#hes so fucking tender with her I'll die
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Jon Snow calling Sansa Stark "Sweet girl/sweetling" is my Roman Empire.
#yes i want that kind of love#hes so fucking tender with her I'll die#jonsa#jon snow#sansa stark#jon x sansa#asioaf#game of thrones#the only good things the last two seasons did was their relationship in season 7
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I get so high every time you're loving me.
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x curvy!female!reader
CW: oral sex (female receiving), gentle neteyam, praising kink, needy reader, established relationship, fluff, domestic life, neteyam yearning for reader, possessive neteyam, use of "babygirl", dirty talk
Reason 19576898 of why being Neteyam's mate would fix all my problems: the fact that he would do this. 🥵🥺❤
na'vi words: yawntutsyìp (little loved one), muntxate (female mate), paskalin (sweet berry)
not proofread, I'm sorry. I'm shleepy as hell and I'll probably do it tomorrow.
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"My babygirl, always waiting for me when I come home, waiting for me to fill her up with my cock and spill my seed inside her pretty little pussy." Neteyam cooed to you
You gazed at him with bewitched eyes. He owned all of you.
"Every time I see you I get weak. Every time I see your cute, round face I feel such tenderness inside me… You make me soft for you, yawntutsyìp. I love you so much. My perfect little mate." He said between a kiss and another "So good for me."
“Teyam…” a cute whisper left your rosy lips
“Hmm?” He tenderly asked
“I miss your tongue on my pussy… it's been a while since you last ate me out… you've been too busy. I hate it.” You almost pouted and his heart got filled with affection and yearning for you
“Awww, yawntutsyìp… Do you need your mate to suck and lick your little pussy?”
“Yes… please…” You begged him with doe needy eyes
“Then I'll do as you say. My muntxate deserves nothing but the best.” Neteyam smiled through the words
His strong hands pushed your shoulders towards the mat gently, helping you lay down comfortably.
Neteyam cared about you feeling comfortable more than he cared about himself feeling the same. You were everything to your mate.
He opened your legs, brushed his fingers on your inner thighs and then left little delicate kisses on them. Your heart beat fast and your breath was shallow with anticipation.
“Love these soft thick thighs. They're mine.” Neteyam gripped your flesh, possessive over his muntxate.
Neteyam pushed your loincloth to the side, not wanting to wait another second to taste you as he had been missing your sweet juices as much as you had been missing his tongue and lips on your cunt.
Neteyam's breath hovered over your exposed sex and your scent was driving him insane. He felt his animalistic urges taking over.
You whimpered when you felt his wet, warm tongue on your core. Neteyam answered with a muffled moan, as his mouth was full of you.
After a few hungry licks and suckling motions, Neteyam was already drunk on you.
“Eywa, I missed your taste so much. This pussy feels like paskalin on my tongue. No, it tastes even better. Nothing tastes as good as my mate's pussy does. Nothing.” Neteyam lapped your cunt lips with his soft tongue over and over again and you felt your pussy clench as it became hotter and hotter as the pleasure he was giving you became stronger.
Fuck, you had been needing that so much… you felt like you were gonna die if you had to spend another long period without feeling the Olo'eyktan's tongue on your pussy again.
“Mine.” Neteyam groaned as he kept sucking on you and drinking your juices just like he was utterly thirsty and you were the only source of liquid that could hydrate him.
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Taglist:
@yeosxxx
#neteyam smut#neteyam sully smut#neteyam sully x reader#neteyam sully x y/n#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam sully#neteyam x reader#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x you#neteyam x f!reader#neteyam x female reader#neteyam x curvy reader#na'vi smut#na'vi x reader smut#na'vi x curvy reader#na'vi x y/n#na'vi x reader#atwow smut#neteyam sully angst#neteyam suli x reader#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#neteyam fic#neteyam fanfiction#neteyam suli#atwow x reader#atwow fanfiction#✎ victória writes ▢✧࿐
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The Fall from the Heavens (8)
[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, violence, swearing, humiliation, chauvinism, suicide attempt, descriptions of wounding, coercion ]
[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard
Lady Strong Moodboard
Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard
Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
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That night she awoke in her uncle's embrace; the bed they were lying on was cramped, forcing them to lie with their legs and arms intertwined. When she fell asleep for the first time her uncle stood up and covered them with some blankets, immediately pulling her close again.
She felt with her rapidly beating heart that he was bare.
She let his fingers completely slide her nightgown off her, his such shameless closeness, the heat of his skin was shocking to her and took her breath away, lying snuggled into his chest she placed tender kisses on it.
"− sleep −" She heard him whisper softly in a low murmur, his hand combed through her hair; she felt his half-hard manhood throb hard against his words and hit her stomach.
Despite what he had done, the fact that she was sure she would not be able to sit up the next day, she let him take her a second time that night.
Their lips, innocently at first, sank into each other, the tips of their tongues began to lick again, and after a moment his hand lifted her thigh, throwing it around his waist, she felt the thick head of his cock pushing into her again from below.
This time it was she who slid her fingers down to her slit, opening it for him to help him, they moaned into each other's mouths, drunk and sleepy as the thrust of his hips slid his manhood deep inside her.
"− fuck, little one − I'm not sure I'll be able to stop −" He muttered, immediately beginning to root into her, with sure, deep pushes sinking into her again and again, her oversensitive, sore muscles clenching even tighter against him, whimpers on the edge of pleasure and pain escaping her lips.
She wasn't sure what he meant, but she knew that they were doing something from which there was no turning back.
"− I know − just a little longer − your uncle is close −" He breathed out, speeding up, no longer paying attention to the helpless sounds that rushed out of his throat with each of his thrusts, his one hand clenched on her buttocks, the other on her hair, their eyes closed, her nose pressed against his cheek, her breasts cuddled into his chest.
"− so good −" He hummed, rooting into her harder as she mewled at his words, her walls squeezing against him in involuntary reflex, sucking him inside.
"− Aemond −" She moaned, horrified at how her body reacted to him, how hot she felt, soaking him with each of his movements, feeling their mingled moisture run down her thigh onto the bed beneath them, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud click.
"− fuck − fuck − fuck − fuck − mghmm −" He breathed out; she heard his low, surprised groan of relief and pleasure, before once again that night his seed spilled deep inside her.
There was something obscene and terrifying about how close they were, that they were one in the proper sense of the word, one body, one quivering flesh.
She could feel his thick, swollen cock pulsing inside her for a moment longer as his mouth placed wet, messy kisses on her cheek, neck and bare shoulder, his hands trailing down her hot sweaty back.
"− mine − gods, I've been waiting for this for so long −" He sighed out in a shaky voice from which a shudder ran through her, as if he was moved, as if his throat tightened with the tears of relief, regret and fulfilment he felt at the same time as she did.
Her hand, clenched earlier on his arm, rose higher, to his cheek, directing him to her face, to her mouth, which after a moment joined his in a loud, sticky kiss of their lips and tongues.
She heard him grunt in pleasure, his half-soft length pulsed inside her betraying that, true to his word, with short breaks he could do this all night.
"− no more, uncle − too much −" She mumbled, feeling like she wouldn't be able to walk because of him, her poor muscles were barely able to fit him in when he was fully ready to take her again.
"− mmm −" He hummed and kissed her forehead before his arms snuggled her face into the hollow of his neck; she sighed in relief as he slowly and gently pulled his manhood out of her, sliding his knee between her thighs, their bodies entwined in a hot embrace full of their scent, the smell of their moisture, of what they had done.
"− you did so well for me − I'll have your evening meal brought to your bed tomorrow − you need to rest −" He whispered, as if she had performed some heroic feat by allowing him to sink into her twice in the same night.
She thought with a smile of amusement as she snuggled into his sweaty skin, sticky from the exertion, that he himself could not imagine his body could survive something like this and not be sore.
He clearly understood her need for recuperation and that as her husband he could not dissuade her from this, as it turned out, overpoweringly pleasurable act.
Although she tried to sleep, she kept returning her thoughts to what they had done, to the way he had undressed her, to his hot gaze filled with desire on the verge of madness when he had said to her, kneeling over her, untying his breeches with his fingers, that he needed to feel her, that he would not be violent.
She believed him, and he was not only not violent.
He was tender.
His soothing words, his slow thrusts full of uncertainty and longing, his eyebrows arched in pain as if he was suffering as much as she was, made her feel not that he was taking something away from her, but that they were experiencing something together, joining in each other's pain, never to be separated again.
She knew the alcohol had helped her to relax, her head humming wonderfully as each of his thrusts again and again teased some spot inside her from which shivers of pleasure ran through her.
"− you are so warm −" He whispered with despair, desire, love, as if he had finally returned to his haven like a ship that had spent years on the open sea during storms and tempests; she could only moan at his words, stunned by the pleasure and how much he filled her, struggling to fit him inside her.
It was so rough, so simple, so natural.
At the same time she was afraid of the consequences of their actions, on the other hand she was happy and satisfied, because she no longer had to be afraid of their wedding night, of whether she would live up to his expectations, whether she would not disappoint him.
She knew that in this rather brutal and unobvious way they had regained something, the kind of closeness they had been deprived of, and although she knew that big words would not leave their mouths and that some things they would never forgive each other for, she felt relieved.
He tried to find common ground with her, to speak with her, to show her that he could control his aggression, his grief, that he would do it for her if she would only reciprocate, if she would also make the effort and do something for him too.
When she was awakened by the first rays of sunshine she turned lazily to the other side with a quiet creak of the bed, meeting his chest into which she snuggled in a subconscious need for closeness, his arms immediately enclosing her again in his embrace, a quiet sigh escaping from his nostrils.
It was so peaceful.
They both flinched and pulled themselves up when they heard the loud voices of the guards.
"Out! Get dressed, everyone to the dungeons! Immediately!" Shouted one of them; she hugged his arm, terrified as someone's fist slammed hard on the door of their chamber.
"Leave it, there is no one here. Lead them to the cells, we need to find Prince Aemond and his little whore." Said the other man. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, saw that he was breathing fast, in his eye confusion and something else.
Fear.
"Uncle, what's happening?" She asked in a trembling voice, feeling betrayal hovering in the air, thinking only that he had taken her because he knew something was coming, that he had lied to her, that he surely intended to expose her to mockery and humiliation, that they were plotting against her mother.
"I don't know." He said coldly, swallowing loudly, his voice breaking as if he himself was shocked. He got up quickly from the bed and began to dress hurriedly, not looking at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Uncle, please, tell me you didn't plan this." She mumbled with tears of pain, helplessness and grief in her eyes, covering her mouth, feeling her naked body begin to tremble.
Only then did he look at her, frowning his eyebrows as if he didn't understand what she had just said to him.
"Stop it. Don't panic. You have to stay here until I find out what happened. Don't open up to anyone and don't go anywhere, do you understand?" He asked matter-of-factly, fastening the buckles of his tunic. She did not answer him, laying down on the bed without strength, letting the tears run down her cheeks, looking blankly towards the door.
He approached her slowly, kneeling in front of her; she shuddered when his large, slightly rough hand ran reassuringly over her bare back.
"− don't leave until I come back for you − lock the door behind me −" He said coolly, returning back to the stronghold of his mind, distancing himself, changing back into that terrifying man she didn't recognise.
She shuddered as he hummed under his breath and rose from his place, moving unhurriedly towards the door, pulling back the bolt only to disappear behind it a moment later.
She stood up on trembling legs, hurriedly putting on her nightgown, immediately locking the door, listening to the restless noises and sounds from outside.
What was happening?
Maybe she should run away, warn her mother?
But what if someone caught her, if there really was a rebellion?
There was nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide.
She had no idea what to do, didn't know if she could trust this man she had given herself to that night, who had taken her for himself only to leave.
She covered herself with thick blankets and sat in silence, thinking about everything that had happened between them, finding with mockery and regret that she had lost her guard, that she had allowed herself to feel safe in the lion's den and was now paying the price.
She thought with tears in her eyes that Daemon had warned her.
Her terror increased with each passing hour when he did not return for her and she already knew something serious had happened. She prayed with closed eyes to the gods of her ancestors, asking them for strength and courage at the moment of trail.
She had no intention of begging them for mercy.
Even though she had sensed it, even though she had repeated to herself that she had to prepare for it, the voice of Criston Cole banging his fist on the chamber door, ordering her to open it immediately made her feel a chill of disappointment and bitterness fall over her, a confirmation of her worst fears.
He had used her.
He had betrayed her.
She knew there was no point in resisting, because she had nowhere to run to anyway, so she opened up to him. Seeing her negligee and the fact that she was wearing only a nightgown, he ordered several servants to be brought in, who, as terrified as she was, helped her dress. Cole stood near her with his head turned away, pretending to give her any kind of privacy.
When he told her to leave she simply did so, walking at his side through the completely empty Red Keep; she felt her heart pounding like mad and wondered what could have happened.
Did they keep her to come to terms with her mother?
She pressed her lips together at the thought, feeling tears of shame under her eyelids, and lifted her chin higher, refusing to let them flow, recognising that whatever happened, she would remain true to her family, that she would never allow herself to be humiliated in such a way again.
She was startled when Ser Criston led her to her old chamber, where the Queen was already waiting for her; she stood up at the sight of her, fiddling with the rings on her fingers.
She saw to her horror that she had open wounds around her nails that were bleeding.
The door behind them closed with a loud clatter of wood and they stood facing each other in silence for a moment, Cole standing just behind her, apparently making sure she didn't try to do anything that might endanger the Queen.
She should have bowed to her, but she didn't, looking straight into her eyes with fatigue and sadness, seeing in her gaze that what she suspected was happening was happening, that perhaps after her husband-king supported the idea of her and her son marrying again, Alicent and her father had proceeded to act.
She wondered if they had killed him.
"The King is dead, my love." The Queen said softly, and she involuntarily smiled, as if it amused her. She saw the discomfort on her face from which she felt satisfaction, a mental advantage she could use.
She answered nothing.
"Before he passed away, he confessed to me that he wished my eldest son to be crowned as his successor." She said in a voice straining for calm, and she burst into uncontrollable laughter full of mockery and disbelief, involuntarily covering her mouth with her hand, shaking her head, despair in her eyes, her eyebrows arched in pain.
He was busying himself with her body as they crowned this drunkard and rapist King.
"You had it all planned, didn't you? Is that why you kept me here?" She asked coldly, Alicent shook her head quickly, pale; there were bruises under her eyes, her fingers involuntarily began to scratch the wounds around her nails.
"No. I know you both ran away yesterday. What you did. You need to tell me if my son did this against your will. Do you need help." She muttered, lowering her gaze, as if she was overwhelmed with shame at the thought of what she had apparently imagined in her head.
She snorted under her breath, looking at her in disbelief, wondering if this was part of their game, or if they wanted to fool her into not knowing what was true and what wasn't anymore.
"Your son has done nothing against my will. I want to return to Dragonstone." She said dispassionately, wondering if she felt now as he did when he lost his eye, when she didn't come to him that night, when in his mind she chose her family over his.
An overpowering, deep, empty black abyss.
"It's impossible." She said in a trembling voice, and she looked at her with rage, feeling fire rather than blood pulsing through her veins, her lips clenched into a thin line.
"I am your prisoner now?" She grinned feeling her whole body begin to quiver in rage.
Eternally pretending to be saints and wronged, fucking traitors.
"It would be better if we make sure there are no unpleasant…consequences." She said tiredly, as if she hadn't noticed her anger or heard her question; at her words her heart stopped, her anger turned to sudden, overpowering fear, cold sweat on the back of her neck.
No.
No. No. No. No. No. No.
"No. You will not force me." She said in a trembling voice, stepping backwards, falling right into Criston Cole's hands, which clamped painfully tight on her arms, like pincers from which she could not break free.
"Please, do not resist. It will be better for all of us." Said the Queen and nodded, the door to her chamber opened; she looked in horror at the servant with the small kettle and vessel, behind her several guards stepped inside.
She shook her head, breathing loudly through her mouth, looking at her pleadingly, feeling tears squeezing under her eyelids.
She didn't want this, this was her body, if the gods so chose, her child could grow in her womb.
"− no, please, please, please −" She mumbled, forgetting what she had promised herself, her dignity, her coolness, for here, though she was filled with the seed of a man who had betrayed her, who had humiliated her, the fruit of that could be a child she could perhaps love, who would possibly be the cause of any reason for joy in her life.
With the eyes of her imagination she saw a small, laughing child with his white hair and her bright eyes looking at the great vessel from which steam was rising, warming the dragon's egg.
She felt the guard's hand clamp down on her cheeks, tilting her head back, forcing her to open her mouth, tears ran down her cheeks, a squeal broke from her throat as the other man began to pour the disgusting liquid into her mouth, she tried to spit it out but to no avail, she felt it run down her throat.
It was done.
When they finally let her go she simply fell to the ground, her breathing loud, shuddering and hitched, her face red with tears of fear and sorrow.
Some part of her wondered why he wasn't here, why he hadn't stopped it, whether he had wanted to condemn her to such suffering from the very beginning.
She heard the rustling of Alicent's gown as she approached her slowly, felt her hand on her back and moved away immediately, looking at her with hatred.
"Get out." She said to her coldly without any courtesy; she could see the tears in her eyes but decided that they were mere theatre, that she had no right to sympathise after what she and her son had done to her.
She felt Criston Cole grab her tightly by her hair, tilting her head back in a sudden, violent gesture.
"How dare you speak to your Queen this way, you…" He didn't finish as she spat in his face; he closed his eyes quickly and hissed, wiping away her saliva with his hand. She heard Alicent scream as he slapped her across the face with all his strength − she fell to the floor, panting heavily, feeling like everything was spinning around her.
"As mother, so daughter. Fucking whore."
"Criston, for gods sake! Get out, now, all of you!" The Queen shouted, pulling him away from her; she could hear his enraged breathing, and after a moment, he and the others assembled stepped back, leaving one by one.
Although she could feel her gaze on her, she no longer bestowed a single glance on the mother of the man who only a few hours ago had been her beloved, her protector, the one she had chosen.
"It will be better this way. I wish to come to an agreement with your mother so that she can marry you off to her cousin according to her will. Rest now." She whispered in a trembling, quiet voice and left, closing the door behind her, she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock.
I wish to come to an agreement with your mother so that she can marry you off to her cousin according to her will.
She grinned involuntarily at the thought that her uncle had never had any intention of defying his mother, that this was all just a spectacle, his revenge. That he would marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, that he would watch with pride and satisfaction as she walked away, stripped of virtue and dignity, robbed of everything she could value in herself as a woman.
She lay on the cold stone floor for a moment, staring blankly ahead, feeling that the cheek Criston Cole had slapped her on was pulsing all over. After a moment her hand slowly slid down to her womb; she clamped her fingers on the material of her gown and wept quietly, clenching her eyes shut, allowing herself to experience some kind of grief.
She lasted like this for some time, wondering what she should do and she decided that there was no other choice.
As long as she was here her mother had no option to act, she could not reclaim the crown that was her inheritance.
She thought she was to blame and had to rise to the occasion now.
She had to make a manly decision, as Daemon had always told her, and turn the situation around, take back their advantage.
When she was still a child, her mother had given her a small dagger, which she had told her to keep in a place only she knew of, so that when she needed to defend herself against someone she could reach for it.
She stood up slowly, heading calmly towards her bed, putting her hand deep between the wooden frame and the bedding − she smiled involuntarily as she felt the cold steel beneath her fingers.
She pulled it out, laying back comfortably on the bedclothes, turning it in her hands, thinking that this was her escape, proof of her independence, of the fact that she had the last word.
She hesitated for a moment as she pressed the blade to her wrist, feeling terror, fear of death and of pain, regret that she could still see so much, experience so much.
She sighed quietly and felt tears running down the sides of her face onto the pillow under her head as she began to slice her skin with her trembling hand, she shuddered when she saw that immediately blood began to run from the red line.
She pressed her lips together trying to hold back a hiss of discomfort as she repeated the cut on her other wrist, and then just lay back, feeling the rapid pounding of her terrified heart, thinking with sorrow that she had never felt so alone and miserable than she did now, at the moment of her death.
She wondered if this was how he had felt that night when he lost his eye and cried, mourning for herself and the little boy who had died then.
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Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#hotd aemond#ewan mitchell fanfic#dark aemond#dark aemond targaryen#dark aemond angst#dark aemond smut#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#hotd smut#ewan mitchell smut#aemond targaryen angst#aemond angst#hotd angst#ewan mitchell angst#aemond fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd fic#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond#aemond one eye#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#aemond targaryen x oc
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Sleepy!reader falling asleep all the time on Daryl’s shoulder,Chest,Arm anywhere in car ride or meeting with group and everyone teasing him and her about it
Sleepyhead | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Summary: Life in a world ravaged by the undead was hard. Constantly wondering where you'd find your supplies, whether your loved ones were safe and whether you'd die that day was exhausting. That exhaustion caught up with you, but thankfully, Daryl was more than willing to be your temporary pillow, even at the expense of getting teased about it.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sleep deprivation.
Word count: 768.
A/n: This is really short, but I really didn't have it in me today to write anything long, so I wrote this little fic instead. I feel like this isn't exactly like what was requested, but I hope you like this nonetheless!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Aw, the two of you are so adorable.”
“Glenn, get your camera. We need to get a picture of this.”
“Who knew you could be so soft, Daryl?”
The sound of laughter pulled you out of the black abyss of sleep you were nearly lost in. As everyone continued talking to the archer who's chest you found yourself rested against, you could clearly hear the teasing tones in everyone's voices, and it nearly made you smile—however, that would blow your cover and show everyone that you had woken up again. You wanted to see how Daryl handled the situation.
Barely even fifteen minutes prior, you had been sat against the wall of the lower level of the cellblock as everyone participated in a game of truth or dare. However, not too long into the game, you had yawned and rested your head back against the wall. You were extremely tired, the nights of sleeplessness finally knocking on your door in the form of exhaustion. As you had closed your eyes, you could distinctly feel the arms of someone wrapping around your shoulders, and your cheek had found itself rested upon a firm yet soft surface—that surface you now knew to be Daryl's chest—and a blanket had been draped around you.
“If y'all dun' shut the fuck up righ' now, I'll throw this goddamn pot at yer heads,” Daryl grumbled, subconsciously tightening his arms around you and readjusting the blanket that he had draped around the both of you to fight off the chill the night exhibited. “She ain't been gettin' any sleep lately. S'the first time she's slept in days. If y'all wanna make fun'a me, do it tomorrow when ya dun' run the risk'a wakin' her up.”
“Aw, Daryl,” Michonne awed teasingly, sharing a small laugh with Carl, who watched the exchange in amusement. “You're so sweet. Who would've thought that you'd actually be a big teddy bear instead of this brooding, scary guy you pretend to be?”
“She did,” Rick laughed, motioning over to you. “Look at her. She managed to make Daryl hold her in front of all of us. I thought that would be impossible.”
“Piss off, Grimes,” Daryl replied, ducking his head to hide the blush that spread over his face. Somehow, without even having to shrug you off first, Daryl got up and held you bridal style, regarding the amused faces of his friends once more before turning around. “M'takin her to bed. Nigh', assholes.”
Laughter followed him as he climbed the stairs to your shared cell. You nuzzled your face into his chest and tried to hide your smile, vehemently amused by the situation Daryl had just escaped. You knew that the two of you wouldn't hear the end of what had happened downstairs, but you had no problem with a little teasing over something as tender as Daryl holding you.
Soon, Daryl layed you down on the bed and climbed in behind you, adjusting the covers around the both of you. The archer grumbled something to himself before pressing himself against your back, wrapping his arms around you.
Finding it the perfect moment to add some teasing of your own, you rested your hand over his that rested around you. “They're right, you know. You are really sweet.”
A few beats of silence passed until Daryl spoke up. “Ya were awake the whole time?”
“No, not the whole time,” you corrected. “I woke up because everyone was laughing too loud. I'm glad I did, though. I'd hate to miss any opportunity to see you get so flustered.”
“Yer the worst,” Daryl mumbled, nuzzling his face into your shoulder blade.
“Yeah, I am,” you giggled. “You love me, though.”
A long moment of silence passed. You thought that Daryl had fallen asleep already, but soon he tightened his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
“Yeah, I do love ya, sleepyhead.”
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl drabbles#daryl fanfiction#twd daryl x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you
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This singular frame was all it took to undo my very extreme hatred of Adam, Vivienne Medrano how dare you make me feel sympathy for this man-
Like, Adam before this scene? A blatant misogynist and a hypocrite who unabashedly revels in sinners' suffering. A guy who has no regard for anyone else, and who pisses pretty much every viewer off with patronizing jabs like "sorry sweetie" and "try to chillax, babe." Ugh, disgusting.
As the first man, it seems like he got an easy pass into Heaven. Maybe the angels were just saving face, given that their core pair of humans both took the fruit of knowledge of good and evil willingly, ordaining Adam on the technicality that "Eve did it first." But I think we can all agree that it was not on the merit of Adam's virtue.
And then Charlie draws blood during their fight in Episode 8, and, for the first time, Adam genuinely realizes he can be hurt. Like, for the first time in the duration of the show, in his entire fucking existence, someone shows him that he is not, in fact, an all-powerful symbol of power and superiority. He's just a guy with privilege who is just as vulnerable, just as flawed, just as human as the rest of them.
But once the mask is shattered, revealing the rather unexceptional man underneath, does Adam back down? Of course not—he doubles down. There's nothing worse than a narcissist who is virtually incapable of seeing the error of their ways, even when they're clearly backed into a corner. Bruised and bloody, he bellows that he's THE man; everybody should worship him.
For me, that pretty much hit the nail in the coffin. There was no redeeming a character like Adam (ironic, since he's one of the few characters in the show not in need of redemption).
So isn't it fitting, then, that his death didn't happen in some grand display requiring all of Lucifer or Charlie's might? Isn't it fitting that Adam falls to Niffty—not Lucifer, not an overlord, but a common sinner, who sees him as nothing more than a foot soldier that needs to be eliminated, a pest as easily squashed as a roach? For someone as self-aggrandizing as Adam, this has to be one of the most humiliating ways to die. The perfect end for an insufferable antagonist.
But nooo, Vivziepop didn't end it there.
Because INSTEAD, we hear Lute's heart-wrenching screams as she realizes that Adam has just been defeated; we see the look on her tear-streaked face when it registers just how badly he's been injured. The fear in her eyes at the prospect of living in a world without the angel she idolizes, the man she serves.
She's not concerned that she's just lost her arm, or that Vaggie is standing right there. In that moment, the only person in Hell is Adam, and all she wants is for him to stay with her.
Adam could have easily dismissed her feelings entirely. He could have spent his last breath hurling one last insult at Lucifer, getting the satisfaction of having the last word before his death. He could have thrown himself a pity party and cursed his fate.
Instead, this greedy, selfish, murderous fiend has the audacity to see Lute in his field of vision and flash her one last, tender smile.
We don't know for sure what Adam was thinking in this shot, but personally, I think it was something along the lines of I lost. Proud of you, Lute. I'll miss you. Goodbye.
Whatever his final thoughts are, we can surmise from his expression alone that he's accepted his fate, and that he's grateful his last seconds alive are locking eyes with someone who's important to him. Someone he cares about.
And THAT—that was enough to crack through that thick shell of hatred I'd developed for Adam and shatter it like the mask he wore for seven and a half episodes of the show. THAT 8-second moment was enough to make me reconsider my stance on Adam as an irredeemable villain.
(CURSE YOU, VIVIENNE!!!)
Does this scene cancel out all the heinous things Adam does throughout Season 1? All the lives he destroys, all the pain he causes to thousands upon thousands of souls? Absolutely not. But it does change my perception of Adam from "obnoxious egomaniac with no self-awareness" to "obnoxious egomaniac with no self-awareness that is a product of the flawed system he perpetuates."
And, I gotta wonder, what would Adam have been like if Heaven had been different?
#hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin spoilers#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin adam#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lute#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel niffty#hazbin hotel theory#spirit musings#I had to do a character study of adam#that scene lives rent free in my mind#and now i'm kind of obsessed with adam despite how much he irked me#how dare you vivienne
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My partner often joke about how we wouldn’t want each other to find anyone else if one of us were to die, so I’ve been thinking…. Joel x fem!reader where reader had lost her long term partner months before meeting Joel. She develops feelings for him but can’t bring herself to move on. “He would want you to move on.” “No, he wouldn’t.” I’ll leave it up to you if they do end up together or not cuz I just can’t decide lol
AN | Please, this is so soft and everything 🥺
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language; mention of death (cancer) and grief
Word Count | 2.8k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Just before he could kiss you, you pulled away. You pulled away so fast, you almost tripped over your own feet and stumbled backwards.
"What's-"
"Don't," you held up your hand, shaking your head, "please."
"Baby," the way he whispered was so tender that it almost made you cry. He took a hesitant step closer, "what's wrong?"
"I can't do this."
"Do what?"
"This," you repeated, pointing between your bodies as his entire face fell, "us. I can't do this, Joel. I can't be with you."
"I thought…" he exhaled heavily, hands on his hips as he tried to gather his thoughts. This was not what he had expected, "I thought we both wanted this. I thought-"
"You were wrong," oh. That hurt to say. The look on his face made you want to take it all back. You could see the tears listening in his eyes, "and so was I. I-I'm sorry."
"Can we just talk about it?"
"I've gotta go," before he could do or say anything else, you almost ran away from him, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. This was the worst.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"What's wrong with you?" Ellie could tell something was wrong even before Joel got the chance to sigh as he walked into the house. She set her book down and looked at him with a concerned expression, "what happened?"
"I don't even know," he sat down next to the young girl with a huff as she raised an eyebrow. He said your name softly and she leaned in closer, "she just left. Said she couldn't do this. Whatever this is."
"What did you do?" She asked, trying to keep herself from sounding too judgmental either way.
"All I did was try to kiss her," there's a sheepish blush that creeps into his neck and cheeks, "I didn't think it was out of place. It seemed…"
"Yeah," she scooted closer to him and gently patted his arm, "I think she's just scared."
"I haven't done-"
"Not of you," she quickly shut down that path of worry and fear, shaking her head fervently, "its just…has she told you about her partner? From a long time ago."
"No," Joel's face marred with worry. You'd only vaguely mentioned a partner in the past as he'd been getting to know you, but now he was curious and worried, "she hasn't really talked about that much."
"They were together for a while," Ellie explained, "a lot of years…she said…I think this needs to come from her but she said at one point they had a child. She only mentioned it once-"
"Fuck."
"Fuck," she agreed, "her partner died a few months before she moved here."
"Oh," he ran a hand over his tired face and sighed heavily. He'd had no clue - he still felt like a jerk. He wished he hadn't tried to kiss…not because he didn't want to, he really did, but he hated the idea that he hurt you even more. Even if it was accidental, "oh."
"I thought she told you," Ellie hated seeing him upset and knowing that you were upset, "but I'm sure she will…maybe she just needs a little bit of space."
"Yeah," he agreed with a grimace. He wanted to go over to yours now and work it all out. But he also didn't want to chase you away. You were worth, worth waiting for, "I'll give her time."
"It'll be okay," Joel wished he had as much confidence as Ellie did. He desperately hoped she was right, "I promise."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You felt so stupid for how you just ran away from Joel. The sensible thing would have been to talk to him and explain everything that was going through your mind. But when he leaned in to kiss you, every coherent thought had gone out the window.
And the thing was that you really liked him. You found yourself falling for him harder and faster than you'd ever dreamed of or imagined. And it was scary. You hadn't felt that way about anyone in a long time…since him.
It still hurt to think about; it still felt just as fresh and deep as the day it happened. And now you felt like you were betraying him by falling for someone else.
It was odd to even think about. You didn't even have to think about it at all, it happened so organically and everything with him felt so natural.
Joel was unlike anyone you'd ever met before, in the best of ways. He was kind, caring, smart, funny, and a multitude of other things that became evident after you'd gotten to know him.
And you knew, deep down, that you owed him an explanation. Even if it hurt and was hard to do, you had to tell him. He deserved it.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
A few days had passed since the incident had occurred. It took an entire three days to work up the courage to seek out Joel and talk to him. When you found him working in the small shop you approached quietly, trying not to startle him. He must have felt your presence because he turned around and looked at you with a surprised expression on his face.
"Hey there," you whispered softly, holding up your hand in a meek little wave.
"Hey," the expression on his face was nothing short of relief. His shoulders relaxed and he instantly looked like the weight of the world was off his shoulders.
"Listen, I–...can we talk?" He nodded and he motioned for you to follow him to the back where there was more privacy. It was a chilly winter afternoon, and snow had started falling softly. You held out your hand and caught a few flakes in your palm, watching them dissolve quickly.
"Listen, I want to a-"
"Don't," you touched his arm and shook your head, stopping him before he could fully believe that he was at fault for anything, "don't apologize, Joel. You don't owe me an apology - I owe you an apology."
"You don't have to…" he insisted sincerely, putting a finger under your chin and turning your face up to his, "you don't have to do anything. I just want to know that you're okay."
"I am…I think," you found it hard to look into his soft gaze, swallowing the lump in your throat, "there's something I have to tell you. I think it might help explain what happened. But maybe you already know - I have no clue what people spread around."
"Ellie," he answered as you relaxed. You adored the young girl and if anything, you were glad he heard it from her, "told me the shorthand version of what happened. But if you're ready, I'd rather hear it from you."
"Thank you," you blinked back the tears that were already welling up. He wasn't just judging, he just wanted to listen. To support you, "its kind of funny in a way. In a weird, sad kind of way but Ellie…she's almost the same age as my son would have been."
"Oh," he almost choked on the singular word. He knew that story all too well, "sweetheart…"
"My son, he…his name was Benjamin but we called him Benny. I had him when I was really young," you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly. The cold air felt like it was burning your lungs, "he was born into this cruel world that took him from me way too soon. He was just a kid…he was my baby, you know? He was seven. Seven. How is that even fair?"
Joel tried to keep his composure as he wiped away your tears. He'd told you about Sarah; you listened and held him then. Loved him so much it made your heart ache. He'd had no clue that you'd gone through the same thing.
"My baby," you sniffled softly, leaning into his touch, "but at least then I had my boyfriend - my son's father. We'd been together for a long time already, since we were just kids really. I loved him so much. More than anything in this world besides our son. Everything fell apart but we always had each other. We promised each other that we'd always be there for one another."
"Can I…can I hug you?” he wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and make it all go away, and make everything better. You looked at him with big, wide doe eyes and nodded, melting into his touch, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
“I know,” you whispered as you buried your face into his chest. You never felt safer than when you were with him, “thank you. Joel, I…”
So many words were swirling around in your head and you wanted to get them all out. You had to.
“You don’t have to say anything more,” he kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tightly, “only what you want to.”
“I want to tell you everything,” you whispered, “Joel, I thought I’d be with him forever. I thought we’d grow old together and experience the rest of your lives together. But then he…he got sick, really sick. They couldn’t…do anything for him. They said it was cancer and that it was too far gone to do anything that could be helpful. They didn’t have everything they needed either. It was a fast onset, but I really wonder how long he’d felt like something was off but didn’t do anything. How long was he suffering without telling me? He was gone so quickly; it felt like I didn’t even get a chance to process everything and then he was just gone.”
“I’m sorry,” he felt his own heart break for you. He hated that you ever had to go through a single bad thing, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I lost my son and my life partner,” you pulled back and wiped at your eyes, “the two people I thought I’d have forever. And it still hurts so much.”
“All that grief,” he whispered, “is just all of that love you have inside of you. It’ll never go away, but it will get better. I still think about Sarah everyday too…and Tess. I miss them both more than anything, but I’ll always have them in my heart. Nothing will ever change.”
“You understand more than anyone,” you inhaled shakily, “you know how hard it is.”
“I do,” he agreed softly, “but it’s okay to move forward - we can’t live in the past forever. It took me a damn long time to realize that too, but it’s true.”
“I want to,” you looked at him nervously, “but I don’t know if I can. The hardest part of all is that…I can’t help falling in love with you. But I can’t be with you.”
And there it was, out in the open. All those things that he had been feeling had just been validated; he just knew that the other shoe was going to drop. He tried to control his expression as your lip trembled with effort to keep from crying.
“I can’t….I can’t do that to him,” your hands balled into fists at your side as you tore your gaze away, “I can’t just…be with someone else. It’s not fair - it’s not…fair.”
“Sweetheart,” the pet name crashed over you and that only made you cry harder. Joel Miller was such a good man that it made your heart yearn and ache for him, “it’s okay to be with someone else. And I’m not just saying that about me - for anyone you could ever be interested in. You’re not moving on, you’re not forgetting him but you’re moving forward with life. That’s okay.”
“It’s not-”
“It is,” he insisted gently, “you’ll never forget him or your son or love them any less. But it’s okay to be happy and to love others. If it was the other way around, would you want him to be able to be happy and move forward?”
“Yes, of course,” you insisted with a fervent nod, “I’d always want him to be happy, even if that was with someone else in his life.”
“Don’t you think he’d want the same for you?” he asked, causing your mouth to open and close in surprise, “wouldn’t he want you to be loved, to love, and be happy?”
“It’s different-”
“It’s not,” but his response was not unkind. It was patient and loving, “you deserve all the love and happiness that you wish for others to have. I know it might be hard to accept that, fuck, it was for me too. But I…I allowed myself to fall in love with you too, and to love Ellie as if she was my own. That never once changed anything I felt for Tess or Sarah. I love them as much as ever. But I…I love you too.”
“Joel,” you were silently pleading with him, wishing you just had all the answers then and there. But it wasn’t that simple. Things almost never were, “I…can’t. I’m sorry, I just…not right now.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he touched your cheek, brushing his knuckles gently over your soft skin, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here, if and when you ever need me.”
All you could do was nod before turning on your heel and scampering away once again. This time you were left with so many more questions than answers. You had a lot to think about.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It was late when the knocking came at his door. Joel grumbled as he got up from the couch where he’d inadvertently fallen asleep to answer the door. Since it was so late, he figured it might have been something important.
Much to his surprise, when he opened the door, there you were. You looked up at him with nervous eyes and a sweet little smile.
“Hey,” he relaxed as he leaned against the door. It had been over a week since he’d last seen you. And honestly? He’d felt like he was dying on the inside, “what’s going on, sweetheart?”
“I’ve been thinking,” you confessed as though it was some sort of secret, “a lot. About a lot of different things. But also everything that you said. And I realized…”
He remained silent as he gave you an opportunity to compose your thoughts. He was busy trying not to scare you away again.
“I realized that you were right,” it was so quiet that Joel wasn’t sure he’d actually heard you, “you were right. I can’t go through the rest of my life being sad and stuck in the past. I have to move on, but I never have to forget.”
“Yeah?” he tried not to get too ahead of himself. For the most part, he was happy that you felt that way; he wanted you to be happy, truly happy, even if that wasn’t necessarily with him, “I’m glad you were able to work it out. You deserve it - happiness and love, all of it.”
“I know that now,” you shuffled your feet nervously, taking a moment to muster up your courage, “and I want to…Joel. I want to…I’m in love with you.”
Butterflies exploded in his stomach as his breath caught in his throat. You were serious - only this time you weren’t running away. Instead you were looking at him with determined eyes and a nervous smile.
“Funny,” he tried to ease his and your nerves, “I’m in love with you too.”
“May I…will you…?” you couldn’t even get the words out, way too anxious and nervous to finish your sentence. But Joel, lovely and wonderful Joel, knew exactly what you were asking. He nodded tenderly, taking your face in his hands before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.
You stiffened for a moment before leaning into his and kissing him back. It felt so different than what you were used to, but also so right and lovely and amazing. When he pulled back, the two of you were grinning at each other shyly, so many unspoken things flowing between you.
“Everything in time,” he promised gently as you leaned in kissed him again, “I’ve got you, okay? Always, I mean it.”
“I’ve got you too, Joel,” and he knew you did. He knew you were speaking from the heart, “always.”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#pedro pascal#tlou#tlou hbo
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⚠️tw: dubcon-noncon, cockwarming
https://at.tumblr.com/lovelykhaleesiii/i-wanted-to-send-you-a-request-for-aegon-but-they/h8y6upgfx13f
No problem I can wait💕, here is the request
Let's imagine aegon is tall lmao😭😭 so he has this girlfriend who is smaller than him and when they have sex she hurts and he most of the time goes crazy how his cock sticks out on her stomach so he doesn't really listen to her and always leaves marks or bruises all over her body however she likes it and really enjoys it and he loves the cock warming, but once they are done he always takes care of her<3
listen, I will die by the hill that TGC is a REASONABLE HEIGHT. he's taller than me so I'll take him <3 but this was very hot to think about and even hotter to write about!!! 🥵
apologies if this is crap nonnie, I always feel like my smut writing is literal shit !!!!
Delicate
PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader
WORDS: 1,422.
WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon non-con, size kink, p in v sexual intercourse, cock-warming, mentions of bruises, swearing.
It was a no brainer that the size difference between Aegon and yourself would have its 'consequences'. It was blatantly obvious. Aegon from a young age was considered a larger boy, much taller than the average boy, he was twice the size than his younger brothers, and it would always remain that way. Your petite self did not help the situation either...
Many ladies in the court wondered and worried that if you were to fall with child, by the grace of the Gods, it would be an unbearable experience for you, potentially even life-threatening. Aegon reassured you multiple times, that it was an over exaggeration.
"If my mother could do it at such a young age in her maiden days, I'm sure you'll be just fine, Y/N, I'll make sure of it."
Nonetheless, the sex itself, was unreal...
No matter how often Aegon would pathetically try to ease himself into you, it was no use. It would hurt regardless: his cock was quite thick, along with its just above average length, it was a pleasurable pain only he could provoke. This along with his eagerness to always fuck you senseless, went hand in hand. You often would have to repeatedly remind Aegon in the beginning to take it easy on you, pace himself, as his height and bulky mass would tower over you.
Whether it was in bed or up against a cold, sandstone pillar, Aegon would make it possible to fuck you anywhere. He was a strategist when it came to sex, making it work, no matter the environment or situation.
If he had to have you, he’d have you.
Most of the time, he’d impatiently sought you out in a some isolated corridor or hallway, if you were not already present in the confinement of your shared bedroom. Pinning your smaller frame between a solid wall and himself, his arms would cradle you from beneath your thighs, lifting you off the ground, tip toed, barely reaching the ground, as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading your thighs wide enough for him to get comfortable.
"Aegon, baby, be gentle with me-" You'd bashfully whimper in the beginning, as the tip of his cock would teasingly stroke your entrance, slowly working its way into your tender folds. He’d always have a sly smirk on his face, feeling his smile against the crook of your neck or on your lips as he kissed you longingly.
You were a broke record, often having to remind Aegon again during the act itself, only this time, with all the might and energy you could muster.
“A-Aegon- please ba-baby. Just give me a-a minute-” You’d breathlessly utter, small tears swelling in your eyes as they naturally fell down your flushed, red cheek. It was an uncontrollable response, and one that Aegon would not realise until the deed was done. Whether Aegon blissfully ignored your pleas or simply did not hear you in between his deep moans and groans, he was a man lost in the moment. Sometimes, you felt it even encouraged him to push your body further, testing exactly how far his limits with you could be…
The deeper he'd try to plunge himself into you, his fast-paced thrusts growing sloppier and slower, as Aegon attempted to shove himself deeper, each push sent an aching jolt to coarse through your body, it felt electrifying. The way your tight, dripping walls would try desperately to accomodate for his size, your hips gradually bucking forward, as your back gracefully arched against the wall. Your arms would be strapped over his broad shoulders tightly, clinging for support, as your nails dug deep into his soft, fair skin. Leaving a chaotic trail of red marks strewed across his back. Your entire body would work overtime for Aegon. Feeling his cock throbbing inside of you, pulsating against your folds, as his tip would stroke your cervix was invigorating.
At times as you intrigued yourself to take a peak down, your sweat beaded forehead resting against Aegon’s heaving, sweaty chest. You could’ve sworn a fair few times, you could see an actual bulge protruding in the low pit of your stomach, as his cock remained heavily buried inside of you. Although, it could have been the rush of adrenaline playing with your mind.
“Fuck Y/N, always struggling to take me princess. Look at you trying so hard to. Is my cock too much for you, baby?”
“Am I too big for you, baby?”
He knew how to shut you up, too. His plump, soft lips moist having licked them so often as he thought about all the things he’d do, on his way to find you.
“Fuck baby, you’re doing so well. You feel so fucking good.”
Even more so, although Aegon constantly made it known that he had no intention of hurting you, he’d often at times, lose himself. As he worked himself into a euphoric climax, he was oblivious to his own strength against you. His strong grip on the curves of your waist would grow firmer, feeling your walls clench even more to his fat cock. Your warm, hot breath forming a slight dew against his skin, as you’d shyly moan his name, crying for him sent him over the absolute edge. The man was feral seeing you so vulnerable and fragile against him. The way he could so easily devour your body, have you weakly tremble to stand after a round of mindless fucking, you’d struggle to walk like a proper lady for the hours or day to come…It was all his undoing. Nonetheless, just as you would mark him, he would mark you although without any awareness. His firm grip would leave fingerprint marks that would turn to small, purple-greenish bruises in the following days to come, all across your waist line, hips and occasionally even your ass cheeks. It made him feral how easily he could lift and cup each cheek in the palm of his hands, pressing your body deeper against his, as he felt your soft breasts pushing up against his bare chest.
And his mouth did wonders… He loved leaving hickeys all across the sensitive spots against the crook of your neck and your breasts. His lips and tongue sucking on the sweet, lavender scent of your natural aroma from the floral infused baths you’d plunge yourself in, mixed with the saltiness of the sweat freshly perfused on your skin from the sex. He loved it.
Nonetheless, the familiar, warm feeling of your sweet cum oozing all along his cock, dripping through whatever sheer gaps as Aegon moved and adjusted himself inside of you. The clear, white substance pooling down slowly from your entrance down your aching thighs and across Aegon’s balls pushed against you.
It made it just a tad easier for you to relax, the pain less evident, when the extra lubrication was there. And in no time, Aegon’s own load was triggered, a hot, liquid mass shooting through your cunt, before some of his own load would, too, spill past your entrance. If you were generally in bed, Aegon would keep himself buried inside of you, as you both composed yourselves. He’d adjust himself just the slightest, to release some of the tension inside of you, so that you’d be somewhat comfortable. He liked the idea of keeping his cum plugged inside of you, it was exhilarating for him to think you could be so full of him, a deep, primal part of Aegon even, hoping that you could take his fresh seed perhaps…
He would take his sweet time, only tending to you until he caught his own breath. Your breathing would become unison, as he’d gently stroke your dampened hair out of your face, holding your warm body against his own. You were always so weak after fucking, and Aegon undoubtedly felt responsible for that.
At the very least, he would help to care for you in the aftermath, always running a bath, carrying your delicate body from the bed or walking you from wherever, into the water. He’d even insist on cleaning you himself, gently wiping the wet cloth against your skin, being extra careful in between your thighs. He’d dry you himself, clothe you in something sheer and lightweight, and even feed you himself. He always ordered for some dessert, knowing it was your favourite, and in hopes of wanting you to regain even just an ounce of energy. Regardless, he was gentle with you always, and you were very thankful of that.
#aegon ii targaryen#tom glynn carney#TGC#aegon ii targaryen smut#aegon ii targaryen imagines#aegon ii targaryen imagine#aegon ii targaryen fanfic#aegon ii targaryen fanfiction#aegon ii targaryen fanfic requests#aegon ii targaryen imagine requests#aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen x y/n#aegon ii x y/n#hotd#house of the dragon#king aegon ii targaryen
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I love your metas! I was wondering... have you or anyone else tried listing all of Bruce's childhood traumas? Comics zero in on Crime Alley, but EVERY time I see a snippet from his childhood it's invariably a little-to-a-lot fucked up whether his parents are involved (loneliness, bedtime stories, his mom lovingly promising to haunt him) or not (falling into the cave, going to a boarding school run by a killer in Batman Gothic, Tommy Elliott in general, a childhood friend died of diphtheria in Batman Through the Looking Glass... he saw a LOT of death as a child, actually...)
Thank you! I unfortunately don't know of a post listing all of Bruce's childhood traumas. You've kind of already covered a lot of bases, Anon, but for the sake of completeness I'll go through all you've mentioned and the traumatic incidents I can recall too:
Bruce falls into a well full of bats and develops a phobia in response [notable post-Crisis flashback in Batman: The Man Who Falls]
At five years old, Bruce's favorite story to have Thomas read to him every night for a month is “The Veldt” by Ray Bradbury, which is largely about kids with such neglectful parents that they bond with an automated house and then leave their parents for dead [mentioned by Bruce(s) in Batman/Superman (2013) #2]
Bruce witnessed his father performing surgery on a dying man [flashback in Batman: The Long Halloween]
Thomas reads to Bruce “The Animals and the Pit” by Alexander Nikolaevich Afanasyev, a story containing cannibalism and brutal fights for survival [flashback in Batman (2016) #74]
Thomas had Bruce watch horror movies with him, with Martha having to comfort Bruce afterwards in a bit of an unorthodox way... by promising that if they died, his parents would haunt him [flashback in Detective Comics (2016) #1027 -- Ghost Story]
Bruce experienced neglect as a child, with his father's parenting style being potrayed in multiple stories as authoritarian, which led to Bruce idolizing him and craving his approval, but running to Martha for comfort when his father was too harsh [notable flashbacks in Batman: The Dark Knight II (2011) #12, but bits of this can be seen in Batman: The Long Halloween, Batman: Hush, Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #58, Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on a Serious Earth etc.]
Bruce had a friend called Celia Small for a while, whom he adored. He watched her die of diptheria while he recovered, blaming himself for it [mentioned in Batman: Through the Looking Glass]
Bruce was sent to a private school as a child, which he resented as being "sent away"; the school is described as hell, a place where children were beaten, humiliated and had to fight off the sexual advances of older teachers. Bruce gets spanked as physical punishment by the headmaster, who turns out to be a serial killer, because Bruce glimpses the severed head of his only friend Robert as it happens [flashbacks in Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #7 -- Gothic]
Bruce accidentally shoots a duck with a rifle his friend Mooley had brought with them, and the death of the animal becomes a traumatic memory associated with the death of his parents, because of the gun [Batman: Secrets #4]
Bruce's childhood friend, Tommy Elliot... um. I guess I can just list Tommy Elliot, but the most direct traumatic experience at the time must've been having to stop Thomas from killing another kid, after which Thomas was put in a psychiatric institution [flashback in Detective Comics (1937) #837]
Bruce's father hits him while angry about a stock investment, with Bruce declaring in childish rage to his mother afterwards that he wants him dead... on the same day that his parents got gunned down, because Bruce's survivor's guilt needed more ammunition [flashback in Batman (1940) #430]
And then there's the shooting of his parents at the tender age of 8 years old! So all of this is prior to that! Two dead friends, one who avoided him after the unfortunate duck incident, and one friend who had a violent breakdown and got taken away... And Bruce attempted suicide after his parents died too, as told in Batman (2016) #12.
#...I am very sad now#Bruce does have a very complicated relationship with death. he has nightmares about death especially at the beginning of his career#there's a hallucination sequence related to Bruce's fear of death intertwined with Joker at the beginning of Batman: Cult#that's fascinating#asks#batman#bruce wayne#bruce wayne meta#abuse mention#suicide mention#batman meta#my meta
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Birthday Sex - Wes Hicks
Minors DNI - Please don't read if you're under 18!
Wes Hicks x F!Reader
This contains smut
Let's pretend for a second that Wes didn't die at the hands of Ghostface.
A/N: I had a smut blog forever ago that I just stopped writing for. If anyone has a request, please feel free to send them my way! (I'll have a separate post including what I will and won't write)
It’s Wes’ 19th birthday, and the only thing he wants for his birthday is you.
“Babe, we need to go back downstairs!” You said, as Wes continued to kiss your neck.
“But it’s my birthday,” he whined between kisses.
“We have to go eat cake,” you said, before he smirked.
“I’d rather eat you.”
It took a few minutes to convince your boyfriend that he needed to return to his party. Once you reminded him that his mom was downstairs, he finally agreed.
He was mingling with a couple friends, but couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. The dancing you were doing with Tara, the way you licked the icing off your fingers from the cake you were eating, the flirty glances you gave him from time to time. He was going crazy, caught up in the thoughts of you bent over every piece of furniture you came in the vicinity of.
After a couple hours, the party started to die off, and his mom had gone to bed. He couldn’t wait any longer to have you to himself. Once the last few straggling friends cleared out, his lips were on yours. He wasted no time, leading you to the basement door.
“Why are we going down here?” You asked, as he pressed you against it, kissing your neck.
“Because I can’t fuck you the way I want to if my mom’s two doors down the hall from us.” You moaned lightly at his words as your heart began to race.
Once you made it down to the basement, you both started shedding clothes. He pushed you back on the couch, the cool cushions giving you cold chills on your hot skin.
He attacked your chest, gently licking and sucking your nipples. You were trying so hard not to moan, and Wes started to get frustrated.
“I wanna hear you, baby,” he said, kissing back up your chest to your neck. You still tried to fight it, because the last thing you wanted was to wake his mom, even if you were as far away from her in the house as possible.
Unsatisfied with your silence, he reached his hands between your legs, rubbing your clit. You couldn’t suppress the moans any longer as they started to flood out of your mouth.
“That’s it, baby,” he said lowly, before replacing his fingers with his mouth.
“Oh fuck, Wes,” you gasped as he lightly sucked on your clit.
“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled against you as he slid a finger inside you, then adding another. Your breathing got heavier, your moans got louder. Your brain couldn’t process thoughts, just how good he was making you feel. Your legs started to shake as he moved his fingers faster.
“Wes, I’m gonna-“ before you could finish your words, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. He pinned your hips down as he got you through it, gently licking your clit.
Once you came back down from your high, he stood up, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your lips. That wasn’t enough for you, you were craving him. You pulled him down on top of you, the kiss becoming way more intense. You felt his length pressing against you.
“Baby, it’s your birthday. Let me take care of you,” you whispered against his lips. He hesitantly got off you, taking a seat beside you. He wanted to be inside of you so bad, but he also loved the way your mouth felt around him.
You sat on the floor in front of him, gently stroking his hardened cock. He leaned his head back when you put him in your mouth, gasping as you started to go down on him. After several minutes of you giving him the best head you’ve ever given him, he asked you to stop.
“Baby, as much as I’m loving this, I want to cum in you,” you felt the wetness pooling between your thighs at his words. You smirked as you stood up, him grabbing at your hands to pull you to straddle him.
As you slowly sank down onto him, you both whispered “Oh fuck,” as he filled you up. You sat there for a minute, giving yourself a second to adjust to his length stretching you out. Once you started grinding on him, his hands started to help you move your hips.
“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” he said between his heavy breathing. You soon felt that familiar knot forming in your stomach, as you started to move faster. Wes reached between the two of you, rubbing your clit. He knew you were close as your moans got louder, and the grip on his shoulders got tighter.
“You gonna cum for me, baby?” His words sent you over the edge, tensing up and tightening around him. He repositioned you so you were on your back as he fucked you through your orgasm. He was so close himself, only needing a few more pumps into you before he moaned all kinds expletives in your ear and relaxed on top of you.
“I love you,” he whispered, as you both got up to get dressed.
“I love you too, baby.”
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PINNED .. an assortment of quotes found on pinterest .
i crave touch, yet i flinch every time someone gets too close.
how quickly the blade becomes you.
rage is a promise kept.
no one can hate me more than i hate myself.
you, who opened suns in my heart.
the word "father" rotted in my mouth.
i was born in an abundance of inherited sadness.
are you praying again? how raw are your knees?
can someone please be proud of me? like, fuck, i'm trying.
there are teeth marks on everything he loves.
i have done back things. i can't take them back, and they are part of who i am.
i am not a creature that was born. i am a fire that was set.
the best way to get your heart broken is to pretend you don't have one.
[he/she/they] is in my heart and i suffer.
do you love me enough that i may be weak with you?
in the crooks of your body, i find my religion.
i was a girl gulping a woman's grief.
i have pasts inside me that i did not bury properly.
i'll see you on the other side of the war.
you said i killed you - haunt me then!
i can't tell you how piercingly and endlessly i think about you.
i love you in vain, alone, in a terrible cold.
you will love [her/him/them] to ruins.
impossible loves. i am very much afraid they can become an addiction.
maybe we exist to bleed. maybe we exist to burn.
still, there is a terrible desire to be loved.
still, there is this horror at being left behind.
i come home - and i have a feeling of a ghost returning to its haunt.
my dear, i will always be this tender for you.
i'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees.
i'm ruined by your voice's deep dark lullaby.
i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we have suffered enough.
i couldn't touch you without ruining you, so i didn't touch you at all.
you laugh like a little girl, and inside you think like a martyr.
you are not my cure, nobody has that power.
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okay I watched restoration and I'll probably analyze it more in depth later when my brain has processed what I've watched but here are some of the thoughts I had while watching (I stopped live blogging part way through so some things may be out of order lols):
okay first thoughts: we’re at a convention, and dylan is some sort of director for some super unpopular thing. ngl that’s a pretty harsh downgrade from journalist/news correspondent.
hi kai. she seemed to be more like her s15-s17 characterization than her bg/chorus cameo characterization for the 30 seconds she was present (which I remember really disliking)
wash is in the hospital as prisoner 619b…bros did the UNSC arrest him again?!?
“I’m not even sure I got his voice right this time.” okay so restoration IS another simulation
the director being a therapist when the counselor is right there lmao
bros no way they got elijah wood to voice sigma again??
is that the counselor I hear on the PA system??? that’s what the subtitles said anyway. but anyway BROS HE ACTUALLY FUCKING LIVED LETS GO (but why is his ass not in jail??????? there’s no way he managed to get a job, let alone one in a UNSC hospital, but if this IS a simulation which I think it is and epsilon himself admitted to making mistakes already then I’m okay with that development ig)
NO IS DOC A FIGMENT OF WASH’S IMAGINATION NOOOOOO MY MANS IS FINALLY LOSING IT FR
“Listen to me! You’ve gotta listen to me!”
479er??? I’ve always had the hc she was arrested w wash and the other pfl personnel at the end of s6
“Our mission men—and blue” caboose is trans confirmed
“Don’t feel bad afterwards. I forgive you. I know it’s not your fault, I’m sorry this is happening to you.” omg caboose not dunking on tucker is what he presumed to be his final moments.
SARGE GOING TO SAVE CABOOSE <3
oh okay I predicted months ago before the 2nd trailer came out that at least one of the bgc was going to die and I was right! I thought it was going to be caboose but rip sarge (and doc)
I’m really disappointed that wash didn’t get to do more tbh. the meta was HIS enemy but he was regulated to comedic relief :(
also wash jumping off a cliff to activate the recovery beacon is :/. bro was literally a recovery agent he should know how to activate it to summon lina like she’s a deployable unit in uhh. ways that were NOT that.
did not expect tex to come back but okay, also tex/lina fighting together feels like fanservice but mmmmmmmmmmnh.
awww tex and church get to be together again, dying together as one like they did at the end of s6. TEX SOFTLY HOLDING CHURCH’S HAND YES!!! WE LOVE SOFT TENDER TEX IN THIS HOUSE!!!
damn the “wash and lina having their trauma and traits swapped for no reason” thing is. hmmm don’t like that, have never liked that. I tried to see if I had any posts on my old blog about this topic bc I remember talking about it in the past and I sort of do? eh whatever tldr; lina is the one haunted by the past and wash is supposed to be the one giving the emotional speeches but hhhhhrng. will definitely be talking about that more later even though I thought the scene was super sweet (also ct!!!!!!! my girl!!!!)
I don’t like that they were all separated and that grif was going to leave, these mfs were forced together in a shitty box canyon at the start of the series and I feel like it would’ve been better if instead of being forced together they all chose to stay together but it is what it is.
“Bow chicka bye now.” bros it’s over…
okay ngl it was pretty rushed pacing wise and I’ve got so many bones to pick (mostly about wash bc ofc) but speaking as an ending to the series I think it works. it all started in a box canyon which was later revealed to be an elaborate training simulation, so it’s fitting that it it was revealed very early in the run time that it was all a simulation, and it all ended in the box canyon they started in. I thought the themes of feeling guilty and being able to forgive oneself were very interesting (might get into that more later as well…) so yeah.
it’s flawed, but for such a long running series that had originally been intended to only be a few episodes, I think it ending with tucker telling us it’s over and to go home is honestly the best way they could’ve done it. all the other times the series had “ended” it was done in a way where it worked as a standalone end for the series, but it was always open-ended enough that a continuation could be made if they wanted to.
there isn’t going to be a continuation this time, the story is over, but just because the story has ended doesn’t mean that we can’t make our own stories. red vs blue will live on so long as there are people who want it to, which feels pretty on the dime doesn’t it?
#mine#rvb spoilers#rvb19 spoilers#rvb restoration spoilers#eli watches rvb19#not t/oaru#rvb19#rvb#red vs blue#rvb restoration#red vs blue restoration
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Ethan Winters Doesn't Get Enough Love and that's Heartbreaking
So I'm gonna preface this by saying yes: there will be spoilers to the ending of Resident Evil 7 and Village. If you don't want that scroll away now. Leave, shoo, outta here, go on git, *angrily shakes broom and smacks it against the door to make a loud, aggressive sound*
——————————————————————————
Okay so I get Ethan was the "villain" of Resident Evil Village because he killed everyone's favorite vampire mommy but this is in fact a Resident Evil game. Alcina and her daughters and the rest of the four lords were always going to die. It's the nature of the game. It didn't help that Capcom flipped the script and leaned VERY heavily into the villains of Village when it came to the marketing. (Hell I'll bet Capcom is literally kicking itself for making Lady D the first chapter boss) but they really went heavy on making Ethan kind of take a backseat to Lady Dimetrescu and Heisenberg for this game. Which I think is really kind of shitty because we get to see Ethan at his best in this game both in terms of characterization and development.
I need to give a shout-out to Todd Solely, Ethan's mocap and voice actor. We don't get to see Ethan's face in the game so we have to go off of every little action Ethan does and every bit of dialogue we get from Ethan we pay a closer bit of attention to. It's like when you lose one of your senses every other sense tries to make up for its loss. Some truly stand out moments of this were.
1. When Ethan is rejecting Heisenberg's offer of using Rosemary as a weapon and Ethan just spits back at Heisenberg "Rose is not a weapon, fuck you." Ethan freaking lowers his head and leans into the fuck you. You can just tell Ethan is not having ANY of this at all and while I know a lot of people wanted an option where we could have sided with Heisenberg, I'm glad we didn't. Forcing us to pick between Mia and Zoe in RE7 was already a nightmare. Like would the option have been nice yes, but the canon of Resident Evil is being held together by duct tape and spit at this point. That would have torn down the whole house of cards that is the continuity of this franchise.
2. When Ethan is in the village and after he watches the floor cave under Elena and he watches her burn to death. Ethan starts audibly crying, "why does everyone around me keep on dying?" And when he leaves out the window he slams his fist against the pane and yells out why this is happening to him again. You partially wanna go 'come on Ethan, you're in a Resident Evil game, get with the times.' but you realize Ethan thought he was free, he thought if he and Mia cooperated with the BSAA and did what Chris told him to everything would be okay. Yet here he is, back again in Resident Evil hell and he's had three years of him trying to rebuild his life after an EXTREMELY traumatic event just thrown out the window.
3. When The Duke points out that the jar Ethan has is in fact Rose's head and we see him drop the jar like it was a bomb. We saw Ethan's brain literally break. That's his daughter, the one thing he loves more than anything in this world, in this tiny jar. His whole world has shattered. And then when The Duke tries to make light of the situation the abject fucking hatred and pure venom in Ethan's voice. Especially the line "You'll pay if I find out this is a lie." With the delivery of an almost animalistic, hatred-filled growl. It sent a shiver down my spine. It felt like Ethan was willing to freaking maul The Duke with his bare hand (and what's left of the other one)
4. It's not as serious as the last three, but it's actually rather heartwarming. The whole opening portion of the game where Ethan is walking around the house with Rosemary commenting on things throughout the house. There's so much tenderness in this opening. This is a bit of a contrast to the very terrified but almost cynical towards the end delivery we got for Ethan with RE7. We're now seeing a much more tender and loving side to Ethan. Especially when Ethan is pretending to be one of Rosemary's stuffed monkeys. It's silly and cartoonish but it really shows the depth of Ethan and just how much he loves his daughter.
5. Ethan's become such a little shit by the time Village rolls around. He may be yet another human* trapped in a Romanian hellscape with mutated nightmares, but by god is Ethan willing to verbally beat you down if you step in his way. "Looks like your outside matches your inside now, psycho witch." he shouts at Lady D. in her Dragon form." Or when he talks down to Moreau after killing him. "In death as he was in life. Disgusting." And the delivery of that disgusting too was just *chef's kiss*
6. When Ethan is killed by Miranda and is in the Purgatory state with Eveline. Even though the effects make it seem really hard to make out what Ethan is trying to say, I also think it genuinely is because Ethan is freezing, his body has gone cold, his body has given up on him at this point and Eveline reveals the truth. Ethan has always been dead. Ethan is shocked at this realization. His whole life for these past three years have been a lie. But to see Ethan drag himself up again solely for the sake of saving his daughter? UGH. SO GOOD.
7. The entire ending cutscene where Chris is helping carry Ethan and Rosemary out of the Altar and back to the Helicopter. It's honestly so heartbreaking. Once we saw Ethan's good hand start to disintegrate, we knew. Ethan's time was up. Ethan's body had taken on too much damage and the Mold couldn't keep him alive much longer. His final words while alive in this phase still make me choke up every time. "Mia..? I'm so sorry... I love you... Keep Rose safe. Watch over her.. Teach her to be strong.. Goodbye Rosemary." In Ethan's last conscious moments the only thing that mattered to him were his wife and his daughter. I.. i need a moment..
Ethan Winters was different than any other Resident Evil protagonist. He wasn't some ex-air force pilot turned sharpshooter, super-cop who punches boulders. He wasn't an ex-army master of unlocking turned international savior and founder of a paramilitary group created to stop bioweapons. He wasn't a rookie cop turned direct operative for this universe's version of the Secret Service who saves the president's daughter. Ethan is just a regular systems engineer from California who loves his wife so much he was willing to drop everything for a chance to save her. Ethan's just a civilian forced to survive the world of Resident Evil. Hell, Ethan didn't survive, Ethan Winters was killed by Jack Baker after Jack stomped on Ethan's head. What we know as and see as Ethan is really a collection of mold that re-animated Ethan and took over his body and personality. It's downright horrific when you think about it.
Ethan being a dead man walking is something that I've thought about a lot since finishing Village for the first time. To know that Ethan isn't Ethan, but instead is just a collection of mold cells that used his body and has dog-eared his consciousness and personality is insane to me. Not only was Ethan able to resist Eveline, the source of the mold that created the thing that became Ethan, but he was able to resist The Black God (the Megamycete) completely. The mold collective that was Ethan Winters was able to fully retain Ethan's shape, form, appearance, consciousness and be completely unaffected by most external factors. Even in Resident Evil biological terms, what Ethan Winters was, was nothing short of a miracle. When Ethan "dies" in the game during a game over screen we don't see him mutate into your usual flavors of Resident Evil biological nonsense. We never saw Ethan disintegrate after dying (if he did it was done off screen but bleh) Ethan was a full-fledged human while absolutely not being one.
The complications and plot holes that this opens are very numerous. Why exactly was Ethan able to maintain so much of himself despite purely being a mold being? How was Ethan able to resist even Mother Miranda even while being directly connected to the Megamycete? The source of ALL of the mold infection? How was Ethan able to sexually reproduce and make a (mostly) normal human? How did Mia not get re-infected with the mold by having sex with Ethan? Why didn't Ethan mutate as opposed to say Jack despite having similar regenerative abilities? If the BSAA was able to physically remove mold spores from both Ethan AND Mia, how did they not realize that Ethan was even more infected than Mia?
Don't get me started on Mia, she's getting her own rant soon enough but Mia while being just as much a victim of this situation as Ethan, Mia Winters is easily one of the worst characters as a person in Resident Evil. She lied to Ethan about her occupation as a researcher for The Connections, she physically assaults Ethan on multiple occasions (she was infected by Mold and under Eveline's influence I'll give her a pass here.) But most importantly Mia is fully aware that Ethan is still infected with the mold. This is compounded by the fact that originally in RE7 we were told that Mia was just Eveline's handler. When in reality at the Exposition Bombing at the end of Village we see a photograph (see below) showing that Mia and Miranda weren't strangers. They knew each other enough to take a picture with each other. Mia wasn't just a handler, she was a full-blown researcher and scientist with The Connections and she was fully aware of the extent of Ethan's infection. Yet she willingly allowed herself to be impregnated by a molded Ethan. She sits on the secret for a long time, she almost even tells Ethan the truth in an argument a week prior to the events of Village. Yet she doesn't. I want to give a lore-related theory/explanation to this. I can't remember exactly which game it was but Wesker had entered into a file that he hypothesized that the human psyche plays an impact on mutations on highly mutagenic strains of viruses. I.e. think about how Alexia became this bulbous, insect queen in her second form because she saw herself as royalty, genetically superior and above all else. Mia had no idea what would have happened if she told Ethan the truth, she didn't know what would have happened to Ethan whether he would have just had a full-on mental breakdown or if he would have mutated because his psyche would have become so fractured. Let alone what would have happened to her family. Because while Mia may have been duplicitous and lied to Ethan both in RE7 and Village: Mia genuinely loved Ethan. I don't think there's any way we can debate that.
(The person on the far right of the image is Mia. The woman to the left of the little girl is Miranda. The little girl is Eveline. Mia and Miranda weren't strangers. Which begs the question: why did Miranda keep Mia alive in her lab?)
Ethan Winters is a character who has left a huge impact in only two games. While he's your generic everyman protagonist with a little bit of biting sarcasm in RE7. By the time Village rolls around Ethan is a fully-fleshed character. We get our actions survivor back but this time with basic military training, even more sarcasm, and now with the full range of emotions. We get to see Ethan as a tender and loving father towards his daughter, from criticizing Mia (Miranda) for reading a scary pop-up book with Rose to him swaddling his daughter as she starts stirring and crying. To holding onto Rose tightly but ever-so tenderly as Ethan is physically falling apart and carbonizing. We watch Ethan cry as the people he tries to help die around him, we see Ethan filled with abject and carnal rage towards his adversaries. Ethan truly is Resident Evil's titleholder for best dad. (Sorry Barry lol) and for a character with no face that we can see during the main game, Ethan is exceptionally expressive and emotional and shockingly so human for this franchise.
I'm beyond excited for what Shadow of Rose: the DLC for village will bring. My theory is that since Rosemary has gained access to a remaining sample of the Megamycete, we probably will see Ethan again in some way/shape/form since the Megamycete absorbs the consciousness of all who die within the reach of its roots. Whether or not Ethan is corrupted or he finally reunites with the daughter he loved so much is yet to be seen. But I would love to see a tender moment where Ethan pulls Rose into the tightest of hugs. He remarks how he's been inside of her watching her through her connection to the mold. Ethan would be profusely apologetic about not being there for her, but that he's so incredibly proud of the strong young woman she's become.
Ethan Winters deserves more love and recognition and it's a crime he doesn't get his pearls. I love this daddliest catch of a man who literally goes through HELL just to save his daughter. It broke my heart when Ethan died, just like it did when I saw Piers die from Resident Evil 6. But we got a fantastic character out of all of these two games. So go on Mr. Winters, smile. I hope whatever afterlife you are on you're loved and valued.
#ethan winters#resident evil 7#resident evil village#alcina dimitrescu#karl heisenberg#donna beneviento#salvatore moreau#mother miranda#mia winters#rosemary winters#Chris redfield#resident evil#LONG POST GOD#eveline re7#jack baker#The moldiest daddliest man
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HIII I HAVE A REQUEST!! like maybe like step 3 cove asking fem reader to prom their senior year!! it’s a really nice proposal with a sign and flowers and stuff, MAYBE BY THE BEACH?/?1)?2
but he’s also like rlly nervous and kinda fucks up but reader accepts anyway because they’re in LOOOVEEEE AND ITS JUDT RLLY CUTE AND STUFF
OMG YES<3 I've beent thinking abt prom w cove for days now. this is LONG btw, sm so I will make headcanons/another drabble with cove n reader clothes shopping and at prom <3
tags : fluff, step 3 cove, fem reader (use of she/her pronouns & girlfriend), non-established relationship but yk abt each others feelings n it becomes established
synopsis : cove asks you prom and it goes almost horribly wrong.
cove is totally shitting himself with nerves.
everyone has been asking their crushes, lovers, and friends to prom and cove wants to ask you so bad. he sees you looking a bit longingly at the public proposals and the way you stare at him afterwards with a look of anticipation and want has him reeling.
after a late night of looking at prom proposals and seeing one too many people get rejected at school, cove knew a public proposal was out of the question.
he'd die if you rejected him, and a public display of that would make him flee the country for sure...
cove had enlisted the help of his dad, a willing volunteer after cove almost busted at the seems during dinner last night with anxiety and tears.
they drove all the way to Prism Vista to pick up supplies, the likelihood of you seeing them at the store too high and cove certainly couldn't handle the teasing or knowing eye of the clerks, everyone knowing what time of year this was for seniors.
as his dad pulled into the driveway, cove exhaled shakily, noticing that you were still out with your family.
quickly snatching the stuff in his arms, cove slams the trunk and winces.
cliff laughs at his son's haste and tender nerves and throws the front door open so they can make haste on the board.
it takes a bit of planning, and the only thing cove tasked his dad with was the calligraphy, cove's hands far too shaky for such big letters, but he glues on plastic seashells and sand dollars for awhile before he helps his dad with painting the letters as he becomes more focused and determined to make this the greatest promposal ever.
eventually cliff left, letting cove take over now that he didn't need help with the preparations.
it's a corny poster, with "will you be my mermaid to my merman at prom?" in pretty blue letters and 'prom' in yellow glitter.
cove sits back, a bit hot from being hunched over and moving around as he ogled and analyzed the poster while working.
he wipes his forehead and moves the board to the guest bedroom where he knows you won't see it if you decide to sneak in his bedroom.
cliff notices cove cleaning up, and he perks up at his son's relaxed movements. "hey bud, all finish? how about we order some pizza?"
cove wasn't ready. well he was, he had the bouquet of your favorite flowers and the sign, and he even bought your favorite food from one of the restaurants in Sunset Bird.
instead of his usual way of entry, cove makes his way to your front door and knocks.
your ma opens the door, a sweet smile on her face but with a knowing look only a mother could have, cove pulled at the the collared shirt he wore and he really hoped between this half buttoned shirt and jeans, you didn't know what he was planning...
"cove, sweetie! looking for y/n?" noelani smiled, biting back a snicker.
cove distantly thinks that he hopes the sign doesn't blow away while he's here.
"y-yeah... um, is she here?"
pamela appears from behind, having been laid up in the living room. "I'll get her for you, don't run off!"
noelani hisses a scolding "pam!" at her wife's teasing and smacks her lips as pamela walks up the stairs to your room. "sorry sweetie, you're too easy for her to tease." she says bashful, knowing very well she can't help but snicker sometimes at cove and y/n's romantic fumbles and years of pining.
as cove distracts himself with small talk, you come down the stairs with pamela.
cove feels his heart beat against his chest, like a bee stuck in a window. he hoped you couldn't hear it, and with the way he felt, he hoped you couldn't see it beating out his chest as well..
in cove's hazy state, your moms have left and it's just you two.
"hey cove! what's up?"
cove swallows, wiping his hands on his jeans. you watch his mannerisms, you know them by heart and you see the sweat on his brow even though there's a chill in the air as the night befalls you.
"h-hey y/n.." great. as if he wasn't obvious before. "um, I wanna show you something, i-if that's okay.." cove laughs, and he tries to push away his worry. you never rejected him before, you always agreed with his crazy ideas or encouraged him to a better plan of action that still fulfilled cove's mild (or major, if he's feeling particularly bad) need for adventure.
you agree, and make your way across poppy hill.
before you reach the shore, cove instructs you to cover your eyes and he'll guide you to his surprise.
cove beams as your trust him, your eyes closed and covered by your hands as he takes you by the shoulders and helps you down the hill.
as you approach the park, cove sighs with relief as he sees his preparations are still there, he can even see the board hiding behind the jungle gym.
cove paced, waving his hands in front of you in a 'stay there' motion, as if you'd leave.
"tell me when i can open my eyes!" you laugh.
cove exhales, taking in deep breaths before he held it in anticipation.
he reached for the sign, briefly he thought about how embarrassing this was, he wished he could skip ahead but seeing your hopefully happy expression would make every second worth it.
"okay... open your eyes."
you shed your hands, and blink as you adjust to the light. eventually you beat the glare of the sun, and your mouth dropped in awe and shock.
cove feel hot under his collar, the breeze does nothing to relieve his edge.
while you're silent for the most part, besides a mumbled "what's this?.." that almost washes away with the beating waves of the sea.
cove speaks, "y/n.. i know you've been waiting for me to ask you, and uh.. i'm sorry i didn't ask you sooner. i was afraid you'd say no and that i'd embarrass myself and.." cove sighed, adjusting his grip.
"never mind. that's not what I wanted to say. y/n... i really like you, i have for a long time.. and i wanna go to prom with you. as my date."
cove flushed, his cheeks rivaling the color of the blushing evening sky.
you stood there, silently and shocked, but happiness bloomed on your face quickly. with watery eyes and a blinding grin you brushed cove's hands so he'd drop the poster.
cove drops the poster, smiling shakily as you wrapped your arms around him. "i like you too cove, so much. and i'd love to go to prom with you!"
cove grinned, happy as a peach. buoyed by the new development, he cupped your face. "can i.. kiss you?"
you nod, leaning into each others embrace and your lips meet in the middle.
you break apart, cove's head falls to your shoulder and water washes over your sandaled feet.
wait. water?..
the food! cove jumps up, suddenly remembering how close he'd put the food to the shoreline and the rising tide.
"the food! the flowers!" cove scrambles to the wet blanket he laid out, wishing he'd noticed this sooner.
he picks up the bag of take out, noticing how soaked the food already is. the tide must of washed over the food before cove came back.
thankful for small miracles, the flowers are only damp on one side but not bruised or flattened.
cove holds up the bouquet and presents it yet holds it close. "well... the food is ruined. the flowers are okay though?.." cove smiled sheepishly.
you sigh and approach, curling your hands around cove's trembling worried ones. "thank you for the bouquet, it's beautiful."
"i'm sorry.. i should've known i-" cove rambles.
"cove.." you try to sooth him.
"i hope you still wanna go with me, even after the majority of the surprise is ruined.." cove deflated, looking like a sad puppy who got his treat stolen by the other pup.
"cove! it's okay!" you push back his bangs, "I still wanna go to prom with you, even if our food and flowers almost got washed away for the fishes.."
he leans into your hand, blinking watery eyes.
"i'm glad.." cove brushes his nose against yours, leaning into your body. "so uh.. are we dating now?"
you laugh, "yes cove, if you'll have me as your girlfriend that is."
"of course!" cove kisses you again.
this is a great way to end your senior year.
#our life: beginnings & always#cove holden#cove holden x reader#cove x mc#cove x reader#olba#cove holden fluff#cove holden x reader fluff
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Ooh, do you have any good Jason fic recs?
anon I cannot tell you how long I've been waiting to see those words!!!! yes I have good Jason fic recs in fact I have so many good Jason fic recs that after narrowing it down I still have fifteen links for you
I have read more fanfic for Jason Todd than maybe any other character ever. I do not understand the hold this man has on me but it's simply the situation we're in. anyway
Jason comes home fics
Make a Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is hands down my favorite. I'm talking favorite DC fic, top fics of all time period, not just from this list. I love this fic series. It is actively and regularly updating, thank fuck, because that little boost of serotonin is everything keeping me going I swear
The 70 Days After Groundhog Day is technically from Dick's POV, but it's about the aftermath of a timeloop that Jason was stuck in. it's. oh my god it's so good. just trust me on this one.
Emotional Motion Sickness is the "bruce goes to therapy" fic series we all want. canon get on this level
Retrograde Motion - I never used to like de-aging fics; not for any particular reason, I just never vibed with them. Recently I decided to see what all the fuss was about (bc there's so goddamn many in this fandom) and I'm glad, because I opened this fic and it's just. oh my god. the use of the de-aging trope here is truly incredible. after a whole week of dipping my feet into the trope I never need to do so again, because this fic made me fucking lose it. this is not going where you think it's going. also, for some reason there's not that much rebirth outlaws fic, and I really like what this author did with that team
matching wounds haha just gonna sneak my fic series on here and pretend that it was an accident, wait how did that get there (some jayroy later in the timeline too which can be read on its own if Jason coming home fics aren't for you)
other non-ship
Too Much Fucking Salt deals with the straw that broke the camel's back. I've read all 22k words of this in one sitting more than once. this is the anti "Jason Todd comes home" fic (this is in itself a whole genre of fic too honestly).
take his name out of your mouth (you don't deserve to mourn) is about Jason mourning himself, which he fucking deserves to. also he smokes a joint with Dick
Sown in Winter is about Jason pulling himself out of a depressive episode partially through the power of Stardew Valley. also technically jayroy, but it's honestly incidental to the story for the most part imo
JayRoy
I do read other ships for Jason but unabashedly this is my favorite, so
A Solid Resume - competency kink. that's all I have to say.
Tenderize is a series of oneshots all of which slowly build Jason and Roy's life together and coparenting lian and I just !!! could also double as a Jason coming home au but honestly that's mostly in the first fic. also a lot of discussion of various chain grocery stores in the united states that I will probably never actually step foot in
Dick Grayson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Two to Three Weeks (But Who's Counting) is so fucking funny I die every time I reread this. there's a scene early on in a coffee shop that just. I don't even know what to say everything about this is perfect. I AM the girl sticking her nose in their business, at least spiritually.
dust devils on the horizon isn't even the only western au I've bookmarked for these two. something about jayroy and horses, man
unity of time: april 27th, 2020 is just,,,, super sad, man, idk what to tell you. it's f!jayroy, but happens after Roy died in sanctuary during the 24h of Jason's death day, so all of it is very fucking depressing. It's also fucking beautiful. I want to reread it now.
Promise After That I'll Let You Go is a poisonivory fic. I was introduced to poisonivory through the daredevil fandom earlier this year and may I tell you when I found out that this author writes for jayroy I lost my goddamn mind. this is my personal favorite, but I almost recommended at least two more aus. Their jayroy sugar daddy au is one of the only sugar daddy aus I've ever truly enjoyed. also really like the one where roy has had feelings for dick since their teen titans days but still starts a fwb thing with Jason. poisonivory can make me into kinks I'm not even into I s2g. anyway this one has lian literally dragging roy back into jason's life
finally, Reciprocation (or: Sex as Violence) shouldn't even really count as a jayroy fic but I feel weird putting it in the other category since it is sort of a jayroy fic. it's ace-aro!jason, which is one of my personal favorite interpretations of Jason (with so much textual evidence wtf), but there's still like... a lot of sex in this. Jason does not have a healthy relationship with sex in this fic. I would describe this as ending in a QPP for jayroy and lian.
honestly there's a lot of good jason and roy and lian fic out there I didn't rec cause this is already long enough
so yeah this is my very VERY pared down fic rec list for Jason Todd let me know if you want more and thank you so much for asking
#I have 632 fics bookmarked for dc and 130 of them are jayroy#most of the folder is misc and a considerable amount of that is jason focused batfam#oh I should've linked the jason and ollie fic I bookmarked ages ago. oh well I'm not looking for it now it's one thirty am#and I need to be up for work in like. six hours#jason todd#jayroy#batfam#dc#fic recs#before and after fic#gail speaks#ask#anonymous#can somebody confirm redfam is the name for jason roy and lian's dynamic I wasn't confident enough about it to put in the post itself#also it looks like radfem if you're not paying attention
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The Man, the Priest, the Legend: Florentius Baenius
We don't talk about my guy Florentius enough and he doesn't have enough lore in game so FUCK IT. I gave him some because I don't know if I'll get to go over it in my fanfiction [specifically, the Great War stuff. Fingers crossed that I do, but in case I don't, that's what this post is for].
Yes I do in fact believe that his connection to Arkay is, in fact, real. Some of the shit he says is uncanny, and the other shit is downright scary. It isn't unheard of for Divines to speak to mortals [remember the quest where you save a little Karthwasten girl named Fjotra from Forsworn, only for her to become the new sybil of Dibella?], so it isn't too much of a stretch to say Arkay gives Florentius all the tea on everyone around him.
Florentius can train the player in Restoration, and he's the guy you go to for alchemy ingredients. He's a healer, and damn good at it. He's old enough--in my mind--to have served some time in The Great War, where he no doubt mastered these abilities and witnessed some truly awful and gruesome scenes. I imagine he got into the war after his fall out with Isran, which makes it extra painful [and I love painful]. He of course rejoined the Vigilants after, as he didn't know what else to do.
That being said, I don't think Arkay was ALWAYS with him. Rather, I think Arkay came to him after The Great War. Runil, the grave tender from Falkreath, turned to worshipping Arkay after the war on the side of the Thalmor. Florentius, then, most likely knows Runil, and perhaps they're even friends after sharing a similar experience.
Going back to Isran, they're ex-boyfriends. They have the chemistry! And I just can't ignore the 'goofy sunshine and grumpy asshole' trope and I love them being a bit of a parallel to Vigdis and Serana. Of course in my fanfiction they get back together because, well. I can. The way Isran is just so ANNOYED when you ask him about bringing Florentius to the fort is too funny. I love annoying the man whenever possible what can I say--
Anyway. Due to Florentius' knowledge in the healing arts AND his connection to Arkay, he's very capable of performing miracle-level bullshit if he's desperate enough. I won't spoil my fanfiction, but he does exactly that . . . with a bit of intervention from another Divine as well. [Someone really didn't want her to die.]
OH, and because of his experiences in The Great War, I think that's often why Florentius is . . . goofy. Funny. Sarcastic. It's how he copes with the trauma. When he is serious, the entire room seems to shift and it's just .. . so good. I don't know the voice actor's name, but serious props to him for accomplishing so much emotion just through voice. It's fantastic.
If you didn't want to read all of that: basically, Florentius is easily my second favourite NPC in Skyrim, if DLCs are included. EASILY. He's awesome and I love him.
#Senu Dialogue#Florentius#Florentius Baenius#Skyrim headcanons#Dawnguard#He's just a great character with so much DEPTH that we are of course robbed of#So I set out to fix that in the only way I know how: WRITING ABOUT IT#And yes I am an Isran/Florentius shipper. I WILL DIE ON THIS FUCKING HILL#I need to stop writing these posts and get back to my chapter oops
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Hello, fellow enjoyer of BG3/Prospect/Arcane/The Ghoul Boys/TAD/WWDITS/probably other things I've yet to discover because you clearly have stellar taste in media! ✨
I wanted to throw an idea at you that has been rotting my brain: TAD songs for BG3 characters.
"Inkpot Gods" simply IS Wyll and Karlach. "The Old Witch Sleep and The Good Man Grace" might seem the obvious choice for Astarion but I would like to make an argument that "Farewell Wanderlust" is even better. "The Horror and The Wild" is Karlach's all on her own. "Elsa's Song" is giving Gale for some reason? Unsure why.
Anyway, sorry for the random long-ish ask. But what do you think? :D
Ahhhh thank you so much. I've seen you in my notifs and am happy to report that we're officially best friends now <3
Thank you so much for throwing this idea at me holy shit???? I went back and listened to all three TAD albums specifically to answer this, so.... yeah, we're definitely best friends.
I'm loving what you've got so far -- Inkpot Gods works so perfectly for the Avernus duo, and honestly could be the theme song for bg3 in general. Jesus christ, what a song, am I right. Farewell wanderlust is sooooo Astarion I'm going to lose my mind about it I mean be totally normal. Also I feel like it fits Lae'zel really well too. I actually found that a lot of songs I liked for Astarion worked for Lae just as well. Interesting. Anyway, during my trillionth re-listen to the TAD albums here are the notes I took on my phone lmao:
Love Run for Wyll. The wholesome, strong, hopefulness this song radiates fits him so well. It's also really fucking romantic, and so is he.
I also think that Two Minutes is fitting for him. That whole vibe of an abandoned child, of someone who is so tired and beaten down by life but still manages to keep going despite it all. I really adore Wyll, and the more romantic TAD songs fit him perfectly.
I love Wild Blue Yonder for Karlach. It's silly but heartfelt, and so full of yearning. It has a light approach to life while still acknowledging how hard things can be, and that's just so Karlach. Also, "We don't know what's out there -- could be ghosts or monsters, or a robot vampire, I don't know" sounds like something she would say lol
You're so right about The Horror and the Wild. That's just. Karlach and Gortash. "Give me back my heart you wingless thing" are you fucking kidding me right now, I'm going to pull a Karlach and explode.
Also I think The Horror and the Wild fits Astarion equally well. I'll always yammer on about how Astarion and Karlach are two sides of the same coin, and this song is a great representation of that. "You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child -- witness me, old man, I am the wild" -- Astarion and Cazador. Please send help, I am ill over this and will not be recovering.
"Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring" Karlach. Astarion. Shadowheart. Lae'zel. Literally help me.
Blossoms for Gale. It's a very intense song, but it's also weary. It's strong but desperate, yet determined. I also think it fits him as the one who would be leading the group if Tav wasn't around. It's a somber and dramatic song, but it's ultimately fueled by tender love. Sound like anyone else we know?
Similarly to you pairing him with Elsa's Song (which I love btw), I think The Rockrose and the Thistle is VERY Gale (and, dare I say, bloodweave? The singer begging to die and the other person "sewing" them back together??? Hello?????) Just like the more romantic songs fit Wyll, the quieter, more subdued songs fit Gale. I think those songs really capture desperation in its most potent form, and Gale is kind of like the human version of that (sorry Gale)
Okay, New York Torch Song could be any of the ladies. Literally any of them. It's perfect. This one also makes me think of Karlach and Wyll.
I adore That Unwanted Animal for Astarion. The helplessness paired with the subtle sense of revenge and violence. The sexual tones throughout. The lack of romance.
I like The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace for Astarion, and I also really like it for Lae'zel. Her whole being raised by a cult thing really aligns with the vibe of the song -- being told that you're one thing and having to fight to be anything else, the desperation of feeling like you have no purpose. Fighting it all and coming out on top anyway. The steady increase in the intensity of the song representing getting your power back. It's so herrrrrr
King fits her well too. This song is so badass. I think it represents the soldier archetype well. It's cool, she's cool, it's perfect.
Pray makes me think of Shadowheart. Obviously the religious tone of the song fits her well, but also its pure spite. It's really giving "abandoned daughter" vibes, which is perfect for her. Also, "honey I'm no man, I'm what's left when children go to war" are you fucking kidding me.
Anywayyyyy, this was long, yikes. I have a lot of Thoughts as you can see. Thank you SO much for letting me yap about two of the things I love very much and might be obsessed with, who knows. I'll end by officially asking for your hand in marriage <3
#just kidding#unless....#anyway ily thank you for this ask and if you ever want to chat some more feel free to send another one or even message me <3#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 companions#baldurs queue#tad#the amazing devil#ask box#ask response#bg3 meta
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