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#maybe i needed to go through my own suffering to get here
rea-grimm · 10 hours
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Sleep protector Zoro
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Lately, you've been suffering from terrible nightmares. But you didn't understand why. You weren't under stress, there was nothing that particularly bothered you.
They came out of nowhere like a bolt from the blue. However, they were such nightmares that you were woken up by your own screams.
You didn't deal with it the first few days. You thought you'd get over it on your own. But that didn't happen. Instead, you started getting giant circles under your eyes, and sleep gave you no energy at all. Slowly, the people around you started to see it.
You had another long shift ahead of you and wondered how you were going to get through it. When it was a busy hour, it was fine. You didn't have time to think about being tired.
But when there were few guests, they were worse. How many times have you caught yourself leaning on your arm and your eyelids drooping?
But now it was such a more comfortable evening. Not a few people and not a lot of people. Such an ideal, when you managed to serve customers and your colleague unpacked the goods that arrived in the morning.
"Should I take off my shoes? So that you don't swallow me," your colleague asked you with a laugh as you covered your mouth and yawned. “Hey, if you want to take the day off, just say,” he smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder. 
You just shook your head over it. You didn't need any time off. You've had enough. In addition, you were able to react well here at work.
"I understand, but if you ever wanted to chat over a glass or cup of coffee, I'm here for you," he said encouragingly, before returning to unpacking again.
"Look at this. Isn't he cute?” your colleague asked you as he placed a box of booze next to the bar that he wanted to refill. Shuffled among the bottles was a green teddy bear in a green coat with a red sash.
The teddy bear looked dishevelled. You took him in your hands when you noticed that one of his eyes was missing. The place had a stretchy scar in that place as if someone had sown it there.
"Keep him. Maybe this little fur ball will protect you from the nightmares,” he said with a smile as he levelled the bottles.
"If so, it would be a miracle," you answered sceptically, but you kept him anyway.
You returned home a little after 3 in the morning. You fell into bed and pulled your stuffed animal closer to you. For how dishevelled and rough he looked, he was surprisingly soft. After a long time, you fell asleep like nothing.
At first, it looked like you were going to wake up again because of the nightmare that was tyrannizing you. At worst, a young man in a green coat appeared there like a bolt from the blue with 3 swords and cut your night demons as if they were made of paper.
The night fury had dissipated, but new ones could be seen forming on the horizon. The young man assessed the situation and put away his swords before taking you in his arms and running away with you.
You had no idea where he was running and at one point you were afraid you were running towards them. You finally ran away from them and hid in a pub. On the one hand, it reminded you of the bar you worked in, and on the other hand, you knew deep down that it was a completely different bar.
You had no idea that you would sleep this well again. The nightmares were slowly disappearing, but they kept bothering you. The young man with the green hair always had to save you.
Thanks to him, you slowly learned to control your dreams at least partially. Or rather, you weren't just a meadow of your wild imagination, you were free to roam.
Thanks to this, you slept better and were full of energy during the day. You were even in the mood to go to the gym after a long time and elsewhere, where you haven't been able to get to recently.
In the end, you decided to go to the gym. You slipped into your sports clothes and went to the first machine.
You decided to try dumbbells too. You put on the weights and started lifting. You made it through a few sets when you started to feel tired.
However, you wanted to finish the set when you missed lifting it 3 times for the last time. You managed it with effort, but you had a lot to do to put the barbell back in the rack. You threatened to drop her on you.
You tried to throw her to the ground, but your hands slowly gave up. You feared the worst when some kind soul saved you. That someone grabbed the barbell and returned it to the supports with ease.
You breathed a sigh of relief and sat up. To your surprise, it was the same green-haired young man from your dreams. But now he was wearing black pants with a white T-shirt.
"Thanks, I thought it was my end," you thanked him.
"No problems. But you should be more careful next time," he replied before going his own way.
You took a moment to rest before heading to the next machine. This time on the treadmill. There weren't many women in the gym and you could feel other people's eyes on you. It was not very pleasant for you, but every time you turned around, they acted as if nothing had happened.
You sighed and focused on running instead. After a while, however, you started to feel their looks again. You wanted to yell at them when it was all over.
You looked over your shoulder and everyone was minding their own business. In doing so, you noticed a green-haired youth with a murderous expression on his face as he worked out on the opposite side. Whoever dared to look at you was met with a murderous look.
When you finished on the treadmill, you moved again to another machine. You noticed that the green-haired followed you here as well.
You felt like you had your own bodyguard the entire time you were in the gym. You had no idea why he was doing it, but he seemed so aware that you didn't even mind.
After some time when you decided to wrap it up for today, you went to the dressing room. You were changing when you heard the scream from the showers. You turned around just in time to see a green-haired with a face as red as a crayfish fleeing.
You giggled at that. You had no idea why, but you automatically knew it was an accident. That he just got slightly lost along the way.
You had a bar shift in the evening. You made the drinks and overall it was such a relaxed evening. You were serving one of the guests when out of the corner of your eye you saw a young man with green hair take a seat at the bar.
As soon as you served the guests in front of him, you went to him. You didn't even ask him what he would like and you immediately reached for a bottle of sake.
“One sake,” you smiled as you placed it in front of him. It wasn't until later that you realized you hadn't even asked him what he would like.
"It is good. This is what I wanted,” he said as if reading your mind. He gave you an encouraging smile before taking a drink.
You were a bit confused by this, you kept thinking about it. However, when you wanted to ask him what he meant, he was gone.
Thanks to your job, you very often worked late into the night or almost into the morning. You came home already tired and sleepy, it's a wonder you didn't fall asleep on the way.
You entered the house and headed to your bed after dark. You were walking around the couch when two strong hands grabbed you. You didn't protest because you knew who it was. That someone pulled you onto the couch and hugged you.
It happened that he rested his head on yours and then you fell asleep together. When you woke up in the morning, you were alone. 
It always felt like a pleasant dream to you, even though you had the impression that you still smelled his scent for a while. However, instead of him, a green teddy bear was lying next to you.
As soon as you woke up, you knew it was going to be a bad day. You first woke up by falling out of bed and spent the whole morning looking for a green teddy bear.
You searched the entire bedroom and almost turned the entire apartment upside down. But he was nowhere. As if he had sunk into the ground.
You thought that made your bad luck go away as nothing out of the ordinary happened during the day.
The evening came and you went to work. However, you were still wondering where the teddy bear had gone. The shift went smoothly like clockwork and everything indicated that it would be a classic evening.
Your friend finished the last of the dishes and you went to lock up when someone grabbed your arms and you felt a knife blade against your neck.
"Don't try anything. Now go inside and you give me all the money. You understand?" the man asked you.
“Yeah,” you breathed. You were afraid that if you nodded in agreement, he would cut you.
“Good. Now move!” he commanded. You led him inside. You understood from the steps that other people were following him. This was seriously a douchebag day.
"Hello, handsome. All the money here, or there will run blood! ” he commanded as you entered. When your colleague saw this, he turned completely pale in this, his hands were tied.
"And hands up! I don't want you accidentally pressing some smart button that will alert the cops!” he added.
Your friend nodded his head in agreement and immediately put his hands up. He didn't want anything to happen to you. He walked over to the cash register and opened it in front of them. Another man walked over to him with a bag of money.
However, before he could take the money out of the cash register, the door burst open and a green-haired young man stood panting in them.
“Finally found it,” he said before frowning. “Hey look Y/N let go! ” he growled dangerously, went inside and closed the door behind him.
"Hold your horses. For now, I'm the one who is holding hostage!” the man who was holding you by the neck snapped at him.
"Zoro!" you called to him pleadingly, fear in your eyes. After that, the man pressed down on your neck until a faint trickle of blood appeared on your skin.
That was the only sign Zoro needed. Out of nowhere, he pulled out three swords, one of which he held with his teeth.
“Hey, don't try any bullshit,” the brute warned him and took a step back with you. His minions rose before him with their weapons aimed at the swordsman.
However, he only frowned more before running towards the brutes. It was a short fight, there was shooting, but the only ones who fell to the ground were the brutes. Zoro stood in front of you with a drawn sword, the tip of which was a millimetre from the neck of the man holding you.
"If you don't want to lose your head, give up! ” he growled at him and by his expression he meant it dead serious. The brute looked at his men writhing in pain on the ground and then at Zoro.
Finally, he pushed you in the swordsman's direction and ran away. Zoro caught you but turned to face the bastard, who he hit in the back of the head with the blunt side of his sword. The man froze before falling to the ground.
You were relieved it was over as soon as Zoro put away his swords you hugged him. He was your solid point that you could rely on.
“I'm so glad you showed up,” you breathed. Zoro wrapped one arm around your waist and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with the other. He has never seen you so scared and upset before. You weren't shaken out like this even before the nightmares.
“Thanks for the rescue, but who are you? Y/N’s boyfriend?” your colleague asked walking over to you. He already had a phone with the police number ready in his hand.
"I'm her protector," Zoro replied, though he paused for a moment.
“Sure,” your colleague smiled as he could see how things were between you two. Or so he thought. He then went outside to call the police and wait for them.
"How is it possible?" you asked him as the two of you found alone at the bar. "I thought you were just a dream."
“Do you remember the promise I made to you when I first saved you?” he asked instead, looking into your eyes. You nodded your head in agreement. That was the first time he saved you from a nightmare.
"I promised you that I would protect you. I'm your protector and that doesn't only apply in dreams, but also here," he said surprisingly softly as he caressed your cheek.
“Thank you,” you replied and kissed him softly in return. When you pulled away, you saw him momentarily lost for words and blushing. Finally, he smiled mischievously and asked for one more. After all, he just saved your life today. Literally.
You just giggled at that before obliging him. However, the next kiss was much longer as Zoro took the initiative.
After that, you went outside together to wait for the police to arrive. It was a long and challenging day. You stood to the side and Zoro hugged you from behind. You leaned on him and you felt safe. Before you knew it and before the police arrived, you fell asleep.
Zoro not only supports you so you don't fall but also protects you so no one wakes you up. Anyone who wanted to talk to you or accidentally wake you up was met with such a stern look that everyone gave up. Not even the police could do anything against him.
When they finally left, Zoro took you home. He was able to get there without getting lost because that place was directly connected to you. He carried you carefully so you wouldn't wake up. At your house, he put you to bed and lay there with you.
Zoro Masterlist
Sleep Protector Masterlist
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random wakanda forever brainrot post but here goes
namor saying that “only the most broken people can be great leaders” is a saying I understand a lot better now as an adult. i used to hate it as a kid, and hated it even more as a teenager.
why should anyone suffer in order to be a capable leader? the answer is pretty stupidly simple.
it’s not just that suffering makes them more resilient, but that they gain the ability to empathise with perspectives no one would be able to unless they go through it themselves. it allows them to fully and viscerally understand and consider the costs of the actions they are going to take or endorse, and then considering the gravity of it all, make those decisions.
and it shouldn't be this way, but it is, and it is true - only the most broken people can be great leaders.
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ffxiv garlemald discourse is so funny because people will go "ugh people just cant stand it when things aren't black and white" and then you look at how the empire are portrayed in stormblood and shadowbringers and its like hm. that seems like a pretty intense and accurate display of violent imperialism to me! Wow I wonder why people in this day and age may find it hard to feel sympathy for them or even hate them on principal. god its such a mystery.
the games like 50/50 to me on how it tackles these themes because I actually like the garlemald arc in EW, I think it has a lot of horrific and powerful scenes depicting how self destructive fascist propaganda and beliefs are, but I also think it doesn't go far enough on some fronts. the garleans' xenophobia is most notably and obstacle to getting them to accept the contingent's help, which is what they're there to do,
but there's never an admission of harm from any garleans on the uuuuuuuuh massive amount of war crimes the nations around them are still suffering from they're just kind of like "we misjudged you...but you actually wanted to help us all along" like yeah thats great now can we get you all some deprogramming because you keep talking about returning to your prime and glory days and I think we need to unpack some stuff you really SHOULDNT return to. im not even really talking about EW proper but the patches where things are a bit more chilled out and people are recovering.
It feels like they wanted to have their critique of imperialism and also have things end with the beauty of human connection and reaching out and these things just don't mesh well because hey a lot of your modern day audience is not gonna like having to treat people yelling xenophobic things at the cast and your character with kid gloves after you showed them hours and hours of the awful things these people's beliefs have done. especially in the present day hoo boy.
#im kind of torn between 'no characters dont need to be 'punished' to be redeemed but also the characters just being so lenient with the#colonizers after we see far too many people being lenient if not supportive of the colonizers irl. well. it really blows afslkjfalkf and#yeah you can argue if they'd gone through with the garlemald expansion they would've had more time to go into this but the fact is that its#absent from what they did do and I especially think the patches when we go to garlemald and the EW role quests going 'hey maybe the#provinces can help us rebuild' as if they'd have any goddamn right to ask that just make me feel like they didnt stick the landing#seeing all the characters who have suffering time and time again bc of the garleans or seen the results of their actions having to clamp#their mouths shut every time someone said something xenophobic in EW isnt satisfying and it leaves so much unsaid!#also some people feel like the narrative didnt blame emet enough but ngl I think thats reductive even with his micromanaging scheming littl#ass and the intention of garlemald turning out a shitshow that doesnt make anyone else less complicit. most governments like this exaggerat#and lie and spread propaganda but I dont think most people here excuse the actions of a bigot because 'they were raised that way'#this is also my issue with gaius' writing. hes primarily upset that ascians were behind what he thought was his good old fashioned natural#conquering ideology :( and doesnt it suck so much he killed people for it. like yeah he seems pretty aware what he did was wrong but his#ideology remains bizarrely intact and unchallenged by the characters around him. no dude it wasnt just the ascians the system is a lot more#complex than that by this point aaaaaugh#final fantasy xiv#ffxiv#siren says#I hope people are nice to me about this I dont think I said anything particularly controversial to the Tumblr crowd (twt maybe but fuck em)#ig my main point with this post is that the game isnt perfect at writing this and also that look. I actually liked the main arc in EW and I#like quite a few garlean characters but I completely understand why others didnt like it or any garleans esp if they have their own persona#experiences with colonialism and I dont get to tell them they're invalid for that. too many people get judgmental about this understandably#upsetting topic and you just gotta accept that this is a big line for many people
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frecklenog · 3 months
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i want you all to understand this.
insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.
the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.
lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.
i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.
to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.
this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.
we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.
here’s a masterpost of how you can help.
EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically
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frogchiro · 7 months
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I hope I’m not bothering you with my ancient greek mythology stuff my little brain is going into overdrive👉👈
Just…sculptor/painter reader using the gladiators as her nude model…running your hands over their muscles and gushing how strong they are and how amazing your latest piece is going to come out!
You don’t even notice they’re getting hard as you run your fingers over their adonis belt commenting how they’re your new muse for your art
I almost (s)creamed the moment I saw this ask nonnie dear you're a genius ;;
Also I feel the need to mention this; please do keep in mind that this is only my silly au and most probably will have historical inaccuracies so if you're a true history/ancient greece/roman enjoyer, please go mild on me ;;
But back to the drill...You are so right??? Like...I imagine that reader would be a young, aspiring artist with a knack for painting. Maybe she doesn't come from a wealthy family so any true school for it is out of the question, your own parents only came along when you started selling your painting and doing commissions for nobles and it actually started to bring in money. Your road to success is still long but you're managing! Plus you're 'stupidly determined like your father' as your mother says so you try to stay positive!
The one problem you had was something you believed many artists suffered from; inspiration and models. Specifically human models. The human body and physique fascinated you from an early age, the moving muscles, facial expressions to different stimuli and so much more but...the problem were the models, or rather the lack thereof.
You could probably hire someone but the money spend on that would be way too much for your limited budget so the next best thing was the coliseum! It was a blessing in poor disguise, the gladiators trained there almost daily and luckily the head keeper of the arena begrudingly let you stay there and practice in exchange for a satchel of money but to be honest...the practice wasn't the only thing you longed for when visiting the coliseum almost daily, it was the gladiators.
They were huge, burly men in their prime, all of them looking like they were born with a sword or spear in hand and to grow up to become warrior and you'd be lying if you said that warmth didn't spread through your body and centered in your lower belly whenever these big, loud and boisterous men didn't call out for you and purred in dripping, low voices how pent up they are and what they wouldn't give for a pretty soft thing like you :((
The worst (or best) part was when you were practicing nude drawings which were equally fascinating and hard to draw, especially with all these men being so...shameless with it. You loved the human body, all artists do but still you were a young lady and watching all the gladiators walking around the barracks all naked and proud was...an experience to say the least and brought a pang of warmth between your thighs, especially when they were so happy to parade themselves like proud stallions in front of you :((
Strong, toned bodies glistening with sweat and water, their hardening cocks proudly on show whenever you run your soft hands over their toned torsos to study the way muscles move and twitch whenever you run your fingers over a sensitive spot, the most reactive being two of the many foreign gladiators, Johnny or like he insisted to be called 'Soap' and Kyle or 'Gaz', like he wants to be called.
These two are always purring low withing their chests to you as you look all over them, their backs, chests, stomachs, making you promise to do a special commission only for them but you're just nodding dumbly because you're too transfixed on the god-like bodies to draw :(
Another gladiator you're very fond of is a huge, blonde foreigner named Simon, or 'Ghost'. A formidable warrior, a veteran for sure, it looked like Ares himself send this one here to grace the people with a demigod of war. He was always incredibly patient with you, letting you roam your hands over his body and all the numerous scars decorating his skin. Once you saw Simon up close you immediately realized why people called him a demigod-he was beautiful. A strong and powerful man in his prime, his muscles jumping and twitching beneath his thick skin and a layer of fat, power and virility was literally radiating off of this man, and you insistently tried not to look at the long and thick cock hanging between his legs, twitching and pulsating with arousal whenever you marveled over his body and your fingers ran over his adonis belt <3
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lyneira · 1 year
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♡ when you almost pass out due to period cramps ♡
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-> how the genshin men would react when you nearly pass out from severe period cramps
based on this request!
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Initially panics
Itto, Xiao, Scaramouche, Gorou
When you're about to fall, he'll immediately be there to catch you. Though, when he sees your face twisted in pain from the cramps, he freaks out a little bit.
Look, he knows exactly what to do to treat an injury, but when it comes to cramps? Please enlighten him. The best he'll do is set you down somewhere comfortable and get you something hot to drink, but you'll need to tell him what else you'll need and then he'll retrieve it to the best of his ability.
And if you're missing things, he'll try to make up for it in his own way. Like, if you don't have a heating pad, he might suggest you sit on his lap so he could hug you and wrap his hands around your stomach. That way, he can at least provide you warmth himself. He'll leave a trail of kisses from the back of your head and down your neck, and would lean his lips towards your ear, whispering,
"I'm sorry you have to go through this, I'm here for you"
I think he'd be a bit frustrated that he didn't know how to help you right away, but after this experience and after you teach him, he won't forget.
Pampers you
Kazuha, Zhongli, Kaeya, Venti, Heizou
I think he would have already sensed that you were on your monthly cycle through your sudden cravings and overall fatigued mood, so he was sensitive to you. Yet, he wouldn't have known the severity of it until you were about to topple over. Of course, he'll catch you.
From then on, you'll be subject to his pampering. Anything that'll make you feel better, he'll do. Even after providing you with all the necessities (such as the painkillers, heating pad, etc.), he's going to get you your favorite foods (maybe also spoonfeed you, hehe), read you your favorite book, give you a massage, and so much more. Anything to make you smile again.
Scolds you a bit
Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Diluc, Kaveh, Cyno, Childe
After catching you, he'll scoop you up into his arms and carry you all the way to your room. As he brings you to your bed, I think he'll lightly scold you a bit for not taking your painkillers, but that's only because you made him so worried when you were about to pass out. He'll be relieved that he was there to catch you, at least.
But you were still worrying him in the state you were currently in. He absolutely hates seeing you in pain.
He'll also know what to get you and he knows how to take care of you in this situation. Even if he might have been busy or preoccupied with something prior to this, it'll have to wait because he's not going to leave your side until the pain has subsided.
He'll hold your hand at your bedside so that you know he's there for you. Grasping it firmly, he'd wish that there was a way to instantly take your pain away. After all, he would rather take your pain and make it his own than to see you suffer.
You wouldn't even be in this situation
Thoma, Ayato, Baizhu, Tighnari, Albedo
Honestly, I think it'd be hard to get into this situation if they're around. They'd pay close attention to your schedule and would always want to confirm whenever you were on your period so that they can have the things you needed already prepared.
They'd pay special attention to your well-being during then as well. If you show any signs of fatigue or pain at all, he's gonna tell you to take it easy and if you were doing any type of physically demanding task at the moment, he'll persuade you to stop and he'll take over if he has to. More importantly, he'll have painkillers and your favorite hot drink for you at the ready. Again, all that you needed, he already has.
They don't play around when it comes to your health!
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a/n: mmm, idk how I feel about this one. I feel like it was kinda similar throughout the whole thing? I just couldn't think of anything else, oof 😔
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
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burntoutdaydreamer · 1 month
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3 Steps to Improve Your Characters and Make Them Three-Dimensional
So I don’t have a process for creating/developing characters (to me the process is intuitive to the point where I wouldn’t even know how to explain it), but I do have a process for revising characters that just… fall flat, for whatever reason. 
I like to get to know my characters by throwing them into a bunch of different situations and seeing how they react, but sometimes that’s not enough. In these cases I need to go back to the drawing board and figure out how to make them not feel like a cardboard caricature of the role I need them to fill. Here’s the process I use, and it involves three key questions to understand what makes your character tick.
1) What is this character’s fundamental belief- either about the world or themself?
2) Where does this belief come from?
3) How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?
Alright, here’s what the process looks like in action. 
Let’s say I have a character I need to flesh out for my story.
Character A is a middle aged coffee shop owner and the protagonist of her story. The central conflict of the story revolves around trying to save the family run coffee shop she inherited from her father when he passed away, which has recently fallen on hard times.
What is this character's fundamental belief?
Character A believes that the world is an inherently good and fair place. She believes that good is always rewarded and bad is always punished, even if the timing isn't always perfect. As such, she strives to live a virtuous life, putting as much good into the world as she possibly can. While she understands that even good people can face hard times, she believes that in the long term, if things don't work out, it'll be because she didn't put in the work needed to turn things around.
Where does this belief come from?
Character A grew up in a solidly middle class household with good parents that treated her well- rewarding her for good work, and fairly punishing her for misdeeds. Her parents gave her everything she needed, but also expected her to work hard for the things she wanted. She also had the experience of watching her father build a successful business through hard work and by building strong connections with the people in town. If we want to push this further, we could also say that this belief was reaffirmed by watching her brother ruin his own life, squandering all his money and goodwill with those around him on failed get-rich-quick-schemes and outright scams that landed him in jail.
How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?
Let's say that Character A recently hired a barista who seems perfect for the job. Strapped for help, she gets him started right away before getting the results of his background check. When the results come in, she finds out that he is on probation and was recently released from jail for a violent crime. Shocked, she fires him. Believing that people who end up in jail always deserve it, she can't see past her initial prejudices. As a result, her coffee shop suffers from the loss of her new star barista.
Some time goes on, and Character A encounters the barista again, and learns more about the circumstances that landed him in jail (maybe he was falsely convicted, maybe he was battling psychosis, maybe the violent act was done to prevent a loved one- anything that makes her question her initial assumptions). He then confesses that he is struggling to provide for himself and his family because no one will hire him because of his criminal record. Character A comes to realize that her belief isn't completely true, and that the world isn't entirely fair. Though it takes a lot of inner work to do so, including coming to terms with her privilege, she eventually accepts this, and revises her beliefs. She decides that even though the world isn't fair, people have the responsibility to make it fair.
She decides to re-hire the barista she fired. After doing everything she can to make things right with him, she proposes an idea she wants his help with. Together, they transform her family business into a joint coffee shop and community rehabilitation center. In addition to selling coffee, they also launch a program to provide resources to recently incarcerated individuals looking to reenter society. They'll host weekly events on job interview coaching, alcoholics anonymous, motivational speeches, group therapy, opportunities to connect with open-minded employers, and more. Their promotion of this new program enables them to secure funding from local patrons and public grants, and customers are willing to pay for more expensive coffee with the knowledge that that money will be put to good use.
Additionally, if we want to go with the brother in jail backstory, we could have this ending be an opportunity for her to reconnect with him and maybe even repair their relationship as she gets to see him in a new light.
Main Takeaways
And there you have it!
You can use this process on any character- protagonist, antagonist, side character, etc. By grounding your character's motivations and development in their beliefs, you can easily introduce depth and internal conflict while keeping everything connected to the themes and plot driving your story.
Depending on your character's role or your story's plot, the belief can be wide reaching and complex (such as a philosophy or ideology), or specific and personal (such as having to do with their self-esteem). Either way, it should always be tied to their personal experiences or observations. This doesn't necessarily mean a tragic backstory. It could be, but I encourage you not to make this your default way of creating character depth. A mundane but grounded and sincere motivation will always be more compelling than cheap, dark shock factor.
Generally, protagonists with happy endings and villains with successful redemption arcs are capable of moving past their beliefs, while tragic heroes and antagonists aren't, and this failure is usually the source of their downfall. Keep in mind that even if characters do move past their old beliefs, it will always be a difficult thing to do. It will require them to confront their own mistakes, biases, and emotional wounds, and require both internal and external work in order to fix whatever their old beliefs have damaged.
Hopefully this guide will help you approach your characters from a different perspective. Feel free to share any insights.
Happy writing y'all!
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wintersera · 8 months
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forever mine || alpha!karina x omega!reader
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notes: AGAIN sorry for the delay anon but here’s the request!! fun fact i wrote this while listening to the super mario galaxy ost 😭
cw: OMEGAVERSE, alpha karina, omega reader (obvs), maybe rina is a little possessive, use of toys, biting, scratching, g!p rina, creampie, breeding kink
wc 2.2k
your alpha girlfriend was so sweet and caring, the best alpha you could ever wish for. unlike other alphas, she was never too aggressive with you, rather, she was too careful with you- biologically she should’ve been treating you like you were her toy for breeding, but i guess not. nonetheless she was still a great alpha girlfriend.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK
first of september- the first ever day since you’ve forgotten to buy your heat suppressants since you started dating jimin. your stomach drops as your pheromones begin to waft around your workplace filled with pure blooded alphas.
shit shit shit i’m dead, oh i’m screwed what do i do? ohhh god what do i do?
it was sorta stupid. yeah- an undercover omega in a job filled to the brim with hardworking alphas. you were doing a great job of convincing everyone that you were just a simple beta. that’s how you landed your job in the first place, but now because of this one stupid mistake, you were bound to lose your job.
“guys…” head manager, a very big alpha man in your words, spoke up. his head tilting and nostrils flaring as he’s looking around the office, confusion on his sharp features “…are you smelling that?” with the attention drawn on your floral scent, you begin to panic as the other alphas begin sniffing around too.
ough,, how do you get outta this situation fast “i think i’ll head out early guys. whoever has their heat is driving me insane it might trigger my rut” how bad of a lie was that. it didn’t matter anyways, dashing out the room with your blazer and bag in, hand rummaging around your trouser pockets as soon as you make it out of the building.
“jesus christ jimin pick up please, please” walking, no- sprinting to the direction of your apartment. you knew your heat was gonna hit you badly. you’ve been taking suppressants for years so having a full blown pheromone disaster for the first time in years was going to be crazy. people were looking at you like you were crazy, but you’d rather have many people look at you weird than have your scent imprinted on the damn streets.
“what’s up?” thank the lord, she answered her phone just in time.
fumbling for your keys trying to shove it into the door lock, you sigh with a heavy breath “uh,, um jimin i’m going into heat- i already feel funny” unlocking the door, you fling yourself into the apartment, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.
“what do you mean going into heat? did you not,,, oh well shit okay give me a few minutes” hanging up the call.
not so much to your surprise, slick was coating your cunt like crazy. to the point where it started to go through your trousers and down your legs. the need you had for your girlfriend was so unbearable.
in a haze, you wobbled to your shared bedroom and grabbed one of her used shirts. her clothes smelt so good, the lingering scent dripping from her clothes was enough to make you keel over and plop onto the bed. you felt yourself getting slicker, your needy cunt needing your alpha to come over and fuck you silly was growing stronger each second she wasn’t in the room with you.
taking matters into your own hands because you couldn’t wait any longer, the feeling of your heat coiling in your stomach was too much. your brain was giving into your biological urges and you needed to get off now or you’d suffer. grabbing a pile of jimin's clothes and making somewhat of a nest on the bed, you surround yourself with the scent of freshly ground coffee. quickly taking off every single piece of clothing, getting right back up to open the box of toys you kept just in case a moment like this ever happened- searching for anything, any toy, that could satisfy you while you wait for your alpha.
whereas jimin on the other hand was worried sick. throughout your two year relationship with her she’d never seen you in a proper heat. like yeah, the heat suppressants and scent blockers helped quite a lot so you were never heavily affected by the symptoms. of course omegas would usually never get this horrible desire to mate this early into their heat, but unfortunately for you, you did have this raging urge to mate so early.
you weren’t so very conscious, you were starting to feel groggy, a feverish high temperature when you touch your head began to appear. this heat was kicking you in the ass and you couldn’t take it anymore- taking the vibrator in your hands and placing it on the highest setting, your hands make there way all the way down to your throbbing clit “a-ah, hnnng jimin come quick…”
so so desperate for her, you pick up your phone hoping that she would answer your calls “please- please pick up jimin”
“i’m almost home baby, do you need something or…”
“just hurry up i’m begging you to come home pleaseee” and who was she to deny your request. stepping on the gas faster knowing that her precious little omega was in need of her alphas presence. she could here your desperation deep within your voice.
“don’t worry i’m about to park soon, just wait for me okay” jimin, knowing how she acted during your very suppressed heats, believed that she could never submit to her instincts since she has never done so when it came to you. that quickly changed as she opened the door, the scent of roses attacking her as she stepped inside. it was a thick scent, it stuck to everywhere and it didn't help that you couldn’t open the windows in time, now your walls were coated in this thick floral scent.
it took jimin a lot of willpower not to give into her urges right there. she felt her rut kicking in and it made her growl in discomfort. never feeling this way in a while, because she took rut suppressants since the two of you started dating, she started growing hazy much like you did. she was a pure blooded alpha which didn’t help either, the intensity of your heat did rounds on her and she had strongest urge to mark you up.
you could hear her footsteps grow louder and louder, her low growls could be heard with the door still shut. quite impressive. she didn’t even say anything when entering, taking off her work clothes only leaving just her boxers on, the line of her hard cock showing through made you whimper out loud. your slick was practically drooling out from your pussy.
in her eyes you were nothing more than a snack to be devoured. her red eyes peered down at you like you were some sort of prey, and you must admit that pure blooded alpha jimin was really arousing to watch. pheromones in the room were strong as hell, your thick sweet floral scent mixing with jimin’s freshly scented coffee smell made a delicious combination. the scent alone driving you two mad.
she went to sit on the bed, still peering at you meek little body. with hunter like eyes she stared you down and licked her lips, “sit up omega” obeying your alpha like the good little omega you are, you sit up from the nest of clothes.
she could hear little puffs of air pour out of your lips, stifling a chuckle as she watches you struggle to sit up straight and look at her straight in the eye. hooking you up with ease, jimin had your body pressed up against hers, sliding one of her hands in between your thighs opening them up with a strong grip “you look so needy for me” a second goes by and she’s shoving you back into the pillow.
“fuck” jimin whispered “how do you smell so good” nuzzling into the crook of your neck, “you smell so tempting, fuck, i can’t-“ she gave your thighs a firm squeeze, exhaling shakily “you need to take me right now, i can’t take it anymore. i need to feel your tight cunt around my cock” her voice low and coarse. in a flash she slipped her cock into your dripping heat, mewls threatening to escape your mouth.
if you weren’t too dazed and horny you would’ve been saying how you’ve waited for this exact moment. jimin didn’t spend anytime fucking around with foreplay, she went straight into pounding your slicked up hole with no mercy. everything she did set your body ablaze, her hands were touching every single inch on your body and it felt so fucking good.
like a ravenous animal she attacked your neck, licking, marking, biting your throat all whilst groaning. her animalistic mind wanting to show that you’re her omega and nobody else’s and by that she had to litter you with marks of any kind, purposely rubbing her scent to mark you as her omega.
every thrust made your back arch slightly off the bed, hitting all the spots you never knew could feel good because of how nice she usually fucked you. you felt how fast and precise her movement was, and it was heavenly.
as your back arched closer to hers, she shifted even more closer to you, practically pinning you onto the bed by hooking both of your legs above her broad shoulders. hitting even deeper then she previously did before, you felt the tip of her cock graze your cervix “mmfh, fuck, fuck- my baby feels so fucking good” saying all that while she’s harshly sinking her teeth into your shoulders.
“s’too much,, ah- jimin, g-good” her urges began to flare up, the only thing on her mind was to mark you up for good. like she was oh so desperate to keep you as hers.
pulling her cock out, in between breaths she instructs you “turn around. y/n turn over for me.. need to- need to fill you up“ taking your legs of her shoulders and flipping you over with ease, again with her predatory gaze, she stares right at your exposed ass in which tempted her to completely destroy you until you can’t stand anymore, leaving you in a state of vulnerability so that she can take care of you.
her alpha instincts were indeed controlling her every movement, the loving and caring alpha you knew was gone. all was left was a dominating alpha who wanted to fuck you till you were filled up with her cum, even if that means you’ll bear her pups.
returning back into your needy cunt, she moans even louder, louder than you’d ever heard. “omega- omega fuck, i’ll mark you. you’re mine, mine only. mine,,, shit you’re mine forever” relentlessly pushing your head into the pillows, her thrusts became frantic and desperate- her movement erratic and messy, it made you love her even more. her alpha side was making you wetter and wetter, bedsheets were covered with your slick.
your moans were insanely unholy. you were screaming and clawing onto whatever you could grab hold onto. her dick growing larger than before and that's when the both of you knew that she was about to knot into you. grabbing her arm for moral support, you dig your nails harshly into them leaving a few minor scars.
right now you looked so fucked out. you were crying, drooling everywhere all while you were screaming out her name. jimin took her time to place a generous amount of bites and hickeys all over your back too. you know… for extra measures of course.
“aah fuck, pleasepleaseplease alpha cum- cum in me” you sobbed out.
“bout to- gonna,, augh fuck cumming” one final harsh thrust into your cunt and her knot swelled as she spilled every ounce of cum into your hole. your cunt clamping down on her as well, essentially locking the two of you. whilst she knotted into you, she swiftly leaned to the back of your neck and inserted her teeth. it hurt a lot, the feeling of her sharp canines sent your nerves on fire, but only a second later and it felt almost orgasmic.
finally she had marked you, but now you were stuck like this for a while. her knot being large enough to just be stuck in this position. both of you were lowkey back into consciousness, the alpha side of her dying down a little bit and the subby omega side of you dissipating.
after a couple of minutes of basking in your orgasm, her knot went down eventually. it was just enough so that you could move slightly which inevitably caused her semen to seep out of your cunt.
“aaah~ can’t… believe.. i… marked.. you..” catching her breath through each word she managed to muster up “that means you’re mine.. forever, right?”
aww big dom alpha jimin was gone, but your cute puppy of a girlfriend was back. you turn around with her cock still in you and see her smiling right at you, her big puppy eyes beaming with glee.
“yeah.. forever”
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cy-cyborg · 2 months
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Disability Tropes: The disabling change of heart
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When a character in a story becomes disabled, they'll sometimes experience a trope that I like to call "the disabling change of heart". This is when the character goes through a massive change in their outlook, their personality, their goals or even roll in the story, specifically because they became (or are about to become) physically disabled. Sometimes, this will be in relatively small ways: the happy-go-lucky comedic relief character might become bitter, angry and jaded after getting into an accident that caused a spinal injury, or the severally depressed and nihilistic character might suddenly start acting more cheerful and hopeful, stating that loosing their leg has "put things into perspective and showed them what really matters". In other cases though, the impact is much larger, the heroic character you've been hearing about looses an arm thanks to the main character's actions, causing them to become consumed with anger and self-loathing which they take out on everyone else, eventually becoming an antagonist as they seek revenge for what the main character did to them. The morally grey or even villainous character is injured by their own scheme, giving themselves a permanent disability in the process, which prompts a change of heart and leads them to turn their lives around and become better people, maybe even deciding to team up with the heroes.
Now, having a character go through a personality and goal change due to a major life event, such as becoming physically disabled, isn't inherently bad. A lot of writers are told to tie major shifts in your character's development to major life events, because realistically, something like becoming newly disabled will at least impact how you view the world around you. I very frequently talk about how if I didn't loose my legs, I would have become a vastly different person, but the issues with this trope depends on how it's used and the reasons behind these developments, and whether or not the change suits the character in question.
Before we get into things, I would like to specify that in this post, I'm only going to be talking about how this trope is used with physical disabilities and other easily visible forms of disability. It does show up with characters who develop disabilities under the mentally ill and neurodivergent umbrellas, and is actually a bit more common than what I'm talking about today, but the specific ways its utilised are so different that it's more or less a separate trope, and one that deserves much more attention than I could give it here as this is already going to be a pretty long post. So for today, I'm keeping to it's use with physical and visible disabilities, and we'll talk about how this trope is used with neurodivergence and mental illness another day.
The main thing you need to be mindful of is ensuring that you, as an author, are not including your ingrained biases about disability into the reasoning behind the change. Let's look at one of the examples from before, an evil character who, after loosing their arm (because it's almost always loosing an arm for some reason) becomes a villain and wants revenge against the main character. In a story like this example, the character who became an amputee often views this new disability as something that has ruined their life. It's something that has caused them to suffer, and they want to make the main character (or whoever has "wronged" them) suffer like they did. Stories like this example portray disability as something that is not just horrible, but life-destroying, especially with villains who become all-consumed by the misery this disability has brought them. Many stories that utilise this version of the trope also often perpetuate the idea that if you become disabled, you'll have to give up all the things you love and your goals, even when this wouldn't necessarily be true for the character in question.
Let's say your character was a knight, and the main character cut off their arm in a training accident. obviously you can't be a knight with only one arm because you can't fight anymore, so they left their order. Now this character has become a villain and has found power that "makes up" for their disability, perhaps magic or some other force that doesn't exist in the real world, and are back to get revenge on the character for ruining their lives. Here's the thing though, the loss of a limb, or at least, the loss of an arm specifically, often isn't the career ender people think it is, even back then. In fact, there are many historical records of real amputees continuing to serve as knights and other similar military roles after loosing an arm or at the very least, continuing to fight in other ways. One such example was Götz of the Iron Hand, a mercenary knight who lost his arm to a cannon. Götz had fought as part of the Roman empire's military in 1498, but shortly after left to form his own mercenary company. He lost his hand in 1504 and continued his career as a mercenary with the help of an iron prosthetic capable of holding his sword and the reigns of his horse, among many other things such as writing, for another 40 years. Götz wasn't unique in this though, several suits of armour from the same time period have been found with integrated prosthetic hands, though the names of their owners are unknown. There was also Oruç Reis (aka Aruj Barbarossa), A privateer admiral who served the Ottoman Empire in and around the Mediterranean who lost his left hand - earning him one of many nicknames: Silver-Hand, thanks to the colour of his prosthetic. Oruç, like Götz, continued his career for several more years until he was eventually killed in 1518.
My point in bringing this up, is to highlight how important it is to double check that the reason your character's whole motivation for turning to villainy, isn't just based on your ideas about what a disabled person can or can not do. Actually double check it, research it, especially if it's important for your plot.
Even in the cases where the disability in question actually would stop someone from being able to do something, the incorrect assumptions can still occur and cause issues in different ways. For example, a character in a more modern setting who looses their arm due to an accident the main character was responsible for while serving in the military would be discharged, ruining the character's plan to become a general some day. This absolutely would be devastating for a character like that, and they realistically could struggle to adjust, both in terms of getting used to their disability and finding new goals for their life. They may well feel anger at the main character, however, if you are portraying just living with a disability, in the case of this example, living with an amputation as inherently "suffering" for no other reason than they are disabled, it is still perpetuating those really negative ideas about disability. I've said this a few times in other posts, but villains who are evil or even just antagonists purely because they're disabled or are trying to avoid becoming disabled is a trope all its own and one that is best avoided if you yourself aren't disabled, as even outside of spreading these negative ideas about life with a disability, it's just an overdone and overused trope.
But what about when this trope goes in the other direction? when you have an antagonistic or even just morally grey character who becomes disabled and this is the catalyst that turns them into a good guy?
For the longest time, I knew I usually disliked this version of the trope too, but I couldn't put my finger on why. With disability being the reason someone became a villain, the underlying reason it's there is often able to be boiled down to "I, the writer, think being disabled would be terrible and life like that is inherently suffering, so this character is angry about it," which is obviously an issue (the "inherently suffering" bit, not the anger). However, when a character becomes good due to becoming disabled, the reasoning is usually more along the lines of, "this is a big change in a character's life that has caused them to reconsider and revaluate things" (or at least, that's what I thought). This isn't bad, nor is it necessarily unrealistic. Hell, as I already said, I do consider my disability to be a catalyst that made me into who I am today. I also know plenty of people who, after becoming disabled later in life, did have a big change in how they viewed themselves and the world, and who consider themselves better people since becoming disabled. It's far, far from a universal experience, mind you, but it does happen. So why did this version of the trope still not sit right with me?
Well, I think there's a few reasons for it. The first being that there's a tendency for non-disabled people to think real disabled people are just incapable of evil deeds, both in the sense that they aren't physically capable of doing them (which is bad and not even always true for the reasons we already discussed), but also in the sense that there's this idea that disabled people are, for some reason, inherently more "good" and "innocent" - As if breaking your back or loosing a limb causes all evil and impure thoughts to be purged from the body. This is a result of many folks viewing disabled people as child-like, and thus attributing child-like traits (such as innocence) to them, even subconsciously. This is an incredibly common issue and something disability rights organisations are constantly pushing back against, as this mentality can cause a lot of unnecessary barriers for us. With how often I and many other disabled people are subjected to infantilization, I would be honestly shocked if it wasn't at least partially responsible for people thinking becoming disabled is a good reason to kick off a redemption arc.
This infantilization isn't unique to physically disabled people by the way, in fact it's way, way, more commonly directed at people with intellectual and developmental disabilities - or at least, people are more open about it, but as I already mentioned, how that is reflected in tropes like The Disabling Change of Heart is vastly different and deserves a post of it's own.
That's mostly just speculation on my part though, since that infantilising mindset does show up a lot in media, but not usually as part of this trope specifically.
However, it's not the only reason I wasn't a fan of it. When the disabling change of heart is used to fuel redemption arcs, I think, once again, that the disability itself being credited with causing the change directly is another factor. When this happens, it's usually because "it put things into perspective for me and showed me what really mattered."
This sounds better than our previous example on the surface, but stories that use this logic are often still portraying disability as an inherently bad and tragic thing, something so bad, in fact, that it makes all the other (legitimate) issues they thought were massive before seem so small by comparison. This is a type of inspiration porn: content made to make non-disabled people feel inspired or just better about their own situation. It's the mentality of "well my life is bad, but it could be worse, at least I'm not disabled like that!"
In a fictional story, this might look like an athlete character who dreamed of making it big so they could be famous and get out of poverty. They were a dick to anyone who got in their way but only because they were worried about not being able to make rent if they don't constantly win. One day though, they overworked themselves and got into a car accident on the way home because they were too tired, and now they're in a wheelchair and can no longer walk, which is (supposedly) absolutely tragic and way worse than anything else they were already going through. But they end up becoming a better person because it has put things into perspective for them. Yeah they were struggling to make ends meet, but at least they weren't disabled! Now that they are, they know they shouldn't have cared so much, because money doesn't matter when compared to not being able to walk, right?
As well as portraying disability in a negative light, these kinds of stories dismiss and diminish the other struggles or challenges the character is experiencing, placing the status of "not disabled" above all else.
There's also the fact that, when a lot of real people say their disabilities had positive impacts on their lives, they don't usually mean the disability itself is directly responsible for the change. There's exceptions of course but for myself personally, and most of the people I know who say they are better people because of/since becoming disabled, the disability has been more of a neutral catalyst than the actual cause of positive change. Meaning, it opened the door to allow those changes to happen, but it wasn't the direct cause. For me personally, becoming physically disabled at a young age didn't make me a nice person like people expect, I was still a little judgemental asshole for a lot of my childhood. However, because I was disabled, I had to travel a lot, initially because I needed medical treatment that my local hospital wasn't equip to provide, and later, because I started competing in disability sports. because of both of those things, I met people I never would have otherwise who made me reconsider what I'd been taught on a wide range of subjects, and made me question where those beliefs had come from in the first place. When I say my disability played a part in who I became, it wasn't because my disability itself change me, but it helped me meet people who were positive influences on me and my life. but when creatives make characters who experience arcs like this, they ignore this, again, defaulting to the "this was a bad thing that just put all my other problems into perspective" reasoning.
Some iterations of this trope also use disability as a kind of "karmic punishment" where the disability is portrayed as a rightfully deserved punishment for an evil character's deeds - usually something relating to the disability they acquired but not always. An example might look like an evil tyrant who punishes the rebels they captured by cutting off their hands. Eventually, this catches up with him, maybe the friend or a child of one of the rebels is able to capture the tyrant and cuts his hands off as payback so that he gets a taste of his own medicine, a taste of the suffering he imposed on others. Now facing at least one of the same realities of the people he subjugated, he realises the error of his ways. With some pressure from the main characters, he has a change of heart and surrenders himself, steps down to let someone else take his place, or perhaps he decides to start changing policies to be more in-line with these new morals until some other character usurps him, becoming an even bigger threat than the previous former tyrant.
Once again, stories that use a disability like this are still portraying the disability as an overall inherently bad thing, but there's the added layer at play in this example. The thing is, there are a lot of people in real-life who actually believe disability is a punishment from God. I remember one time when I was over in the US, an older lady came and sat down on the seat beside me on the bus and started asking me about my disability and specifically, how I became disabled. This isn't an unusual interaction, it happens fairly regularly whenever I use public transport, but on this particular day, the conversation suddenly shifted when I told her I became disabled when I was very young. This woman, despite the bus-driver's best efforts to get her to stop, ended up lecturing me for an hour and a half (during which time I couldn't move due to how my wheelchair was held in place) about how my disability was punishment from God for my parent's sins. She then tried to convince me to attend her church, claiming they would be able to heal me. And the thing is, this isn't an uncommon experience.
A lot of disabled people are targeted by cults using this same method: they'll convince people their disabilities are a punishment, make them believe they deserved it, that they just weren't good enough, but don't worry, if you repent and come to our specific church we can heal you. There was even a case in Australia recently that uncovered a cult called Universal Medicine, who taught that disabled people were reincarnations of evil people, and that being disabled in this life was their punishment, as well as that parents who have disabled children were being punished for other sinful behaviours. They were found to be operating a disability care service named Fabic that was being paid for by the NDIS, a subsection of the Australian government funded healthcare system that specifically aids disabled Australians by paying for and subsidising treatments, technologies (such as mobility aids) and other services relating to their disability. Fabic was found to be stealing excessive amounts of funding from their disabled clients under the guise of therapies and carer services, but was not actually helping their clients at all. Whether it's just taking advantage of them to get their money, or actually using this logic as a justification to mistreat them, this mentality of "disability is a punishment" actually gets real disabled people hurt or worse, and so seeing it come up in media, even if there is no ill-intent, can be very distressing and uncomfortable for disabled audiences.
So with all this being said, is the disabling change of heart a trope you should avoid in all it's forms and versions? No, but it does need to be handled with extreme care. I do think it should be avoided as a reason for a character becoming evil for the most part. If that really can't be avoided in your story though, at the very least, ensure that you foreshadow the change. Your happy little ray of sunshine, embodiment of sweetness and innocence type character probably isn't going to turn murderous and want revenge for an accident for example. A character who is likely to be driven to that kind of extreme of wanting revenge for their disability, so much so that they become a villain, probably already had at least a few traits that would predispose them to that line of thinking already, before becoming disabled. As for when it goes in the other direction, and you have a character becoming a good guy, avoid using the reasoning that "the disability put things into perspective for me". Instead, if you must use this version of the trope, use the character's new disability as the reason they encountered other people and situations that challenged their views, things they wouldn't have encountered otherwise. No matter the reason though, be very careful to avoid inspiration porn, and as always, try to find a sensitivity reader to give your story a once-over, just to make sure something didn't slip under your radar.
[Thumbnail ID: An illustrated image showing the same elf character twice. The picture of her on the left shows her laughing evilly, two tiny horns protruding through her brown hair. She is wearing a black dress and red shoes. On the right shows her in a yellow dress, sitting in a bright pink wheelchair with her head held eye and her eyes closed. The horns have been replaced with a glowing halo. In the centre is text that reads: "Disability Tropes: The disabling change of heart." /End ID]
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mountainsandmayhem · 3 months
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Stay Still, Little Dove
Joel Miller x Female!Reader
18+
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Series Masterlist
Summary: Joel takes matters into his own hands to deal with your newly insatiable sex drive with a little help from a u shaped friend. TW: softdom!Joel, female orgasms (like a lot of them), oral (fem!rec), this is all about her A/N: THANK YOU for all the comments, likes and reblogs on my last story! I fully believe only 1 or 2 people will read these and I'm just floored by the response so far. I wish I could write without a plot, but I added some backstory about these two. Word Count: 4.3k
Ellie has always been a tornado in your life. Her biological mom was your childhood best friend. She had her demons, so you can’t say you were surprised when during her weekend trip to visit you with her new baby she disappeared, leaving you with little Ellie. 
Overnight, you went from a 22-year-old young woman starting your third year of your degree to a 22-year-old adoptive single mom pushing through your third year of college. 
Your parents were helpful, driving four hours from the small town you grew up in every weekend so you could work or do homework. They offered to take Ellie for a while or help you find people to adopt her, but that little tornado of a girl was your priority and you weren’t going to abandon her like her mother. 
She broke her arm at 2 on her big wheel, and at 3 she needed 10 stitches across her eyebrow from when she tried to leap from the kitchen table to the granite island. Safe to say the granite won as she still bears that scar today. At 4, she bolted up the stairs to the high dive and jumped off without an ounce of fear. Thank god she was already a strong swimmer.
She seemed to crave chaos, so when she befriended the girl with wildly curly hair on her first day of school you just shook your head, predictable little tornado. 
Thankfully Sarah Miller was a sweet and kind-hearted girl, maybe even a little shy. It also helped that Sarah’s young dad, who didn’t wear a wedding ring, resembled a Greek god. Tall and broad with tanned skin, he owned some sort of contracting business based on the truck he’d do school pick up and drop off in. When the girls introduced you two, he flashed you a small smile, revealing that goddamn dimple. 
You’re both pretty sure the girls played a hand in the two of you eventually getting together, granted they both conveniently don’t remember playing tiny matchmakers. They’d ask for sleepovers and playdates almost daily, or sign you both up to the same shift at school events.
“Mommy, I swear on the moon that the teacher picked!” Ellie said when you had the coat check station at the Valentine's Day dance. “Buuuut you might want to put on lipstick.” 
It’s been a little over 14 years since then and he still sets your blood on fire with that dimple. 
Both of you approached this new empty nest phase apprehensively, but it turns out that having the house to yourself (with no risk of one of the girls walking in) opened a whole new set of rather kinky doors. Not that you were necessarily vanilla before, but while they lived there you didn’t have ropes and paddles hanging on your bedroom wall, or the hooks on your four-poster bed.
You also never would have been how you are now, bathroom door wide open in only the trousers you planned to wear to work. 
“Not that I’m complainin’ sweetheart. But why are you topless?” Joel asks on his way to the kitchen. 
“It’s too damn hot in here.” You grumble, getting out your skincare and makeup. 
Joel shook his head to himself as he walked to the kitchen. He knew better than to bring up that it wasn’t the temperature, it was you and your recent perimenopause diagnosis. He hated to see you suffering, but your newly insatiable libido gave him an idea. 
As you get ready, Joel leans against the bathroom door frame drinking coffee, observing you through the mirror. 
You see him most days in his typical work attire - dark jeans, a t-shirt with his company logo, and a flannel or denim button-up. But it will never get old to you. You almost find him sexier in this than in a suit. Especially when he has the cuffs rolled like he does today. 
“Little Dove?” His voice is deep and scratchy. 
A slight blush paints your cheeks, knowing that it’s going to be one of those days. 
“Yes, sir?” 
He slowly walks towards you as you lean into the mirror to blink on some mascara. He stops just a hair away from you, not touching you but close. Close enough for you to feel the heat coming off of him. He waits until you’ve put the mascara wand away, and uses his free hand to trace a line slowly down your spine. 
A shiver runs through you, and you let out a small moan. Partly from the feeling of him, but mostly at the reprieve from the hot flash you’re experiencing. 
“How many orgasms do you think I could give you before you beg me to stop?” He kisses the top of your left shoulder, watching your eyes widen slightly in the mirror. 
Goosebumps spread across your body. If he wants to play, you’ll make it difficult for him. “Well, after the little kidnapping the other night you gave in after three.” 
“This is about you giving up and not me giving in,” His free hand continues a light trail along your bare back. 
“And didn’t you say you felt like you had done an intense Pilates workout the next day?” He adds teasingly.
You were hoping he’d forgotten about how you groaned as you lowered yourself into the bathtub to soak your sore muscles. Even though your hormones seemed to think you were a teenager again, your body took a little longer to recover. Joel cared for you in a way that only he could; making dinner, wrapping you in your beloved heated blanket, and gently massaging your hips and legs. 
You don’t want to give up this easily so you scoff and say, “Please, old man. You’d get tired before I’d quit.” 
The next two things happen so quickly that it’s over before the excited squeal leaves your lips. He spins you to face him and lifts you onto the countertop, caging you between his arms, his hands gripping the vanity on either side of you.  
“Now now, Little Dove. I’d be careful who you call old.” His recently playful tone is back to a deep gravel-like command that settles right between your thighs. 
“You will refer to me as sir in these moments and nothing else. Do you understand?”
You nod eagerly sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, fuck you love him like this. 
He kisses down your neck towards your right breast. Pausing he adds, “Words, Little Dove,” before gently dragging your right nipple through his teeth. 
You let out a desperate moan arching your back into the pain, “Yes, sir.” 
Joel quickly steps back, taking his coffee cup with him. “Be a good girl today.” 
+++++
You spend your workday trying not to think about Joel. You immerse yourself in your to-do list and your team gets a few projects done early and sent off for approval. You’ve almost forgotten about the morning events when you hear your phone buzz. 
Joel: When I get home I want you in that little black lacy thing, Little Dove. I’m bringing home dinner. 
You reply with a funny ‘yes, sir’ gif.
Joel: Oh, my sweet Little Dove. I’m almost starting to think you like it when I punish you. 
You: Do your worst, I won’t tap out.
Joel: Tell me what you’re going to be doing when I get home.
You find a photo of you wearing the aforementioned ‘little black lacy thing’ and attach it to your message that says, “Wearing this, sir.” 
Joel: Be kneeling beside the couch when I get home. 
You: Yes, sir. 
++++
The rest of your day goes by tortuously slowly, yet the drive home seemed suspiciously fast. You laugh to yourself picturing a speeding ticket in the mail and Joel’s reaction when you tell him he has to pay it since it’s his fault. Maybe you’ll ask him when he’s in a sir mood.
You hop in the shower, shave and touch up your makeup before clipping and clasping yourself into the outfit Joel loves so much. As you step back to admire yourself in the full-length mirror you realize certain squishy parts of your body don’t look great in this.
Focus on the positive, you remind yourself. 
The deep v-halter of the one-piece garment accentuates your breasts, you spin to take in the low cut back and high cut cheeky bottom that highlights the globes of your ass. 
The familiar sounds of Joel’s truck pulling up the driveway sends a rush of nervous and excited butterflies through your stomach. You hurry to the sitting room, grab a throw pillow from the couch and kneel. 
Your eyes follow as Joel heads to the kitchen, holding a bag from your favourite sushi restaurant.  He places it on the island before looking up at you with dark eyes
“Look at the ground and put your hands on your lap.” He commands. 
You can’t stop your eyes from rolling as you look down and do as he says. 
“Little Dove, don’t roll your eyes at me.” His voice deepens with every word, instantly setting your core on fire. 
He’s silent for a moment and you can feel his eyes on you. “From now on when I say to kneel, this is how you’ll be. Understand?” 
You squeeze your thighs a little tighter, breathing starting to shallow at the sound of his voice as he slips deeper into sir mode. 
You reply with a breathy, “Yes sir. Sorry.” 
Joel walks over and pets your head. “You look stunning like this.” He whispers, before turning and leaving you alone. 
His words feel like warm honey being drizzled down your spine. No one makes you feel as desired as Joel and immediately your earlier body insecurities vanish. You can hear him moving things around the bedroom before he walks back to the kitchen but you don’t dare look up. You’re a good girl, Joel doesn’t like brats, and right now all that matters is pleasing him. 
Joel sets up dinner, arranges the sushi on plates, opens the wine and lights a candle before sitting at the table, legs spread, facing you. 
“Crawl to me, Little Dove.” His deep voice washes over you. Almost as if it puts you in a trance. You know your knees are going to regret this in the morning, but you’re so turned on that you don’t hesitate to crawl across the area rug and then onto the hardwood flooring Joel installed himself.
Stopping between his bare legs, his strong hand cradles your chin and tilts it up, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and tight black boxers. But it’s the sleek black remote control vibrator in his other hand that steals your attention.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He says with a soft moan, gently stroking your cheek. “Go put this in, and then come back and have dinner with me.”
He helps you to your feet and hands you the vibrator. He turns you towards the half bath off the kitchen and pats your bum gently while you walk away. 
Joel has laid out everything you might need on the counter. After cleaning the toy, you push the thin fabric of your lingerie aside and slide it inside yourself. You can already feel pressure on that little spongy part inside you that Joel loves to tease. As you wash your hands you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. 
I can do this, you say to yourself. 
As soon as you step out of the bathroom and make eye contact with Joel the toy comes to life. Your false confidence from a few seconds ago buckles along with your knees as you brace yourself on the door frame and let out a breathy gasp. 
“I want you to keep count and thank me for each one, Little Dove. Understand?” 
“Y-yes, sir,” you moan, crossing your legs and squeezing your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact. 
The vibration stops, you take a few deep breaths before standing up tall and walking over to the table. Always the gentleman, he pulls out your chair and kisses the top of your head before taking his seat. 
“Eat while we go over some ground rules, Little Dove.” 
You don’t have to be told twice, you love sushi and you’re probably going to need your strength for the evening. 
“You are going to need a safe word tonight.” Your mouth goes dry and you become accurately aware of the small remote control in his possession. 
“We are going to use a colour coding system, much like traffic lights. If I ask you for a colour tonight you have three options. Green means you want to keep going,” he emphasizes the word you. 
“Yellow means you need a break and will let me know when you’re ready again. Say red and we stop.” Joel pauses and looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 
“Yes, sir,” you reply in between bites. 
He picks up his wine and takes a sip before continuing softly, reaching across to grab your hand. “But baby, you can say yellow or red at any time. If you need a break or reassurance, say yellow. And if it’s too intense and you need me to stop, say red. We’ve done our research on this. But you need to know that if you say stop, or that you need a break, or even if you’re crying and saying I’m hurting you, I will not stop. Colours only. Understand?”
You nod while taking a big mouthful of wine, the nervous excitement that you’ve been feeling all day courses through your body. As your wine glass is put back on the table the vibrating starts again, stronger this time. 
“You should know by now that you need to use your fucking words, Little Dove.” He says darkly. 
“Yes,” you stammer. “Yes. I under….I understand, sir.”
The vibrating stops and you let out a breathy, Oh god.
You both eat your dinner and finish the wine, this man could give you whiplash with how quickly he can go from sir to family man.  He asks about your day and tells you about the new apprentice he’s hired. When you both finish eating he takes the dishes to the sink. He turns to face you, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. The sleeves of his t-shirt stretch over the ropes of muscles lining his biceps. 
“Little Dove, do I have your consent to make you come until you use a safe word?” 
Again, the whiplash. 
Your mouth goes dry as you reply with his preferred ‘yes, sir.’ 
The toy comes to life again, on a higher setting than the last 2 times. You lean forward so your ass is slightly off the chair to ease some of the intensity. You’re not a stranger to a vibrator, but never one that’s pushed this firmly against your g spot and your clit. The seat of your chair is clamped between your fingers as you cry out in pleasure. 
“Don’t make me tie you to that fucking chair. Sit down, Little Dove.”
You do as he says, letting out a desperate moan as the hard seat presses the two ends of the u shaped toy deeper and harder against your g spot. 
“Oh fuck - fuck - m’gonna…” you close your eyes and your head falls back as the white heat in your center starts to reach its breaking point. 
Joel strides over to you and grabs your chin, twisting you slightly to face him. “Look at me, I want to see it when you come.” 
“J-Joel,” his hand doesn’t leave your chin and he watches you with such admiration as you start to come undone. 
“That’s it, Little Dove,” he whispers as he places a few kisses along your jaw towards your ear adding, “Let go for me.” 
Your orgasm hits you hard, spreading from the base of your spine and out to every inch of your body. Wave after wave flows through you, intensified by the look of admiration spreading across Joel's face.  
“There you go - good girl.” 
Your fingers start to ache as you fight to stay seated in the chair, his wishes are your command and you’ll do anything to hear him praise you again. You squirm against the seat as overstimulation starts to take over. 
“Please, sir,” you beg, “fuck! I need…I need to move.” 
“So beautiful when you beg, Little Dove….count it for me” He says. 
“One sir, thank you.” It comes out weak and breathy, a voice you didn’t expect after only one orgasm. 
“Give me a colour, baby.” His voice is almost soothing as he torments you with the vibrator. 
Current state aside, you’re not giving up or giving in after one orgasm, even if it is still coursing through you minutes later. 
“Green!” You scream, shifting yourself off the chair slightly as he switches to a new vibration setting.  Its intensity varies and shifts, and the anticipation of never knowing what might hit you next is a new level of wonderful torture.
Joel slides your chair out and kneels in front of you, pushing your hips back down to the chair. 
“I will tie you down if you don’t stay still, Little Dove,” he growls before slamming his lips into yours.
A second orgasm tears through your body, your hands move to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you try not to move. It’s no use, the vibrations are too intense and you buck your hips up while your head falls back breaking the kiss. 
The kitchen fills with your cries of ecstasy. Somehow you manage to count and thank him for the second one before he turns off the toy and pulls you to your feet. You grip his strong forearms to steady yourself, your pussy still fluttering against the weight of the vibrator. 
“You have five seconds before I turn this on high, Little Dove. Unless you can make it to the bedroom before that.” 
Your legs feel like jelly beneath you, but your competitive side kicks in and you sprint down the hallway as he loudly and authoritatively counts to five. You almost make it through the bedroom when you feel the most intense vibration hit your swollen g spot. You stumble forward, folding your upper body onto the bed. Your brain scrambles to catch up to your body as it processes that you’re not in pain but instead in a state of agonizing pleasure. 
Joel walks up behind you, pressing himself against your ass. “You’re doing such a good job for me,” he praises before landing a hard slap on your right ass cheek. 
Your body is suspended in that moment right before you come. You almost feel like you’re floating and the pleasure is so intense that you can’t even make a noise as you clench the bedsheet in your fists to try to ground yourself. 
He uses his body to pin you down, folding over you and whispering “Give me a colour,” in your ear. 
“Green” comes out in a shaky whisper. 
“That’s my girl.” He says proudly, biting your shoulder blade. 
Again it’s his words that do it, my girl, and you finally tip over the edge and tremble underneath him. Joel kisses and sucks the skin of your upper back, every inch of your body feels encompassed by him and crying out for relief, but you’re not giving in. 
“Ah - fuuuuck…” you feel like this orgasm has been going on for hours.
“I wish you could see how good you look right now.” 
“Stop. P-please. Stop,” you beg in between gasps of air. 
As you come down from your high the vibrating slows to a small tickle, not enough to make you come again but enough to remind you that it’s there.
Can someone die from an orgasm? 
“Take off your clothes,” Joel growls in your ear, slapping your right ass cheek as he peels himself off of you. “I’m not stopping until you use the safe word, Little Dove.” 
He pulls his shirt off and watches as you undo the clasps and clips of your lingerie and slide it off with shaky hands. 
As you lay on the bed you say, “I’m not a fucking quitter, sir.” 
Joel smirks, laughing through his nose a little as he wraps a silk cuff around each ankle, spreading your legs apart for him. “How many are we at so far?” 
As he cuffs your wrists you reply. “Three. Thank you, sir.” 
He kisses your forehead as he slowly removes the vibrator. “Fuck me,” he says, “look at this mess, such a good girl for me.” 
You close your eyes and let the praise wash over you like a warm bath. Joel shifts his body between your legs and places two little kisses on your swollen clit making you whimper and suck your bottom lip between your teeth. 
He uses two fingers to lightly circle your clit making you come instantly with a whimpering ‘four, thank you, sir,’ at the end. 
Joel doesn’t stop, switching to use his tongue while keeping the same pace and pressure as you come again.
“Ah - five, thank you, sir!”
….and again….”fuck, six. Thank you, sir.”
...and again….”s-seven - oh god - thank y-you, sir.” 
Your skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as a cool liquid drizzles down your pussy. You gasp at the new sensation, eyes shooting to his face. 
“Stay still, Little Dove.” 
As he runs his fingers up and down your pussy, the lube turns warm and tingly, heightening his touches. Joel draws circles on your clit with his thumb, pursing his lips and blowing cool air. The warmth turns icy cold, and when he stops blowing, heat rushes to your pussy, pulling another orgasm from you. 
Yes, I’m certain someone can die from an orgasm. 
“Count, Little Dove.” 
A whine escapes your lips as you try to tug your legs together. His thumb has slowed down but it’s all becoming too much. “Eight. I can’t anymore, sir.” 
He blows cool air again and the heat rushing has you keening all over again. 
“Please, Joel. I can’t. Please.” Tears spring from your eyes. 
“You’re ok. You can do this, baby.” Cool air hits your pussy again and you come apart.  “Good girl. So gorgeous. Count it for me, Little Dove.” 
“Nine. N-nine,” your eyes slam shut as he pulls away from you. “T-thank you, sir.” 
Before you’ve even finished thanking him, he slides his middle finger inside you, lightly massaging your g spot that’s still so sensitive from the vibrator. He pushes one of his strong hands down on your mound as he torturously works you toward your tenth orgasm. 
“No…please. Sir, I,” you gasp as you try to pull free. 
“I can’t,” the pleasure is almost painful at this point as the pressure from your arousal builds. He knows your close, he’s been dying to make you squirt again after the other night. 
“Color,” Joel says tenderly, slipping a second finger inside you and hooking the forward. 
You swallow hard against your sore and scratchy throat. You whine ‘green’, as you arch your back to try to ease the intense mixture of pain, pleasure and pressure that you’re experiencing. 
“Stay still, Little Dove,” Joel pushes harder on your lower belly. “Give me number ten. Show me, baby. Show me how good this feels.” 
You swear that everything stops, including your heart and time, as you fall apart under his touch and gush all over his hand. The walls of your pussy are clenching around Joel’s fingers and you can feel a puddle forming underneath you.  You think you hear Joel praising you, but the sound is muffled by your gasps and moans.  If you lived in an apartment your neighbours might think you were being tortured based on the loud cries coming out of you. Joel is sure that he’ll be making you a hot toddy to ease your throat later, but right now he’s hyper-focused on getting you through this orgasm.
As you start to come down his hand slows, “relax, baby.”
 “Red. S-stop. Fuck Joel, red.” 
Joel gently removes his fingers, shifting quickly to undo your restraints. You’re shivering and exhausted as he pulls you into his arms and away from the soaked sheets.
Everything Joel Miller does is done with the utmost care and attention, including aftercare. Your heated blanket is already warmed up, tucked near the headboard. He pulls it over you and places a featherlight kiss on your sweaty forehead. 
“I got you, darlin’. Shhh. I got you.” He holds you tighter as you melt into him. 
After a few moments of silence, you tilt your face up to look at him. “Are you okay?” He asks gently.
You bite your bottom lip to stop a smile. “Ya, that was - amazing.” 
You laugh a little and tuck back into his chest. “Are you sure? I’m so proud of you for using a safe word, but I need to ensure I didn’t hurt you.” 
You shake your head and fight to stay awake. “No…you didn’t” you mumble sleepily, stifling a yawn. “I’m great - just one minute…then I’ll do something for you.” 
Joel laughs softly and tilts your face up to his. He presses his lips to yours gently. “That was for me, Little Dove. Sleep for a little bit, I’ll wake you up for electrolytes and food.”
The warmth of your blanket takes over, you whisper an ‘I love you’ just as you drift off, thanking whoever brought this beautiful man into your life. 
++++++++++
Taglist: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut
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hushedlover · 4 months
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Can i request a Mike Schmidt who actually got good sleep but his baby sitter/new found crush looks like she was hit by a train and he’s like “just sleep here” and his own thoughts come in with “take my bed.” (Which she tries to deny)
The sound of the front door closing and keys landing in the dish on the foyer table woke you up. You peeked your head over the back of the couch to look at Mike. He’s peeling the security vest off but for the first time ever he looks like he’s slept a full night.
“Hey. Abby still sleeping?” He calls over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Too early for her to be up,” you call back. Something in your voice sets off alarms for Mike. He glances back at you and sees you staring off into space, unfocused eyes blankly settled on the back of the couch. There are deep bags under your eyes and your hair is a hot mess, looking like you’d been tugging at it all night.
“You okay?” He calls tentatively. That gains your attention. Your eyes snap up and focus on his face. Immediately you send him an unconvincing smile as you stand from the couch. You begin gathering your things, keys and bag, while heading for your shoes.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just- just tired. You seem well rested though,” the smile you shoot him this time is genuine, a softer version of your usual one. “I’m glad. You need the sleep.”
You drop your keys as you’re getting your shoes on, cursing and bending to grab them. Some part of the action through you off balance, and the next thing you know your butt is firmly planted on the hard wood floor. A dull pulsing pain emanates from the point of contact with the surface and you drown, looking down at the floor accusingly.
“Okay, come here,” Mike grunts as he slides his hands under your armpits. With a quiet groan from both of you, he hoists you to your feet. You stumble and regain your balance before looking up at Mike.
“Thanks,” you mutter as heat floods your cheeks.
“No problem,” he says, his brows furrowed slightly. You go to reach for your keys that are seated in his hand, but Mike pulls them back. “Listen, you’re exhausted. I don’t really want you driving home right now. Why don’t you sleep here?”
More heat rises in your face and you shift on your feet nervously. His face is close, almost too close to yours, his brown eyes demanding your focus and attention. His light scruff is distracting, so are his lips, and you almost get lost in them before remembering to respond.
“Oh no, Mike. I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t want to intrude, plus I’m sure Abby will want to watch TV and I don’t want to take over your couch,” You stutter and trip over your words as you try to rush them out.
“What do you-? Oh! No, no I meant like,” you swear you can see red tint his cheeks as his eyes dart away from yours for a second. “I meant sleep in my bed.”
Both of you go silent and stare at each other with wide eyes for a second. You distantly wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in your chest. Or maybe see your pulse jumping in your neck. Suddenly, Mike snaps out of the stupor.
“Not like that! I mean- No, I um, I mean I’m not gonna be using it since I’ll be up and I just washed my sheets and stuff so-“
You choose to save him from his own suffering.
“I would actually really appreciate that.” Just on cue, you yawn softly. “I think I’d be a hazard on the road and I don’t want that to be on your conscious.”
You send him a sheepish smile, hoping he detects the humor in your tone. He must, because his face lights up in a grin. You squeak in surprise when Mike suddenly squats in front of you, gently grabbing your foot and slipping off the one shoe you managed to get on. He stands and helps you shrug off your jacket.
You distantly register the sound of your keys crashing into the tray as Mike leads you down the hall and towards his room. His hand on your elbow is a warm comfort as he guides you to sit on the mattress. He tugs the blanket loose and gently pushes you down. You blink up at him sleepily as he pulls the blanket up to your chin.
“Stay as long as you need. Really. You do so much for us. Just… rest. Yeah?” He smiles down at you and right now you could swear he’s an angel. You feel your lips quirk up out of reflex and your hand reaches up, but you stop yourself before you can brush his cheek.
“Thanks,” you whisper softly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open now. The pillows, the sheets, the blanket, everything smells like Mike and it’s making you delirious. It’s a weird comfort, like Mike is actually holding you in his arms. The smell gets stronger and you want to open your heavy eyes to see why, but the feel of slightly chapped lips against your forehead tells you why.
That’s the last thing you register before sleep drags you into its clutches.
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subway-tolkien · 6 months
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Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.
This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.
Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.
Listen. Listen.
Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.
But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.
Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.
S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.
Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.
(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.
It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).
Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.
But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.
[Stares in Voltron S8]
And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.
They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?
Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.
Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.
Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.
He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.
“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”
You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.
I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.
But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.
If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.
Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.
And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.
I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.
So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.
Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.
In the end, it all came down to love.
“There he is.”
Goodbye, Blackbeard.
Hello, Ed.
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liveontelevision · 2 months
Text
Okay, this started as a rant about Lucifer lore and turned into an argumentative essay on why Lucifer is a bottom. My b.
18+ Smut ahead, lots of angst
•••
Here's the thing about Lucifer. He was an awesome dreamer, fell in love with Lillith, and was banished to Hell. Literally forced to see what the gift of good will can do at its worse. Unless he's made some personal contact with a sinner to get like updates about what the gift of good will did right, he had to be stuck in a depression for centuries, at least until Charlie was born. And while that would've definitely given him a new passion, he'll never feel confident in dreaming again.
With how much he dislikes sinners and what they represent, i wonder if there had to be some strain on their relationship when it came to Lillith taking control? They never really talk about if they had a fallout or if she just disappeared, but i dont think they really got divorced either.
When Lucifer looks at that family picture and winces, does he feel bad about not contacting charlie? About something he did to make lillith leave? Or maybe he feels bad about being upset at lillith for leaving in the first place? There's so much to umpack there i live for the lore.
Love Interests:
But when that comes to potential love interests in the future, Lucifer hasnt had to court anyone before like ever. Not in the circumstances that they live in a big city like Hell. So when he finally ends up catching feelings, he has no idea. People around the hotel literally need to pick up on context clues for him and have an intervention to tell him he's in love again.
Even if he hasnt seen lillith in 7 years, their relationship had to be a drastic change compared to new love. I think that his love interest would also pick it up before he does, and you would let him work at his own pace. Fuck, it is so important that he goes through this process at his own pace.
With so much strain on his past relationships with loved ones, he fully gaslights himself into thinking he doesnt deserves and isnt allowed to feel affection anymore. I hate making characters i love suffer. But i feel like in his state of mind he'd go through depressive episodes and panic attacks, maybe some night terrors. Theyed be about his past and his subconscious would essentially tell him he has feelings again, and he shouldn't act them in case he scares you away and abandons you, like heaven. Or drives you away like lillith. Or purposely blocks you out like charlie. Mans is struggling i swear. He needs some comfort.
After finally coming to terms, hes a nervous wreck about every decision he makes. He'll constantly stare in the mirror in the mornings, making sure he looks his best, would plan mental scripts before even having a conversation with you, and would become a bumbling mess just trying to make jokes out of the situation, some base level actions, like how we saw in the show. He'll manage to finally ask you out, but all he really knows how to do is profess an undying love (i feel like his confession to lillith was hella dramatic) so it was a little awkward, but still cute. And of course you said yes.
So let's say its been 5+ years since he moved into the hotel, met you and finally managed to confess his feelings. When it comes to the actual relationship? You give him reassurance and support him through his mental episodes, and laugh at his jokes and praise him for everything he does. He has such intense imposture syndrome though, that even other demons have to reassure that theres no way you dont love him with all your being. Because it is literally obvious to everyone but him.
He's pretty good at doing the romantic fluff stuff in public, he loves to make a big show out of treating you like royalty and even trying to embarrass you when you become close enough. He's always more charasmatic in public, it seems easier than doing that alone.
Not in a negative way, but Lucifer is so never to be alone with you. You take the lead a bit more in those scenarios, suggesting ideas like movies or just coming up with small talk yourself. He needs someone who'll be patient with him. Being alive for millions of years AND being left or shamed by all your loved ones during that time is literally the definition of Truama.
Of course he's been bottling all that shit up, he has no one to confide with. There's no one who's been alive and witnessed it all the way he has. So bless you for loving and caring for him even without understanding all hes been through.
You'll have some rough patches, where this emotional side locks him away from you and everyone else. It might be a few days before you see him. He'll lock himself in his office, pumping out ducks by the dozen just to keep himself from sleeping, because he's scared he'll have night terrors if he feels asleep. He's in a constant loop;
"what if i fucked up?"
"what if i try to talk about it and then they realize how bad i fucked up?"
"what if that's enough of a reason for them to leave me?"
"what if i scare them away?"
"what if that fucks this up?"
"what if i fucked up.. Again..?"
After he leaves his office, youre excited to see him out and about, but you cant make a big deal out of it. You have to speak to him calmly, make sure he's physically okay before talking to him about his thought process. It might take awhile, but he'll eventually trust you enough to open up. And of course it'll never be bad enough for you to leave him, he's just struggling.
Physical Contact:
It takes him an even longer time to become physical with you. He hasnt been intimate for over a decade at this point, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with little affections like hand holding, cuddling, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing? Hoo boy, he melts after your first kiss. It couldve been even a small peck and he would still become a nervous wreck just trying to ask for more.
He'll ask for physical touch more than provide it at first. You'll give him a quick kiss and he'll look up at you super eager just like, "another?" He'll grow into tastful pda's, linking arms, quick hugs and smooches, holding hands all that.
He becomes putty in your hand when you're alone though. You'll nudge him to lean against your shoulder or even lay his head in your lap while youre lounging or watching movies. He becomes so relaxed in your presence, that you'll want to suddenly peck him just to see his suddenly flustered reaction.
You'd give him massages that he would always be hesistant over. He was always a little nervous that he wasnt giving enough to you, but you were quick to assure him that wasnt the case. You'd straddle his hips while giving him a slowww massage. It starts with light touches, tracing your fingers over his shoulder blades and spine. You'd trace your fingers over his chest when you would cuddle too, depending on the position. Or stroke his back sweetly. It was enough of a distraction to keep his mind occupied, away from any spiraling thoughts he might be having.
He purrs. Convince me that he doesnt purr. (You cant)
Being secluded for so long probably means that he doesnt fly as much as he used to. It was probably a passion of his, and he was especially delighted to share it with lillith and charlie.
So during those 7 years he barely flew, he also didnt take care of his wings. I feel like theyre something to be summoned, so they arent constantly tucked into his back. You'd basically scold him sometimes to just let you clean his wings.
You'd do it in like a spring-type bathhouse that Lucifer would have in his castle somehow. It was one of the first intimate moments he's experienced in years, so he was generally going insane. Feeling your hands and a little comb rake through the feathers on his giant wings? You'd have to tap his shoulder sometimes to keep him from falling asleep to the relaxation alone. After the first time, the water you used was pretty dirty and he had a lot of loose feathets that were combed out. Damn, he needed this.
Intimacy:
After awhile, you sit down and would have a discussion about being intimate in bed. Lucifer would be absolutely nervous about overstepping by asking this, (even though you've been together for about a year at this point). He would use his mental scripts and basically practice what he wanted to say.
It would mainly be him saying he wants to do this because he loves you and youve done so much for him that he wants to give back to you in this way. It would consist of him saying its okay if you dont want to, or if you ever want to stop to just say so. But of course you want to, how could you not?
It would start slow, he actually tries taking the lead in this specific situation. He would kiss you first, his lips trembling at the thought that this is actually happening. Feeling his nerves, you'd cup his face and stroke his cheeks with your thumbs lightly. That will help him ease up enough to start letting the passion take over more.
He'd become more confident in slipping his tongue into your mouth and placing his hands on your hips to pull you closer to him. Lucifer would get lost in the moment, pulling you to straddle his lap as he kissed and licked and bit his way across both your shoulders and down to the softeness of your breast. After leaning back to look at the damage his eyes would become increasingly wide, looking up at you with a flustered expression. Seeing you losing it as much as he was, gave him enough courage to keep up at it.
He would almost hesistantly take a hold of your breasts and would massage them softly, running his thumbs across your nipples and becoming absolutely delighted at the reaction you gave. The adrenaline from the pleasure would make you start grinding against his lap, which would make lucifer's hands on your hips pull away for a moment and make his breath stutter. Lucifer would look you up and down as if he didnt know what to do next, studying your body with darting eyes. You'd press a small kiss on his forehead before guiding his hands back onto your hips with yours, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.
"Are you okay, Luci?" He would gulp before nodding his head and turning ridiculously red across his face, maybe from the idea of what was to come, maybe just from your voice alone. You'd keep your hands ontop of his at your hips as you'd keep moving, letting out breathy moans. He would be holding his breath without realizing, an absolute nervous wreck just from the view.
He would already be hard just from the previous make out session, so this would cause him to lean his back against the bed, his strength giving out. You'd keep up at it, feeling his hips jolt up to meet yours at times.
He was a sweaty, twitching mess in front of you and you hated to admit how much that excited you.
His scripted plan was immediately forgotten, but he was quick to remember that he wanted to please you.
He'd snap out of his state of intense pleasure, to carefully switch positions, him looking over you with your back against the bed.
You both discuss it, of course, attempting to set boundaries before hand. Even just the tender discussion would get him riled up. So he'd lean foward and kiss you again, showing off his forked tongue before peppering kisses down your entire body, until he was close enough to let his hot breath heat up your folds.
You'd feel his nervous breath on you before delving in. He would be hesistant of course, but would be quick to get used to your entrance after running his tongue across your entirety multiple times. Lucifer loves providing pleasure this way, so his brain immediately knew what to do once the nerves past. He was quick to take a tight hold onto your thighs to keep you in place as he entered you with his demonic lengthy tongue. He would look up at you as he sort of aimlessly dug around at first, waiting for a reaction. Once he'd see you dip your head back with a muffled moan, he would close his eyes to focus all his attention to that one spot. He'd reach his thumb around to circle and massage your clit that he would find far too quickly. You'd arch your back and try to get more friction against his tongue, but it's easy to forget that he is quite literally the strongest being in Hell. You weren't going anywhere.
He'd love feeling your hands in his hair and would absolutely lose it feeling you pull hard when he'd hit just the right spot. As soon as he set a steady thythm and was hearing your voice become more unhinged, he'd speed up to an extent that you didn't realize was possible after going for so long. You discussed cumming before and he made it very clear that he was okay with you finishing on his face. Fuck, he wanted it. You still warned him, moaning out his name to get his attention, "I-I'm almost there- K-Keep doing that.. like that..! Luci-" you'd almost direct him though the whole process, but were quick to become a moaning mess unable to communicate with words. You'd reach your limit and he would let you buck up into his face this time, loosening his grip on your thighs. He'd pull away after licking you clean, sending overstimulated pleasure across your entire body, with a line of your juices following his tongue as he lifted his head. He would pant with his tongue still sticking out of his mouth, and even through hazy eyes you loved seeing his demonic tongue and thinking about how it just drove you to climax.
Things would switch up again, and you'd sit him against the back of the bedframe. you'd have another quick discussion before seating yourself slowly on his length, which had been throbbing for any contact since the night started. The first few times, he'd do his best not to cum immediately. He hadn't been touched like this in a while, after all. You'd only begin to move once you made sure he was okay since his struggle was written all over his face.
The moment you began to keep a steady space, he would jut his hips upwards, becoming needy to feel this sensation he hadn't felt in over a decade. The first time didn't last long. It was sweet, and he would constantly moan out your name and babble on about how much he loves you. The entire time, you'd be praising him through every move until he was going too fast for you to get a sentence out.
He'd cum inside of you, another previously discussed topic. You essentially had to beg to convince him it was okay. You'd collapse onto his chest, a position he didnt see often. While the two of you always cuddled, you were so focused on making sure he was comfortable, Lucifer realized you didnt often get the chance to just relax on top of him. So after realizing that? Aftercare was amazing.
He'd let you sit with him inside you for a while, before pulling you off and immediately cleaning you up. Some nights, when he felt especially dominant, he would lap up his own cum from your incredibly sensitive cunt. He would swallow some of it, but was mainly pushing anything that dripped out back into your entrance.
After cleaning you up, he would wiggle his way back underneath you and pull you onto his chest, enjoying taking care of you the way you took care of him.
After the first night, lucifer would be much more confident. He'd have that healthy glow, but would be more assertive during meetings, more communicative and wouldnt shut others out as often. It really helped him realize how much you gave to him, and he was determined to give all that and more back to you.
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asmosmainhoe · 5 months
Note
KAYA LISTEN TO ME-
Idk if you will feel this as much as me BUT
First you have to listen to "Get in the water" from Epic the musical. (If You didn't already xD)
Second:
How will the obey me boys react to seeing the MC in the position singing this/threatening the person that for example did something terrible to a person dear to them or even killed a loved one? Would they let them do it? Would they stop them? How would they feel about it?
For the past day I can't keep thinking about anything else and now I need your help because you always get the point that I want aaaaaagskyhskdh help
MC kills someone
MC has their magical abilities here and is manipulating the ocean
I really recommend to listen to Get in the Water by Epic the Musical, but you don't have to to understand this. It's mainly for the vibes
Gender: neutral
Warnings: threats, death, angst, MC is murderous, slight spoilers about what happens after you free Belphie from the attic in Mammon's and Belphie's parts
Lucifer
He knows what you're feeling right now, but he doesn't want you to do something you might regret later on
"Are you absolutely sure?"
As a response you only shoot him a glare full of rage and sorrow. That is answer enough
"Fine then. I won't stand in your way."
The person responsible for your grief has brought this upon themselves and Lucifer refuses to intervene
He will have your back the same way his brothers had his back during the Celestial war
Maybe he should. Maybe he should keep you from taking a life, but would he react ant different if they had taken you from him? It wouldn't be fair
So he stands still at a nearby cliff, silently watching the tides rise and listening to your angry roars
The other person falls to their knees, begging for mercy which only fuels you
Lucifer can't do much except be there for you once you finish the deed and he intends to stay by your side for as long as it takes
Mammon
He's very well aware of the fact that nothing in the three realms is going to talk you out of it, but he doesn't want to see you go down this path of destruction
"MC, you're better than this!"
"What if that person had killed me? Huh, Mammon? What would you do in my position?"
He knows what he'd do. After all he once held your dead body in his arms. The image still haunts him everytime he closes his eyes
Mammon is all for making people who take things dear to him pay, but you're his sweet MC. It pains him to see you go from the kindest person he's ever met to...this
He wishes he could take all the suffering from you and go through this hell himself
The last thing he wants is lose you so he quickly pulls himself together and decides to stand by you when you do it
"You really don't have to, Mammon."
"I do. I won't let ya go through this alone."
Because wherever you go he will follow you even if you're leading him to the deepest pits of hell
Leviathan
Like Mammon he's hesitant to let you do this at first
It's just that you've never been a killer in his eyes. You're his innocent human who occasionally kicks ass when the ass deserves it, but this is entirely different
"I want to do it by the ocean."
"W-what will you do there?"
"...drown them."
Yes. Drowning. One of the most painful deaths one can experience
Levi knows it, because he feels every single life that is being taken by the tides fading. They're his tides after all
Only then he realizes how serious you are about this and how nothing will stop you from doing it
"If you do it then I want to be with you. In the water."
You stare at him silently for a few seconds until you nod
He desperately wants to be there in case you drown yourself in your own grief
Satan
No one understands the rage that you felt the day this person took the thing most dear to you like Satan does
That day he felt it through the realms. It woke him up from his sleep and made him nearly tare down the entire house of lamentation
Your wrath still pulls on him to this day. It's making him go insane and he has no idea how long he's going to be able to keep calm. If this goes on any longer he might destroy the entirety of the devildom
That's also why he doesn't disagree with you when you tell him about your murderous plans. Maybe you both will have some kind of relief
Nothing could prepare him for the day
Not only does the sea rage under your hand. Satan does as well
It's as if something knocked out all the air in his lungs and he falls to his knees, desperately trying to control his shaking body
"Get in the water!"
He can hear your screams inside his head and he is so close to kill that person with his own two hands, but he wouldn't take that from you. He couldn't
"Get in the water."
Asmodeus
People might think that Asmo doesn't understand love. That he only understand desire and attraction on a physical level
But truth be told, no one loves the way he loves
So when you tell him what you plan on doing his expression turns completely blank and he takes your hands
You can see your own determination in his eyes
"Do you really want this?"
He whispers the words, but they're still hanging loudly in the silent room
"I do."
"Very well, love. I'll go with you."
"You don't have to, Asmo. It's my business."
"Oh, my silly MC. How do you intend to raise the entire ocean without channeling a demon's magic?"
You usually channel the brothers magic on accident, because you don't feel comfortable using their powers for your own gain
Asmo's offer is different. He has a point and looks just as sure about this as you are
If you wouldn't have decided to kill the person who hurt you the most then he would have done it himself
Beelzebub
Ever since grief took over you Beel has been eating less. Seeing you in so much pain makes him feel sick to his stomach. All he does all day is worry about you so there isn't really the time to eat something either
He's of Levi's and Mammon's opinions when it comes to this. Beel doesn't want you to walk the dark path of revenge and self destruction
Belphie is living proof that the hatred doesn't end and only takes over everything that makes you...well you
Seeing his brother in such despair was bad enough, but he can't handle seeing you like this as well
But he gets it. He felt the exact same when he lost Lilith. There were less murderous intentions though
"MC, please don't. You saw what it did to Belphie-"
"And none of you stopped him."
Ouch. Even though your words hurt, Beel won't hold them against you. He knows it's the anger in you speaking and not you
Nothing will change your mind so the only thing he can do is support you and make sure you don't kill yourself in the process
Belphegor
He knows. He knows it too well and is just waiting for you to come up to him. To come up with a plan similar to his during the time he was locked up in the attic
Belphie is the last person to stop you. It simply wouldn't be right if he did, considering how he lashed out on you back then
"Use my power, MC."
"Are you sure?"
Of course you know that you don't have to ask him. If anyone would help you with this then it was him
"I owe you. For forgiving me."
You don't think twice about taking him up on his offer and the two of you immediately get to work
The sound of crashing waves is deafening, but Belphie can hear your screams loud and clear even though there is quite a distance between you and him
The murderous look on your face, the rage you wield the tides with and the lack of life in your eyes remind Belphie of himself
And the day he killed you
---
Masterlist
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chrisevansonly · 6 months
Text
𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: charles leclerc x female reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: life is too heavy to carry, thankfully your boyfriend will carry it with you
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: talks of mental health and suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, heavy topics so please read at your own discretion
𝐚/𝐧: i’ll be honest this is self indulgent and i know i said i wasn’t writing but idk i feel so low and thought writing about how im feeling might help? ive struggled with mental illness my whole life so i find writing it out in a way i can enjoy helps…i hope it helps others that are in need of it too<3
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Life is painful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, it’s dark and gloomy, heavy and hard to carry, life is painful. Okay well maybe not for everyone but for you it was, and it was draining, exhausting really trying to survive each day instead of living like everyone else. Truth be told you’d struggled with mental illness for as long as you can remember. In high school the suicidal thoughts came into play and you had fallen into a place no one deserved to fall.
You’d hear people tell you to smile, cheer up, get outside and take in the fresh air, but they don’t understand. They don’t get the internal pain one feels when they deal with depression and anxiety, unless you live it: you don’t get it.
So yes, life was painful but there was an ounce of sunshine in your life and it came in the form of Charles, your boyfriend of exactly three years. The man who broke through the storm to bring you blue skies and calm waters, the man who held you tightly as you cried for a break, aching for a moment of peace within yourself. Charles was a gift, you were sure of it: he was too.
“my love…?”
His voice was soft, delicate as it filtered through the dark bedroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at you huddled under the blankets, almost willing them to swallow you whole
“hmm?”
It might not have been a word but Charles would take it
“can I get you anything? do you need something?”
The room fell silent again except for the sound of covers shifting, your head peaking over the duvet
“y-you please”
Hearing your voice break was enough for Charles to promptly move from his place in the doorway, lifting up the covers on his side of the bed before settling down and pulling you into his side, letting you virtually melt against him
“okay, okay i’m here, it’s okay amour..”
“it-it hurts”
“i know baby, i know it does…but it will only hurt for a little, i promise you.”
You wanted to believe him, you really did, but how many years would you have to suffer before it truly felt like you would never know how to feel okay.
“it’s hard to be here”
Now this caught Charles attention right away, having known your past with depression and even suicidal thoughts, he felt his blood run cold at the thought of you being anywhere than right here with him
“listen to me baby, i know it hurts, i know it’s hard, but i promise you i will help you find your sunshine, i will help you find your happiness”
He paused shifting to rest a hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping at a stray tear on your cheek
“i love you with everything in me, and i will do whatever i can to help you through this, if you need me to carry more of the weight, let me, if you need a shoulder to lean on more than usual, do it. you are my entire world baby, i won’t ever leave you out in the dark to take this on all on your own..”
Letting out a soft sniffle you looked up at him, always appreciating just how much love he held for you in his eyes alone
“why, i-i’m so sad a-all the time”
“because i love you. it doesn’t matter if your angry, happy, sad it’s part of you, i love all of you no matter what, and i am not going anywhere”
Charles leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead letting you have a minute to just digest everything he was saying
“pinky promise?” you asked softly, holding your pinky finger out which brought a soft smile to his face
“pinky promise baby, always.”
Nothing else needed to be said as you curled yourself further into his side, his arms only tightening on you, as if to keep you from slipping away from him. Charles knew words only helped so much, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you blue skies back. Even if it took days or weeks, even months, Charles was going to be right beside you, every step of the way.
Life might be painful, but you never had to go through it alone again.
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bothoutsiders · 7 months
Note
ok so you know the hero gets kidnapped and no one comes and the villain gets pissed on their captive’s behalf and treats them better than their former associates did trope ?
i need that with early red hood jason and robin tim
jason steals tim expecting the calvary to come racing in
but ,,, no one comes
and ok jason can understand why timbit's little baby hero team didn't come
superboy, wonder girl and impulse are all currently off planet
but the batfam isn't
the girls are in hong kong for whatever reason but dick and bruce are across town from where him and tim are
he's had tim for over a week they have to have realized that he's missing at this point
and now jason's like "actually fuck them i'm keeping you"
hello anon! thank you for your request. i think it came a bit small; first jaytim thing i type with my new keyboard B) but it was fun. it's a bit domestic tho, hope you enjoy :)
--
It has been a little over a week since Robin got here. 
It somehow felt like those parents who forgot to pick up their kids at school. Robin had been at the mercy of Red Hood for a week and a few days and there was no sign of anyone coming to rescue him anytime soon.
Jason even went through his notes, every piece of information he had, and his own plan. Many times.
Something didn’t click.
When he kidnapped Robin, he knew Batman would come for him. Knew there would be a big fight, some spilled blood and maybe broken bones. He then would be able to torture Robin in front of Bruce and make him beg, maybe even cry. Satiate his own thirst for vengeance with Bruce’s suffering.
But nothing like that happened.
Robin’s friends were not around and Jason knew that. It was excusable but… What was the explanation for Batman to ignore this? Was he trying to play some kind of sick game with his mind or did he actually not care about Tim?
He didn’t even send Nightwing either. There was no Justice League. There was nobody.
No one.
What was the point of torturing or doing something to Robin if Bruce wasn’t here to witness it?
“Do you have golden grahams?”
Jason turned to look at the teen and thought about what was happening. There was no way Bruce hadn’t realised his new Robin was missing. Nor that Jason had kidnapped him and now was even feeding him.
“No, but I can buy some later.” He said as he placed a windowed box on the table and pushed it toward Tim slowly. “I got you donuts though.”
“Oh?” Robin looked at the box, interested when he had heard it was donuts. Right now he was wearing Jason’s clothes and had come out from a nice shower. “They’re from  Holesome Dough! Great!”
Jason watched him devour one after another while he thought about the situation. He was definitely not imagining things. It was happening.
He looked down and noticed Tim’s bare feet, some drops of his wet hair making a mess around. “I’ve told you to wear shoes and to dry your hair properly. I’m not going to clean that.”
Tim looked down for a few moments before he’d go and sit down in a chair, enjoying his snack.
Stupid Batman was ignoring his own Robin, who was definitely in danger. If Jason were completely fucked up, right now he would have had Tim’s head on display and probably had sent some parts of his body to Bruce, just as a silly joke.
Bruce knew where he was and didn’t even care!
He didn’t care.
Jason rubbed his eyes, tired and frustrated. “I’m not really surprised. Just disappointed.”
“About what?” Tim turned to look at him, a crumb on his upper lip. “Oh. I’ll dry my hair after this. You want some?” He offered him the donut he was eating since it was the last one.
“He’s not coming, is he?” This felt so familiar.
“Bruce?” Tim shrugged. “He might think I have it under control.”
“Replacement, I beat you up. You passed out as you bled when I took you with me. If you were able to handle it, you would’ve contacted him. He didn’t even call you. What’s his excuse?” He snorted and took a seat. “He’s across town, yeah, Gotham is big but not that big that he can’t come to rescue his sidekick.”
Of course it pissed him off. Days prior Jason had gone to check if Batman was around, to make sure he wasn’t out of Gotham doing something else that stopped him from coming to rescue his young, new soldier. The worst of all this? Batman was in Gotham.
It made Jason furious.
This Robin could have the same ending as he did, history would repeat and Bruce didn’t give a fuck about it. It didn’t seem as if Batman wanted a Robin, at least not one to last.
He just can’t be responsible like a proper adult, maybe that’s why he doesn’t have children or pets. Maybe this is why he doesn’t have a family.
He snorted, so close to pulling from his own hair. If someone has a sidekick, they teach them, they protect them. Where was Batman when he was needed? With how things went, Jason suspected that Bruce decided to give Tim to him. As those who throw meat to wild dogs, to keep them busy, keep them away.
“Fuck it. Fuck Bruce, fuck Dick, fuck everyone, I’m keeping you.”
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