show me those pretty eyes," he murmurs. He doesn't need to ask you twice, you lift your gaze up the length of him, hollowing your cheeks. When your eyes finally meet Joel's you hear a sharp inhale from him.

"You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now," he says, his teeth clenching as you continue to suck him. "F-fuck, those eyes staring up at me.. Your mouth so... So full of my cock... You like it don't you? Having my cock fill your sweet mouth?"

You make a low humming noise of approval. Those words, those filthy, delicious words wrap around your insides. Now your hands are at the base of his cock, stroking him as you swivel your tongue along his shaft.

"So good," he grunts, his hand going to the top of your head. But instead of using it to brace you and push further into your mouth, it just rests there, almost fondly.

It's you who grips the back of his thighs, urging him down your throat. You who moans wantonly not for him but because you're so turned on you can barely function.

You suppose that's what tips him over the edge, your open desire.

Now his movements are erratic and he's fucking into your mouth so harshly you think you might faint. Not from pain but because it feels so fucking good to be used like this. So taboo to have the grouch from next door using your mouth for his pleasure. So fucking heady knowing that he’s going to come because of you.

Your hands fly back to the base of his cock, stroking him as you swivel your tongue along his shaft. He makes a sound that could almost be a whimper if it weren't so low and gravelly. He tilts his chin down, watching you.

"You want my come?" He grunts, pulling your hair back at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze to his. You nod, your mouth stuffed with him and he makes a noise in the back of his throat as he pulls out from between your lips.

"Say it.” He's visibly shuddering as he takes his cock in his hand and begins stroking.

"I want it," you whimper, your body aflame.

"What do you want?" He asks jerkily, his movements becoming staccato-ed. "You know what I wanna hear."

"Please Joel," you say; drifting forward and licking the reddened head of his straining cock. "I want your come. Please."

He licks his lower lip swiftly.

"Fuck yeah you do," he sighs almost reverently before the fist around his cock increases in speed. "You're gonna take every last drop aren't you?"

Another nod from you and now your tongue is out, flattened and ready for him as you arch. Joel makes a tortured sound in the back of his throat.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me," Joel whispers raggedly. "Don't you dare look away."

Your eyes open just in time to see Joel Miller come undone before you. The face normally contorted into a frown or grimace is replaced by his mouth curved into a disbelieving smile as he looks down at you, his breathing coming out in short little rasps. Then he stills and you watch him spill out over his hand.

Thick ropes of his come erupt over you, landing in warm strips along your cheeks, your lips, your tongue. His hand continues stroking, painting you with him, muttering filth that you can't really hear before he is spent.

Joel's legs tremble a moment, but grow steady as he leans against the wall with his forearm. You go to wipe your face but Joel shakes his head.

"Don't move," Joel demands breathlessly. "I.. I just need to look at you."

You sit there, your face decorated with his seed and your eyes fixed on his face for what feels like forever. He looks at you as if you are art. As if you were designed and molded to be everything he wants.

You want to bathe in the warmth of his eyes forever, but soon his breathing becomes even. He tucks himself back into his boxers and zips up his jeans.

You sit there expectantly, unsure of what to do next. After everything that happened is-

"Get out."

You blink twice as the words sink in. You’re still kneeling there, still staring up at him when Joel pulls back, his gaze hard again. He raises a brow in irritation, a silent question of why are you still here?

Humiliated again by Joel Miller.

You hastily wipe at the cooling seed on your face with the arm of your jacket as you scramble to a stand. Your eyes go to the stairs, thinking of how you'll get back inside your place and you make a motion to go down them. His hand shoots out, holding it in front of you to stop your movement. You notice he doesn’t touch you when he does this.

"You can go the way you came," Joel says without inflection and somehow this option of escape feels like a further sting. He steps back, indicating the hallway window with a tip of his head and you move past him quickly, hot tears pricking the back of your eyes.

You pull open the window with ease, not looking behind you to see if he’s watching. You hope he’s not. You pull yourself over the sill and lower yourself onto the roof. You hate yourself for looking back over your shoulder, hoping he’ll stop you and bring you back inside.

Instead you watch as Joel brings his wide hands to the lip of the window, preparing to shut it the moment he stops speaking.

"Don't ever break into my house again."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #smut #fanfic #pedro pascal #dad joel miller #fanfiction #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #deaddovedecember2023

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cripplecharacters · 1 year

Text

Writing Intellectually Disabled Characters

[large text: writing intellectually disabled characters]

Something that very rarely comes up in disability media representation are intellectually disabled characters. There is very little positive representation in media in general (and basically none in media meant specifically for adults or in YA). I hope this post can maybe help someone interested in writing disabled characters understand the topic better and create something nice. This is just a collection of thoughts of only one person with mild ID (me) and I don't claim to speak for the whole community as its just my view. This post is meant to explain how some parts of ID work and make people aware of what ID is.

This post is absolutely not meant for self diagnosis (I promise you would realize before seeing a Tumblr post about it. it's a major disorder that gets most people thrown into special education).

Before: What is (and isn't) intellectual disability?

ID is a single, life-long neurodevelopment condition that affects IQ and causes problems with reasoning, problem‑solving, remembering and planning things, abstract thinking and learning. There is often delay or absence of development milestones like walking (and other kinds of movement), language and self care skills (eating, going to the bathroom, washing, getting dressed etc). Different people will struggle with different things to different degrees. I am, for example, still fully unable to do certain movements and had a lot of delay in self-care, but I had significantly less language-related delay than most of people with ID I know. Usually the more severe a person's ID is the more delay they will have.

Intellectual disability is one single condition and it doesn't make sense to call it "intellectual disabilities" (plural) or "an intellectual disability". It would be like saying "they have a Down Syndrome" or "he has autisms". The correct way would be "she has intellectual disability" or "ze is intellectually disabled".

Around 1-3% of people in the world have intellectual disability and most have mild ID (as opposed to moderate, severe, or profound). It can exist on its own without any identifiable condition or it can be a part of syndrome. There is over a thousand (ranging from very common to extremely rare) conditions that can cause ID but some of the most common are;

Down Syndrome,

Fragile X Syndrome,

Fetal Alcohol Syndrome,

Autism,

Edwards Syndrome,

DiGeorge Syndrome,

Microcephaly.

Not every condition always causes ID and you can have one of the above conditions without having ID as long as it's not necessary diagnostic criteria to be met. For example around 30% of autistic people have ID, meaning that the rest 70% doesn't. It just means that it's comorbid often enough to be counted as a major cause but still, autistic ≠ intellectually disabled most of the time.

A lot of things that cause intellectual disability also come with facial differences, epilepsy, mobility-related disabilities, sensory disabilities, and limb differences. A lot, but not all, intellectually disabled people go to special education schools.

Intellectual disability isn't the same as brain damage. Brain damage can occur at any point of a person's life while ID always starts in or before childhood.

"Can My Character Be [Blank]?"

[large text: "Can my character be [blank]?"]

The difficulty with writing characters with intellectual disability is that unlike some other things you can give your character, ID will very directly impacts how your character thinks and behaves - you can't make the whole character and then just slap the ID label on them.

Intellectually disabled people are extremely diverse in terms of personality, ability, verbality, mobility... And you need to consider those things early because deciding that your character is nonverbal and unable to use AAC might be an issue if you're already in the middle of writing a dialogue scene.

For broader context, a person with ID might be fully verbal - though they would still probably struggle with grammar, what some words mean, or with general understanding of spoken/written language to some degree. Or they could also be non-verbal. While some non-verbal ID people use AAC, it's not something that works for everyone and some people rely on completely language-less communication only. There is also the middle ground of people who are able to speak, but only in short sentences, or in a way that's not fully understandable to people who don't know them. Some might speak in second or third person.

Depending on the severity of your character's disability they will need help with different tasks. For example, I'm mildly affected and only need help with "complex" tasks like shopping or taxes or appointments, but someone who is profoundly affected will probably need 24/7 care. It's not infantilization to have your character receive the help that they need. Disabled people who get help with bathing or eating aren't "being treated like children", they just have higher support needs than me or you. In the same vein, your character isn't "mentally two years old" or "essentially a toddler", they are a twenty-, or sixteen-, or fourty five-year old who has intellectual disability. Mental age isn't real. Intellectually disabled people can drink, have sex, smoke, swear, and a bunch of other things. A thirty year old disabled person is an adult, not a child!

An important thing is that a person with ID has generally bad understanding of cause-and-effect and might not make connections between things that people without ID just instinctively understand. For example, someone could see that their coat is in a different place than they left it, but wouldn't be able to deduce that then it means that someone else moved it or it wouldn’t even occur to them as a thing that was caused by something. I think every (or at least most) ID person struggles with this to some extent. The more severe someone's disability is the less they will be able to connect usually (for example someone with profound ID might not be able to understand the connection between the light switch and the light turning off and on).

People with mild intellectual disability have the least severe problems in functioning and some are able to live independently, have a job, have kids, stuff like that.

What Tropes Should You Avoid?

[large text: what tropes should you avoid?]

The comic relief/punching bag;

The predator/stalker;

The "you could change this character into a sick dog and there wouldn't be much difference";

...and a lot more but these are the most prevalent in my experience.

Most ID characters are either grossly villainized (more often if they have also physical disabilities or facial differences) or extremely dehumanized or ridiculed, or all of the above. It's rarely actually *mentioned* for a character to be intellectually disabled, but negative "representation" usually is very clear that this who they're attempting to portray. The portrayal of a whole group of people as primarily either violent predators, pitiful tragedies or nothing more than a joke is damaging and you probably shouldn't do that. It's been done too many times already.

When those tropes aren't used the ID character is still usually at the very most a side character to the main (usually abled) character. They don't have hobbies, favorite foods, movies or music they like, love interests, friends or pets of their own and are very lucky if the author bothered to give them a last name. Of course it's not a requirement to have all of these but when there is *no* characterization in majority of disabled characters, it shows. They also usually die in some tragic way, often sacrificing themselves for the main character or just disappear in some off-the-screen circumstances. Either way, they aren't really characters, they're more like cardboard cutouts of what a character should be - the audience has no way to care for them because the author has put no care into making the character interesting or likable at all. Usually their whole and only personality and character trait is that they have intellectual disability and it's often based on what the author thinks ID is without actually doing any research.

What Terms to Use and Not Use

[large text: What Terms to Use and Not Use]

Words like: "intellectually disabled" or "with/have intellectual disability" are terms used by people with ID and generally OK to use from how much I know. I believe more people use the latter (person first language) for themselves but i know people who use both. I use the first more often but I don't mind the second. Some people have strong preference with one over the other and that needs to be respected.

Terms like:

"cursed with intellectual disability"

"mentally [R-slur]"

"moron"

"idiot"

"feeble-minded"

"imbecile"

is considered at least derogatory by most people and I don't recommend using it in your writing. The last 5 terms directly come from outdated medical terminology specifically regarding ID and aren't just "rude", they're ableist and historically connected to eugenics in the most direct way they could be. To me personally they're highly offensive and I wouldn't want to read something that referred to its character with ID with those terms.

(Note: there are, in real life, people with ID that refer to themselves with the above... but this is still just a writing guide. Unless you belong to the group i just mentioned I would advise against writing that, especially if this post is your entire research so far.)

Things I Want to See More of in Characters with Intellectual Disability

[large text: Things I Want to See More of in Characters with Intellectual Disability]

[format borrowed from WWC]

I want to see more characters with intellectual disability that...

aren’t only white boys.

are LGBT+.

are adults.

are allowed to be angry without being demonized, and sad without being infantilized.

are not described as "mentally X years old".

are respected by others.

aren't "secretly smart" or “emotionally smart”.

are able to live independently with some help.

aren't able to live independently at all and aren't mocked for that.

are in romantic relationships or have crushes (interabled... or not!).

are non-verbal or semi-verbal.

use mobility aids and/or AAC.

have hobbies they enjoy.

have caregivers.

have disabilities related to their ID.

have disabilities completely unrelated to their ID.

have friends and family who like and support them.

go on cool adventures.

are in different genres: fantasy, romComs, action, slice of life... all of them.

have their own storylines.

aren't treated as disposable.

don't die or disappear at the first possible opportunity.

...and I want to see stories that have multiple intellectually disabled characters.

I hope that this list will give someone inspiration to go and make their first OC with intellectual disability ! This is just a basic overview to motivate writers to do their own research rather than a “all-knowing post explaining everything regarding ID”. I definitely don't know everything especially about the parts of ID that I just don't experience (or not as much as others). This is only meant to be an introduction for people who don't really know what ID is or where to even start.

Talk to people with intellectual disability (you can send ask here but there are also a lot of other people on Tumblr who have ID and I know at least some have previously answered asks as well if you want someone else's opinion!), watch/read interviews with people who have ID (to start - link1, link2, both have captions) and try to rethink what you think about intellectual disability. Because it's really not that rare like a lot of people seem to think. Please listen to us when we speak.

Good luck writing and thank you for reading :-) (smile emoji)

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #writing intellectually disabled characters #neurodivergency #terminology #long post #writing advice #writing disabled characters #writeblr #writing reference #writing disability #writing tips #writing resources #writing help #intellectual disability representation

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