#and some well-deserved killin' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tightjeansjavi · 1 year

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𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐫.𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫?

Joel Miller x f!reader

NSFW🔞

A/N: this is a result of my post gym ✨horny✨ thoughts. I love to think that Joel can be a whimpering mess, every now and then. You’re welcome ♡ ♡ ♡

Summary: You get jealous seeing the women in Jackson throw themselves at Joel. You decide to give him a gentle reminder of who he belongs to.

~word count : 4.3k~

Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, sub! joel, feral/dark! joel, soft! joel,needy! joel, possessive joel! is going to tear you apart! joel, dom/brat reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it kids) oral receiving (male) fingering, light choking, knife play, teasing, edging, light bdsm, consent, consent, consent, nicknames, praise kink, cockwarming, cream pie, cum eating, cum play, uhhh yeah a whole lot of filth! Not much else to say! (+18) MINORS DNI SERIOUSLY THIS IS STRAIGHT UP PORN.

Songs used:

“Freak” by Doja Cat (just trust me on this one y’all)

“Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge

“…Ready For It?” By Taylor Swift

“No Good” by KALEO

“Dinner and Diatribes” by Hozier

You never considered yourself to be a naturally jealous person. You had no reason to be. The people of Jackson knew well enough that you were Joel’s lady, and he was your man. You never had to worry about getting hit on at the Jackson bar, or while on patrol, because no one dared to even look at what belonged to Joel. The women of Jackson? They were a little more ballsy than you thought.

You knew your man was handsome. Hell, he was fucking beautiful in your eyes. You’d see some of the single women, and even some of the happily taken women, fawn over your man.

Could you really blame them? He was definitely a sight for sore eyes. You’d watch them touch his arm, laugh at something he’d say and that’s when your jealousy began to bubble deep in your gut.

Didn’t these women know Joel belonged to you? Did he remember who he belonged to? Perhaps you needed to give him a gentle reminder.

Your man had arrived home late one night after being on patrol. You could hear his heavy boots from where you stood in the kitchen, you heard him mutter under his breath about his bad back as he hung his rifle up alongside yours. Joel was currently looking forward to a well deserved, hot shower and a good cuddle with you, his lady. He knew however that something was off because you never would leave the lights off. You kept them on usually on the nights you knew he would be getting home late.

He called out your name.

“Baby? You down here? Where are you, my sweet girl?”

He heard your soft footsteps padding from the kitchen and then your face appeared soon after. He wasted no time to grab you by the waist and pull you flush against his chest. “Hi honey, I was just waiting up for you.” You softly spoke while draping your arms around his neck. “How was it out there?”

“Mmm. Hi Sugar. Why were all the lights off? You usually keep ‘em on for me. S’alright out there. Long fuckin’ shift, and all I could think about was comin’ home to you darlin’.”

You gave him a sweet kiss, gently playing with the ends of his hair through your fingers. “Yeah, baby? I’m sorry it was a long shift. Are you tired? Here, how about you sit down? You’ve been on your feet all day.”

Joel kissed you back immediately while he tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you in as close as he physically could. “S’alright. Feet and back are fuckin’ killin’ me though, sweet girl. Is Ellie home?”

You slowly pulled away from the kiss, sliding your arms down from around his neck and brought your hands down his chest. “C’mon i’ll take care of you, okay? She’s at Dina’s. They’re watching a movie so we’ll have the place to ourselves all night.”

“You had me at we’re gonna have the place to ourselves all night darlin.’” a chuckle vibrated up his chest. “Did ya have somethin’ particular in mind baby?”

You unwrapped his arms from around your waist, grabbing his hands as you brought him into the dining room. “I knew you’d love the sound of that Joel. Go on, take a seat honey.”

He raised an eyebrow in your direction as he tried to gauge just exactly what it was that you were up to. When he took too long for your liking, you placed your hand on his chest and firmly coaxed him down into the chair.

“What’re—”

He was cut off when you had climbed into his lap, straddling his hips while you brought his arms behind the chair, holding his wrists together firmly.

“Shhh. You trust me, right baby? I just wanna take care of you. Treat you real well but first, I think you need a gentle reminder of who you belong to.”

Joel’s eyes had immediately widened when you ever so casually climbed into his lap. His own frustration began to bubble when you brought his arms around the back of the chair, preventing him from touching you. “Course I trust you honey. Whad’ya mean you need to remind me who I belong to? Baby, I belong to you. You and I both know that.”

“Do the Jackson women know that you belong to me? I see the way they fawn over you Joel. You think I don’t notice? They practically fall to their knees when you’re around.”

Joel chuckled, leaning his head back against the chair with a smirk on his lips. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy in ya? I see the way they act around me sugar. I don’t pay ‘em any attention. Don’t need to when I’ve got you. By far the prettiest girl in town. Can confidently say I am one fuckin’ lucky man.”

Joel was too focused on you in his lap to notice that you had pulled a strand of thick rope from your pocket. He barely felt you tie his wrists together behind the chair, till it was too late.

“Yeah, you are one fuckin’ lucky man, Miller and you better remember it.”

He let out a strained noise from his throat when he realized you had successfully tied him to the chair and his eyes narrowed in on you. “Fuckin’ minx. You really just go and tie me to the damn chair?” He let out a low growl.

You were the one smirking now as you leaned in close to his face, your lips nearly touching his. “I did baby, I told you I’m going to take care of you. Just trust me on this okay?” You spoke in a sickly sweet tone.

Your words traveled down his neck, past his thighs and settled beneath his jeans where his cock had twitched slightly. It didn’t take much to get your man going and you were pretty proud of that.

“So you tied me to the damn chair? You gonna punish me, sweet girl? You got it in you to do that to me baby?”

You brought your fingers around his throat, tipping his chin back slightly as you brushed your lips over his, taking his lower lip between your teeth, biting down on the soft flesh as you tugged it out. Your actions elicited a low groan from his chest.

“Oh, I think you and I both know I’ve got it in me baby. You gonna be a good boy for me, or are you gonna be difficult?”

You quite literally stole the air from this man’s lungs. All the blood was draining straight down to his cock. God, you were so filthy and he loved every second of it. “I’ll be a good boy for you darlin’, only if you promise to give me your worst.”

His pupils darkened as he looked up at you, desperately wishing he could fucking touch you as he pulled against his restraints on his wrists.

“I promise you I will, baby.” You cooed and his eyes nearly rolled back into his skull.

You dragged your fingertips along the thin skin of his throat as you leaned down over him, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear, kissing the skin right below. It was the spot that you knew drove him crazy. “You let me know if it’s too much and you wanna stop. Okay honey?”

He felt a shiver run down his spine from your lips along his neck. “I know darlin’. I got you, you got me.”

Your relationship with Joel had been built around trust, and consent. It was important to you both, and no matter what the situation was between you, consent was always at the forefront.

“Good boy.” You whispered against the shell of his ear as you reached into your pocket and pulled out a blindfold.

His jaw went slack as you tied the fabric around his head, covering his eyes from your view.

“You’re about to fuckin’ ruin me, aren’t you baby?” He rasped out, feeling his senses on overdrive now that he could no longer see you.

“Gonna do a lot more than just that, honey. You just sit back and relax. I got you.” You pressed another kiss to the spot below his ear before you slowly dragged your lips down his neck, nipping and biting at the thin skin as he hissed under his breath, turning his head to the side slightly so you would have better access.

You dragged your sinful tongue down the expanse of his throat, you could feel his pulse quicken as your fingers began to expertly undo the buttons on his flannel, exposing his skin to the warm air as you let your fingertips trace down his collarbones, brushing over his nipples as they descended down over his navel.

His stomach went taut under your soft, feather light touches. He had sucked in a harsh breath as his cock twitched in his jeans once more. “Baby, please. Don’t fuckin’ keep me on edge like this honey. Please, I’ll be a good boy, just like I promised.” Your man begged you.

You popped the button off his jeans and tugged the zipper down. Offering him a brief moment of relief as you tugged his jeans down over his broad thighs, listening to the fabric fall down his ankles, and settle above his boots.

His breath hitched in his throat when your fingers lightly brushed over his growing bulge in his boxers. He was so big, so thick, the fabric was straining and could barely hold him.

What you did next? Completely through your man for a loop. You had unsecured your knife from your holster, dragging the edge of the blade down his chest, over his navel. The coolness of the metal against his hot skin was a delicious combination.

He tugged on the restraints hard, the chair scraping on the old hardwood floor when the edge of your knife dragged across his covered bulge. Your man fucking whimpered.

“Darlin’, is that your knife baby? What’re you gonna do with that, huh?”

You kept the edge of your knife lightly pressed against his bulge. You could feel his thighs quiver beneath you, and his cock twitch once more as you leaned in, and whispered against his ear, “Who do you belong to, Mr. Miller?”

He let out a string of curses past his plush lips, stuttering over his words as he was already a whimpering mess beneath you and you had barely touched him. “Yours baby. I’m all fuckin’ yours. All yours.”

“Good boy.” You hummed as you removed the blade from his covered bulge, placing it down on the table before you wasted no time to free him from his constraints. Watching his cock spring up against his stomach. The tip was leaking with precum, all thanks to you and your filthy words. Your mouth was already salivating for a taste of him.

He could no longer feel the weight of your body on his lap. He heard the chair scrape slightly as you got down on your knees in front of him. He wanted to fucking see your pretty face, your irresistible eyes on him, but the fabric on his eyes, blinded him from experiencing that pleasure.

“Gonna have a taste of you now, okay baby? Dying to have one.”

“Fu—fuckin’ hell darlin’ you tryin’ to send me to an early grave talkin’ like that—“

He lost his voice the moment your pretty lips wrapped around his aching tip. You swirled your tongue against the veiny head, collecting his precum with ease.

You dragged your lips and tongue down his thick length, feeling him twitch again as he let his whimpers flow through his lips freely.

“You taste so sweet, honey. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue baby?”

Joel growled frustratingly as he gave the restraints another good tug but they wouldn’t budge and he was completely at your mercy.

“That’s my fuckin’ line darlin’” he groaned.

“Yeah?” You hummed against his length, letting your fingers grasp his balls, giving them a little squeeze. “Well, now it’s mine. Deal with it.”

“You little—”

You had wrapped your lips back around his tip, slowly sliding your wet, hot mouth down over him, as you slowly began to bob your head at a delicious pace.

“F-f-fuck—darlin’ that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me. Not gonna fuckin’ last long like this.” He groaned while bucking his hips up slightly, desperately wanting more.

You brought your free hand, that wasn’t playing with his balls, around his thick thigh. You sank your nails into his skin, dragging them downwards as he let out a hiss, digging the heels of his boots into the floor.

You could feel every ridge, every vein against your tongue as you continued to suck him off, your teeth lightly scraped against his length as his tip hit the back of your throat. You knew how to take him well, but there were still tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. You fucking loved having his cock shoved down your throat like this. You loved the way he whimpered out your name, just from your mouth and tongue wrapped around him.

“Fuck—fuck baby you gotta stop soon, please! Fuck. I’m seein’ stars right now. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well in that pretty little mouth. S’pretty, just for me.”

Your throat tightened around him slightly as you held him there for a few moments, nearly gagging around him before you slowly lifted your head up, releasing him from your mouth with a pop. You had saliva dripping down your chin that he would have absolutely loved to see, along with your pretty swollen lips.

He heard your own jeans start to be taken off as he listened to the fabric hit the floor with a soft thud as he anticipated your next move on him.

“Where’d you go, darlin’? Can’t feel ya anymore..you better not be fuckin’ leaving me down here tied up like this—”

You had sank back down into his lap, your covered, aching cunt brushing against his swollen tip as you let out a low hiss from the friction. “Mmm. I’m right here baby. I wouldn’t be that cruel to leave you tied up like this..don’t give me any ideas though, okay? Not finished with you yet.”

He let a whine slip past his throat when he could feel your cunt rub against him, as you rolled your hips into his slowly, eliciting another frustrated groan from him, and an eager moan from you.

You reached your hand up, untying the fabric from his eyes and tossed it to the side, his eyes were immediately locked on yours, his jaw clenched so tightly, he could cut something with how sharp it was.

“You gonna fuckin’ let me touch you baby? Or not yet? Gonna keep me on the edge? Fuckin filthy little whore you are. M’so fuckin lucky.” He whimpered.

You brought your fingers through the back of his hair, gripping it tightly as you yanked his head back, rolling your hips into his once more. “Do you think you deserve to fuck me right now, baby? You think you deserve to fill me up with your cock? C’mon, answer me.” You demanded

Joel’s jaw went slack at your words as he swallowed hard. You were something fucking else entirely and he was at a loss for words.

“I’ve been a good boy, haven’t I baby? C’mon, sweet girl. Let me fill you to the fuckin’ brim. Please. Please. Please. Want to feel your warmth around me so fuckin’ bad. Give into me darlin.’ Take me however you fuckin’ want.” He rasped.

He watched as your hand slid down between your bodies, pulling your panties to the side, revealing your slick pussy to his greedy eyes as you dragged your fingers through your arousal. Swirling your fingers against your clit as you kept your eyes locked on his. “Bet you wish you were touching me right now, huh baby? I’m so fuckin’ wet for you. Don’t you wish you could have a taste? Mmm, your fingers do a much better job than mine.” You purred, wasting no time to slip two of your fingers inside, pumping them slowly on his lap. “I’m so fucking tight, Joel. Don’t you wanna feel me baby? Feel how fucking tight I am for you.”

Joel frankly had enough with your teasing. He nearly had drool dripping down his chin as he watched you with hooded eyes. He watched your fingers, slick with your own arousal, disappear inside your tight cunt. The squelching sounds of your wet pussy had his eyes rolling back as he kicked the side of the table with his boot, frustratingly.

“Goddamn you. Fuckin’ filthy. Look at you fuckin’ yourself on my lap. Fuckin’ should be my fingers filling you up right now. You little minx. Do I have to fuckin’ beg you? Your pretty little pussy is fuckin’ purring for me baby. You gotta let me out of these things, please baby. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please fuckin’ let me touch you.”

“No.” You spoke sweetly, between moans. “Keep fucking watching me Joel. Keep watching me fuck my pretty little pussy.”

“You are so goddamn lucky that you tied a fuckin’ good knot. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you when I get out of these baby. Just you fuckin’ wait.” He growled. He was unable to tear his gaze from your fingers fucking yourself, even if he tried. He was absolutely intoxicated with you.

You slipped your fingers out of your mouth slowly, they were dripping in your arousal as you brought them up to your lips, licking them clean right before his very eyes as he kicked the side of the table once more.

Your man was absolutely feral.

You grabbed the base of his cock then, dragging his tip against your slick folds, his arousal and yours mixing together. When you finally, sank down onto him, he let out the most delicious fucking sound you had ever heard. The mix between a groan, and a whimper as you sank down to the hilt, bringing your arms around his neck. “Filling me up so good already, baby. See what happens when you’re a good boy? You get rewarded.”

His breath hitched in his throat when you rolled your hips into his. He could feel every inch of you slide around his cock, and just as you started to get into a rhythm, rising and falling over his thick length as your walls gripped around him deliciously, the rope around his wrists snapped, falling to the floor.

His hands were on you before you even had the chance to open your mouth. You were positively fucked.

“Now, it’s my fuckin’ turn.” He had immediately grabbed ahold of your hips, roughly pulling your chest flushed against his as he fucked into you, his balls slapping against your ass while his nails dug into your hips harshly. “You fuckin’ like that baby? You naughty fuckin’ girl. Hope you enjoyed your fuckin’ little game while it lasted baby.”

His lips were attacking every inch of your skin, between your neck, collarbones and breasts, he was absolutely ruining you with his mouth. nipping, biting, sucking on your tender flesh as he fucked into you, drinking in your moans around him as you let him finally have control, not that you had much of a choice. You knew it was only a matter of time before the restraints would snap.

He had grabbed you from your ass, lifting you up onto the dining room table, while still buried deep inside of you. He brought your legs over his shoulders as he fucked into you, with your back firmly planted against the table.

When you had reached down to touch yourself, he smacked your hand away, grabbing both of your wrists and slammed them down above your head, holding them down with one hand. “No.” He growled.“You don’t get to fuckin’ do all of that to me and then think that you can touch yourself, baby. You’re mine now. You fuckin’ got that? All. Fucking. Mine”

“Joel—fuck! Please baby, I was only having a little fun! Please, are you going to let me cum?” You whimpered, tugging your lower lip between your teeth as you looked up at him with those eyes that would send any man’s knees buckling.

Joel let out a deep chuckle, using his free hand to close in around your throat, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he leaned down, bringing his forehead against yours, drinking in your moans as his lips crashed into yours, your teeth and tongues clashing together. It was a rough, heated kiss. One that was absolutely scrambling your brain. “You think you fuckin’ deserve to cum? You think you deserve that?” He mumbled into your lips, holding you completely captive beneath him.

Your breath was caught in your throat as his thumb squeezed along your windpipe slightly, just enough for you to feel it. The pain, mixing with the pleasure, you fucking loved it.

“Please, Joel! Please let me cum, baby! Don’t you want me to coat your cock? You gotta let me cum otherwise I can’t—”

He slammed his hips into yours, knocking your back against the table, stealing the air from your lungs. “What was that? Sorry, sugar. Can’t hear you above the sounds of my cock tearing your pretty little pussy apart.”

You let out a choked sob when his tip had hit the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your body was beginning to tremble beneath him and you nearly cried when you finally felt his thumb working your clit to the very edge.

He had released your wrists just so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and sink your nails into his skin, he knew how much you loved that.

“So fucking close, Joel! So close! Thank you baby, thank you!” You praised him.

Both of your bodies were slick with sweat as his thrusts began to grow uncoordinated and sloppy but despite this, he was still working his thumb over you, stumbling over his words as he groaned out your name.

“That’s it, my pretty fuckin’ filthy girl. Gonna cum around my cock? Gonna coat me? Wanna see you leaking out on the fuckin table when I’m through with you. Think you can handle that honey? Wanna see my fuckin’ cum drippin’ out of that pretty little pussy.”

It didn’t take long for either of you to hit your impending high. It crashed around you, sending white hot pleasure up from your core and through your whole body, Joel shuddered above you, as your pussy milked him of every last fucking drop. He kissed all over your face, praising you for being such a good girl as he gave one last deep thrust, before collapsing on top of you.

This is how it always ended. Joel buried deep inside of you while he grew soft, yours and his cum leaking out of you, while you would cradle him against your chest, running your fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

The post orgasm calm was your favorite part undeniably. You loved the lazy, sex stained grin your man would give you. God, he always looked so pretty after a proper fuck. He’d kiss you slow, deep, letting his tongue slip into your mouth while your fingers would gently scrape against his beard.

“I wanna see more of that in the future.” He mumbled into your lips, kissing you languidly.

“Yeah? You liked that?”

“Fuckin’ loved havin’ you take control like that baby. Do it whenever you want, kay?”

You let out a soft giggle, pulling away from the kiss to get some air as he let out a small whine, he wasn’t ready to stop kissing you just yet. So instead, he let his lips kiss all over your face, your cheeks, chin, nose, your eyelids. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“I will definitely be taking control more often, baby. I can promise you that.”

“Good.” He hummed, pressing one more kiss to your nose, lightly nibbling on it before he slowly slipped out from your warmth.

“We made quite the mess together honey. Dripping all down the fuckin’ table.” He chuckled, dragging his finger through your cum mixed with his, before he licked his finger clean, shooting you a wink.

You sat up slowly, your heart beat had returned to normal as you watched your man with a small grin as he collapsed back into the chair, kicking his boots off along with his jeans before he gathered the pile of clothes up into his arms to take them to the laundry room.

“I fuckin’ love you, you know that?”

“I know you do, Joel. I love you too.”

He leaned down over you, kissing you sweetly once more. He left to drop the clothes off in the laundry room before he grabbed a towel. He was always big on after care so you laid there, waiting for him.

He gently wiped between your thighs, and then the table before he was scooping you up into his arms. He helped you wrap your legs around his hips as he carried you upstairs, smiling to himself when he could feel your thighs tremble, all thanks to him.

One well deserved hot shower later, and you and your man were curled up in bed together. You were the big spoon tonight because you know how much he loves to be held by you.

You were his lady, his girl. He was your man. Your fellow, your guy.

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gh0stsp1d3r · 10 months

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Ruthless

Harley Quinn typa reader x Hobie brown, violence mention, if you know Harley Quinn yk she’s very.. violent (and obsessed) so… enemies to lovers trope

“Oh, c’mon.” You whined, currently tied up in webs.

“I’ve been chasin’ you for fuckin’ ages, can’t believe this is how I caught you.”

“I was going to hang out with my friend! This is unfair, I deserve a rematch.” You pouted.

“Yeah, no. After that lil stunt you pulled last week, no way. You’re ruthless.”

“They deserved it! Bunch of rich assholes.” You mumbled the last part.

“Well, I can agree with you on that last part, but murdering them ain’t exactly the way to go.” He said, picking you up as if you weighed nothing, and dragging you.

“It was funnn.. plus you know I’m gonna break out again, right?”

“Like you have the other 10 times?”

“Exactly.”

“Great. Can’t wait.” He said sarcastically and rolled his eyes.

And you’d gotten bored of being carried, so you quickly threw yourself onto the ground when you saw a knife in the alley.

He quickly looked back, and saw you cutting you webs, he shook his head and sighed, crouching down to your level as you continued to cut through the webs.

“You never learn, do ya?” He reached over you, grabbing the knife from you.

“No, not really, no.” You shook your head, now just laying on the ground looking at him.

“You’re insufferable.” He sighed and shook his head, sitting down in front of you now.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Cause… rich people suck, plus they’re like some sorta cult, they tried to kill my friend.”

“Still don’t make it right, you know? You’re wanted right now, not sure it’s very safe to be walking around like it’s nothing.”

“Please, if I can handle like a shit ton of rich guys, I can handle some cops."

“Yeah, well, I don’t like ‘em either but..”

“But..? Aren’t you like punk? Aren’t cops and shit like.. exactly what you don’t stand for?”

“Well, I’m better than the system for one. You’re better than the system, but you’re doin’ it wrong.” He shook his head.

“Didn’t know there was a way to go against the system wrong.”

“You- you murder people, you’re a killin’ machine, which I gotta admit is pretty cool. I help people-“

“I help people.. just not in the same way you do-“

“You help people by murdering people. Which in the same sense is… hurting people at the same time.”

“Huh. Guess I never thought about it like that.” You shrugged.

He sighed, and messed with the knife in his hand. He reluctantly cut the webs.

“Jus’… chill out on the murder, yeah? I do like what you did what that one guy though.”

“Which one?” You beamed and sat across from him.

“The predator guy.. what’s his name?”

“His name was like Josh or something.”

“Yeah, him. He deserved it.” He said, and smiled under his mask slightly.

“Just what do you look like under that mask?” You asked him.

“Like a normal person.”

You quirked an eyebrow and smiled slightly. You reached your hands out and pulled up his mask, before you could fully take it off, he stopped you. You saw only his nose, that’s as far as it went. His lips seemed so… kissable?

He let go of your hand and you looked at him for a while. And before you knew it, you both were leaning in, kissing each other.

“You’re very.. pretty.” He said.

You laughed quietly “Well, I would say you too but I still don’t know what you look like under there.” Your cheeks heated up at the compliment.

“Nice try.” He stood up again, and so did you. He pulled down his mask, giving you a small salute and used his webs to go up on a building, jumping through them.

You stared for a while, still in shock.

“Shit.”

—————

Tag list:

@enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot @anonima-2

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #spider punk #spider punk x reader #atsv fic #fem!reader #hobie brown x fem!reader

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morallyinept · 8 months

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Writing For Ezra - An Overall Analysis Of Our Favourite Scoundrel’s Articulation.

I often see writers mention in their blog/fics that they’re worried or concerned about writing for Ezra because of his loquacious nature. As a fanfic writer it can be daunting to translate an already loved character into your works, without trying to alter their main personality trait. In this case, it’s Ezra’s way of talking that is his standout mannerism and the reason why so many have a soft spot for him.

So, I got to thinking and put together this, somewhat, deep dive into him and his talkative ways. I hope it proves useful for anyone tackling him for the first time (myself included), or even for the experienced Ezra writers already here, who are already killin' it. 🖤

If this is beneficial to you in any way, please kindly re-blog, and also tag me in any Ezra works you write because of it. I’d love to read your work and feature it on my Ezra fic recs list for others to enjoy too.

⚠️This will contain spoilers for Prospect, so if you haven’t watched it yet, then you might want to save this for later.

Ezra’s accent is Southern.

Ezra’s accent has been likened to a Texan accent with a side of ham. Ham meaning someone who enjoys performing or behaving in an exaggerated style. Not the pig meat. 🐷 And his accent and voice certainly does have that hamminess about it. Back in the day, approximately around 1882, the term ‘ham-fatter’ was used referring to a poor person who overacted. It was then shortened to just ham.

It was Pedro Pascal himself who gave this specific accent to Ezra. Although it is not confirmed in the film where exactly Ezra hails from, he is confirmed human. In the Prospect-verse there is no mention of Earth as we know it, but that’s not to say it doesn't exist or isn’t referred to by another name. The closest being Camrea or Lau in terms of similarities of planets with land and water. So there is a good chance that his accent stems as a direct result of his heritage from either Earth itself, or a planet just like it in The Fringe.

In the deleted scene with Ezra and Cee, Ezra reveals he has a brother. This is the only personal information we get from Ezra - and it was deleted.

Ezra says in the scene where he encounters Damon for the first time, "me and my partner feel we both deserve... satisfaction."

If you didn’t know already, the term ‘deserve satisfaction’ stems from the 17th century where duels were mostly single combats fought with swords. But then in the 18th century, the swords were commonly replaced with pistols. You’ve heard of the term ‘pistols at dawn’ right? Well to demand satisfaction means to restore one’s honour by demonstrating a will to risk one’s own life for it. Again, this originates from the Southern states of America, during such times where duels were prevalent.

Damon and Number Two actually have a duel-type shootout, which is how Damon dies (aside from Ezra putting him out of his misery).

So yes, Ezra is, in fact, a Texan space cowboy of sorts. 🤠

Edit: Whilst I can only find one source that states Ezra has a "Texan" accent (and it's a film review article, so not based in fact), many argue that he sounds Louisianan more than Texan. Either way, he's definitely Southern, so you can make your own mind up on where he hails from originally, as it's never actually confirmed. 👇🏻

Source of Article

Yes, Ezra is a rambler, but pay attention to the frequency of his actual rambling.

It would be easy to overdo it on the flowery language when writing for Ezra.

The fact that Ezra throws in some words that are not commonly used in everyday conversation, doesn't mean that he does it ALL the time. Try not to fall into the habit of writing paragraphs of archaic and wordy language, when sometimes a simple sentence is sufficient for him to get his point across.

Here are some examples where he speaks with simplicity in the film:

“How poetic.”

“The starter, if you don't mind.”

“Funny, I don’t see any mercs. Where are they?”

“This is so exciting.”

“You friendly with these fellas?”

“You got a field kit?”

“It seems I must.”

“Keep it creamy and it’ll be fine.”

See? Short and snappy sentences.

What’s in a name?

Names are important to Ezra; he uses names as a gentle threat. When he comes across Damon for the first time, he uses his name almost constantly:

“Nice to meet you, Damon. I'm Ezra.”

“Where’re you from, Damon?”

“Alright, Damon.”

“Damon, it has truly been a pleasure, but pleasantries pass, it’s time to get candid…”

“So how did you get here, Damon?”

“The starter, if you don't mind. Where is it? Don't make me root for it, Damon.”

“But Damon, if there is talk of the Queen’s lair, the excitement is momentary.”

“Damon, I have clearly underestimated you, I must stop doing that.”

“Damon… does this mean that the plan is off? You have me all hot and bothered up over the Queen’s lair, Damon.”

“It's a shame, Damon.”

Ezra uses Damon’s name 11 times in just the first few minutes of meeting him and his untimely death. A name is important for Ezra to gain the upper hand and to subtly manipulate and appear menacing, more so than he probably is. It’s also done to grab the attention of Damon constantly; to ensure that Damon’s focus is directly on him by mentioning his name continuously.

Later, when Cee won’t give Ezra her name despite him asking for it repeatedly, you can see the frustration this causes within him. Because he has no way of gaining influence over her without it.

He refers to her instead as “little bird, birdie, girl & oi, number 3.”

When he does eventually learn her real name, he uses it only once.

“Nice to meet you, Cee.”

He doesn’t use it again for the duration of the film as their relationship has evolved into an unspoken, mutual trust. Something he did not have with Damon and therefore used his name repeatedly as a way of asserting dominance over him.

☝🏻So, if you’re writing Ezra, don’t forget to use names in abundance, like he does. Especially if he doesn’t trust or like them.

Double Entendres.

Pay close attention to the possible hidden meanings inside Ezra’s words too. This might not be deliberate, but his face when he speaks and says certain things hints at a devilish playfulness about him.

A particular scene that stood out to me is when Ezra and Cee are at the Queen’s lair.

Ezra says, “somebody ought to give her a go… That's the price for a dry breach. My chem will calm the brine.”

Now, if you’ve a dirty mind like me, (😜 ha!) A dry breach could be interpreted as ‘a dry pussy’ and his chem is ‘his semen’ that will calm it, or moisten it up as it were. 😏 I like that he can speak with a double meaning, if you're looking for it, but of course this is subjective.

So, dirty talk from Ezra doesn’t always have to be directly on the nose.

Some more subtle examples are:

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hold it like you love it.”

“Slippery son of a bitch.”

His tone also changes when he wants to emphasise a point. When the Saters give him and Cee the juice in their tent, Ezra can sense Cee’s reluctance to drink it.

He knows it tastes bad, yet urges Cee to drink it, without insulting his hosts who he knows could be dangerous. His face changes; his features become sharper and serious as he says "it's good for you, cleanses the dust."

Only moments before he was smiling and jovial. 👇🏻

Cussing.

Ezra never swears, in the conventional sense, for just the sake of it. I get the impression he would find that kind of language lazy. Cussing/swears are saved purely to express his frustration or fear in the situation.

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh Shit. Oh Shit. Oh Shit.” - (Yes, 6 times he says it!) When he loses his arm. - Fear

“Slippery son of a bitch… No, no, no. Ah shit.” - When he's mining the Aurelac husks. - Frustration

When mining for the Aurelac where he can’t separate the gem from the blister due to his physical impairment of only having one arm, Ezra mumbles a long string of unintelligible words in frustration.

Despite listening to the audio over and over, I can’t fully decipher it, but some words I pulled out were: “cob spitters(?)... can fuck more nuggets(?)... in this sleep for snatch(?)…”

Who knows exactly what he is saying here, (if you know, lemme know) but he rambles quickly and incoherently when he swears; especially when frustrated.

He likes to fill the silence.

When walking with Damon, he keeps conversation flowing by questioning Damon about the corporate expeditions, and with Cee, he tells her about the channel rats. He seemingly can’t abide silence.

And this is prevalent when he first meets Damon, he says “I can't tell you how refreshing it is… hoo… to encounter another talker.”

It’s safe to say Ezra likes to talk. If you’ve not already grasped that yet. So make that ramblin' man chatter away.

Ezra's redemption shifts his language too.

Ezra fully admits he is not a good man to Cee. He does this first by blaming the way of life that they are thrust in.

“Why should I trust you? You stole from us. We did nothing to you.”

“That's The Fringe, girl.”

Later he confirms coldly he is indeed a killer when Cee tells him so.

“You’re a killer.

“I am. But are you?”

As time goes on, Ezra realises he is at fault for the death of Cee’s father.

“Well you can't... you can't think like that. If you go down that path. It's not good. If you need someone to blame, you blame me.”

You can see the shift in his language from being blunt and to the point in the beginning, to more accepting and gentler later on. Full character transition.

He also refers to Cee as his partner, rather than his daughter, when he is impersonating Damon to the mercs later on. His choice of words here is interesting.

This indicates he thinks more highly of her than he lets on; that she is equal to him. He soon thinks less of the Aurelac - the sole reason why he is on the moon - and more so of getting off the moon intact with Cee beside him. A complete metamorphosis from when we first meet him, and he's stealing Aurelac from Damon.

“You are not understanding me.”

“I say the terms have changed.”

“You’ll find a way if you want that buried treasure.”

“A ride for me and my partner on your handsome craft, or no deal.”

Actions speak louder than words.

Ezra’s movement is interesting, as too is the violence he engages in - it’s slick.

He slices the Achilles Heel first of the merc at the Queen's lair, thus rendering him unable to fight back or run for assistance from the others before ploughing him face first into the acidic hole.

Despite only having one arm, Ezra’s strength is still pretty impressive. He’s quick, experienced and brutal. And not opposed to fighting dirty to ensure his survival.

Ezra also has excellent aim with the thrower; he kills another merc with only one shot, and in the dark too. That’s pretty kick-ass when you think about it.

Describing not only his language, but also the way Ezra moves in your writing, will really make him leap off the page when you write him. Be that in an action sequence, or completely fucking you up between the sheets. 🫠

A man of few words in the end.

Ezra’s last words are for Cee:

“You grab the gun and you go. You can make it. Get outta here.”

He’s fully aware of his impending fate at this point and has accepted it. He doesn’t say anything else, not even when she comes back for him, suggesting their bond now doesn’t need a spoken word to cement it. It’s transcended verbal communication.

Even when in the safe confines of the pod ascending up to the sling back, Ezra doesn’t say anything, even though you can see he is awake.

☝🏻In the end, words are not always needed. Sometimes it's the things he doesn't say that has the most impact.

So there we have it, Prospectors. I hope this was helpful and insightful to you about writing for Ezra and how he talks.

He is my favourite Pedro Boy, and despite feeling that I know him pretty well as a character, the thought of writing him still brings me out in a cold sweat to some degree… 😬 So I can understand if you feel daunted by it too.

There are so many wonderful works already out there that are written fantastically and really captures the essence and the personality of Ezra. And if you’re thinking about writing for Ezra for the first time, please don’t be put off by it - he’s such a great character who can be thrust into so many different scenarios, and of course, you can also mould him to be your own creation.

That’s the great thing with fanfic and head canon - there are no rules. We all interpret characters differently. And that’s what makes reading about them so fun.

If you haven’t seen Prospect yet, I highly recommend it. Check out the Ezra deleted scene here too.

Also check out my Ezra specific fic rec list for further enjoyment of this dashing rogue from other writer’s points of view.

Ezra Thesaurus:

Loquacious. Flowery. Tincture. Drawl. Husk. Gravel. Gabble. Wordy. Babbling. Long-winded. Effusive. Droning. Garrulous. Gibberish. Multiloquous. Yakking. Muttering. Mumbling. Voluble. Cadence. Trib. Rambling. Glib. Clucking. Gregarious. Windy. Verbose. Prolix. Articulate. Fluent. Mouthy. Vocal. Opinionated. Drole. Gassy. Eloquent. Stylised. Chatterer. Logorrhoea. Word Vomit. Incessant. Spit-balling. Bleating. Clacking. Blabbermouth. Windbag. Motormouth. Harping On. Overzealous. Enthused. Mirthed. Crude. All Around The Houses. Effulgent. Airy-Fairy. Prattling. Harpsichord. Waxing Lyrical. Recounting. Din. Tone. Note. Music.

🖤

GIFS used by @uuuhshiny @perotovar @nicolethered @iamasaddie @pedgito 🖤

#ezra prospect #prospect ezra #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #ezra is my fav #writing ezra #hints & tips #ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #writing advice #writing tips #helpful advice for writing #character writing #writing

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writergeekrhw · 1 year

Text

HOW TO KILL A CHARACTER

(A Writing Spew)

I'm trying to archive some of my old Twitter writing spews on Tumblr. You know, because of things. So here's a rather big one. HOW TO KILL A CHARACTER.

/BeginSpew

Okay, you’re a writer. You’ve got a mess of characters. You want to move your audience. So, it’s time to take out the old writer’s ax and chop chop chop! But how do you do it with maximum impact without your audience turning against you forever?

Pull up a chair and Uncle Robert will explain it to you!

(Warning, there may be spoilers ahead for stuff that if you haven't seen it by now it's your own damn fault.)

Luckily, there are a lot of reliable tricks to kill that character. Any of them can work for both #TVWriting and #Novels. Some of them can backfire. Here are some proven approaches…

Death #1: The Intro Death!

Want to set the stakes for your world? Introduce a character or characters and fool the audience into thinking they will be a big part of the story. Then… CHOP! OMG THEY’RE DEAD! SHIT JUST GOT REAL! AKA the Hello-Die.

The Hello-Die pretty much always works because the audience hasn’t had time to really get invested, but they’re invested enough to feel the sudden shock.

Examples: Psycho. Buffy (S1E1). GOT Teaser. #DS9 pilot. Hill Street Blues (averted).

The Hello-Die is often used by shows to shake up your expectations in what has usually been a fairly safe genre. And yes, I did this in #Andromeda. You think this is a nice safe Fantasy/SpaceOpera/CopShow/FamilyDrama? NOPE! Hello-Die! Watch out for exploding Helmsbugs.

Death #2: The Mentor Death

Your character learns cool stuff from the smart old person. Then the smart old person dies! OMG! “But I had so much more to learn!” “True, but don’t you see? This was the real lesson.” AKA The Obi-wan.

The Mentor Death is pretty safe too. We all know the old people we learn from are going to kick it soon, right? But that’s okay, because WE GOT THIS! Circle of Life, ya’ll!

Examples: Star Wars. Star Wars again. Star Wars that other time too. Harry Potter.

Death #3: The Hero’s First Kill.

Your hero lives in a violent world, but they’re a good person. They don’t want to be a killer. Alas, the world needs them to kill. And you want to portray how that impacts your hero. And so that minor villain must die!

The HFK can be tricky. For best results, the victim should need killin’. Because you want the audience to still like your hero. Plus it’s your hero’s first kill, so you need to overcome their reluctance. Or maybe it’s an accident? (OR IS IT?)

Either way, now your hero is transformed and all it took was offing a minor character. WARNING: Often involves hero puke!

An excellent example of the HFK is the Stable Boy in GoT. Arya asked him to let her go. He wouldn’t. She insisted. He said the Queen would pay her handsomely for her. She lashes out with Needle and… OOOPS! Or was it an oops? Well now he’s dead & Arya’s on her way.

Death #4: The Villain’s First Kill

The opposite of the HFK. The villain is bad, but he hasn’t killed… yet. Then he takes his first victim (usually someone either plucky or gross) and he just can’t help himself! Afterward, unlike the hero, the villain feels good.

He’s got a taste for this now. It’s going to happen again. Cue dramatic (or ironic) music!

The VFK can also sometimes be the Intro Death. Maybe it’s not the villain’s 1st kill, but it’s the first we see. Either way, the VFK is relatively safe, though there's a risk that if the victim is too likable, the audience won’t just hate the villain, they’ll hate the author.

Which is why the VFK is often someone gross or “disposable” or even theoretically somewhat deserving. In American Psycho, the first kill is a homeless man, the second is a Wall Street asshole.

Another VFK example: In the Bone Collector, the first death is a man no one cares about, and he dies off-screen, but the next is a plucky woman who dies horribly onscreen. The story eases you into it.

Still, the VFK is fairly safe. It needs to be just bad enough to shock, but no so awful that you completely lose the audience. You can get awful later once you've built up good will.

Now come some of the tougher deaths to pull off, starting with...

Death #5: The Season One/Book One Death

An important character dies relatively early in your tale. This is usually done because you want to drive home the stakes even more. Also the death launches/twists the story. AKA The Boromir AKA The Ned AKA The Sean Bean.

The Sean Bean is tricky because you’ve spent a fair amount of time getting the audience invested. You may have even tricked them into thinking the Sean Bean is a major hero. The more invested they are in TSB, the higher the risk you might lose your audience.

To minimize audience hate, make sure they understand it’s kind of Sean Bean’s fault. Or a noble sacrifice. Or if the character is minor enough (Hi Tasha Yar) it's a way to show the random awfulness of the universe. The important part is your real heroes will learn from this.

There will be crying and anger and thirst for revenge (or Data will struggle to understand death and we’ll all love him for it.)

The Purpose of the Ceremony - YouTube

Now part of why the Sean Bean works is its earliness. The later in a story a character is killed, the more their death needs to have meaning. You can kill Tasha randomly in Season One but you would never do that in Season Six.

In Season Six, if a regular dies, it better not be random or the audience will feel angry and… Oh. Yeah. Her. I wasn’t on staff then. IT’S NOT MY FAULT!

Anyway, the later you get, the more meaning a death needs to have, ideally.

Now we’re getting into the Big Earned Deaths. So let’s talk about them.

Death #6: The Big Bad Death

This is pretty easy, honestly. The easiest. The audience has been waiting for this bastard to die for years! They will cheer. Even if you’ve run this asshole through the Face/Heel Revolving Door a few times (Hi Gul Dukat), by now, they’re past redemption.

The Big Bad needs killing. KILLING THEM IS KINDA THE POINT. Go for it. Make it as horrific and painful as you’d like. Make them fall a LOOOOOOONG way before they hit something. Make them bounce a bit. The audience will love you for it.

Death #7: The Sacrificial Hero Death

Solid option. You might want to foreshadow the heck out of this. Maybe even near-death your hero a few times. But still, the audience usually gets this one. After all, messiahs die. It is known.

There will be tears, but we all know sometimes the only way to save the world is to die. If the good done by the hero’s death outweighs the sadness the audience feels, this can even be uplifting. Bittersweet chocolate is the best, right?

The SHD is a perfect way to kill a beloved character late in a novel or show. They died for our sins! If not for them, we’d be toast. Very satisfying when done correctly. I mean, there are entire religions based on this. Do it right and it packs an immortal punch.

Death #8: The Shakespearean Tragedy

Your hero isn’t really a hero. They might’ve started that way and/or had good intentions, but they’ve slippery-sloped themselves into full blown villainy… and they know it.

They’ve had their moment of tragic awareness. They realize theirs is a tale told by an idiot. Time to go out in the blaze of glory/late heel-face-turn sacrifice/by their own hand. My kingdom for a horse! Lay on Macduff! Good night sweet prince!

The classic ST is incredibly satisfying for the audience. They’ve enjoyed watching a good person descend into villainy, living vicariously through his/her badassery. They felt bad when the badassery turned to madness. SO MUCH METH!

Now the villain realizes how wrong it all was, and how flawed they are, they deliver a final moral lesson, then CHOP! And... cue Baby Blue, maybe some passing prince gives speech... then... curtain.

Death #9: The Final Wrong

Remember how bad that bad guy is? Gee, when’s the last time they were really, really bad? Time for them to shockingly kill a beloved character right before the final confrontation with the hero! I know you traveled a long way to help, but die Scatman Crothers!

Now there’s no going back. Now the villain can’t be redeemed. They must die. Cue the final chapter/episode/season/third act.

This one is risky as hell and maybe don't kill one of your few/only female POC protagonists this way but hey, you be you.

Death #10: The Sidekick Sacrifice.

Your hero can’t just win clean, right? That’s boring. There has to be a cost. And sometimes that cost is Robin’s life. Often this is a minor heroic sacrifice in its own right, but by someone other than the hero.

The sidekick takes the bullet, goes into the warp core, etc. Can be combined with the Final Wrong. Either way, "I have been... and always shall be... your friend." Cue tears.

Death #11: The War is Hell

A variation on the Sidekick Sacrifice. Beloved character dies randomly in a final great battle because War is Hell.

Sometimes the WiH is just A Bad Break. The bullet came from nowhere. WTF?!? Sometimes this happens in the Fog of War. No one saw it. The hero finds the body afterwards and feels the cost of victory. It’s high, man. So very high.

And yes, I used this one in #TheGoblinCrown. War is Hell even in YA fantasy novels.

Death #13: I Couldn’t Save Her

The riskiest variation on the late character death. The kid your hero has been protecting all along dies. The hero tries to save her/him but fails. Generally, only done in the Darkest Timelines. Or at the start of Alien 3. Fuck Alien 3.

The ICSH tells your audience this is not a hero’s story. This is a brutal examination of the inherent unfairness of life. Surprise!

WORDS OF CAUTION!

WARNING: Beloved Characrer Deaths often do not go over well. Use with caution.

The Final Wrong, the Sidekick Sacrifice, the War is Hell, and the I Couldn’t Save Her/Him are all somewhat risky. Sometimes you kill the very character that the audience most cares about. You know, like Glen. Or Lexa. OMG Lexa!? You can lose big chunks of your audience this way.

Still all four can be effective ways of turning on the feels late in a story. If you use them, make sure they either feel super well-earned or that they fit your theme so well that the audience will accept it.

But be careful. The biggest danger here is when the audience doesn’t realize you’re going to go this bleak and then you do and they feel betrayed. Can be a deal-breaker.

The more innocent the victim, the more horribly they die, and the more pointless the death, the bigger the risk you run of turning off your audience completely. And if it's an underrepresented character that a percentage of your audience deeply identifies with? Oh boy. Run.

Death #14: The Glorious Last Stand

This character was a prick all along, really. No one liked them. But when the chips were down, when our backs were against the wall, the they pulled the pin in their grenade and blew up a crapton of Aliens. Hurray!

The GLS can be supercool. The GLSer wasn’t the hero or the villain. Somewhere in the middle really. But we admire the way they went out. Their death redeemed them. If done right, audience will cheer for their bravery, finally loving them just as they die.

Death #15: The Everybody Dies

Rare. Tricky. Deeply powerful when done right. The time for characters like these is done. Their world is over. Their final great sacrifice, or noble last stand, or tragic Bolivian gunfight was inevitable. But oh how brightly they burned in the end.

Look at how badass they were. Look how bravely they faced death. And remember what it meant! Perhaps we would not be alive today if not for their transformative deaths. We will never forget them. Also their death may spur us all on to victory/change/redemption.

Or maybe the Western is just over. We're gonna miss you, Butch and Sundance! Cue montage!

Death #16 (but not really): Apotheosis

Your character dies technically, but really they become one with the Prophets, God of Light, Force. AKA The Sisko. You can only really pull this off in genre or stuff that pretends not to be genre but really is. Modern variation: Uploaded into the A.I.

Apotheosis can work extremely well if done right. Star Wars does it a lot and it works pretty much every time. You get the OOMF of killing a major character, but you reassure the audience that "They will always be with us."

If handled poorly, it can feel like a huge cheat, but when done well, can be a very satisfying way to kill off your awesome main character at the end of a long series without totally pissing off your audience. Like I said... The Sisko.

FINAL WORDS!

There are lots more ways to kill characters, of course. Including the bad ways to kill.

The It Was Supposed to be a Cliffhanger &Then We Got Cancelled and Now They’re All Dead I Guess.

The That Actor Was a Prick So We Offed His Character and Didn’t Care How We Did It.

The Oh, I Realized I Didn’t Need That Character So Gave Them a Perfunctory Death.

But I think I’ve covered the major and better ways to handle offing a character.

So yeah. Sometimes characters need killing. Just remember, you need to make their deaths satisfying in terms of plot, character, and/or theme or you risk losing your audience.

There are no small deaths. Every character is some off-screen mother’s child. Make it count. Make it matter. Make it worth the pages/screen time.

But think about your favorite movies/books/tv show. I bet they all had memorable deaths. I bet you cried. ADMIT IT, YOU CRIED! Look, I cried when Mike died in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. I CRY EVERY TIME I READ IT.

(Mike = War is Hell/Sidekick Sacrifice/Fog of War)

Character Death is one of the most powerful tools in a writer's arsenal. Like all powerful tools, it should be used sparingly, thoughtfully, and for maximum impact. Give them the deaths they deserve!

And with that, I officially pronounce this spew dead. But don't feel bad. This spew will always be with us.

/endspew.

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civilization-illstayrighthere · 7 months

Note

Ahh wait there are too many good options!!🫣You're too good to us Rama!! What about 87. for VxKerry with a hint of silverdyne? ( Take as long as you like ofc🥺)

87. he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked

I think I probably took this in a slightly different way than you may have thought when requesting, but this prompt absolutely gripped me and i ran away with it :’D Kerry/v, with silverdyne / silverVdyne, ~3.5k, absolutely explicit rating lol

“I think we should kill him.” Johnny Silverhand says.

Standing side-by-side, V exhales a plume of cigarette smoke directly into Johnny, watching his engram form fractal before the smoke dissipates into the open air.

“We’re not killin’ nobody.” V grumbles, though he’s feeling less and less committed to that as he keeps his gaze focused on the scene unfolding on the patio below.

Kerry Eurodyne’s parties were something of a legend throughout Night City; even before V had met his now-input, they’d been preem front page screamsheet tabloid fodder, blurry photos of the who’s-who of Night City bumping shoulders, gossipy quips about who was allegedly bumping uglies.

V was finding the tabloids weren’t as far off as he would’ve liked. The music world was downright incestuous; it felt like half the people here had at one point been Kerry’s one night stand, input, output, brief fling or fancy, and fuck, when did Kerry even find the time to do anything other than doing someone?

But V held his tongue. The Rockerboy was his now, besides; all those other guys and girls were in the rearview, as much as Johnny had been hissing otherwise in his ear.

He wasn’t Johnny. Kerry was enjoying himself; he’d been so flippant about it when he’d mentioned throwing the party, but now here, V could see the man was in his element. He flitted between groups of people, laughed and chatted and preened. There was an extra swagger in his step, and not just because of the easy flow of booze and drugs. Kerry looked good in the limelight. V could share.

To a point.

Kerry had introduced him earlier to a bulwark of a man named Patryk, ostentatiously chromed but not entirely unsurprising; after all, plenty of mercs went the private celebrity bodyguard route for the lucrative pay and relative safety compared to running fixer gigs. Him being an ex of Kerry was unsurprising as well. He was relatively handsome; built with broad shoulders, a shaggy head of straw blonde hair and a firm handshake that V’s sure he would’ve really felt if his own hands were not military chrome.

Patryk grinned. He squeezed V’s hand a little harder. “B, was it?”

“V.” He corrected tightly, flashing his gold canines in a mirroring grin. He squeezed Patryk’s hand back. Kerry, already tipsy, just chuckled and threw his arm around V’s waist, and Patryk dropped his hand.

“Nice to meet you, B.”

Patryk kept grinning that shit-eating grin. Behind him, Johnny flickered into existence; arms crossed across his chest, he prowled around him with agitation, looking him up and down.

“Helluva ex.” He muttered. Getting closer, Patryk was oblivious to Johnny’s proximity and scowl. “Kerry always knew how to pick them.”

V only barely held his tongue, arms intertwining with Kerry’s as he settled a hand on his hip. He slipped a finger into a belt loop and pulled him in snug against his side. Kerry seemed genuinely oblivious as the conversation continued to whatever it was before V had wandered over to be introduced— or maybe, Johnny’s acerbic voice hissed in his head, he’s just enjoying all this attention. Kerry always liked having a couple of meatheads fight over him.

He could argue with Johnny that it’d been fifty years between when he knew Kerry and now. He could feel the want to do something stupid grow.

Maybe that was some of Johnny. Maybe that was a lot of V, who found Patryk’s gaze faltering to where his thumb traced the soft skin just above the waistband of Kerry’s tight pants, right under the hem of his tank as he held him close.

“— good talkin’ to you Patryk, but I gotta mingle.” Kerry finished. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to V’s cheek. “V?”

V flashed Patryk a smug smile, his hand dropping down to Kerry’s ass as he lead them away. He could feel Patryk’s stare on his back.

“Gonna grab another drink, you comin’?”

“Nah,” V excused himself, “gonna have a smoke outside, get some fresh air.” Maybe the irritation simmering in his blood was more nicotine cravings than jealousy; either way, one would soothe the other.

Kerry smiled; he knew the party wasn’t exactly V’s scene. “Come get me when you're done?”

“‘Course. You know I always wander back.”

The new second floor deck Kerry had built with the Us Cracks collaboration advance was nice; more importantly, it was empty and relatively quiet, save for the full thumping of the base from the music inside making the windows practically pulse. Chain smoking cigarettes and flicking the spent butts out into the waterfall feature was probably not the most social way to spend a party, but V was not a social creature by nature. He’d hold Kerry back.

He hadn’t expected to see Kerry descend the stairs below to the shadowed patio below; he definitely hadn’t expected to see him followed by Patryk, either.

“One punch to the trachea,” Johnny goads, “easy as syn-apple pie.”

“No.” V grouses.

“Just a little love tap to the temple.”

“We’re not killing anyone at Kerry’s house.” V replies to Johnny in his head, watching as the two talked below. The moving water kept him from hearing much of anything. It seemed Kerry had a similar idea as V, smoking as he chatted. “He’d immediately be suspected.”

“He’d get charged accessory at most.”

V rolls his eyes. “I don’t think he wants the media circus of what accessory at most will bring.” Eyes still on Kerry, he holds out his cigarette; he only briefly feels Johnny’s chapped lips on his palm, taking a short drag. He’d be more surprised at the sensation if he wasn’t so distracted. Patryk steps closer to Kerry; just as easily, Kerry keeps distance between them, his rumbling, nerve-filled chuckle rising over the dull roar of the waterfall.

“Like he doesn’t have the money to pay off whatever they might try and throw at ‘em.” Johnny complains.

“Again, I’m not fucking zeroing—“

Ice prickles up his throat as he watches the ex start to slowly corral Kerry backward, towards the darkness of the patio chairs; he can’t hear over the roar of the waterfall and the muffled din of the party still going on behind, but Kerry’s cringing body language and his reluctance couldn’t be telegraphed more clearly if he’d yelled it. The chrome fingers of V’s left hand twitch, instantly crushing the filter of the cigarette between them.

He’s expecting a smug “I told you so” from Johnny but is met, surprisingly, with a twin feeling of possessive fury, a second internal voice matching his own that is propelling him into immediate action. V vaults over the balcony railing; his reinforced tendons easily absorb the impact of the short fall when he lands in a crouch.

Save the lights coming through the glass where Kerry’s Aerondight is parked above, it’s relatively dark down here under the house; even the faraway lights of Night City don’t seem to pierce the gloom of the nook. Kerry’s eyes seem to glow.

“What’d I say, Pat?” Kerry’s voice is strong, but he’s cringing as his ex-output steps forward, “I’m not fuckin’ interested. I got a mainline.”

“Yeah,” the man purrs, “but he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked, does he?”

V straightens to standing. Spying V past Patryk’s shoulder, Kerry alights with recognition.

“You always moaned so sweet for me, baby doll,” Patryk practically croons as he advances. Kerry takes another step back— his heel catches the edge of a lounger, and when he falls back onto his ass with a “whuph,” Patryk perks up like a slavering dog over a bone. “You were the best cock sleeve I ever had, and I know for sure I was the only dick good enough to fill your sloppy boy cunt. Lemme remind you—”

V allows his next step to fall heavier.

The man’s shoulders stiffen, but he doesn’t turn around. “Fuck off. We’re busy.”

“Y’know, actually,” V clears his throat. “I think you’re done here.”

Patryk turns around. He’s got an inch or two on V; he looks him up and down with a sneer. “Ah, the little mainline.”

Johnny crackles into existence, pointedly placing himself between Patryk and Kerry, as if he could do anything; his Hand twitches towards the holster on his thigh.

“Yeah, uh,” V sniffs, real loud, real obnoxious, and he reaches up to scratch at his nose with one crooked finger. Purposefully, carefully, because all of the blades of his knuckles are fully deployed. Kerry’s gold looks real nice with all of his house's professional lighting, but he thinks the way the lights plays off his silver serrated edges look good, too. “Man of the hour already asked you to, but now I’m insistin’. You should delta, choom.”

“Yeah?” Patryk snorts. He rolls his broad shoulders. “Make me.”

Kerry shakes his head, raking a hand through his hair. “Patryk, please just fuckin’ go—“

Patryk whirls, snapping, “shut the fuck up, Eurodyne.”

The man’s chipped, of course— Kerry had a type, unfortunately— but the momentary dumb display of anger gives V an easy turned back to lunge towards, viper-quick, to grab the back of his neck with one hand and the back of his shirt with the other.

He can feel Johnny’s anger nipping at his heels, coursing through his veins of blood and chrome plasma alike— Patryk immediately grapples for V’s arm as he walks the man stumbling towards the edge of the patio, hand fisted into the meat of his neck so tightly he thinks he could crush his spine if his grip twitched just so. He barely feels the ex’s fingernails biting into his syn-skin as he scrabbles against his arms.

“First of all, you’ve got a lot of fuckin’ balls just coming here.”

The roar of the waterfall nearly drowns out V’s snarl, though he knows Patryk can hear him.

“Second, cute as you think that B bullshit was, my name is fucking V, you got that? V, the one who zeroed Jotaro, cleared out countless Scav nests, makes Maelstrommer’s shit their pants, goes solo toe-to-toe with Arasaka and Militech spec ops,” V grits out with a swiftly rising fury, coinciding with a ramping of his processors that has the chrome in his body audibly humming with the promise of violence.

“The VDB that are left call me Agau, the Wraiths call me Dakota’s dog, but you, princess?”

V grins as Patryk’s face drops.

“You can call me V.”

He thrusts him into the direct steam of the waterfall, sudden enough that he knows Patryk takes a full gulp as soon as he’s under. Warnings flash in the corners of his vision’s HUD as he deploys all his chrome to keep him there; he can feel his body temperature rapidly rise, his chrome tendons creaking and some of the closest spray turning into mist where it touches exposed skin.

“And then bothering your ex-output? Kerry fuckin’ Eurodyne? You’re not even worthy of lookin’ at his fuckin’ reflection. The stupidity of that, choombatta, I mean—“ V chuckles tightly, barely upholding the veneer of a casual conversation atop his white hot rage. He pulls the man out of the spray; he wheezes, flailing uselessly under his grasp.

“W-wait—“

“Nah, think I’m done waiting.” V interrupts, further cutting the man off by thrusting him back under the torrent. Choking loudly, his struggles grow more frantic as he keeps taking on water. “You wanna talk more about my output? My output? ‘Cause clearly he wasn’t interested in you and your pathetic dick, so even when he kept saying no, you really had to push, huh?”

All V would need to do was let go and this two-enny hack would tumble right over the side of the cliff-face. His body wouldn’t stop until he had rolled all the way down to Charter Hill.

“I want you to keep Kerry’s name out of your mouth, you got that?” V snarls, “mine too, while you’re at it. I’ll bounce your skull off the pavement if I so much as catch you thinkin’ his name again.”

He’s clearly a merc; hell, V might’ve even seen him skulking around the Afterlife. He could threaten his ties he’s got with fixers, scare him out of work until he had to leave the city to even make an enny with his name. But V didn’t need anyone else's name to invoke fear; not a fixer, not Kerry’s, not Johnny’s, nobody but himself.

It takes a moment before he realizes Patryk can’t respond while still under the water; he pulls him out, impatiently listening to him hack and wheeze in a full breath.

“I got it, I-I got it, alright,” Patryk sputters, clutching fruitlessly at V. All the bravado’s been wiped from him; there is snot down his face, spittle across his lips as he gasps, “man, I’m sorry!”

V slaps the whimpering merc across the face, open-handed, laughs at the way he flinches and cringes. When V steps back and tosses him onto the ground, away from the edge, his left fist balling up in his peripheral is silver.

“Get the fuck out of my sight.” V spits.

The man scrambles to his feet—tries to, but the fear is making his limbs uncoordinated, and slick from the waterboarding, he stumbles and falls face first onto the deck. It takes another try before he’s up and running, dripping, the long way around and away.

V could follow the bastard, and watching his disappearing back makes something predatory pulse in him; he wants to hunt him down, a hound to a hare, press his teeth to the back of his neck until he crunches through bone and shake his body until he goes limp. He wants to rend him in two; wants to carve his name, his moniker, into his skin with his knuckles, a potent portent to any other gonk who thinks they could even conceive of laying a hand on what’s his and his alone—

“V…” Kerry’s voice, unnaturally small, breaks through behind him.

V turns. He crosses the gap between them in a few long strides, immediately dropping a knee onto the patio chair between Kerry’s legs to bend down and cup his face; he’s unharmed, and shaking, though maybe that’s actually V’s hands trembling in the comedown as his body starts to unwind from its tight coil.

“Ker.“ He murmurs, swiping a slick thumb over Kerry’s cheekbone, his temples, leaving behind a trace of wetness that makes the gold inlaid in his skin shine, “you alright? You okay?”

Kerry’s chest heaves. He says nothing; he kisses him, meeting him with a voracity that makes V groan, muffled by his lips and tongue. When Kerry fists his hand into V’s mullet and yanks his head back, he goes as docile as a lamb, only just managing to silence the whine bouncing behind his bared teeth.

“I thought you were gonna kill him.” Kerry breathes. His lips are spit-slick, just a touch puffy from the abuse of the hard kiss.

“You want me to?” V demurs. “I’ll go get ‘im. I meant it all. I’d do it for you, Ker.”

Kerry sucks in a breath. “Fuck, V.”

“Throw him off the side, pummel him to a paste, whatever you like.” V continues, a deluge of words on the current, “I’ll go out there and do it now, gorgeous, you just give the word.” He feels frenzied, only kept in check by Kerry’s ringed fingers holding him tight by the root of his hair. “Let me kill him for you.”

Kerry’s blue Kiroshis are so bright, just a sliver around the dark, fat pupils. He looks tempted. He looks drunk off the ultraviolence of it all. V would give him everything; he doesn’t even need to ask, not when Kerry looks at him like hat.

“You would, huhn?” Kerry quietly marvels. He reaches up, rubs his thumb over one of the prominent scars patterned across V’s cheek; he turns into his touch, mollified.

He pulls V into another harsh kiss by the back of his head; their moans muffle underneath each other's lips.

V’s greedy hands roam downward. He paws at his sides, gropes his chest. Beneath him, Kerry arches. The thought of that fuck touching Kerry comes back to mind, unbidden, and he feels another fresh bolt of possessive fury course down his spine.

“You’re mine,” V mouths against Kerry’s bearded cheek, and his voice lowers a too-familiar octave when he repeats, “mine.”

Kerry shudders. When V pulls back, his eyes are dragged behind Kerry; leaning back against the lounger, Johnny reclines. They hold eye contact for a beat. If he was solid, Kerry would be in between his legs, lying against his chest; now, his flak jacket wavers where Kerry clips into him. He strokes an unfelt hand down the length of Kerry’s neck, and his cyberware; V follows the motion, and Kerry bares his neck with a groan, slides his hand up to cradle V’s. Underneath those million-eddy hands, V’s blades lie dormant.

“Fuck, V,” Kerry croaks, intertwining their fingers; he lets his head fall back, his hips rocking, his body a delicious supine. Johnny's hands follow where Kerry drags V’s down, across his collarbone, pushing at the neckline of his white tank top.

He wants what’s underneath; he doesn’t take a moment of reflection, hooking his fingers into the collar and ripping the shirt down the middle with an elastic tear.

He can feel the collective weight of their stare on Kerry’s exposed body, even if he’s none the wiser; V cups his pec, really takes his time to squeeze him, lets his flesh bounce a little under his hand. Only when Kerry starts to squirm does V run his thumb over one of Kerry’s pert nipples, pinching it sharply before rolling the pad over in a soothing, rocking motion. The breathless noise Johnny makes is nearly drowned out by Kerry’s breathless panting.

“Wanna fuck you.” V mumbles. He pinches Kerry’s nipples again; watches his body arch into the twin pain and pleasure, as enraptured with that as by the silver hand possessively stroking up and down his neck. “Can I?”

“Jesus, kid, like you have to ask—“ Kerry groans. And he seems to realize the irony, an almost wild laugh escaping him as he starts to writhe underneath V, fumbling to shove down the tight pants clinging to his hips. “Of course, fuck, fuck me.”

Anyone could come downstairs to the waterfall loungers, looking for the man of the hour; if they did, they’d see Kerry Eurodyne, hastily stripped down to only his ripped tank hanging off him like a vest, getting down on his hands and knees like a dog in heat, reaching back and spread himself with a growled command to “spit.”. They’d see the best merc in Night City get on his knees and do him one better, pressing his face inbetween where Kerry was shaved smooth and lick his hole, over and over, until the man was mewling under his tongue.

They wouldn’t see a silver hand stroking down Kerry’s spine, detouring across the freckles that still dot his syn-skin. They wouldn’t see Johnny Silverhand perched on the back of the lounger, watching them both, the front of his leather pants painfully tented. He’s silent as he palms himself, his heavy gaze shifting between the two of them. That was just for V.

V gets his pants down just under the curve of his ass, pulling out his cock; with only spit as lube, it takes a few moments of delicious, tight stretching before he’s in, and then he’s fucking Kerry in slow, deep thrusts, hips slapping hard against his ass each time. He takes him so well; fits perfectly around his cock, clinging tight each time V nearly pulls out, moans when V buries himself back in to the hilt.

V’s eyes slip closed in rapture. Only for a moment; his face jerks to the side as a slap lands soundly on his cheek, and when he opens his eyes, Johnny is glowering there, gripping his chin tightly.

“Keep your goddamn eyes open, V.” Johnny says. His voice is wrecked with disuse; with want. “And fuck him harder.”

He flickers back to the lounger, hungrily watching Kerry and V. V can feel Johnny’s annoyance simmering under the surface, too keyed up to hide his thoughts; he wants to be there, he wants to fuck Kerry until the plastic slats imprint into his knees. But time is dwindling for V, and this is as close as he can be; stroking his cock in time to V’s brutal thrusts, drinking in the sight of Kerry’s arched spine, the way his ass bounces on impact, the moans he wrenches from his output. Their output, and his; and that’s one and the same.

And that scares them both.

#silverdyne #silvervdyne #Kerry eurodyne #johnny silverhand #cp 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #Nsft #stomping in a glass house

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panelshowsource · 7 months

Note

If you had to pick a top three favorite episodes of any panel shows EVER, which would you choose? One of mine would have to be Terry Wogan guest hosting old NMTB, which I am dying to watch again in my lifetime. Your old-NMTB-posting reminded me just how amazing and formative those old episodes were for me. Anyway, it got me thinking… I would love to hear yours!

as long as i'm allowed to answer this totally subjectively...! because the objectively most iconic panel show episodes are probably quite different to the ones i gravitate to especially for rewatching — and especially in this difficult recent climate 🫥

this choice is almost bizarre knowing me, a huge huge huge sean lock fan, but this episode of cats does countdown — without sean! and not even golden era, probably, whatever that is in my mind — is so ridiculous and chaotic and stupid that i've watched it about 1000 times. there's something very specific about the dynamic between jimmy, jon, roisin, and joe without sean; those four have been in quite a few episodes without sean and they're like actual children without an adult in the room: jon is goofier and completely lets go of the game, jimmy throws even more to roisin (we do not talk enough about what a fucking kick jimmy gets out of her), roisin and joe's insane sibling dynamic becomes next level. anyways—this episode, which includes rly funny mascots, glory hole, the fucking hoop game and joe eating an onion and jon eating peppers???, THE UNICORN, its sheer childishness just cracks me up every time :') (if we're gonna mention the golden age, 2.02 is very iconic — from rhod killin it and always arguing with jimmy to claude to nick x susie hahaha but i have sooooo many catsdown episodes i love love love)

i really love the episode of 8 out of 10 cats following jimmy's tax scandal. it's not one of my favourite panel shows in general, but the circumstances of the news and the discussion epitomised what the show was meant to be: panel show meets reality tv meets a comedy central roast. watching that live, as the news was running it so heavily that even the prime minister mentioned it, as the press and twitter were reacting to it... wild times. it holds up incredibly well — it's hilarious watching them rip him to shreds, because he deserves every word and they're having a ball doing it to him, and i really appreciate jon grounding the conversation in just how tax avoidance hurts their country and some of its hardest workers — a really interesting, engaging mix of comedy and anger and wit and disappointment and political commentary that is not only funny but strikingly relevant no matter how much time passes. like so, so many people who were so, so disappointed in jimmy, this was the foundation of his carrying the responsibility, shame, reflection, and growth that people wanted to see — and that he truly needed to. since then he's talked a lot about not only righting the wrong (in paying back what he owed in avoidance) but just how the system is so broken — and taking the least complicated, most honest road forward since.

now i want to pick 1000 different things this is why i don't make lists or rank things!!!!! while my instinct is to pick a big fat quiz, i'm actually gonna go top-level nostalgia and say this episode of buzzcocks when stephen fry was a guest. what can i say — simon, stephen, it was two intellectual, mildly bitchy homosexuals on a stacked panel including josie long, dominic cooper, and yet another skinny white rock man for simon to pretend he's not trying to flirt with. stephen saying "there is a history, in pop music, of recto-veginal insertion" and denouncing god, like, in the first 5 minutes? stephen doing the intros round?? did i mention history boys-era dominic cooper??? such a throwback!!! (not to cheat but this ep with josh groban & martin freeman is my runner up)

i want to apologise to big fat quiz, taskmaster, wilty... THE WHOLE HISTORY OF PANEL SHOWS... I WISH I COULD CHOOSE YOU ALL

#roamingbadger #a

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Part 18

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 17 🍂 Part 19

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, p-in-v sex, (accidental) period sex, mentions of blood (combined with period sex? shocker...), praise kink situations and dirty talking Sy (mild), and some general awkwardness and unreasonable hormonal yelling.

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae there you go, babygirl, more of your fave. I still owe up until 20... Strange...

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

The floors you couldn’t have cared less about, but this bathroom. It was everything you had hoped it would be and included a shower that was a lot less cramped when you tried to fit twice the conventional amount of people in it. Patrick and Sy had worked really hard to get it done before the end of the week, and had somehow succeeded, which was great. You had ended up giving Sy the go-ahead to go nuts on his ideas - provided he’d fix it if you hated it, which he had promised you with a cocky grin on his face – which meant you now had a very dark bathroom that felt a little too luxurious to have in your own house. Now, every time you set foot in the room, you smiled – usually. Today was not one of those days.

“Sy!” The tears that were in your eyes were apparently also in your voice, because Sy’s worried face appeared in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“Did you take the last Aleve?” Fuck! How could you be out of painkillers right now?

“I didn’t,” Sy replied. That could have been a lie, but it also easily could have been the truth. Either way, he was the only living, breathing thing to take your frustration out on, and you were going to. Because you were in pain, bleeding, and hormonal. So, there.

“Are you sure?” Yeah, that didn’t sound friendly. You were definitely snapping at him. He didn’t deserve that. “Sorry.”

“Y’alright, Sugar?” He wrapped his arms around you – which was nice. You laid your head against his chest, trying to fight back the tears that were forming in your eyes. For the first time, it really dawned on you that you had moved in with Sy before your relationship had even reached the ‘peeing with the door open’-phase, and that that could be a problem. You wanted to tell him that your stomach felt as if someone was trying to cut his way through your guts with a butterknife, but suddenly he was just the brand-new boyfriend you didn’t feel needed to know about your period-related problems - or the fact that it was approaching at all.

“I’m fine, Sy,” you eventually said, “it’s just a headache.” You pushed against his chest so he would let you go and made your way over to your bed. Sy was right behind you, climbing in beside you and immediately pulling you against him, sneaking a hand underneath your pajamas. You could tell he found it odd you were wearing anything to bed, to begin with – and it probably was. When Sy’s hand found its usual place, securely holding your boob in place – not that it was going anywhere – you winced. It wasn’t pain, necessarily, although your boobs were definitely extra sensitive right now, but rather the extremely inconvenient side effect that you were… ‘super fucking horny’ would just about cover it.

“Sy, fuck off!” Again, you were well aware of the fact that this man had done absolutely nothing to deserve being snapped at like this.

“Y’know, Sugar,” he said, his voice grim, “the worst part of all this is that I think I might have a pretty decent idea of what’s goin’ on. But you’ll have my head if I dare to even suggest it.” He was probably right about that. Why was it so hard to talk about this?

“Sweetheart, I know you know what I’m tryin’ to say,” he said as he sighed, “will you just let me ask without killin’ me?” Now it was your turn to sigh, before reluctantly agreeing to what he was asking.

“Are you on your period, Sugar?” You winced when he said it – God knows why – and nodded, before realizing that was hardly an answer.

“No,” you said, “but my stomach and head are killing me, which means the festivities will start in two days.” You knew yourself; you were facing two days of this hell, then four days of extra-hell, and after that there was a slight chance you might function again. Sy moved his hand from your chest to your stomach, lingering and drawing patterns with his fingers until you grabbed his hand and moved it to the place where it hurt the most. He pulled you closer. The pressure of his hand felt so good it made you sigh with relief, especially when he started to rub the area of your stomach his hand was on. Soft moans crept over your lips as you finally forgot about the pain for a minute, but after a while you made him stop.

“Not good?” His voice was soft in your ear, his breath hot on your neck – that didn’t fucking help.

“So good,” you whined. When he heard your answer, Sy resumed his massage, and it felt so good that you didn’t want to stop him. After a while, you were squirming in his arms, grinding your ass into him. He chuckled softly.

“What do you want?” His tone was provocative, his question unnecessary, and you knew he was still going to make you answer.

“You,” you answered, plain and simple. There wasn’t much more to be said.

“I’m not in the mood for teasing, babe,” you said as Sy softly kissed your neck. To be perfectly honest, you were in the mood for letting Sy fuck you into the mattress so hard you couldn’t walk in the morning – but you didn’t dare to ask him for that. Nevertheless, you were horny, wet, and ready, and you needed this man inside of you now. Sy, in the spirit of the true gentleman that wouldn’t dream of denying a lady her wish, had you naked in a matter of seconds. His hand moved away from your stomach and settled in between your legs, where his fingers drew tight circles around your clit. He pulled you closer against him as he worked you closer and closer towards your climax. You felt his hard cock against your ass as he did. Eventually, the feeling of his teeth grazing you neck – exactly in that spot he knew drove you absolutely wild – was your undoing. He chuckled when you fell apart in his arms.

“Good girl,” he said softly as he gently guided you back down from your peak. Suddenly, you felt the head of his cock slide along your wet slit, and you threw your hips back, begging for him to finally thrust into you. A loud moan escaped you when he finally did, your walls clenching down hard on his cock as he moved inside of you.

“Wait,” you gasped when the second thrust hit you wrong. It took a few tries to find the perfect angle, but once you did, it was fantastic. Every time Sy pushed into you, he brushed past the right spot, and you tried your best to match his movements. Soon, you were not quite screaming his name, but moaning it very loudly nonetheless, as your own hand found its way between your legs and you worked your way towards your second orgasm, aided by the steady rhythm of Sy slamming into you.

“You gonna come for me, Sugar?” Sy growled in your ear. The words made you gasp – you were still not entirely used to the way he talked to you, but you were getting there… You answered him with a breathy ‘yeah’, which he replied to with another dark chuckle. “C’mon then, I want you to come all over my cock.” His words were enough to pull you over the edge.

“Fuck, Sugar,” he grunted as your clenching walls asked too much of his self-control, “you’re too fucking tight.” After both of you had taken a moment to catch your breath, Sy got out of bed to head out to the bathroom. You took a little while longer to move, because your cramps had the audacity to return.

“Alright, darlin’, now don’t freak out,” Sy said. He was apparently somehow unaware that that was probably the one sentence you didn’t use when you didn’t want someone to freak out, “but I think you may have started your period early.” Oh God, no! Nope, you were definitely freaking out. Or mortified. Was there really a difference? And if so, did it really matter which of the two you were right now? Of course it didn’t fucking matter! Fact of the matter was that you had just casually been bleeding all over your boyfriend’s dick, and that was… Well ‘awful’ may have just been the understatement of the century. You covered your head with the blankets in a hopeless attempt to hide from reality.

“Sugar, it don’t look like no crime scene, we’ll take care of it in the mornin’,” he said almost sternly, “right now we’re gonna take a shower, and then we’re just gonna go to sleep.” When Sy left for the bathroom, you stayed in bed until you heard the water turn on, and then you performed your own little inspection of the sheets. You had to admit he was right; it didn’t look like the scene of a double homicide – hell, you had more than once gotten more blood on a bath towel after shaving your legs – but you couldn’t shake the embarrassment you felt. That meant it was absolutely impossible to head into the bathroom; there was no way you could look Sy in the eye after this. Apparently, he had other plans, because he called for you twice, and then the door opened. If you’d ever get used to the sight of Sy in nothing but a towel – why did it have to hang so low on his hips? – you had no idea, but right now, you just froze. It was convenient for him; he just walked over to you and threw you over his shoulder like it was nothing.

“Put me down, please,” you groaned. This was even more embarrassing than the whole previous episode, and that was saying something. He did put you down; in the shower, and he didn’t seem intent on letting you go.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “and I’m sorry.”

“Sugar, you realize I seriously don’t give a damn, right?” No, as a matter of fact you hadn’t considered that option. Of course you could have deduced this from the laid back and practical way with which he’d reacted to this circus, but that was far too easy, right? Your answer must have been clear from the way you looked at him, because he continued, with a wicked grin on his face. “Honestly, if you were throwin’ any less of a fit about this, I’d suggest we go again.” You smacked him on the shoulder. “Sy!” Once again, he managed to make you laugh when you really didn’t think you were ever going to again. “Maybe next month.”

#syverson x ofc #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fic #syverson smut #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters #henry cavill filth

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impala-dreamer · 1 year

Text

Hold On

A little comfort for anyone in pain...

Dean Winchester x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader, Soldier Boy x Reader

870 Words

Warnings: Unspecified Pain (chronic, injury, etc). Comfort.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn. It was barely midday, but the pain had forced you back to bed. Guilt made you get up that morning, guilt and responsibilities, but the struggle was too hard, the pain spreading down your back and through every nerve was too much to take.

The doctor had shrugged and tossed another bottle of useless meds in your face. Some horrible pill that made your head foggy and your feet basically useless. It was bad enough that the numbness made you drop things, rending your fingers inert, but to barely be able to balance, to walk properly? It was too horrible.

Life was flying past you and there was nothing you could do to grab hold of it and participate. Every move was agony, every time out was a guilt trip.

Your pillow was a comfort but even laying atop the soft mattress was painful. The hurt was intense and tears sprang to your eyes as you tried to shift into a comfortable position.

“Son of a fucking whore!”

Your cry drew him into the room. The door creaked open and the stream of light from the hallway hit your face. You cringed and lifted a hand to block it.

“Baby? You OK?”

Sniffling, you cleared your throat. “Yeah. Fine. I’m fine.”

Green eyes took in the scene and a frown curled plump lips downwards. He crossed his arms, spread his bowed legs, settled in. “Don’t look too fine to me. It’s eleven in the morning and you’re in bed.”

The hard drop of tone and familiar inflection made you smile and reach out a hand.

“Hey, Dean?”

He smiled down at you and slid his palm gently against yours. “Yeah?”

“Hold me? Please?”

“Of course…”

Carefully, he crawled onto the bed, conscious not to jolt you around or knee you in the back as he laid behind you. His arms were warm and heavy, draping perfectly around your waist, fitting into the dip like you’d been matching puzzle pieces lost at birth.

He pressed his chest into your back, fit his chin upon your shoulder, holding you tight. His breath was hot and comforting, scented with peanut butter. You breathed deep and for the first time all day felt the pain ease just a bit. The edge was blurring under his touch and you wished that you could stay there just like that, forever.

Dean lifted his lips to your ear and whispered, “Better?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Good.” He nuzzled in, dropping sweet kisses along your jaw and neck. Always tender, always careful not to push to hard or hold you too tight.

“It’s gonna be OK, Y/N/N,” he said, all the faith of heaven and hell and beyond in his husky voice. “I promise.”

Relaxation washed over you and the worst of the pain vanished. You flexed your right hand and the pins and needles slowly subsided.

“Where you been all my life, Dean Winchester?” you asked, slowly spinning around to face him.

He was smiling so beautifully, eyes so full of love that you nearly wept. He was perfect. He was home.

Dean laughed gently. “Well… been busy killin’ monsters and getting impaled on a fucking peice of rebar.” Jensen rolled his eyes. “That fucking rebar…”

It hurt to laugh, but you had too. Jensen was never, ever going to let that go.

“You should get that tattooed on your forehead. ‘Dean Deserved Better’.”

“Yeah.” He sighed and licked his lips, hugging you close. “What about you? You really OK? Do we need to call Dr. What’sHisName?”

Quickly, you shook your head. “No. There’s nothing he can do. I just have to ride it out, I guess.”

Jensen’s face fell, his eyes welled. “I just wish there was something I could do. I hate seeing you like this. It’s frustrating and I’m… fucking useless.”

“Hey.” You scowled at him. “Stop that. You’re not useless. You just gave me Dean cuddles. What girl wouldn’t want that?”

A small smile returned. “I guess. Just- I wish there was more I could do.”

Thinking for a moment, you chewed on your lip and then grinned. “You could always have Soldier Boy come and punch my lights out so I can nap…”

A quiet but full laugh shook his body and Jensen smacked his lips. “You don’t want that, trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you argued with a laugh, “Ben’s got them big strong arms, super powers… Probably wouldn’t take to much to knock me out.”

Jensen took a deep breath and squared his jaw. His brows creased, he lifted his chin just enough so that she could see her superhero.

“I’m not gonna knock you out, doll, but nice try.”

A shiver trekked down your spine and you pushed in close, kissing him deeply.

Jensen moaned against you and pulled back an inch, his big hand cradling your cheek. “Whatever I can do, I will. You know that, right?” He kissed you softly. “You’re going to be OK. I promise. You just gotta hold on ‘till then.”

“How ‘bout I hold on to you?” you whispered, fingers bunching in his shirt.

He smiled and brushed a tear free from your eye. “Even better.”

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works ~ Buy Me A Coffee ~ Feedback is Gold

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@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @leigh70 @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library

#jensen acles #soldier boy #dean winchester #comfort #hurt/comfort #fanfiction

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nsomniacsdream · 3 days

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Before it's illegal to say anything objectionable on the internet:

Some people need killin. Every day they are still alive, they commit unquantifiable levels of harm to everyone around them and within their sphere of influence. A lot of them are politicians, or capitalists. I'm not specifically talking about like your landlord, but for a lot of them, the world would be a better place if they weren't in it. I want to talk about the wolves and sheeps parellel, where if you have a community where 'everyone is welcome, both wolves and sheep' then eventually you'll just have wolves, because they drove out all the sheep. This scales to society at large as well. As long as there's enough people willing to prop up, Trump for example, they have the capacity and inclination to cause harm. At his age, he cannot be convinced not to. I'm not saying no one can be redeemed or retaught, i'm saying that a lot of them can't. They're acting reasonably (in their own mind) so arguments don't work. A 20 year old who's just starting out at his dad's company? you can fix him. probably. But the world doesn't owe them unlimited time and resources to get better more than the people they'll be harming the entire time they're learning deserve to live lives without some asshole ruining their lives.

#personal thoughts #100 percent stand behind tho

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stannyramirez · 5 months

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𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

“I need some salves and shit for intense body beatings!” “Look, my husband got the living shit beat out of him and it’s all my fault!” “Help me take his pain away, pronto!” “You’re a fucking idiot. That’s what you are.” “This ain’t fucking Jurassic Park.” “I am so embarrassed for you because I am a professional martial artist.” “Come on. Let’s just you and me hang.” “Well, you know I love a sibs-free hang sesh.” “I’ll rip your asshole out and eat it and kill you!” “Get this pillowcase off my fucking face!” “These fucking animals snatched me straight out my whip!” “I figured out the part about the cousins being involved, maybe you can find some fucking clues, too.” “Let me guess, you were sitting there quitting, giving up.” “I am in no mind space to be teased right now.” “We have been kidnapped, you fucking bitches!” “Puke on yourself and eat it, please.” “Is that you in here screaming like a bitch?” “Well, we’re going to ransom you to your daddy for money.” “You deserve this life, dude!” “I can’t see you, but I can smell ya.” “Why don’t you laugh in my face, you motherfucker?” “It’s not funny to do jokes like that.” “And how can I help you on this blessed day?” “You ruined my life. You didn’t think I was gonna make you pay?” “Five million a head.” “You must think I’m fucking stupid.” “I sure do think you’re stupid, but what does that have to do with anything?” “Oh, no. You got your facts mixed up.” “You’re a self-righteous asshole.” “It’s filthy as fuck in here.” “Chicken doo-doo is getting all ground into my fuckin’ seduction dress!” “How can you eat in this dirty-ass heat?” “When that door opens and the little one walks in, I’m gonna slay him, cut his fuckin’ face off, and wear it as a mask.” “Sounds insane and not doable.”

“Serves you right, trying to argue with me.” “You know, literally, that is the thing that pisses me off the most about you. Every single time I suggest anything, you’re so eager to just jump down my throat, punch holes in my shit.” “Homeboy, like you’re not trying to always argue with me.” “You’re constantly acting like I’m gonna mess everything up.” “You do mess everything up.” “I will fucking kill you!” “I demand to be held captive in a private silo right now! ...Please!” “I wondered what that was, but I thought it rude to ask.” “Stop crying! Ain’t nobody gonna ransom you!” “That’s a good job with the voodoo dolls.” “Please, let me help. I’ll sacrifice my life and my body if need be.” “We’re gonna get more money than we know what to do with!” “I mean normally, yeah, I could, but you know, I am malnourished right now.” “Wanna see this? Freak athleticisms?” “Just do it. What’s wrong with you?” “Boy, your daddy didn’t leave you with much, did he?” “Your daddy threw money at you instead of raising you right.” “Fear of God is the best chance you got.” “If you don’t have the stomach for it, hell, I’ll do it.” “I don’t mind killin’. It ain’t nothin’ but a thing.” “Do your dumps, boy!” “He thinks that I don’t have it in me to hurt you.” “You don’t run nothing but your mouth.” “He chafes real bad, and a burnt rectal from cheap TP could make him very despondent.” “I bet no one’s gonna miss me.” “I don’t want my kids to be one of those kids that loses a parent like somebody in a fucking Disney movie.” “I don’t want my sons to be Bambis.” “I never want to be treated any differently than you guys just ‘cause I’m a lady.” “He ain’t following any sort of rules about ladies and mens.” “Kill the biggest one ‘cause he’s tough to handle.” “I know I get on your nerves, always riding you and shit. It’s just because I feel like somebody needs to make sure everything’s gonna turn out okay.” “You do get on my nerves, but if you get murdered, I promise to try and avenge you.” “Make sure that my wife and kids have a good life, watch after ‘em?” “Yeah, I feel like your kids are old enough to take care of themselves.” “I’m just gonna go into beast mode and start biting faces and dicks.” “If I die, please don’t remember me that way.” “Oh, god. Oh, shit. This is happening.” “I came all this way to bust you out of here.” “I’m sure that little dick would love to see me murdered.” “I mean, he might not mind you dead, but he wouldn’t want to see it happen.” “Did you call your mama and tattletale on us?” “Your brother there, he’s a big dope.” “You try stopping me, I’ll put another hole in your face.” “Kin don’t mean nothing.” “Family’ll turn on you on a dime. You gotta treat ‘em like you treat anybody else.” “Get the fuck out of the car.”

#sentence meme #rp meme #inbox meme #ask meme #meme #the righteous gemstones #vvmemes

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fuzzydreamin · 11 months

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What The Companions Say About... Feral Ghouls!

I'm posting these just because I find the companions in-game reactions to things rather interesting. You might be surprised by what some of them have to say about certain things.

These are just their dialogues for during combat, and after combat or walking through areas inhabited by this enemy type. It does not include anything from specific areas, quests, or other dialogue.

⌨ Ada

⌨: It's difficult to fathom that these ferals were once human. ⌨: Be certain to check every feral corpse, they tend to carry items useful to humans. ⌨: Radiation exposure can have an astonishing effect on human flesh…. oh, forgive me… I tend to forget the company I keep. ⌨: Perhaps one day you'll discover how to communicate with these feral ghouls. ⌨: {an attempt at humour} Ferals feast on human flesh, yet leave each other alone. A bit overcooked perhaps?

☘ Cait

☘: Shamblers! Take 'em down! ☘: Come on, you rad-spittin' zombies!

☘: Damn, these things reek! ☘: Shamblers! I hate these wretched things. ☘: Best thing about killin' a shambler is that dry sound they make when ya snap off their limbs. ☘: Good, I've been itchin' to bust some shambler heads. ☘: Goddamn shamblers. Only thing they're good for is torchin'.

⚙ Codsworth

⚙: Feral Ghouls! ⚙: {Neutral} Let's put these poor creatures out of their misery.

⚙: {a sincere sentiment} Feral Ghouls, a sorry lot, indeed. To lose one's mind slowly like that. ⚙: {with some bravado / Concerned} Be wary of Feral Ghouls, mum. ⚙: {a sincere sentiment} One ought remember the folly of man created these Feral Ghouls. ⚙: {talking to cover his nervousness} I imagine the scent of Feral Ghouls is most unpleasant. ⚙: {talking to cover his nervousness} What irony that radiation heals the Feral Ghoul.

⚕ Curie

⚕: Monsieur Platt predicted this condition. It appears he was correct. ⚕: A "ghoul." Most intriguing. Starting recording. ⚕: Detecting an increase in radiation. ⚕: One must wonder, what causes the deterioration of this ghoul condition?

⚕: Some "ghouls" are in possession of their mental faculties. Others are not. Why? ⚕: Should ghouls be considered a new species? ⚕: I wonder if my oaths apply to ghouls, as well? ⚕: If you find any scientific journal articles on ghouls, I would be much obliged. ⚕: I should give a ghoul a full physical. I am certain the data would be very interesting.

♞ Danse

♞: Die, you godless heathen! Die! ♞: No mercy! Blow it's goddamn head off! ♞: Exterminate the heathens! ♞: Godless bastard! To hell with you!

♞: Skinwalkers, ferals, shamblers… call them whatever you like, but they're not human. ♞: Ferals might have been human once, but now they're scavengers of human flesh. ♞: If it was up to me, I'd make it my life's work to wipe these things off the face of the planet. ♞: Extermination is the best these ferals deserve. ♞: The only things ferals are good for is scraping the mud off of my boots.

🕶 Deacon

🕶: We got ferals. 🕶: Anyone got some holy water? I always wanted to try that on them.

🕶: I avoid ferals if I can help it. 🕶: Glory came up with the bright idea of putting ferals in the catacombs. Not a fan. 🕶: More ferals. Great. 🕶: Some jackasses call ferals "ghouls". Like ghouls don't have enough problems. 🕶: Bet you crapped your pants the first time you saw a feral. I know I did.

☠ Gage

☠: I'm doing you a favour here, slimeball. ☠: Keep your irradiated ass away from me!

☠: I ever start looking anything like that, I hope someone puts me down fast. ☠: Being a ghoul's a fate worse than death. ☠: They look like shit, but damn if they can't move. Watch yourself. ☠: God I hate ghouls. Never know when one is gonna pop out at you.

☣ Hancock

☣: {Apologetic} Sorry, pal. ☣: {A tad remorseful / Neutral} Had to be Ferals.

☣: {Question} Ghouls, huh? You lookin' to fix me up? ☣: {Neutral} Least Raiders and Mutants have the politeness to know when to die. ☣: {Neutral} Ferals sure make it easy to forget they were ever people. ☣: {Amused} Lotta good lookin' faces around here. You gonna introduce me? ☣: {Question} Wonder how close I came to going feral. Or maybe I did? ☣: {Neutral} Poor bastards. ☣: {Neutral} Hate to put down a fellow Ghoul. ☣: {Neutral} Shame. There were some lookers in that group.

☸ Longfellow

(All of Longfellow's lines have the {You're disgusted by ghouls and a little afraid of the idea of becoming one} note) ☸: Don't you worry, if I see you turnin' into a ghoul, I'll put a bullet in you quick. ☸: Damn… can't think of a worse fate than turnin' into a ghoul. ☸: Way I see it, killin' a ghoul's an act o' mercy. ☸: A ghoul's lost every shred of what once made 'em human. I'd rather be dead than one of them. ☸: They might look like shamblin' corpses, but ghouls are lightnin' quick. Don't let 'em flank ya.

⨁ MacCready

⨁: Feral over here! ⨁: {Mimic (mocking) zombie grunt noise} Eeeeehhhh! Shut up!

⨁: Oh good, ferals. Like shooting ghouls in a barrel. ⨁: I can't believe these things move so fast. ⨁: If too much radiation leads to looking like that, I think I'd rather die. ⨁: Yeah, they were people once. But trust me, their humanity vanished the moment they changed. ⨁: Oh god, not these walking piles of flesh again.

♥ Nick

♥: {Stern} Sorry, folks. Won't be chewing on us. ♥: {Stern} Nasty cannibals.

♥: {Neutral} Wandered into College Square on my own once. Never seen so many Ghouls in one place. ♥: {Neutral} Sometimes you can still make out the person in there. ♥: {Neutral} First time I met a Feral, I hoped it would ignore me because I wasn't made of meat. Guess they'll eat anything. ♥: {Neutral} Keep your distance. Ferals hit hard. ♥: {Sombre} Poor bastards.

✉ Piper

✉: {Neutral} Watch your digits, Blue. Ferals. ✉: {Neutral} Poor Ghoul bastards.

✉: {Question} Nasty cannibals… wait, are Ghouls cannibals? They don't eat each other, right? ✉: {Stern} These things stopped being people a long time ago. ✉: {Neutral} Mayor McDonough chased all the Ghouls out of Diamond City. I wonder if any of them ended up out here. ✉: {Neutral} Ghouls love to play peek-a-boo. Keep your eyes open. ✉: {Playful / Amused} I don't have to outrun the Ghouls, Blue. I just have to outrun you.

☀ Preston

☀: Ferals! Don't let them get behind you! ☀: Oh, dammit. Ferals. ☀: Come on, you zombie bastard.

☀: Those things are the worst menace in the Commonwealth. ☀: When I was a kid, these things gave me nightmares. ☀: The scariest thing about ferals is they used to be people like us. ☀: If I ever turn into one of these things, you have my permission to put two in my skull. ☀: You can smell these ferals a mile away, if you're down wind. ☀: Nobody seems to know exactly what makes a normal ghoul turn feral. Kind of scary.

☢ Strong

☢: Ghouls not worthy foes. Bad warriors. ☢: Human, shoot ghouls. Don't let ghouls get close. ☢: Watch for glow. Ghouls with glow are bad. ☢: Ghoul flesh taste bad. ☢: Worthless glowy ghouls.

☾ X6-88

☾: {Emphasis on "they"... disapproval} Ghouls... without the Institute, they'd be the future of humanity. ☾: {Urging caution} Careful, ma'am. Ghouls are quicker than they look. ☾: {Disgust} That smell... should have brought a breath mask. ☾: {Urging caution} Don't let the shamblers surround you. ☾: {Almost sympathetic} If you ask me, ma'am, killing a ghoul isn't murder. It's more like mercy.

-----

So, interesting stuff right? Some things I found noteworthy:

Deacon doesn't call ferals 'ghouls' and tries to seperate the two, as a kindness to non-feral ghouls. Hancock does not make this seperation.

Both Cait and Preston use what can be considered slurs against ferals, such as 'zombie'. The word 'shambler' also comes up a few times with Cait and others.

Danse's issues with ghouls seem to have some religious untertones. Not all that surprising seeing as he is from the Capital, where both pre and post-war religion is popular.

Ghouls do not ignore Nick and will try to eat him.

Gage, Longfellow, Mac, and Preston all claim that they would rather die than become a ghoul.

Longfellow even says he will shoot you if you become one. (I didn't include dialogue from quests and the like, but Danse also has a line saying he will kill you if you turn into a ghoul.)

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #ghouls #fallout 4 dialogue #fuzzy.post #did some of these voice lines surprise you?

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savedpeople · 2 months

Note

2. Do you take pleasure in harming/being harmed by others? //4. Does bloodshed have any significant effect on you? //8. How do you feel about sadistic people?

Violent Headcanons | Not Accepting | @wexarethewalkingxdead

"Does a little bit of spilt blood bother me?" He makes a face, one that slowly gains a grin that's just a little too wide. "Have you seen the kind of shit I've done?"

Negan remembers, of course, the first time he took out a couple walkers. The splattered blood on his face as he slowly sank to the floor, horror-stricken, thinking he'd just become a murderer while trying to save a kid's life. It became second nature once he realized what they were, became the new normal within days.

He remembers the first time he actually took a human life, too. The blood half his, half theirs; the way his hands shook as he recollected himself while the reality of what he'd done sank in, wide eyes as he wrapped barbed wire around the baseball bat soon to be known as Lucille; and the mask, the act, he put on the moment he faced the group that witnessed it all.

That, too, soon became the new normal.

"That shit doesn't bother me." Not anymore. "I mean it is unfortunate, sometimes, and let me make it clear that I'm not into killin' people for the hell of it." People are a resource and all that. "But that's how the world is now. Kill or be killed."

"Now, do I take pleasure in-- hold on, is this a sex thing? Because it kind of sounds like we're heading into kinkville with this one." He chuckles at his own joke; the answer would be a resounding yes if it is, probably. But he knows it isn't.

"I ain't gonna lie to you. Sometimes? That shit feels good. When they deserve it, well... let them have it." It is satisfying to hurt, kill, someone who he deems deserves it. Consequences. And when he gets to use Lucille? There's a sick, twisted exhilaration he can't deny. But that's not to say he's proud of it.

He knows it shouldn't feel that good.

"Don't know why the hell you think I'd get anything out of getting hurt, though. Again, unless this is a sex thing. In that case I may just let you slap me around a little bit."

Negan laughs, but his expression turns more serious after.

"Like I said: not into killing people without a reason. I extend that to not hurting people without reason, too." He tries to, anyway. Some of his actions might suggest otherwise, but he finds ways to justify it all in his mind. "So if the sadistic fucks out there are getting their dicks hard from harming the weak and the innocent... personally, I find that shit to be a bit barbaric." He believes this, really he does. "And if Lucille saw that shit? Well, she'd have something to say about it too."

#welcome back negan lmao missed ya buddy #wexarethewalkingxdead #✘ || First one's free ( asks )#✘ || We are the saviors ( canon verse 1 )#in classic jen fashion i could not keep this short #reordered the questions so his answers would flow a little better!

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ziracona · 4 months

Note

Thank you so much! I've been playing on the JPN server for years so I never picked up the NA version because I didn't have the time to devote to both of them, thank you so much for sharing the screenshots too! Billy's my boy since 2016 so I'm always happy when they give him some love, it seems like he was treated quite well in LB1. That pinky promise line is so sweet as well. I hope he eventually got his memories back too, this was the Chaldea version iirc but something got messed up right?

That’s what it read like. He had faint memories, so more like a normal throne and back experience, and I guess the saint graph memories Da Vinci copied weren’t working at the time? Or maybe if Alaya summons a Chaldea servant they just generally get the standard Faint Memories/Dejavu experience. He wasn’t one of the ‘I have no idea who you are’ so I’d say yes, Chaldea version, but without memories after being unsummoned from the context.

And mood! Billy was a fave of mine ever since the E Pluribus arc, and he got so much justice in LB1. I want to see him again 😭 — Musashi kept hitting on people from me to Mash to him, and he was like

when she tried with him. He only ever was cute with Ritsuka, and he’s so sweet and decent. My boy’s “Cause he looks like he needs killin’ >:[ ‘ loves rent free in my head. So does him being like “the hell it’s a hard question?!? We deserve a shot at life too!” at the end of that lostbelt. Man offered to kill 4 people for hurting Ritsuka and did kill 2 of them point blank single handed. Pistol whipped a Crypter out cold. Just king shit 24/7.

His OG E Pluribus intro with Robin Hood was so good too 😭 god love them both. Anyway you’re welcome! He’s got so many great moments and I was so happy with LB1. Always great to meet another Billy fan! ^u^

#marvelknight16 #ask #fate go #fate Billy the kid

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 1 year

Text

The Real Threat.

You got attacked!?

Yeah...Looks like the Monokubs are coming after me after all...Sora guided me to the shower, and one of them tried to catch me by surprise.

That’s where you are now? The shower room?

Tsumugi must really hate your guts to be desperate enough to make the MONOKUBS try to kill you.

Thanks for the reminder Kaito...

I just figured I’d keep you guys posted. I can’t talk long obviously because Sora can only hold the barrier open for a short while.

Don’t worry though. I’m alright. Barely scratched. How are things on your end?

No luck. But we’re preparing some new methods of breaking in as we speak. Whether they’ll work or not remains to be seen.

...

Shuichi?

Sorry...I just panicked a little.

I’m glad you’re ok Kaede. And I know you can defend yourself...Heck, you can do it way better than I can. But...

The idea of you being stuck in there with a bunch of killer robots out to get you is making me worried.

...That’s wrong Shuichi.

Huh?

...

*Kaede reaches down and grabs Monokid’s corpse by the ear. She lifts up and shows his mangled body to the people on the other side.

!!!??

Well damn...!

What the hell...!?

K-Kaede, did you-!?

I’m not stuck in here with the Monokubs, guys...

THEY’RE stuck in here with ME...!

*The call ends as Sora runs out of energy.

What the hell do you mean Monokid is dead!?

Exactly as it sounds Boss Lady...

The guy tried to catch Akamatsu with her pants down...literally...but ended up getting pummeled into a sink.

*sigh* Figures...I should have known that you were all so dumb enough to underestimate her...

Not that I can fault you.

“Underestimate her?”

I made the same mistake a few months back. I figured even with my limited combat expertise I could take her in a fight.

But that girl has been putting a lot of time into her training. She’s probably even more skilled now than she was when we last fought. And she wiped the floor with me back then.

Not to mention she still has that fancy weapon of hers.

IT’S-PROPERTIES-ARE-VERY-SIMILAR-TO-THE-KINETIC-SPEARS-SUPPLIED-TO-ORGANIZATION-ZETSUBOU-BY-FANG-INCORPERATED. HOWEVER-IT-APPEARS-TO-BE-MODIFIED-WITH-MORE-ABILITIES.

I see...

Say...Ms Shirogane...by any chance, are there any copies of us left?

Huh?

Will Monokid be resurrected by Motherkuma or however you make clones of Daddy? Or is he dead forever?

...

I’ll take that silence as the latter.

I figured...

Please, take mercy on my brother! He didn’t deserve to die so young!

Listen!

*The Monokubs stand attentively.

Monokid’s death is a minor setback, but I managed to get your little toys up and running by now.

Really!?

You’re right...Motherkuma isn’t programmed to make copies of you 5...But...

Complete your mission, and kill Kaede Akamatsu...and I’ll consider making changes.

I made you all a promise, didn’t I?

*Tsumugi cuts off.

Well...what do we do now? I’m busy preparing Monokid’s funeral, so I can’t help here.

Oh FUCK the funeral! We’ll all need a fucking funeral if we don’t take care of this problem soon enough!

What do you mean...!?

Don’t you get it!? We underestimated Akamatsu and now she knows she’s capable o’ killin’ us!

It’s how humans work! Once they know how to kill, they go ahead and start huntin’ for wild animals like us! If we fight her, she’ll kill us like she did Monokid, but if we turn tail ‘n run, SHIROGANE’ll kill us for betrayin’ her orders!

We wanna rage hell on the world yeah!? Well that’s lookin’ pretty fuckin’ impossible right about now!

...MONOSUKE. PLEASE-DON’T-PANIC.

I-DO-NOT-THINK-KAEDE-AKAMATSU-IS-AS-VIOLENT-AS-YOU-MAY-BELIEVE. PERHAPS-WE-CAN-FIGURE-OUT-A-WAY-TO-CONVINCE-HER-TO-SPARE-US?

*Monosuke sharply turns towards Monodam.

What the hell you sayin’!? You takin’ the enemies side!?

I-AM-ON-THE-SIDE-WHERE-WE-ALL-GET-OUT-SAFELY. I-JUST-WANT-ALL-OF-US-TO-GET-ALONG.

Pretty rich coming from the Kub who KILLED all his family back in the old universe!?

Yeah! Don’t be such a fuckin’ hypocrite! You’re on thin fucking ice as it is, Monodam!

We wouldn’t be in this fucking situation if you had just done your job! But NOOOO you HAD to let Akamatsu and Saihara take the last bomb from you!

I-WAS-NOT-PREPARED-FOR-HER-NEW-ABILITIES.

Nah, you were too soft! You’ve always been too soft fer this kinda work! And if I’m gunna be honest, I don’t trust you!

Monosuke, don’t! Don’t you understand!?

Monodam is grieving the death of his brother! And he knows how strong Akamatsu is! He just doesn’t want to lose any more of his family!

Are you listenin’ t’ me! If that bomb had successfully gone off, we’d be outta this damn lab and into the open world by now!

If anyone’s t’ blame for Monokid’s death, IT’S YOU!

...!

Now THAT’S a bridge too far!

NO. MONOSUKE-IS-CORRECT.

Monodam!?

I-GOT-US-ALL-INTO-THIS-SITUATION-BECAUSE-I-FIGURED-THERE-WAS-AN-ALTERNATIVE-WAY-TO-THIS-THAT-DIDN’T-INVOLVE-KILLING.

I-SUPPOSE-I-DO-NOT-MAKE-A-VERY-GOOD-APEX-PREDATOR, HUH?

Monodam, what’s wrong?

MONOSUKE. IF-I-BRING-YOU-KAEDE-AKAMATSU’S-BODY...WILL-YOU-FORGIVE-ME-FOR-MY-PAST-MISTAKES?

...?

...

...Hell, if it gets us outta this shithole, I’ll try...

GOOD.

*At the same time, the Monokubs hear the sound of a lab door opening to the side. Monodam turns towards it and approaches.

DO-NOT-WORRY. I-WILL-MAKE-SURE-WE-ALL-GET-ALONG...

NO-MATTER-WHAT-IT-COSTS...

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #kaede akamatsu #monodam #monosuke #monotaro #monophanie #shuichi saihara #tsumugi shirogane #kaito momota #maki harukawa #rantaro amami #tenko chabashira #rise and shine arc

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facelessfrey · 2 years

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Roswell New Mexico - Season 4, Episode 10

I just...really miss Alex. I know they couldn’t hold things up for just one person or whatever but I wish they’d waited on filming some of this stuff until he was available. Sigh.

Like okay at the very least, half the episode was about making some kind of progress to getting to where Alex is. I appreciate that. And Michael FINALLY GOT TO BE PROACTIVE AND GO THROUGH THE PORTAL TO GET HIM BACK. THANK GOD!!!

I also appreciate Kyle Valenti, current Captain of the Malex ship, showing up to help Michael. I feel like we haven’t really acknowledged Alex and Kyle’s friendship since like early season three before Alex joined Deep Sky and I’ve missed it. So at least we had Kyle and Michael working together to find Alex. That’s nice and needed.

I still can’t say I really care much about Maria’s part in all of this unless it is going to actually lead to her finding out that Theo is somehow her dad and Dallas her brother or something because otherwise she’s kind of once again a spare part/plot device in the Malex story and she as a character has always deserved better than that. So I hope there’s more for her in this than just that. Like...Bonnie can be a plot device but Maria really shouldn’t be.

I’m glad Michael is with Dallas now though because I have really liked the bits of their growing relationship that we’ve gotten to see this season so hopefully the last three episodes can deliver on that as well as a Malex reunion...for the love of god give me the Malex reunion. But also I hope Dallas really gets some closure about his father out of all of this too.

I liked the couple of Kybel crumbs we got in there and their awkward hug. But I need the show to really get back to that.

Still glad to have Rosa around in whatever capacity we have her in and that she’s the one who gets to give out all the sage advice this season. That’s fun for her.

But oh my god do I not care about Liz and her conflict anymore. I’m so tired of it. I’m so tired of her and Max and this nonsense. This all or nothing Liz is killing me. I wasn’t a big fan of “Just a girl from Roswell” Liz and I’m not a fan of “Alien Mist Addict Evil Science” Liz either. Just find some balance girl. Maybe Isobel should be helping her at Woman is Warrior because I’m just super over it. I miss season one Liz.

Now...plot stuff...I mean...who even knows at this point.

Now we’ve got portals. This really has turned into the final season of the 100. I swear if they all ascend into glowy balls of light at the end of the season, I will riot. But also...we still don’t know what the Alighting is. Is it this portal? I’m so confused. Also, if they want to get to Oasis, wouldn’t there have to be a partial console and a rock circle there too? Is there? I just don’t understand what Jones/Clyde etc are trying to actually do. And Tesca is being absolutely useless and giving us no answers. I mean what? Does she now not know what the Alighting is? I just want someone to tell me what the fuck the Alighting is. This is worse than fucking Deep Sky.

I mean I’m glad we’ve finally brought the console full circle. We’ve seen what it was meant for. That’s cool. But I need the rest of the answers. What was the blue flame for. What did Tesca/Jones need Max and Liz for? For that matter, was Alex really part of some contingency plan or was it just a convenient way to get rid of him for the whole season? Will they even attempt to make it make sense? Have they drafted Alex in the fucking Pocket Dimension/costco Upside Down to do some alien computer hacking/engineering to try and trigger the Alighting somehow??!?!! I don’t know anymore.

I JUST NEED SOME ANSWERS AT THIS POINT!

And the entire promo for next week was about fucking Liz and her mist addiction. More Rosa...yay...but uhh...I would like to know what’s going on with Michael and Dallas trying to find Alex through the looking glass okay. GIVE ME THAT!

I really just need Alex to be in more than just like...the last episode. They’re literally killing me. Could they not have thrown us a goddamn bone and filmed some extra scenes with Alex in the costco Upside Down to slot into the season so we would have some fucking idea of how he was doing? Ugh.

Also...I really need them to stop with the fucking Harry Potter references. Enough already!

Oh, and Tesca being all “the ones you call Louise, Nora and Theo”....You all call them Louise, Nora and Theo! You were in the stupid pods all that time, how did you even know? Did they all just like sit around Oasis before getting on that ship and decide what their Earth!Names were going to be before they went or something? I just...I can’t.

Sigh...I need someone to like...give me a count of how many minutes Alex will be in the final episodes of this season just so I can appropriately set my expectations. Because at this point, I don’t even expect to see Michael and Dallas etc next week, let alone Alex.

OH oh oh! Right. ANOTHER THING!! Wasn’t Kyle going on some road trip with Eduardo to find Ally Meyers?!?!? So are we really only going to see OG Liz in Liz’s mindscape coma mist dream?! Like...did Kyle meet her? Did she give him that box? What?! Tell me! Is she going to show up randomly at the end of the season to stop her insane wife and contribute something to this story? Also...the way I do not care about Shivani and her daughter at this point. None of this is relevant to the alien story at this stage and I don’t know why it’s still a story being told.

Sigh....I just want Alex back and for someone to tell me what the Alighting is and for no one to ascend into balls of light leaving behind glowy groot statues. Can I just have that please?!

#roswell new mexico #roswell nm #roswell nm reviews #rnm s4e10

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