#please go forth and Experience Gender

[katabay]

and some Reading Material, as promised

Assigned Female At Death, Martha G. Newman (in Trans and Genderqueer Subjects in Medieval Hagiography, Edited by Alicia Spencer-Hall and Blake Gutt)

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hi!! I’m a little lurker who only did one request once and I forgot what happened to that one so I have a different request!!

can you…uhm…write a little thing about priest!fyodor who believes reader to be a god but reader just a normal human?

And like human is a virgin and…you know where I’m going with this.

A worshiper Fyodor taking his beloved God’s virginity by riding reader until he passes out from how many times Fyodor bounced on his cock.

idk I just can’t stop thinking about it but I don’t think I worded it pretty well and you have pretty words soooo…

I’m sorry for bothering you with this imma just

go back to lurking once more…

but if I could bother you again? Can I be 🕶️ anon please?

This is similar to something I have started long ago! On my old blog! But it got deleted along with my drafts :’)

Dom!reader x sub!priest!fyodor - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (I use dick), use of condom (wow scary), no prep, cum play (licking), hierophilia, corruption, taking virginity, worshipping, fucking in a church, dacryphilia, handjob, cumming untouched, mind break, sub space, bruises, god - worshipper relationship

It happened the moment he laid his eyes on you. When you walked in, pass the grand wooden door and slandered through the small halls. That miraculous day was Sunday, morning to be precise, and you came in late for the morning chant. Everyone who sat on the benches turned their head to look at you, some with scorn, some with a mocking grin. You looked unfazed and went straight to the first row, keeping eye contact with one single person, the priest in charge.

That cold attitude despite the loud voices, the way your every move was as smooth and elegant as clear water. Your expression after sitting down, lips shut while keeping your arrogant eyes on him, as if to judge him, to attest to something. All that appeared divine in his eyes, superior even, it caused a shudder to run down his spine. He had never felt such a pressing sensation before, it was the first time.

You were staring at him so much, though he couldn’t read your intentions. Nothing, only emptiness. A gentle breeze, that brought forth comfort, turning into an icy storm capable of destruction. These words would be perfect to describe you, or how his view of you, because everyone else seems to think otherwise. Most of them scoffed about you coming in late, those little complains soon changed into more vicious words. Like a devils curse, causing the once friendly guests to sin.

“Dear father, may we continue with the morning prayers?” Among the low whispers of the devil, a voice akin to an angels emerged. “Excuse me..?” Fyodor murmured, eyes subconsciously darting to the direction of the sound. Once again, it was you who called out to him. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he noticed your piercing gaze, it was a little embarrassing that he dazed out there. “Yes, of course, pardon my inattentiveness.” The priest said, glancing at you a last time before focusing on his duties. Or at least he tried, because he couldn’t concentrate. The entire time he found himself stealing glances at you, watching you. This wasn’t like him, he couldn’t even recognise himself.

From then onwards, he found himself searching for your eyes or attention. It began with him asking around about you, then it gradually turned into him actively seeking you out. Your meetings became more frequent, and more private as well. One day, he found you kneeling in the confession box, boringly staring through the bars. He quickly positioned himself, then asked, “what brings you to me, my child?”

Seeing you up close was a new experience, he felt the tingly sensation crawling around his body again. “Father, I’m here because I believe you have something to confess.” You said with a voice coated in sweet honey. “Me, confess?” The priest mumbled, obviously baffled by your words no matter how he adored your voice. “That’s right, I can see. If you have something to say, do it now.” After hearing you out, he swallowed the lump in his throat, before smiling at you meekly and admitting, “I fear I’m not loyal to my god anymore.”

It took a lot out of him, a servant of god, to utter these words. Of course it wasn’t without reason. Simply being in your presence made him feel special and watched, as if those nonchalant eyes of yours were the watching gaze of god. He couldn’t explain it, it was a chilly feeling, but at the same time it burned him from the inside. “Speak, father.” You spoke, then he suddenly slammed his hands against the wall separating the two of you. “My lord, you don’t have to speak politely with me. I, Fyodor, this lowly subject of yours, am ready to serve you with all my heart.” The male announced, smiling at you in delight, cheeks rosy as he declared you as his new god.

Anyone who heard this would have thought he was out of his mind, staring at him with a face that screams the word disbelief. But not you, contrary to what one would expect, your expression stayed neutral. “My subject? Lord?” You questioned his choice of vocabularies, tilting your head to the side. “Yes, oh lord, please let þis servant worship you.” Then, to your surprise, the father you were supposed to confess to kneeled down and clasped his hands together, praying to you with a sickening obsession.

That shivering, oppressive feeling didn’t leave him alone, it gnawed at him and told him this was the right thing to do. He couldn’t care less what he was supposed to do or not, all that wasn’t important anymore. Since his deity has come down and granted him an audience, he only has to follow their- your orders from now on.

Whatever got him acting this way was all in his head, you were nowhere near of being a god. Quite the opposite, you were just a human like him, and you found his actions irritating. But you weren’t any better, you didn’t correct him, rather, you liked that desperate look on his face. You wanted to test his limits, to see how far he’d go for you. In truth you enjoyed playing god for him, depending on who you are asking this might be even more twisted than what fyodor was pulling off.

It started with you getting him to do bothersome stuff for you, sometimes it also became materialistic. Other times you would just converse with him and enjoy his company. He’d ask tausend questions about you, some trivial, some existential ones. Most of the time you’d put up with his antics, acting like a benevolent and nice deity. That’s when one day, one of his curiosities caught you off guard. It was when he asked you:

“my lord, do.. you want me to comfort you?” You stared at him with furrowed brows and scoffed “comfort? Where did you get that idea?” “You look stressed my lord, I wish I could do something for you.” Fyodor said, he was on his knees in front of you, who was sitting on a bench in a huge room. The room where each Sunday a crowd of people would come in for morning prayers.

He looked up at you with foggy eyes, hands itching to worship your body. How could someone be this divine and perfect? Obviously he was the chosen one, he was born to meet you. “That… I’ve never done anything like that before. Speaking of which, have you, as a priest?” You questioned, a tiny bit interested. “No, I kept my chastity for you, my god.” Fyodor answered shamelessly, then thought about what you told him.

If what you said was right, then he awfully wanted to give his first to you, and to be your first as well. To take the virginity of his most beloved god and to give, there was nothing more he could ask of. “Is that so?” Your warm voice broke off the momentary silence, then you continued with, “come here.” You tapped your thighs, wondering if he would do it. Did he believe in you enough to commit something that has always been taboo for him? A part of you doubted it, but you wished he’d obey you yet again.

The boy stared at your moving hands for a while, then did as you instructed, climbing onto your lap with reddened cheeks. “…like this?” He raised his arms, about to wrap them around your neck but decided against that. Then he bawled them into fists and kept them behind his back, before grinding against your crotch with his own bulge. “Nghh... fo-forgive me, hah I-lord, can I please continue?" Fyodor mumbled with squinted eyes, biting his bottom lip while he let his desires take over. You grabbed his waist, wrinkling his black robe and stopping him, whispering, "D-don't move, not in the church." Your conscious forbid you from carrying out such acts in a holy place. Sure, you provoked him first, though you didn’t expect it to escalate this soon.

He begged you with glistening, teary eyes, hoping you'd let him go further than that. It felt so good he couldn't stop, he has never even touched himself before so that simple gesture was enough to make him drool. "P-please." Fyodor groaned into your ear, his voice has never been this needy or lewd, it surprised both of you. Instead of stopping when you told him to, he continued to grind against you and whimper, "use me however you see fit, my lord, please let me he-help you." You clenched your teeth, use is a strong word. It’d be a lie to say you weren't aroused, so you sighed and complied with his request, "dammit, fine. Go and get my bag."

This was how you were going to have your first? Giving it to a crazy priest who believes you were a being above humanity? Who would have guessed…

You watched him get off with shaky legs, the spot between his legs was all wet and sticky already. Was it normal to be this sensitive? It's probably because he's a virgin, just look at him eagerly bringing your stuff to you. Once he came back, you fumbled around in your bag, luckily you always brought your stuff with you in case of a spontaneous one-night-stand. It never happened before, yet you knew you would need it one day. After you were done with the preparations, you opened a pack of condom, about to pull it over your length when he clasped his hand over yours. "L-let me do it." He proposed, hands shaking with embarrassment as he took slowly pulled it down to the shaft. You almost laughed because he was making such a big deal out of it, sweating furiously with an ashamed gaze.

"Do you find it dirty to touch it?" You chuckled after watching him for a bit, finding his reactions pretty amusing. "No-no.!! No.. that, I-I'm.." His face heat up again as he tried to find the right words. In the end he decided to just speed up the entire thing, and grabbed the bottle of lube that was in your other hand. Then he squeezed the contents onto your dick and spread it evenly, wondering if this would even fit. After a minute, you grabbed his wrist and scoffed, "are you done playing?" Out of nervousness and excitement he forgot to stick it inside him, looking away in shame before lining the tip up with his hole.

"HnnGgh.. this is h-hard.." he complained under his breath, trying his best to take you. You wanted to prepare him first, but he said he wanted the first thing to enter him to be you and not some fingers. Since that was what he wanted, you decided to let him be. That's what led to your current situation, where he's desperately poking his entrance with your dick. “NghhHg..! Ah, f-feels good..” Finally he managed to take your tip, already panting like he had ran a marathon. "Good job." You praised him, then caressed his soft thighs. They were covered by his clothes, which annoyed you a little, so you gripped his hips and butt before slamming him down your cock. "AhhHGGgNN.!? AahHH..! H-hurts.." He moaned out loudly, then slumped against your chest, fingers clawing at you for support.

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, his body shivered at the sudden impact. You were stretching him so much, he could swear his butt was going to tear. At the same time he was so happy, enjoying this to the fullest. His insides were working overtime, trying to accommodate your thickness and length, his rim clenching and loosening up with each inhale. He made such sinful noises when your hands squeezed his snatched waist, to the point you wondered if he was telling the truth earlier. After waiting for him to stop holding onto you like his life depended on it, you cupped his cheeks, making him look up at you. “Look here, fyodor, tell me how good it feels.” Then you grind your hips against his.

The movements were minimal, you didn’t make him ride you yet, only pushing it slightly deeper inside him. Yet the reaction was better than expected. He arched his back, throwing his arms around your neck out of reflex and whined, “ahHhH!! I-i love it, god, it’s so NGhh m-my insides are tingling..♡” You clicked your tongue, grabbing his butt to have a better grip and praised him, “so good for me.. there’s to turning back now, you don’t mind sinning for me, right?” He didn’t even think twice before saying, “I’ll do whatever you want me to..!”

After getting his permission, you told him to hold onto you tightly. Once he did as you commanded, you manhandled him and made him go up and down your dick. Your little worshipper wasn’t particularly short, rather, he was unusually light. He couldn’t even keep a straight face composure anymore, crashing against you once again as he moaned into your ears. Poor boy was crying due to the overwhelming pleasure, thighs trying to close together in a twitching manner and toes curled off the ground. Drool dripped down his chin and soaked your clothes, all while he moaned out your Titel.

“L-lord, god.. ah, please!! S-slow down.. ngHh, too much, too big..♡♡” his voice became higher with each trust, and bruises began to form around his hips because of your rough grip. “Didn’t you say I can do what I want?” You reminded him, licking your lips when you saw his melting face. How those beautiful water drops raced down his cheeks like soft rain against a window. His pupils even formed little hearts to match that pleasure-ridden gaze in his eyes. Most of his bangs stuck to his forehead, the rest of his hair bounced around whenever you made him ride you.

Then you said fuck it and ripped his priest robe, so that you’d have more access to his skin. “Hu-hUHmnn..?! M-my lord! AhhHNN!!” He shrieked when he noticed one of your hand on his inner thighs, pinching and groping his skin. “W-why there..? Nghhh…” Fyodor groaned, a tad embarrassed by the intimate touch. His deity was touching him after all. Alone the thought of you, his one and only god, fucking him and using him was enough to get him to the verge of cumming.

More precum leaked from his shameless tip, soiling the back of your hand. “M-m’sorry, so-sorry..ah, for being d-dirty..!” He immediately apologised, holding your wrist weakly and bringing it to his lips. Then he slowly licked off the pre, using kitten licks that looked so inexperienced and adorable that you had to tease him more. Sticking your finger into his mouth and snapping your hips against his. Fastening your pace, going rougher and deeper, rutting into him like he was some fleshlight. At this point his petite body won’t be able to take it! He’s so slim and vulnerable, it’d be a shame to break his mind and make him your toy, wouldn’t it?

“MhmMNN… ah, r-right there..Nghh, too f-fast, g-god! feels good~ ♡” Fyodor mewled into your ears, squeaking as he tried to shake his ass for you. But he was more on the passive side, letting you move his body however you saw fit. His sloppy and slutty hole was making squelching noises whenever you bottom out in him, all sticky with lube already. You were so caught up in the moment, you weren’t even sure what you were doing. All you knew was you wanted to touch him, to feel up his figure and trace the outlines of his body. Then you kissed his neck, causing him to whimper uncontrollably. “Hnghh… I- mHhm, l-lord help me.. I want more♡ something is coming out..!!” The boy gasped and smiled, grinning satisfied, the expression almost looked dumb.

You did as he asked of you, slamming him down onto your dick harder and trying to hit his sweet spot more often. The way it rubbed and played with his soft and warm walls made him see the light, or he was just about to blank out. “Nghh! F-forgive me.. for my siiiinnns..!! ♡♥︎～” The priest, Fyodor, your exclusive worshipper and toy servant groaned a last time before shooting ropes of cum out of his twitching member. His thick and filthy cum got everywhere. From his ripped clothes to his milky inner thighs and chest. Then he slumped down, pleasure and sensations he never felt before all coursing through him at once. He felt so good, this was the first time he felt this amazing. It must be due to you, because of your blessings.

Oh how lucky he was to serve such a kindhearted and generous god, who was patient enough to show him all this bliss. This was heavenly~ His body was still a shaking, twitching mess. The lingering ecstasy making him sob and moan louder. After giving him a gift this great, he will have to serve you even more diligently and wholeheartedly! He will make sure to worship and treasure whatever you gave him!

Even you had to catch up your breath since the session was so intense, panting a little while still admiring him. You were still inside him, and he was clenching down onto you without letting you pull out. Then you leaned back against the lean of the bench, signing when you realised what you just did. Now you were definitely going to hell. Fucking a priest in the praying halls, were you possessed? Right before you could tell him to get off, since you two had to clean up, he took off his clothes completely. “Huh..? Fyodor?” You whispered in disbelief. Sure, you ruined his robes, but why did he take them off?

It was the first time you saw him entirely naked, and he was as skinny as you noticed him to be. His nipples were all hard and pink, a cute colour in your opinion. A few seconds later, he re-positioned himself in your lap despite his legs giving up under him. Then, he slowly rode you, jumping up and down while wrapping one hand around his shaft. You rushed to stop him, saying, “wait a sec- shouldn’t we, especially you, take a break?” Seriously, for how sickly and pathetic he looks, he had quit the stamina? Instead of obeying you like normally, fyodor smirked obsessively and moaned, “G-god, forgive me for i-indulging..! Ahhh.. I’m so sinful, I deserve punishment. But..!! it’s just so good I can’t stop ♥︎♡.”

What…? Wait- isn’t this priest too slutty…?? It seems you’ll have to suck it up and wait until he milked himself dry on your dick ♥︎

[pomefioredove]

Just read the whole "Yuu gets sold off by Crowley" stories and OMLLL THEYRE SO GOOD XDDD Any chance you could do more on it like if Niege won or if the parents heard about it and also decided to adopt Yuu and Grim?? Maybe the other staff adopting her too or more on Crewel's adoption please???

requests for the crewel ending are in high demand I see...

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending | RSA ending

summary: a crewel ending type of post: short fic, mostly speculation characters: crewel ft. other staff additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, definitely pre-book seven, parents being cringe

If Crewel were allowed to beat Crowley to death with one of his designer handbags, he would have.

...Unfortunately, with the adoption paperwork fees (...and a need for more designer handbags), he regrettably still needs this job.

And he'd like to keep an eye on you while you're still here, too.

The animosity between Crowley and the rest of the staff is unspoken, shared through passing glances and dry remarks at meetings, and though the matter is "settled", in Crowley's own words, no one seems keen on letting it go anytime soon.

The students who participated in the bidding war are subject to months worth of extra homework, harder exams, and worse studying hours from Crewel himself. To teach them a little responsibility, he says.

You, at least, are exempt from his radical new lesson plan. You have enough on your plate as it is.

After all, as soon as the legal proceedings are through and your identity as an autonomous human being in Twisted Wonderland is secured, the "fun" begins.

Your uniforms are tailored and rightly fit, you're given a proper meal plan, even Ramshackle is decorated with a few of Crewel's personal touches. A throw rug here and there, a fresh coat of paint, anything to cover up the rotting interior and turning it into something worthy of envy.

"...Given that Grim doesn't start shedding everywhere," Crewel had said. "Ugh, pets."

The rest of the staff are just as helpful, citing your recent experience with the bidding war as reason to take it easier on you for a while (or for the rest of the semester, really). Trein gives you less homework, Sam "accidentally" doesn't ring you up a few items...

It starts to feel more like the entirety of the staff has adopted you.

Not that you mind, of course. This is the closest thing you've had to family since... well, since coming here.

There's just the one thing, though.

"I don't know why you waste your time with those untrained pups. Honestly. The idea of their tacky shoes touching the rugs in here..." Crewel sighs. His eyes turn to you. "You know, I hear Vil Schoenheit has been looking for someone to take to his next shoot..."

Ashton chuffs. "Don't be ridiculous, they need someone who's strong enough to take care of them! Kingscholar is a real star once he gets motivated,"

"Please tell me I didn't just hear that," Crewel massages his temples. "And might I add, I'm their father, not you. I give the blessing. You're more like the unwelcome uncle crashing the family barbeque."

Grim nudges you with his elbow, muttering a quick yikes before darting out of the kitchen. You groan in embarrassment. "Guys..."

"I'm just thinking about what's best for them," Ashton says, puffing out his chest. "They're at an age where they're going to start thinking about dating, and we want them to make good choices."

"Guys,"

"Exactly. Schoenheit is a perfect gentleman, a master in my class, and has the style to back him up. Kingscholar can demonstrate occasional intelligence, but he's still another housecat," he shudders. "The shedding..."

A tired voice from the doorway interrupts their tense back-and-forth, much to your relief.

"Goodness, the two of you, at this again?" Trein scoffs, taking a seat at the table. "This conversation is highly inappropriate. You shouldn't be controlling the poor thing's romantic prospects, if they even have them. When the time comes, the choice will be theirs to make."

Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. Ashton kicks his feet. And neither utter another word.

"Good," Trein says, then clears his throat. "Ahem. But that's not to say that we can't offer our guidance. That Vanrouge did quite well on the last History of Magic exam..."

You groan.

[mixelation]

have another dumb girl minato au:

okay you know how in async kushina is like "sorry i figured out i'm gay. i like you but you're just not a pretty girl." what if. instead of breaking up and crying. instead. minato was like: "but i could be 👀"

okay so here is where the au gets dumb

the majority of minato's concept of sex and gender is from icha icha. so she's like "okay the way to change my physical sex is to hit up my local ninja mad scientist, obviously" so she goes to orochimaru

orochimaru, staring back at his rival for hokageship: orochimaru, realizing he is being given a unique opportunity to sabotage said rival: orochimaru: orochimaru, completely genuine: actually i have always wanted to try this--

minato is running back and forth between kushina and orochimaru going WHAT TYPE OF GIRL DO YOU LIKE, KUSHINA

minato fully wants kushina to play dress up doll with her. please, kushina? please???

danzo: (sneaks into orochimaru's lab) hey you should toooootally be doing all those highly unethical experiments you proposed. me and the council will back you up and fund you and nothing bad will happen, promise orochimaru, elbow deep in girl juice and illegal girl jutsu: shush i am transing genders

jiraiya comes back to the village one day and is like "wait does minato have boobs. how long have those been there?" however he does not get far in this line of thought because orochimaru wanders by with k cups. he has been playing around with different physical changes to his body, like you do. his conclusion is that tsunade is having a bad time

minakushi get married. minato still becomes hokage. orochimaru is kind of annoyed but doesn't go missing-nin because he's following minato around with more girl-no-jutsus to try. c'mon minato this is for SCIENCE

minato 2 orochimaru: can you get me pregnant? orochimaru: orochimaru: excuse me minato: yeah cuz it's dangerous is kushina has a baby but we want one........

obito shows up to rip the kyuubi out of kushina except kushina isn't even pregnant. minato is a pretty lady. perhaps kakashi is also a pretty lady, why not. everyone is a pretty lady. obito is like "hey, what"

obito: ...................can i be a pretty lady 👀

orochimaru never leaves konoha and instead becomes the sort of morally dubious fairy godmother he deserves to be

[paradox-the-unimpressed-nun]

Small NSFW & SFW headcannons Human!Muzan x Reader

Warning: ⚠️ NSFW, Blow job, handjob, some fluff, Muzan is gender fluid (canon), sexual nudity, submissive!Muzan, dom!reader, 69

A/N: Hey it’s me, I kinda lost my will to write so yeah…but the new Kny leaks has given me a little motivation. So yeah here y’all go

SFW

𓇢𓆸 You were one of Muzans assigned caretakers, at first he hated you. He hates everyone but he definitely didn’t like you, he had no reason he just did.

𓇢𓆸 He made your life so hard, he refused to do anything you asked of him. It would be little things, like asking him to lift up his arms so you bathe him or if he could please hold still so you could brush his hair: stuff like that

𓇢𓆸Eventually he stopped resisting after he started noticing his hygiene getting poor. He still was rude and snappy though.

𓇢𓆸Soon he just said nothing at all, you didn’t Interest him and you didn’t annoy him so he guessed you’re alright. You were putting a cold cloth over his puffy eyes and he told you “you’re not my favorite caretaker but….you’re the one I tolerate the most” you told him thank you

𓇢𓆸You didn’t start bonding until you caught him using his food as lipstick. You left only for a little bit to wash up and to your surprise you see him using the red tea to dye is lips. You kinda just stood there in shock, Muzan noticed you and was very flustered. He yelled at you to leave and threw a plate at you.

𓇢𓆸 Very bluntly you asked him if he would like to ware makeup or at least tried. He talked over you the entire time saying that it was nothing. Only stopping when you asked if he wanted to borrow your lipstick, he went quiet and said yes.

𓇢𓆸 There started your bounding. Muzan always stood very still when you would apply the lipstick not wanting to accidentally mess it up. Afterwards he would start at himself in the mirror carefully examining himself as you would hold the mirror for him. After sometime he would ask if you thought he looked pretty if he looked like a lovely young woman.

𓇢𓆸It was a everyday thing were you would come in and put lipstick on him, then it became a every other day thing, then every other week and so on so forth. After sometime he would ask if you would apply powder to his face, do his hair and let him borrow your clothes.

𓇢𓆸On days he went all out he would ask you to refer to him as a woman and you did. Other days he went by male. You had to admit he did make a very lovely woman.

𓇢𓆸you gained some muscle while being his caretaker, he would ask if you could help him go outside. It usually ended up with you carrying him around the property. He is light but as a caretaker you didn’t really do lifting, you got used to it.

𓇢𓆸Rainy days is his favorite, the sun isn’t in his eyes and the garden looks very lovely. He would ask you to put him down put still hold onto him so he could jump into a puddle (he wanted to see what all the fuss was about)

𓇢𓆸 Muzan often ask you do certain things so he can understand or experience them. Example he would ask you to hug him because he wanted to know what it felt like. Or for you to hold his hand or dance with him (it didn’t last long, he can barely stand)

𓇢𓆸One day he ask for you to kiss him, he’s never been kissed before and he wanted to experience it before he dies. You did and he asked if you could do it again and again and again and again…

NSFW

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆Remeber how I mentioned he wanted you to help him experience certain things? Yeah it soon got dirty. You started with kissing with tongue, he wasn’t good at it but he got the hang of it.

*ੈ𑁍༘Muzan asked you if he could see your breast, you said yes. You would undo your top and sit in front of him giving him a good view of your chest. Then he asked if he could touch and of course you said yes.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ he’s never touched a boob before so this was very new to him, you had to guide his hand and show him how to properly grope a woman. You would tell him where he should touch and which parts are most pleasurable.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ On Muzans fem days he would ask if you would grope him as if he was a female with breast. You would and you discovered his chest is sensitive. Taking it a step further you would kiss down to his neck then to his chest. Telling him woman like it when men take special care to their chest. He took a mental note of that.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ Muzan asked you if you would jerk him off he needed to know what it would feel like if it was someone else’s hand. You would him against your chest and you slowly stroke your hand up and down his hand. He would whimper into you breast as tears fell down his face. He was in Heaven.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆You were the one to suggest giving him a blowjob, he was a little confused on why you would want to do that but soon understood. This was definitely his favorite, the warm heat of your mouth and skill full tongue on his sensitive member drove him insane. He would cage you in between his legs and his arms wrapped around your head holding you in place.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ He liked to cum in your mouth as he wanted the feeing of your mouth to last as long as possible. Not that you mind he never lasted long and didn’t cum a bunch so you were okay.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆I guessed I should have mentioned that Muzan can only last one round

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆Muzan asked if you could sit on his face as he wanted to return the favor. It didn’t last long as Muzan complained that he couldn’t breathe and you were too heavy, sure you were plump but so was everyone woman at the time. You were very disappointed and muzan is skillful with his tongue.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆you offered to ride him as you both were ready for full on intimacy but that didn’t last long either. Again he complained that you were too heavy but to his credit he tried to hold out to the end.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆You both came to a compromise though, you would jerk him off and he would would finger you. That was the best you were gonna get and you both made the best of it.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆he actually came up with a better position for you both. He asked if he could lay ontop of you head on opposite sides. You were confused and he was honestly confused but you did it and worked very well. He was able to finally give you pleasure while at the same time you could do the same.

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆The vibrations of his moans against your clit made your legs wobble. Muzan understands that he doesn’t last long and he wants to cum with you, so he would suck on the nub and finger you.

A/N: idk what else to add so here y’all go 😭✌️ also thank you lovely’s for 900 followers I really appreciate all the support 🤧

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hey, I saw you take request and so I wanted to ask if you could write some fluff, maybe some Astarion comforting Tav after they went through a panick attack

Gender neutral if possible please, I just had my first ever panick attack and would love some comfort from my fav Vampire <3

- Astarions-Imagine-Archiche [Would love to go off anon but sadly, Tumblr dosent let me send asks through sideblogs]

Hi! Hope you will enjoy it!

FEAR

Sometimes it's just too much to bear TW: A description of a panic attack Tags: hurt \ comfort, gn!reader, nurturing Astarion, post game, established relationship Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Surrounded by a fiery inferno, you sense the escalating heat in the air. The thick layer of fabric shields your skin from immediate harm, yet your body responds almost primally.

Scorching and stifling air leaves you struggling to breathe, and the smoke stings your eyes.

Fire.

An indiscriminate devourer of all, whether mortal or undead, demon or elf, it rages like a starving beast. Discarding your sword, you decide to leap, knowing the flames will only graze your skin a bit.

"Ig-nis!" Astarion's voice rings out, casting a fireball into the necromancer. The half-orc topples, weakening the ring of fire around you. Muscles tense, preparing for the leap, but an abrupt freeze takes over just as your feet are about to propel you forward.

Attempting to move your hand, your brain feels detached, as though subjected to a Mindflayer's experiment. The fire intensifies, yet your legs remain unresponsive. Trapped within the confines of your own body, you are helpless and silent.

It's merely a "hold person" spell, lasting a minute or two or until Astarion dispatches the necromancer. Nothing harmful, nothing scary. The enemy just wants to win some time. 

Immobile, you manage to shift your eyelids just slightly. Astarion is nowhere to be seen while the necromancer looms ten feet before you. Approaching like a ghoul, his eyes scrutinize you as if you're a specimen in a lab.

Astarion. Astarion, where are you? Panic sets in. What if he's wounded, dead, or worse, turned into a mindless ghoul under a new master's control?

The necromancer, eyeing you with a sinister hunger, licks his lips. "Pretty creature. You will serve me well once you die."

His touch on your right temple triggers another memory—a Mindflayer's pod, helplessness, fear, disgust. A tadpole approaching your eyelid.

If you could scream, you would. 

"What is your worst nightmare?" the sorcerer whispers, casting the second spell.

Suddenly, you're back in the Nautiloid. A Mindflayer cracks your skull open, and the scent of burning bone fills the air. The monster probes your bare brain, and it sprouts thin black legs. Your organ is no longer yours; it's an intellect devourer.

A vision unfolds. Astarion's body writhes and transforms into a Mindflayer. "Don't do this to me. I can't do this again!" he cries for help until his face explodes, tentacles burst forth. 

You fall again, from the Nautiloid to the seashore, but the Emperor is unwilling to save you. Your spine breaks on the rocks.

Baldur's Gate. The day of the attack. The Nautiloid inches forward, missing Astarion, who escapes to the sewers. You'll never see him again; he's condemned to be his new master's slave.

No, no, please, no, gods help me.

Suddenly, the fear releases its grip, your hands and legs regain movement, and you collapse onto the scorched ground. 

"Fuck!" you curse. "Fuck you, bastard!" 

The necromancer lies dead. Fat flies crawling on his rotten flesh.

"Well, someone needs to learn how to dodge”, Astarion chuckles. “Next time, it'll be something more dangerous, like a power word spell or a death finger. Instant death, and you're resurrected as a ghoul," strong hands lift you up, and you stand on your feet once again.

"Where have you been," you mutter, your voice trembling.

He pulls away. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't see you. I thought you were dead. Where were you?"

"Darling, I made sure to disappear from his decayed eyes. I prefer an advantage when the enemy... let's say... has their ways with the undead and the dead." He tilts your chin up, making you look into his crimson eyes. 

If you weren't as tired and numb, guilt might settle in. That's how he fights—no knight, no warrior. He hides and attacks when the enemy forgets about him. It's not his fault you were knocked out, but the bitterness lingers in your heart, replacing the fear.

Returning to the small camp silently, you muster the last remnants of your strength to pull off your armor. Astarion sits by the fire with a book, not attempting to join you in the tent. Guilt pervades your thoughts. What if your rudeness jeopardizes the progress, you've made together?

What if you wake up the following day, and he's gone?

Your mind spirals in twisted ways. What if a piece of the tadpole remains in your brain? Powerful creatures aren't to be trusted. What if it's still there, waiting to hatch? What if Astarion harbors one inside his head as well? What if this isn't the end, and unthinkable horrors lie ahead? What if one day you wake up and hear a voice subduing you to some eldritch, horrible, and insane entity?

You feel like you can't breathe. The heart races, heavy as a tombstone, and your hands are numb and cold. The uncertainties weigh on you like a suffocating shroud.

A lump rises in your throat, an unbearable sensation that makes you want to vomit. You press your hands to your chest and breathe heavily as if you are short of air.

Light steps approach from behind. "Darling, your breathing can be heard in a nearby village. What's wrong?" The voice sounds distant, echoing through thick walls. Suddenly, your eyesight blurs, reality becoming an illusion, disconnecting you from your body. The voice sounds unfamiliar and distorted.

Astarion wraps his hands around your waist. "It's okay, everything is alright. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." 

 It still feels unreal, as if someone tries to imitate your lover's voice.

"I- I am…I am dying", you whisper.

"It's just a panic attack, nothing more," he replies. "Let me guess, he casted the fear spell on you? You saw something unpleasant, didn’t you? Illithids, I bet." 

Astarion brushes your hair with pale fingers and then kisses the crown of your head. He gently touches your hand, then your leg. "You are here. You are safe with me. And if someone threatens you, I will rip their throats." He holds you tighter, speaking comforting words. The lines he once used for seduction and manipulation now sound like a weird, soothing spell.

You don't feel your body. You don't understand where you are. You remember the Nautiloid, the blood, the fear. 

You start crying. You haven't cried for ages – first, there was no time to reflect on awful things happening to you. Then, it was Astarion who needed you to be strong because he was a mess after 200 years of abuse and sudden freedom he didn't dream of having. But now it’s you who is overwhelmed and scared.

"Hush, everything is okay. You are safe with me," Astarion whispers.

Suddenly, you come to your senses. The racing heart subsides, and the looming horror fades.

You breathe freely. Astarion strokes your hair. "Feeling better?"

You nod and find the strength to sit up. "What can I do for you, my love?" Astarion asks.

Licking your dry lips, you realize the intense need for water causing your dizziness. Before you can utter a word, the vampire reaches for a flask. In three big gulps, you drain the bottle and collapse onto your back in the tent. The thick black fabric, enchanted with the "darkness" spell, feels like a reassuring wall, offering a sense of safety rather than claustrophobia.

Astarion lies beside you, wrapping his hands around your waist. But instead of pressing his face against your collarbone as usual, he pushes against his chest. If he were alive, you would hear his heartbeat. 

"I am just—I don't know—afraid?" you finally admit. "I'm afraid this Illithid madness isn't over, and something is stuck in our brains waiting for the right moment. I'm afraid to die. I'm afraid you will die. I'm afraid that one of these powerful creatures we pissed off will come for our souls. I'm afraid you will slip into feral madness, and there's nothing I will be able to do to prevent this."

He presses you even tighter. "You are a very brave little thing, you know that?" he finally says. "I insist on that. Leading the way from this Illithid madness, letting me close despite knowing who I am. Facing any danger or monster. But sometimes it's just too much, right?"

You nod and receive one more kiss. "I will always be with you; I am not going anywhere. And when it just feels too much, you tell me. I will gladly take a nurturing role. Besides, you've been caring for me for far too long. Time to change roles."

Slowly, you drift into sleep, the last thing you remember before slipping away being Astarion whispering, "I am lucky to have you."

--

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive

[gor3sigil]

About being a freak, queer, trans etc.

In all the years I've spent going back and forth with my gender, being sure one day and unsure the next about how I wanted to present, if I wanted to be more fem or masc, if I wanted to be neither of them, there's one thing that I never wished: I never wished to be born cis.

There's something so magical in being trans. To me it's like a never ending childlike wonder of myself and others. I see my body as a white canvas I can do anything with and as a playground for me to explore and find secrets at every turn. It's shedding so many times that I had hundreds of silhouettes and I'm not even 30. It's seeing the most deepest and honest smiles when you hang out with your peers, and they're fully themselves and you are fully yourself even if it's just for one moment.

Being trans is being more naked than ever. My understanding of my own flesh at its core like I'm dissecting it once a year is so whole and complete. Noticing the patterns, the intricate map of my skin, how it grows and stretch with every change even well before HRT as I was practicing new poses and expressions and clothes.

I don't see myself as a flower, I see myself as a whole garden, with bees and critters everywhere, bursting with life in the warmth of the sun under a sky as blue as the cleanest seas.

Regarding the way others see me, mind you, I always was, and I mean ALWAYS, all my life, seen as a freak.

Try to picture this, even tnough you maybe can because this is the story of a whole bunch of us: growing up as a goth, queer and undiagnosed autistic girl, in a little shitty town, the last child of a family of disabled and neurodivergent folks that everyone saw as a family of, well, freaks. The teachers at school knew your brother who was bullied, and your sister who always caused troubles. They don’t know which of these paths you’re going to take but they sure as hell don’t like you. And the only other queer kids you know are a couple of girls who’d chugg down vodka before class in middle school because they were not accepted at home and bullied during recess.

My first queer relationship, also in middle school, was the typical “I loved her to the moon and back but she only wanted to experiment” and it tore down my soul. It took me years to recover from this. I think that, apart from my longest relationship to date, I never put that much of myself into someone I loved. But she was just goofing around and I mean, fair, we were kids, but man did it hurt. I resented her for years after. Now I just hope she’s happy and doing the job she always dreamed of doing.

Anyways, all that to say that I was used to being seen as an outcast. I hated that for years and tried and tried again and again to fit in. It doesn’t work. Because this in not the answer. Remember when I said that my family members were always all disabled ? My father espacially was physically disabled (and probably also autistic but undiagnosed), and he’s still to this day one of the most ableist person I’ve ever met. He knew his kids weren’t “normal”. He fought tooth and nails for us to fit in. Because that’s how he survived. But despite it all, it never worked. Because you can’t force your way into society’s standards.

I never felt more free than when I just gave up trying to. If I was going to be seen as weird anyways, might as well go all the way. Dress as I please, date who I wanted (another story for another time but it didn’t go as planned), enjoy the shit I enjoyed, unapologetically. And guess what ? It stopped the bullying. Because I gained confidence in myself and most of all, pride. I grew proud of being an outcast, so much so that people just started to be like “well, they’re like that anyways” and left me the fuck alone.

I’m rambling lmao but I think it’s important to be aware that nobody will live your life for you. Being your weird self, it’s so hard, butn so rewarding. More rewarding than anything. You’ll start making new relationships based on you TRUE self, you’ll go all the way for your passions, and trust me, you’ll be more free than anyone who bent themselves to fit in the mold and still need to painfully stretch their limbs everyday to keep the act on.

I know that sometimes it’s something you have to do to survive, and that’s perfectly okay. But don’t forget to keep your true self close and to let them out from time to time, okay ? Water down your inner garden. That’s the only way you will truly live.

[naughtybg3confessions]

So in case anyone missed it, tomorrow I'm planning on doing a 'Ladies' Night' where I post a large number of confessions exclusively about the female characters.

However, I just realized that if I post all the confessions about female characters chronologically for Ladies' Night, that will mean we'll have a long period of time thereafter where all the confessions will be about the guys. So I guess what I'm gonna do is just pick them in random order. That means if you send in any confessions about the ladies now, there's a chance they'll get posted tomorrow!

Of course, ladies' night is for confessors of all genders and sexualities. But I just wanted to say, from what I can glean from the survey results- a not insignificant number of our followers are sapphic! Yet so few confessions of that nature get sent here. I haven't yet analyzed the data to confirm my theory, but I suspect our WLW followers might be more hesitant to share. Given my experience in that community, I know there's a lot of repression/shyness due to internalized homophobia, comphet, and fearing sounding like a creep (because we understand better than most how much women have to deal with those already).

I'm under no delusion that this is anything more than a silly fandom blog, but if my hunch is right and I can convince even one of you to embrace your desires without shame- I certainly hope I can! Please speak your truth- it's all anonymous, and I'm here to celebrate you!! <3 Go forth and admit you wanna fuck Karlach already!

[faggy--butch]

Really confused by your "lesbian trans men" post. The way I think of "lesbian", it's not a term of identity signification, it's a term for a specific type of sexual orientation and relationship.

It doesn't make sense that someone can be a "lesbian trans man" to me, because they are a trans man first, that is their identity. And because of that identity of being male, they are disqualified from being in a lesbian relationship, because a lesbian relationship is specifically female/female.

I'm not a terf, fuck terfs. A trans woman and a cis woman in a relationship are still lesbians. I'm just confused how a trans man can be a lesbian if he's not a woman. If the trans man is attracted to women, wouldn't that make him heterosexual, therefore straight? I'd understand if he was genderfluid, then he would swap back and forth from straight to lesbian depending on which gender he/she is.

The way I look at it, there are two "categories" of being queer. Identity and orientation. Identity comes first, it's what you are. Orientation comes second, it's what you're into. Identity is stuff like being cis, trans, genderfluid, etc. Orientation is stuff like being straight, gay, bi, ace, etc. And in my mind those two categories are completely separate, except where the orientation category depends on the larger identity category, such as "lesbian" being an orientation applicable to women into women, not applicable to men, trans or otherwise.

Please, educate me if I'm completely wrong in thinking about queerness this way, and why.

Well, I think your first mistake was trying to categorize queerness. Queerness by definition defies the boxes that get put on gender and sexuality. That's part of why a lot of people like calling themselves and the community queer, it's all encompassing. I also take issue with sexuality 'only' being an orientation. I certain identify as a lesbian, my sexual identity is just as important to me as my gender identity. I don't just "like girls" which what orientation is. I'm a lesbian, a dyke, it's a part of who i am. it's the way i define myself along with being butch, and to some people their sexual identity can be even more important than their gender one. To some people their gender identity is in fact lesbian.

You have to get it out of your mind that if something doesn't make sense, that it's wrong. It's not for anyone to tell a person what they can or can't identify as, or if they're misgendering themselves or whatever. I mean go to the HER app and you'll figure out quick that there are trans men in lesbian spaces, identifying as lesbians, there always have been.

Trying to fit trans people into the cishetro view of the world is not only never going to work, but it also actively hurts us. It's saying that we HAVE to be like them, we have to emulate our experiences off of the "real" genders and sexualities of white cishet people. that we have to match or we're doing it wrong, that it's not real until we're like them. As a non binary person i reject that entirely. I don't want people to tell me what they think I am, and I'm not going to do it to anyone else. I think everyone would benefit from learning about multigender, multisexual, and the split attraction model, and like talking to intersex people.

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐃 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: minor spoilers, everyone is over the age of 18. Their names are linked with my fancast as well xx

Warnings: kidnapping, well more so mentions of kidnapping?

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Confident & Flirty (Rhaenyra) x Has Never Been Flirted With Before, Thinks They're Just Being Nice (You)

・It was her father’s idea to cease the feud and move forward. To start fresh. 

・To have the both of you ... spend time together. 

・ You to visit King’s Landing and Rhaenyra to visit your home

・Rhaenyra was adamant that she was still able to choose her partner, so this is what Viserys came up with 

・Platonic, romantic, it didn’t matter what came out of the time together, just as long as things were learnt and traditions were honoured 

・Daemon wasn’t happy with this, but Rhaenyra...well she was fine with it

・Until she realised just how sheltered you grew up, and knew you weren’t going to be as wild as she

・There was a mutual understanding about your new “friendship”, that you both played along while everyone was watching but when their backs were turned, you acted as you pleased

・Both of you thought the other was weird in some way

・But with time, you... fell into platonic love

・Protecting the other from slanderous accusations as well

・You did each other’s hair, picked clothing for one another

・Opened up about your thoughts, your feelings - not just about this situation but about ... everything. The world and all its wonders, its evils. 

・Talking about your maesters and what you’ve been taught - how you’ve been taught, what your favourite things are/your special interests

・The absolute best thing that happened was riding Syrax though

・The dragon, a gorgeous burnt orange beauty, was hesitant for the first half an hour. 

・It was well known that Syrax was a tad ... moody

・The weather had to be right for her to go out flying

・So when you sat down on the sandy, dusty ground of the dragonpit and ...spoke to her, she was rather startled

        “...had a good sleep Syrax?” 

・You said it so casually

・Rhaenyra burst into laughter, but made sure you wouldn’ be able to hear her. She wasn’t expecting this interaction. Her fearsome dragon, crouching down to look you in the eye, her tail flicking back and forth. Like some sort of interested cat.

・But you continued on, not caring about the world around you

  “To be honest, I didn’t. I’ve been a bit nervous about today. And it’s completely okay if you don’t want to take me up.”

・But Syrax was more than happy to take you flying, in fact, she flew farther and longer than usual

・It was one of the best experiences you had ever had 

・And soon Rhaenyra’s romantic love followed

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Excited ALL. THE. TIME. (Harwin) X Oh God I Cannot Be Falling In Love With This Dipshit (You)

(think Jamie x Claire from Outlander)

・Harwin saw your family’s feud as kinda stupid. He isn’t the type of guy to hold grudges. 

・So when you came into court, with a scowl and a mean look in your eyes, he knew you were going to be fun

・He wouldn’t leave you alone 

・This hulk of a man, with a tinge of red on his cheeks would always find you during feasts and banquets - any reason for celebration, he would be right by your side

・You were fighting feelings inside of you every time Harwin was around

・The way he winked at you from across the hall, always asked for a dance during feasts (even when no one else was dancing), even when you were outside sitting on one of the benches; he would silently sit down beside you and bump his knee to yours 

・It was an internal fight every. single. time. 

・In the beginning you thought maybe he was just teasing you, trying to rile you up, get a rise out of you. Maybe even get you into his bed and then shame you 

・But Harwin was ... so different. To all the other men at court. Or that you’d met. Even different to your family; your brothers, your father. 

・You knew there was some sort of golden light, or ... good seed, inside him. You knew you could truly trust him

・And so you did

・You started to open up to Harwin; stopping the insults and cold exterior

・He didn’t even make fun of you for it - 

・For changing how you interacted with him. Because he knew something about you too. That you were different; like him. 

・You were thankful for that. There was something about opening up that was difficult for you. And having that grace was one of the reason’s why ... you loved Harwin

・There were times when Harwin’s father shook his head and sighed, knowing that your own father (who was the enforcer of the hatred toward the other) would explode if he found out 

・And one day he did

・But you knew exactly who you needed to go to. You knew exactly where to run

・Harwin’s arms were waiting for you, as soon as he saw your face he knew

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Menace To Society (You) x Living Moral Compass (Jace)

・You Confessed Your Love When Thinking He Was Unconscious. There was a lot of history between the two of you - not family related, but friendship related

・You were set to marry someone else and Jacaerys felt like his heart had shattered well and truly

・It was your wedding night, and right before you were going to say your vows, the enemy had hit 

・They took the wedding as the weakest moment to attack

・And the pillar that had crumbled atop Jace made you scream

・Running to him, nearly tripping over the rocks on the floor, you pushed everything that was on him to the side and started to cry 

・You sobbed and sobbed, while holding his body in your hands

・The blood running down his face, you used your clothes to clean him up

     “Don’t die on me, don’t you die on me Jacaerys Targaryen. I love you too much.” 

・Magic words

・Fated words actually

・Because it was destined that the two of you were to be together. Although no one but the stars and the ancestors knew

・Your fiance was shocked by your confession; disgusted, betrayed, but they understood. To some degree, they understood. 

・After the battle had been won, thanks to Daemon and Caraxes, Rhaenyra smiled at the memory. The way you so desperately needed Jace to live. 

・It wasn’t until Jace was in recovery, conscious and healing when Rhaenyra told him what you’d confessed. He had been completely out of it when you’d said those words. 

・Before he had woke, you’d visited him everyday. Bringing flowers, momentos, things you thought he’d like

・You sat and spoke to him, read to him

・But when he awoke, you couldn’t bear to see the look on his face. To look him in the eyes. 

・Rhaenyra had to practically drag you to see him

・Yet, when you did, you ran to each other and embraced so strongly that you nearly fell over

𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Both Wary of Love & Don’t Think This Can Be Real

・Wary doesn’t describe how distant Alicent was with you

・She truly thought of you as an enemy. And when Alicent sees someone as such, well, the interaction is never pleasant

・Because when the two of you were together, something lit up

・It was a pull from both of you; magnetism, and it took everything not to take each other when you were alone 

・But your families had a firm disdain for each other. Which didn’t make sense for the Hightowers’ as they tried to get on with everybody

・And it wasn’t until you and Alicent kept up your interactions that your family were forced to confront their hatred

・You and Alicent continually went behind their backs because your curiosity outweighed your dislike

・Why did your families hate each other? Where did it start? Why can’t it stop?

・The usual obedient Alicent was heavily influenced by you. Who had a warriors heart - you were brave, braver than many family members who came before you

・And you built a bridge with Alicent. 

・Even if she didn’t want to, you were adamant that you could rectify the wrongs that had plagued your family for generations

・Because if you didn’t, then your family would crumble into nothing

・Alicent didn’t know this. That you had more motive than curiosity to build friendship

・And she did eventually find out the true meaning behind your interactions

・But instead of being angry, she shocked herself by being ... impressed

・You had a drive that she had seen. But that drive wasn’t to better yourself, but to keep your family alive

・She loved it. Ambition, but not for yourself. For the ones you loved. 

・And that’s why she went against her father’s wishes, and kept seeing you. 

・The two of you were practically super sleuthing as neither of your family members’ would tell the same version of events

・So digging up you went, searching for answers, interviewing family and trying not to be too suspicious

・And during this time, Alicent started to develop a crush on you. A hardcore crush on you... 

・Otto soon found out and banned you from seeing each other. 

・But one taste of rebellion and that’s all Alicent needed to go against her father’s wishes ... again

・After finding out what actually happened, you went to Alicent to show her your findings and when you explained what happened, she flung her arms around you and gave you a kiss

𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Complete And Utter Badass, Rather Monstrous (Daemon) x Their Ray Of Light Who Has Them Wrapped Around Their Finger (You)

・Only someone as badass as you could grab Daemon’s attention and hold it (not that you cared much for it)

・He had seen you on the battle field, a bow and arrow in hand

・Taking down enemies left and right, and when you entered the battle, every strike ran true. There wasn’t a man alive whenever you swung your sword

・There was something so invigorating about seeing your body move in such violent and graceful ways 

・Daemon knew that no matter where you came from or who you were, you were going to be his 

・So it was a shock to find that you were on the opposing side of the battle

・You hated the Targaryens, namely Daemon who had inadvertedly taken your family from you

・But Daemon saw your abilities and knew he could make you into one of the best fighters there ever was 

・So he ... kidnapped you

・Only to explain why he thought you’d be one of the best warriors Westeros has ever seen

・Under his guidance of course

・It wasn’t until the third night that you accepted. He thought it was because of the ... benefits, that you had accepted. But no, it was because you secretly wanted to slaughter him and his entire family

・However, you played along. Under the gauise of wanting to expand your prospects. You had terms, and the main was that he was never to come near you with desire 

・All was going well; he taught you a lot. Not just about combat, but about yourself, the world and challenged what you thought you knew 

・Your family history wasn’t as straightforward as you had believed. And what more, was that the Targaryens barely had anything to do with your family’s downfall. 

・It had been your own kin who had slain one another

・Brother had turned on brother, and it left you with nothing but a fable 

・Daemon had given you this information because he knew you weren’t training just for the sake of glory. You had something planned and he needed you to know the truth before you took action

・It was difficult to deny your feelings growing for Daemon, whose personality seemed to mesh with yours so well, that even Viserys saw a difference in him

・It was astonishing to see what a focused Daemon could do, and the worries that Viserys had were gone, when he saw how far you’d come

・You became a beacon for Daemon; someone he could go to not to talk, but to train. To let off steam, to go on adventures with (under the pretense off “teaching” you something)

・Caraxes became very familiar with you, and would actively seek you out as well, as he was so disliked amongst the other dragons, that companionship was sparse

・The bond between both beings meant that you often forgot your hatred, which had lessened with each day 

・You soon saw Daemon as a companion, a friend; someone who saw all of you and didn’t shy away. He saw all your darkness, your rage, your violence, chaos, confusion. Everything. He saw everything. 

・And he didn’t shy away

・What brought you together was that you reciprocated this

・You saw Daemon’s violence and didn’t blink an eye (NEVER towards you though)

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐚

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like x Keeps The Rocks

・Your grandfather had a long lasting hatred for the Targaryens. It was personal, but it kept your family at a distance 

・But your fascination with the Targaryens was always prevalent throughout your childhood

・And whenever you brought them up, your family would shush you. Telling you that you aren’t supposed to ask anything about them

・But it wasn’t until after your grandfather’s death that your family was invited to court by Viserys

・As it turns out, Viserys had been sending invitations for years but your grandfather was declining every single one

・And when your family finally accepted, Viserys ordered there to be a huge feast awaiting for your arrival

・You weren’t expecting this, but your eager eyes were looking for something in particular. 

・But you didn’t expect that certain thing to be kept chained in a pit 

・When you were in the throne room, being introduced to Viserys’ children, the news about the dragons was disappointing

・And a young Targaryen woman shared that same disappointment 

・Around the same age as you, the two of you would have quickly been pushed together. To get to know each other, but both your families knew how ... peculiar you both were, and were adamant that the two of you should be left apart. Since they were scared their offspring would say or do the wrong thing 

・But somehow you bumped into each other in the castle halls, and in the garden, and somehow ... in the dragonpit 

・Soon you came to know Heleana. Both her physical and emotional quirks

・ And gods, Heleana was one of the sweetest people you have ever met. She wasn’t like the rest of the people you had come across. 

・She understood how your brain worked and you understood hers

・The white-haired woman’s love for you came about because you actually listened to her. You always wanted to know what she thought, what she felt. 

・You actively asked her about her visions, and you believed her. 

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝

(𝒔𝒍����𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘)

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Tough on the Outside, Soft on the Inside (Aemond) x The Top (You)

・Aemond was never the type of person to go against his family’s wishes - especially his mother’s. 

・So when he found you underneath his bed, waiting to attack, he found it quite amusing. 

    “Your name, what is it?” He had snarled, still in his night clothes. 

“My name is of no importance to a dead man.”

   “I see no dead men here.”

・And then somehow he had you pinned on the floor, knife at your throat and white hair like a curtain. All you could see was Aemond’s face; pink tight-lips, pale face, his one good blue eye and his other eye socket was empty, his sapphire orb lay on his bedside table. 

・Your body reacted in a way you did not wish it to 

・You blushed

    “Big bad assassin,” Aemond whispered, the cold blade still pressed against your throat. You could feel his weight and as you started to whisper back, you used it to your advantage. 

・Moving your legs so they were around his waist, you stunned him with a kiss and in one fluid moment, you flipped him over and pinned his arms above his head

    “Remember,” you panted, “I’m always on top.” 

・It was then that Aemond realised he was in trouble

・Because your blade didn’t slice, nor did it cut. It clattered to the side as you got up and left 

・The next day your House was introduced to court and Aemond did everything he could not to react

・You were the direct heir to your House, and when you spotted Aemond in the Throne room, all you could do was smirk. He had no idea. No idea that you were now going to live in King’s Landing - in the castle itself

・Those months were excruciating for Aemond, not just because he thought you were going to kill him at any moment, but because you acted as if he was nothing at all. Nothing more than a Prince. 

・You bowed when you walked passed him, stood when he entered a room

・It became a common occurence for Aemond to look under the bed. To see if his little nightmare was real

・And all the while, you watched from afar, a delighted smile on your face

・It took 6 months of Aemond to make his move. It had to be well thought out of course

・He couldn’t just try anything. No. It needed to be the perfect plan, one that would both out and villainise you

・But again, unbeknownst to the One Eyed Prince, you were three steps ahead

・He hated you; he loved this game even though he tried to hide it and in turn ... he ... loved ... you

・It was a horrible realisation. One that Aegon, of all people, pointed out to him

・And Aemond avoided you (yes, like the plague)

・It took two weeks, that’s all he could bare - of not looking at you, not hearing your voice, your laugh 

・And when he went to leave his chambers to seek you out, you were already at his door...

𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Arranged Marriage

・He had been sent to Oldtown and had no idea that you would be there too

・Otto had arranged your marriage; your father agreeing to it only under the circumstances of equal opportunity

・You were emblazed with anger

・And on your wedding day, you had screamed and cried and fought until it was time to walk down the aisle 

・Your father explained how important this marriage was. This alliance would bring safety to your House, and it was in that moment that you knew what you had to do

・You had never seen Daeron before, but heard of the story of how he got his name, “The Daring.”

・And the fact that it was nationally know that he was the most likeable out of the Targaryen brothers... 

・You knew your father had bargained for him rather than Aemond, who was harsh and unforgiving 

・Daeron stood at the end of the aisle, a charming smile on his boyish face. 

・ I can do this, you thought triumphantly, I can, I will. 

・When the ceremony was over and the reception was done, you were escorted to your marriage bed with Daeron, who had made every effort to make you feel comfortable 

・While alone together, in your shared room, with the fire blazing, Daeron’s kind smile did not change. There was no flip of personality or loss of kindness. 

・You soon realised that what you saw in Daeron is what is truly there 

・And you felt safe with him

・Which made it even harder to hate him. 

・With each insult you slung his way, he seemed to side step it

・And when you realised that the Prince wasn’t going to hurt you, or take you away from your family or traditions...things started to change for you. You saw him as he is. Golden hearted. 

・Life with Daeron is full of sunshine, blue skies and love

・Meeting Tessarion was a big experience and one that you will never forget. 

・Through the bond she knew your relationship with Daeron, and was apprehensive about you but allowed you to clamber onto her anyway. 

・Considering she was one of the younger dragons, she had incredible speed and stamina. 

・That ride bonded all three of you. Making you feel closer to Daeron, wanting him...the seed of desire had started to grow

[aew-kun-age-regression]

Hey! I was wondering if I could put in a request for a Cg!Stucky x Little!Reader (where the reader uses they/them pronouns), and Steve and Bucky want to take y/n to meet the rest of the Avengers for the first time. However y/n has sensory processing issues, so meeting so many (loud) people at once is very jarring, so a meltdown or shutdown occurs.

Maybe include Peter being autistic himself so he understands what y/n is going through and can help them out.

Hi Darling! I am so sorry this request took me so long to do. Everytime I've gone to write it I've ended up slipping! But I've finally got it finished and I really hope you enjoy this <3 Thank you for your patience!!

"Loud"

Pairings: Caregiver!Stucky x Little!Reader, Platonic!Peter x Little!Reader.

Summary: When reader is taken to meet her caregivers colleagues and friends it all gets a bit much. Thankfully there's a helpful spider boy.

Warnings: Small meltdown?, nicknames (Stevie, Doll, Dorogoy, Pete, Kiddo.)

(Dorogoy - Sweetheart )

‼️I would like to say that I'm writing from experience, when it comes to autism not everyone reacts the same way.‼️

(Gender neutral reader)

‼️ THIS IS NOT NSFW ‼️

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NOT Proofread

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Tony was throwing another one of his parties. For once it seemed he actually had a reason to do so. After months of Steve and Bucky being your caregivers the three of you had spoken about you meeting the rest of the Avengers. So the Tony Stark agreed to throw a party with only the Avengers.

Bucky was driving whilst Steve sat in the back of the car with you, drawing small circles onto your palms while whispering comforting words.

It didn't take long before the three of you were making your way up the lift, into where the party was taking place.

"If it gets too much just let me or Stevie know alright Doll?" Bucky said quietly, bouncing you slightly in his arms.

You nodded into his shoulder when Steve took your hand and asked you a question.

"And can you tell me what you say if someone trys to hug or touch you when you don't want touch?"

"Please don't touch me right now I don't want touch. I don't mean it to be rude I just need space right now" You recited back to the two of them.

"Well done Dorogoy, that's perfect." Bucky praised, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

The lift doors opened and the three of you were at where the party was.

You had been sitting on the floor infront of the coffee table, colouring for the past 10 minutes. You had been introduced to everyone about an hour ago and were quickly getting overwhelmed. Steve and Bucky decided to let you do your own thing for a while as to not completely overwhelm you. So as you coloured the Avengers talked. Pretty much everyone was at the party, everyone except Thor.

It didn't take much longer before Thor arrived, his brother following in tow. Thor greeted everyone loudly before spotting you.

"Ah! You must be Steve and Buckys little one!!" He practically yelled excitedly approaching you.

He was loud. Really loud. He seemed nice and you didn't think he would hurt you. But he was loud. And it scared you. You quickly got up and ran off before Thor could  approach you properly. Everyone saw this interaction and Bucky and Steve got up panicked on where you had gone.

Loki turned to Thor. "Well done you big oaf. You scared them."

The two brothers began bickering back and forth.

Tony reassured both Bucky and Steve that you would be okay. And you wouldn't go missing withing the compound due to Jarvis being able to find you if need be. This calmed both men down. Everyone starting stealing again, giving you time to calm down before they try to approach and speak to you.

Peter approached Steve and Bucky.

"Can I go find them? I think I might be able to help them calm down."

Bucky and Steve looked between themselves before agreeing and letting the teen go off to find you.

Peter found you quickly and called out to you gently, noticing how you were rocking back and forward slightly.

"Hey little one, it's me Peter. Do remember me? We met earlier"

You looked up to him "Pete..?"

"Yep that's me. Are you okay?"

"Is too loud..." you mumbled.

"It really was wasn't it..."

You just nodded saying nothing else.

"Can I tell you something?"

You again nodded at Peter.

"I have something called autism. Do you know what that is?"

"A little" you responded.

Peter smiled at the progress you were making, taking note that you were no longer rocking back and forward.

"Well I won't overwhelm you with all the details Kiddo but one of the issues I have because of my autism is I get overwhelmed with loud noises."

This caught your attention.

"Do you know what that's like?" Peter asked trying to see if that's the only thing that caused your small meltdown earlier.

"Mhm.. loud is icky."

Peter laughed a little. "Loud noises can be icky can't they? They don't have to be though." He smiled at you.

"Cuddle..?"

"Of course Kiddo. Come here"

Leaning back against the wall Peter carefully placed you in his arms. You buried your head in his tshirt and withing minutes you were asleep. It didn't take long before Peter joined you asleep.

After a while the Avengers decided to go find you and now Peter. They arrived where Jarvis told them the two of you were to find you cuddled up to Peter, in his arms. Whilst Peter cradled you protectively.

They all smiled looking at the new bond the two of you made and the amount of progress you had both made.

[oleander-nin]

The Weight of a Letter

A/N: And we're back! Hi! Sorry for the long hiatus, the story is(hopefully) finally all figure out. I'm going to try and post a chap every other Wednesday, but we'll see how that goes. Apologies in advance, I completely failed Donnie's personality, and this seems kinda rushed, but I promised Wednesday, so here you go. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Words: 2327

Content warnings: Not much for this chap??? Mentions of mutation, reader watching Donnie, staring, my writing, multi-chap fic

Summary: The first one I received was innocent. Nothing more than a love letter from a secret admirer. But as more letters came, so did the fear and paranoia. Guess secret admirers aren't so romantic after all.

Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger

Chapter One: A First Glance

The familiar worn-down sign of Repo-Mantis’ junkyard brought a smile to my face, the broken motorcycle I was pushing creaking with each turn of its wheels. I glance around while I walk through the gate, trying to spot the purple mantis mutant who owns the yard. I press my lips into a thin line, my head whipping back and forth as I scan the yard for its owner. I had to drop the old motorcycle off today, I couldn’t wait any longer. If I didn’t do it today, I knew my parents would throw a hissy fit, and I really didn’t want to get grounded right before they left town.

 I frown, not seeing him around. I set the motorcycle by the old shack he calls his office, dusting off my pants as I begin to aimlessly walk around, my eyes peeled for the owner. My head snaps to the side as I hear the familiar sound of someone digging through the junk, metal hitting metal in loud clangs and clashes. I walk towards the sound, my footsteps making a dull thud against the ground every time I take a step. Maybe it was Repo, digging through his junk for some coin he dropped again. Rounding a trash pile, I saw what was digging through the piles of junk. Their back was turned to me, the purple armor thing on his back opening as two thin metal poles came out and started helping the mutant search.

I look in awe, half-hiding behind the pile of junk as I watch the mutant at work. I couldn’t believe there were more out there. Especially one who was both pretty and looked to be my age. I thought Repo and the odd villain was all there was. I felt a bit bad. I saw Ruppert Swaggert mutate on TV. Twice. Plus, Repo’s own stories he had told me after hours of my begging. I can’t imagine it was a pleasant experience, having his humanity ripped away to become a mutant. Sure, he was pretty as a mutant, but most preferred not being outcasts. I was just glad the Government wasn’t rounding them all up.

I snap myself out of my thoughts, returning to watch the mutant at work as I pretend I wasn’t being a total creep. His focus was sharp as he inspected every piece he picked up before either storing it in his armor thing or throwing it onto another pile. I tilt my head, studying him. He seemed so… Intense? I couldn’t place it, but he seemed to be completely immersed in the junk he was sorting through. His head lifts a bit, and I see a glimpse of his face, and the markings on his shoulders. My brow furrows, trying to think. I knew I had seen him before somewhere, but I couldn’t place where. I shrug. It probably wasn’t important.

I shift behind the pile, trying to get a better view. My knee nudges a piece of metal out of place, crashing loudly to the ground. I stare at the large sheet of metal dumbly for a couple of seconds before lifting my head up, meeting the gaze of the seemingly angry green mutant.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” He hisses out, glaring at me. I put my hands up in mock surrender, laughing nervously. I didn’t mean to offend him, I was just… Curious. Plus, he was really pretty. I couldn’t explain it. I was drawn to him in a way.

“I’m so sorry, I was just looking for Repo and then I found you and then I got lost in my head and I know I must’ve looked like a creep and I’m so sorry.” I cut myself off from my ramble at his look of disinterest, my mouth pressing into a line as I rock back and forth on my feet. “Sorry.” I say again, trying to make myself seem like less of a weirdo.

He rolls his eyes and turns back to the pile of junk, ready to ignore me once more. “Repo’s gone. He’ll be back in around an hour.”

I puff out my cheeks in frustration, unhappy with this turn of events. “Do you mind if I just hang out with you then?” I ask, already plopping myself down next to him. The mutant eyes me with a look of mild disgust, rolling his eyes at my presence.

“Yes.”

I chuckle at the annoyance in his voice, grinning at him. He ignores me, continuing to sort through the piles of scrap. I pat at my legs, trying to think of something to say or do to pass the time. I continue to watch him sort in interest, humming softly to myself. “So, what’s your name?”

“No.” He responds, not even sparing me a glance. I shrug, not really taking it personally. I wouldn’t be too fond of someone who appeared to be stalking me just moments before either.

“I’m (Y/n).” I say, offering my hand for him to shake.

“I don’t remember asking.” He replies, one of his tech arms pushing my hand away. I bring it back to my legs, tapping out a pattern on my hips. He seems agitated at my continued presence, his drawn on eyebrows knitting together. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?!”

“Nope!” I say, grinning at him. He frowns, displeased with my answer. He grumbles something under his breath I can’t quite understand, but I assume it’s some not so nice words towards me. Oh well, I was being a bit of a nuisance, but I liked his company. Even if he was completely shut off towards me. 

I watch a small beetle crawl across the ground, pulling my knees to my chest in appreciation of the insect. Its tiny legs carried it across the dirt and through the small sprouts of grass, on its way to wherever its little bug brain decided. I grin, happy to have some form of entertainment. The mutant next to me, however, did not seem to find the same appreciation for the small beetle, as his junk pile seemed to have conveniently been moved directly on top of the bug. I let out an offended gasp, trying to free the poor thing from its metal prison. My hands grip the compacted metal and yank it up, my cheeks puffing out because it was only the size of my hand, so why does this stupid thing weigh like fifteen pounds. 

The purple-coded mutant looks at me in worry at my loud gasp, his eyes scanning me as he takes a moment to try and figure out what was wrong. I angrily point at the smashed beetle, glaring at the now murderer. “You crushed Bartholomew Henry the Third with your careless throwing of the scrap! Apologize immediately.” I demand playfully, pouting as I gesture towards the bug's smashed body.

He did not seem impressed with my antics. He glances at the beetle before looking back up at me, blinking slowly. “It’s dead. You can’t apologize to something that’s dead, dumdum.” He states, exasperated. I let out another laugh and he huffs, turning away from me once more. I carefully pick up the squashed beetle, placing it next to me as I start to dig a small hole in the dirt. I can tell the mutant is watching me through the corner of his eyes, his mouth pressed into a thin line. His eyes held a curiosity towards my actions, trying to figure out what I was doing without showing that he was interested. He was a funny one, watching him made me grin.

Once I deem my hole deep enough, I pick up the bug carcass and carefully place it in. I push the dirt back into the hole, patting it down firm. I take a small piece of wire and carefully twist it into a small U, placing it at the head of the grave to make a gravestone. I smile down at my work, patting the dirt mound once more. I hear Donnie rustling through the junk next to me, no longer paying attention to my grave digging. Whether he got uninterested in watching, or just felt it complete enough to no longer pay attention to, I don’t know. 

He pulls out another thing from the junk, his face lighting up. It was thick, and was more of a rounded square than anything. It had a small cooling fan in the middle of it, red plating, and a couple wires sticking out. I watch his face as his hands rhythmically tap the surface of the object, his body more or less vibrating in joy. “Oh sweet Galileo, I found it!”

I look at the part in his hand curiously, unable to tell what it is. It looked like junk to me, with frayed wires coming out of its main build and scratches and dents covering it. I looked at the turtle, expecting an explanation, but he was too busy messing with the things wires. “What’s that?”

“A part for something I’m building,” He says, a smug smile stretching across his face. He looks at me for once, proud of his find. He holds the equipment piece up with one hand, his other moving around him quickly as he talks. Most of it flew over my head, but it all seemed so cool. I glance around his face, trying to take in all his words. He was finally talking to me, and I couldn’t be more elated. “It’s a state of the art compact motor, I need it for a specific project of mine. It’ll be able to make my tech run so much smoother, I just need to fix it up first.”

“Wait, your tech. Do you mean like the armor on your back?” I ask, looking at his weird armor once more. He sits up straighter, seeming happy with my question. He puts the motor into his back armor, winding up for an explanation. I sit up straighter, crossing my legs and putting my hands in my lap, ready to learn more about his tech. He seems to beam in delight at my new position, clearing his throat and readying to talk.

“This ‘armor’ as you call it is my battle shell. It’s a piece of tech I made to help me, having many beneficial tools that are at my disposal. It’s made of military grade titanium, being able to withstand high amounts of damage without being even so much as scratched.” A smug smile grows on his face once more, his eyes lighting up in delight to the fact I was actually listening to him. I grin, nodding as I look at his battle shell in awe. 

“You made this?! That’s so cool! You’re like, a super genius or something!”

His ego grows more at my praise and he seems to inflate some, puffing out his chest in pride. He continues to explain more about his battle shell, showing me all of its cool features while I look on in awe. Everything he did was so impressive, I was starting to understand his overinflated ego. Sure, I still kind of hated it, but at least he knows how incredible he was. I tilt my head as he talks, my eyes watching him with a small sadness.

“Do you miss being human?” I ask softly. I knew Repo did, and I had always felt bad for him. He seemed to have figured life out after all this time, coping with his new body. But this guy next to me? He seemed to be around my age, only a young adult. I couldn’t imagine having your humanity ripped away from you like that.

He looks at me, his eyes narrowing in confusion. His hands come down to rest by his side, looking at me strangely. “I was never human.” He says curtly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I was created by a scientist as a weapon to destroy humanity,” He says, a strange grin on his face. It felt like he was trying to scare me and I rolled my eyes, smiling a bit. “I started out as a normal softshell turtle. Now, I am a mutant. Don’t pity me, I’m not weak nor upset with my current situation.” 

I wilt a little, the familiar burn of embarrassment flooding me. I look at the ground, laughing nervously. “Oh. My bad. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s okay.”

We both sit in awkward silence for a moment, neither of us knowing how to continue. Or, at least, I didn’t. The softshell seemed perfectly content on ignoring me to look through the junk once more. My head snaps towards the gate, the sound of heavy footsteps sounding through the junkyard. I catch a glimpse of the purple mantis, standing up and brushing off my pants. Donnie watches me curiously, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to figure out what I’m doing. Instead of making him guess, I offer an explanation. “Repo’s back. I need to head out. Bye!”

“Wait, that’s it? You’re just… Leaving?” The softshell asks, his voice losing the cocky edge it had the entire time we talked. I smile sadly, rubbing the back of my neck in guilt. “Yeah… I’m really sorry, I wasn’t even supposed to be here for this long. My parents are leaving on a really long business trip in a couple months, and I need to help them get everything in line before they go. I’m so sorry.” My face falls slightly, I really don’t want to leave yet. The purple-coded mutant was funny, if a bit egotistical. I genuinely enjoyed our talk. “Maybe I’ll see you again some other time.” 

The mutant nods, a smile coming across his face as he thinks. There was an odd glint in his eye, a look I couldn’t quite place. “I’ll see you soon then. Goodbye, (Y/n).”

next part

[jangmi-latte]

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆... ʕ calamities always causes disasters. disasters are the mainstream of danger — and danger causes pain. To define such instances, would your apology suffice the grieving guilt that’s eating away your soul despite being granted with the ability to breathe for another day? This is a rhetorical question, and yet if it wasn’t, would you have the answer as you sit in his chambers in silence…? ʔ

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑: BIRD BEASTMAN!ROOK HUNT X READER

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: near death experience, angst if you squint, hurt and comfort, emotional breakdowns, overthinking (reader), descriptive mentions of wounds and blood, the concept of being hunted down and chased (outside party), whump.

while the warnings say otherwise, this is pure fluff with no signs of character going against the reader. Gender!neutral reader. rook hunt has wings. rook’s siblings/family are/is mentioned. all description of family affiliations is purely HEADCANON

i can make a part two...

𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒

h-h-hurt and comfort while rook's being overprotective yet injured like the man he is hahwushhahah that unique magic of his does shit to my eyeballs. also because i'm having a breakdown over this half bird theory after the tamashina mina event harharhar (⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠˙̫̮⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠)

𝐑. 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 ʕ 100% loading...ʔ

The pitter patter of the rain held nothing against the endless ringing of your ears while medics ran in and out of his bedroom. In the heart of a storm, everyone should’ve been within their safe haven — a home, some shelter, a person to seek for. Sunset Savanna was supposed to be a lively country.

The blanket held no warmth, no matter how thick or how it covered your hunched body. It felt too clean; you shouldn’t be this ridded of impurities. Save for the mire and muck that tainted your arms and legs, it still felt so unjustifiable that you were still… unharmed. All you got were cuts (that has already clotted and was patched). Your hair damped of grim and sweat, not like it even bothered you at this point.

It felt like a sin, a curse, to only have this kind of stain. The room felt empty — despite the presence of another male across from you paced back and forth.

It was cold.

Too cold.

 His blond hair held great resemblance to him, his eyes held more of his mother than his father — in comparison to his brother who got their father’s slender eyes. You heard his pacing slow down and felt his eyes settle on you; looking all fragile and scared.

“He’ll be okay,” he said, his voice holding the same comfort and tone like how Rook spoke it to you merely an hour ago. You’ll be okay.

You did not respond. You continued to stare at the leaves — that entered through the window from the restless wind — that danced on the bedroom’s floor.

“y/n…” he called, sitting down beside you.

It hurts, it’s not like you wanted to be this hurt in the first place. It’s not like you wanted him to be hurt at all. It wasn’t either of your faults and yet you truly felt like it was yours to bear. If only you didn’t run through the woods, if only those hunters didn’t see you as a potential prey; let alone they shouldn’t even have seen you. You were an innocent civilian wanting some fresh air before the storm settled in.

He saw you. He used his unique magic on you. He made sure you were still safe. He protected you.

His family was a group of hunters too — he, himself, an adept one but that doesn’t excuse that he wants you to be hunted down. Albeit let it be a simple game between you two, no outside parties allowed. Now where was he? You’ve never heard him so panicked, like he was scared (even though he tries not to be). He wasn’t scared for himself; he was scared for you.

Because, compared to your little game, he could not control your safety.

“…Do you want to see him?” Rook’s older brother — the second oldest — asked.

“Please,” you replied instantly, desperation and distress strangled your words. Looking up at the man before you, you would’ve commented at how similar they both are to one another, to compliment how handsome he was, too. Now was not the time.

He had an arm laid on your back, a hand holding on your other shoulder. His eyes, that used to hold the same exuberance as Rook, only held worry and stress as the weight of being both a brother to his other siblings and a pillar of strength was getting to him.

“I’ll come with you.”

And here you are standing in his bedroom. What used to be a room full of life, smelled of nature, and the occasional scatter of bows and arrows, now held the scent of blood and petrichor, added with the aching smell of antiseptics. Bandages, swabs, cloths, endless of them scattered across the room. It looked like a mess— no, it was a literal mess.

Not the mess you would often see.

Now broken arrows made your heart ache instead of making it race with glee, no teasing laughs, no voice cracks when he spoke so fast as he showed you a good hunt. It was so quiet.

And on the bed, Rook laid quietly with his wings spread out. If it wasn’t for the bandages on one wing, you would’ve run and snuggled on those thick and white feathers.

White feathers…

They were red and taut now. It made you wince as you remember. You remembered so vividly.

Those wings—those beautiful white wings—

“I can’t guarantee that he’ll be able to fly. At least for a while.”

Your eyes burned, your nose was itchy, your skin crawled. It’s like pins and needles butchered your scalp down to your palms. You didn’t even know the head medic was there.

“Otherwise, no vital organs were hit. Most of the damage were on his wings.”

“How severe was the damage?” asked his brother.

Five. It was five arrows that hit his wing. And two of those hit a membrane.

It was repeating again — the rapid beating of your heart that echoed repeatedly through your ears when he saw you, the relief in his eyes, when he welcomed you in his arms. The grip he had on your body when he released his wings that he valued so much.

“You’ll be okay. I’m here. I see you.”

The solace when he took to the skies in one big swing, battling with the strong wind as the rain was starting to fall, until one arrow shot straight to his wing. It pierced so deeply that it stabbed through the other side, immediately painting his feathers red and for him to yell in pain. A yell you never, not once in your life, imagined would come from him.

And to the Great Seven you beg to never hear again.

The rest became a blur, when he began to lose control, when he swerved and held you tightly, and when it hit that membrane around his inner wing did, he toss you away when you both crashed to the ground. The rain already soiling you both in mud and water as you crawled towards him. Deaf from your heartbeat, the rain, and the yells of hunters from the distance.

The impenetrable darkness that blurred your eyes — whether it was rainwater or your tears, you didn’t know. You counted the five arrows that ruined his wing, you don’t know how to remove them and logically he will not be able to fly.

His blood was being washed away by the rain when you hulled him to a nearby cave.

“Rook,” you sobbed. He was heaving and gritting his teeth, despising his current state of vulnerability at the moment.

“I’ll...be fine…” he groaned.

Only then did you realize that you were close to the Elephant Graveyard and was found by a search and rescue team.

You shivered when you closed your eyes to rid of the image of his blood caked wings. He’s safe now, sleeping in front of you; but it didn’t settle your heart.

“Thank you,” you heard his brother speak behind you while you slowly approached Rook. They removed his shirt and laid him on his stomach so his left wing was tucked while the right was stretched out, the whole thing was bandaged yet soaked. Upon closer inspection, you saw the damage those arrows did.

Your eyes stung as you laid a gentle yet shaking hand on the sensitive wing, feeling his heart beating steadily through the bandages and the warmth it emitted to your hand.

“Rook…” you whispered, inhaling quaveringly.

“I’m sorry.”

A sob made its way up your throat as you sat down next to him. He didn’t wake up this time, not when he was utterly exhausted from both the pain and the energy he had to exert while flying and to keep himself from fainting.

His brother watched you in pity, feeling guilty that he wasn’t able to save his brother in time either. He knows he’ll be okay, but as a wing-bearer himself, it would nonetheless be traumatic to lose the only thing that kept his whole identity.

It is a part of him, his family, and his strength. He prayed that he truly will be able to fly again.

“Rook.” You combed your fingers through his hair and cupped his cheek, watching his parted lips take in even amounts of air. Your tears soaking the sheets and sniffling as you placed your lips on the side of his head.

“Great Seven please let him fly again,” you prayed against his head. Not a rustle on his other wing either. He was out cold.

You believed it was really your fault. If you hadn’t gone that deep into the forest, if you didn’t argue with those hunters, he would’ve been safe. You should’ve taken the damage, not him. He was innocent. Now the consequence was too much to stomach.

“We’ll…” inhaled his brother, “We’ll find a way to help him fly again.”

“I’ll help.” You didn’t move from your position, “I…I’ll look for a medic somewhere o-or a wing therapist— anything…” you wept.

For it will break you too if you saw him sitting on the porch while his siblings flew without a care in a world. Even if those lips of his smiled at the freedom his siblings have, deep down those skies are his home as well. If he wouldn’t be able to touch the clouds again, losing a part of him that’s part beast man is like skinning an animal alive.

The hunter was hunted.

© 𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞 2021.

[parvulous-writings]

Hey! I saw that Bill and Ted were on the list that you write for, and I was wondering if you could do a Bill x Ted x gn!reader where y/n is autistic and they have a shutdown where they go nonverbal and everything feels uncomfortable (touch/sound/etc). Which in turn causes them to feel worse because now y/n feels like they're being a burden to their partners, but Bill and Ted will not let them believe that /Can be mostly fluff with a small bit of angst //you don't have to include this, but I do hc both Bill and Ted as neurodivergent, so if you want to input that you can 🌟

///This request does kinda stem from personal experiences, and I just needed some fictional comfort 😭

////Stay hydrated and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day/evening! 😊

Summary: Bill and Ted try to help you as much as they can whilst you have a shutdown

Warnings: Description of autistic shutdown, descriptions of overwhelming spaces. There's nothing too graphic or anything, though! Gender-neutral use of dude, that's just how they talk 0-0

Words:

Notes: I am so SO sorry this took so long - I was just determined to pour my heart and soul into this, as it struck me very deeply! I hope I can do this justice! Also trying out a slightly new format which is strange to me 0-0  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

not my gif

Somehow, the pair of music-loving young men had managed to convince you to go with them to a local concert. How they had coaxed you into it, you weren't entirely sure - their voices had overlapped so much and so many times that you weren't quite sure who was speaking when. "Listen, it's all going to be okay! I mean, it'll be loud, but you'll be with us, we'll cover your ears if you need it!" The shorter of the two, Bill, assured you. He was already clearly ecstatic, practically bouncing as he shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. You hadn't even given a response yet, and he was already over the moon. "Yeah, you'll be with us!" Ted echoed, a huge, almost goofy smile on his face. Though the taller of the two seemed much slower in his movements, there was no doubt that he was just as excited as his best friend.

You had tried to explain that that wasn't always how it worked with your sensitivity, but no matter what you said, they always seemed to have an answer or a solution to every potential problem you presented them with. They were just so stoked at the idea you might join them to this concert - the event they had been waiting for months upon months to go to. The one thing that they had begged their parents to attend; that Bill had easily managed to cajole Missy to let him go to, and that Ted had somehow managed to convince his father that it wasn't anything nefarious, that he would be safe. They had already begun packing for you before you had a chance to properly consider - they were very sweet about it all, but your voice was very quiet compared to their overlapping chatter.

Three bags - backpacks - was what they ended up packing. "I think that should be enough..." Bill said to Ted, as the taller of the two was bringing more water into the garage from the house. "Are you sure?" Ted asked, "What if we run out of water? Don't want to ruin our throats, dude..." "I'm sure there'll be some there! Missy'll give us a bit of money, too..." Bill replied, starting to do up the backpacks, making sure everything was packed properly - maximising space whilst also ensuring that everything was at least somewhat secure, particularly the bottles of water. It simply wouldn't have done to have one of them burst in the bag, and soak one of your backs, especially when you were all going to be standing for so long. You stood there, awkwardly as the two friends rushed back and forth, making sure that everything was as they had planned. "Hey," Ted's voice broke you from a thoughtless daze. You blink a few times, and turn your gaze to him. "You okay?" He asks, his brows furrowed with boyish concern - he wasn't sure what was going through your head, but the worry was genuine, that much was clear to see.

You consider his question for a moment, before settling on your answer: "I'm... not sure...?" Ted is clearly puzzled by this response, so you fumble your way through a half explanation. "Well... I do want to go with you guys-" "You are coming with us!" Ted interjects, quite gleefully. "What I mean is, I... I'm really anxious about it- I've never done something like this before, I've never... been comfortable, with this kind of thing..." "Well..." Ted starts, trailing off for a moment. He must be trying to make some connections in his head. "Well, you'll be with us... " He repeats the mantra like statement that he and Bill had adopted since they broke the news to you that morning. "So, that'll help, right?" He asks - you had never been entirely open with the two about how some things would affect you in a drastically different way to what it affected them. Crowds overwhelmed you, excessive noise debilitated you and made you ever so irritated you, and change... Well, you had never let anyone but your family see the results and ramifications change had on you, but needless to say, it was unpleasant. Ted's quasi-reassurance came from a good place in his heart, but you weren't as sure that their presence alone would calm or aid you. You stay quiet for a moment, considering your options. Yes, you could refuse, and save yourself the potential overwhelming environment, but disappoint your friends... OR, you could risk it, make them possibly the happiest you've seen them in a long time, and it could all be okay. There was no way of telling. You sigh quietly, then offer Ted a tiny smile. "Yeah, I guess that could help...."

Before you had even entered the venue, there were hundreds of people, all swarmed together, bustling little bubbles of activity that you would rather avoid. Both Bill and Ted were in their element already, eyes widened with wonder and anticipation. This was what their whole lives had led up to so far. This moment - seeing a band in the flesh, and their excitement was starting to bubble up, with the evening barely started. You grab Bill's arm with both hands, pulling yourself close to him. He glances at you, and is about to say something - his mouth half open as the words begin to form - before he is interrupted by a cheer from one of the groups ahead of you, as the doors to the venue are finally opened.

Bill and Ted quicken their pace - they so badly want to get in there, find a good spot for you all. So eager are they, that they drag you head on into the flowing crowd. Bodies are pressed against bodies, all moving as one, never stopping. You're being pushed by people behind you, pulled by Bill, and by Ted. Your feet can hardly keep up - the minimal room to move not helping you at all. You stumbled along, with no choice in the matter. You feel your chest tighten - the night had only just set into motion, and already, it was starting to get to you. You tried to call out, to get the attention of one of your friends, but naturally your voice is lost in the sea of the rest. You try tugging at Bill's sleeve, and then Ted's - but because so many others had done the same in the last few minutes, that they didn't take any notice whatsoever. They keep pushing forward, dragging you with them despite your reluctance. It was all too much. You had no way to tell them, but it was too much.

You can feel your eyes start to almost glaze over as your voice dies in your throat. You can still see everything, but it felt... Far away, now. All of the noises that surrounded you blur and fade, becoming one distant and droning hum. You're rooted to the spot, though you're still somewhat aware of the fact that people are still knocking into your arms, shoving past you to make their way into the venue. It was a few minutes later, when Ted went to turn to you to say something about how totally amazing this was going to be, that they knew you had gone. Ted grabbed Bill's arm, shaking it violently to make sure he got his attention. Bill turned, brows furrowed, almost in annoyance as he pulled his arm away from his friend's grasp. "Dude, what-" "Listen - our trio's turned to two!" Ted exclaimed over the noise, grabbing Bill's wrist again. He dragged the curly haired teen back through the crowd, Bill struggling at almost every step. There was a flurry of questions from him: "What the hell do you mean, dude?" and "Why are we going back to the doors? We're going to miss it!" were the only ones that Ted managed to make out. He knew, that if Bill had realised you weren't with them, he'd be just as concerned as he was. Ted cranes his neck, scanning over the top of the crowd, looking for you. It's not as simple as it sounds: there are at least ten other people who he initially thought were you, but quickly came to realise they were not.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, they did find you. And, immediately, they knew something was wrong - of course, they didn't know exactly what, but, concert or no, they knew they had to help. "Let's try getting outside." Bill suggested to Ted, despite his earlier protestations that they would miss the show. When faced with the decision of your well-being and comfort, or a live show, it was a no-brainer. Carefully, trying not to startle you, they took your arms. You were almost like a ragdoll in their hands as they started to move to the back of the crowd, but suddenly you're pulling against them, resisting, trying to wrestle your arms from their hands. You'd snapped back to reality, feeling every sensation there was to feel; the overwhelming noise, the heat of so many bodies packed closely together, the tight grip of Bill and of Ted. You wanted none of it. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggle, and soon enough, Ted let's go, motioning for Bill to do the same. You draw in on yourself, holding your hands to your ears and looking down at the floor, trying your best to minimise the amount of stimuli your brain was taking in. It worked, to some extent. You feel a quick, but firm, tap on your shoulder - someone trying to get your attention. Your eyes dart up, mostly out of habit, to see Ted waving at you, his smile nervous and unsure. He beckons to you, silently calling you forward, and you shuffle slightly in compliance. It's difficult to move, but you register that both Bill and Ted are trying to help you get out of this situation.

Eventually, you're all outside, and Bill is trying to guide you to sit on the floor so you can rest for a moment, which proves extraordinarily difficult to him when he realises he can't touch you more than a tap. You both manage it though, and Bill and Ted sit either side of you, like they do ordinarily. You all stay quiet for a while - both of them expecting you to speak first, to say that everything is okay, that you're fine. But you don't. You just sit there, tears rolling down your face. Ted leans forward, waving a little to get your attention again, "You okay?" He asks, his voice quiet, unsure. You just turn your head towards him, unable to answer. You wanted to - oh how you wished to be able to! But... At the same time, speaking felt like it would be too much now. Ted didn't really know how to take your silence. Was it good? Bad? His eyes flitted to Bill, who instantly made eye contact; clearly they were thinking along the same line. There's a moment of tension, where the two boys seem to be mentally battling to see who should speak first. Bill eventually opens his mouth. "We're sorry..." He begins, "We.. We should have listened to you, about the concert and..." He trails off with a light sigh - not at you, but at himself. At Ted. They should have listened to you - should have arranged to do something else. You hear something rustle from beside you, and as you turn you see Ted offering you one of the bottles of water he and Bill had packed. "Drink, dude..." The dark haired boy urged. He knew you needed something, and that you may be in a state, but they both still want to take care of you, even if they were the main cause of the problem in the first place. Their hearts were in the right place, and now they wished to try and make up for their mistake. Bill wished that he had thought of your perspective a bit more, and sooner. He had been so wrapped up in his desire - which had practically become a need - to see this concert, that his mind could barely focus on anything else. His chest ached with the guilt of what he had brought on to you; he knew all too well what the overwhelm could feel like, and so did Ted. But their focus on the concert had thrown all other considerations out of the window, for both of them.

You shakily take the bottle from Ted, to find it already undone. You glance in thanks to him -unable to smile- before bringing the bottle to your mouth and taking the smallest of sips. It was all you could muster for the time being. "I have an idea!" Bill announced, a tad too loud for your liking, making you flinch. Bill notices, and winces too, giving you an apologetic look. "I was thinking..." His voice is softer now, more like a whisper. "We take you back to yours..." He points at you, "So that you can rest up... Y'know, sort yourself out and everything... We can stay if you want to, but-" He pauses, realising he's getting carried away with himself and starting to ramble. "And then..." He continues, back on his original train of thought. "When you're ready... You can come over to my place, and we can jam out." He gives you that trademark goofy little smile, all teeth and just reaching his eyes. There's a question teetering in your mind, bouncing around; one you can't yet voice. Ted, somehow manages to read your mind at that very moment; "Jam? You mean, we'll be using the guitars?" He considers for a moment, "I don't know... Your dad said he doesn't want to hear any bad playing anymore... and I'm not tryin' to say anything about your playing-" Ted turns to you, totally sincere, "But I don't think it's... Eddie Van Halen level yet, dude..." "Well, it can be with or without the guitars." Bill responds, "I mean, we've got the guitars to get to Van Halen's level." He shrugs, "And who cares what my dad says? It's not like he's there most of the time."

Ted considers his friend's words for a moment, his brows furrowed as if he had been posed with a very serious philosophical question, lips pursed in thought to complete the look. After a few seconds of this, Ted nods enthusiastically, seemingly satisfied with this answer, his grin returning. "It's settled then!" Bill announces with a grin just as wide as Ted's, and with the gusto of the old shining knights of yore. "We take our good fellow here," He gestures to you broadly with his hand, "Back to their dwelling for the eve. And then!" He points dramatically to the sky with one finger. "We shall wait to the morn... To jam!" You giggle quietly, and Bill's joyous face turns back to you, all teeth and smiles still. Ted's face lights up too, and the two boys meet eyes before doing their natural greeting to one another - an epic air guitar gesture that had become customary for them after so many years of being friends. It's not long after that, that the three of you are walking down the path to your home - taking up the entire pavement as you stand with all your shoulders practically touching, though the pair were careful to make sure that they didn't accidentally brush against you on the way back - they didn't want to upset you again. Bill actually nearly ended up falling into the road a couple of times because of this mindset, so ended up switching places with Ted. Then the same thing happened to him! The pair were laughing merrily at one another as they walked you down your drive. "I'll come see you at lunchtime tomorrow..." Bill says to you as you step onto your porch. "And then we can go pick up Ted on the way to mine, if you want to jam... If not, we could all hang out at your place, if you wanted?" Bill offered, and you nod slowly, "But you can tell us tomorrow, if you want, or later - if you can call?" Bill rambles a little, grinning at you. Though he still feels a bit guilty about the fact that his actions had upset you, he knew that you would all be able to work through it eventually; your reaction, to him and Ted at least, was perfectly natural. They may have had similar ones had they been put in a situation they had deemed unsuitable for themselves - Ted had certainly lashed out in the past because of the very same thing.

"But yeah, lunchtime tomorrow-" Bill repeats, "Don't forget!" He tells you, as if you ever would. With that, Bill and Ted scurry off into the evening air- the memory of the concert left behind and forgotten in favour of the plans the pair had started to make, in preparation for the next time the three of you got to spend time together, whether that be tomorrow, or even days in the future.

[bluenightcomedies]

🫐It's actually disturbing how often lately we're seeing reblogged posts unironically arguing that men can't be discriminated against altogether (not oppressed, discriminated, and please don't try to play dumb about the difference) then trying to segue that into dismissing and shutting down transmen trying to talk about their experience being prejudiced against based on their masculinity. What the hell is that? If a transwoman comes forth to talk about her experience being discriminated and prejudiced against for being a man while she was still closeted and cis-passing, are you going to try to shut her up or argue she's faking? Don't trust anyone who's trying to cling on to their personal brand of gender-essentialism. There's always that person who's all too prepared to throw allies under the bus for some vain, fleeting sense of superiority.

[kinthulou]

Disability in TTRPG: Nerf Your Rests

So I love to think about how to represent disability in my ttrpg, yeah? As a disabled person, this is super important to me. And I may have just figured out how to nerf long rests (via D&D 5e mechanics) in a way that's entirely representative of my actual lived experience with chronic pain and fatigue. Folk are welcome to use this in their own games, as a way of explaining their own disability to others, or to adapt to other systems or to their own experiences. But for now, I present to you: the Chronic Pain & Fatigue Long Rest. Per standard long rest rules, taking a long rest replenishes the following: 1. Hit Points 2. Hit Dice 3. Spell Slots Choose two. If you choose to replenish Hit Points, you may only do so by rolling whatever Hit Dice remain from your day's pool. You will always replenish Hit Points first, and replenish Hit Dice second. If you have one or more levels of exhaustion, you may either: 1. Choose one from the replenishment list and remove a level of exhaustion. or 2. Choose two from the replenishment list as usual, and keep the level of exhaustion. Optional, but related rule: You have resistance to healing magic and items, and only regain half the HP you would otherwise be granted by the spell or item. You may be thinking, "Why would I use these rules? They seem complicated and risky?" Well, yes, but also they can provide an approach to gameplay that's all about clever resource management, and also a lot of people actually live like this every day and maybe we'd like to be able to engage with said clever resource management in a way that's fun for once. Maybe we need a safe and controlled way to practice asking for the accommodations we need, or to gently teach our friends how crucial those accommodations actually are. And maybe some of us just really like our characters to be disabled like we are, so we can still explore the fantasy of going forth and exploring dungeons and fighting dragons and completing adventures in a way that feels genuine to ourselves? Idk, man (gender neutral). Do with it what you will. But I'mma be out here nerfing some long rests.

(As always, please work with your game master on any nerfs. They need to know you want to do this, and need a chance to warn you if the game they have planned might not jive with these mechanics, or to help you change things to fit what you both want out of the game.) (Also, if you're not playing a caster, replace Spell Slots with some other resource replenished on a long rest. Or something else! Get creative with it!)