#Our Heritage. Your Sound

[mikkeneko]

I've been musing a bit on that one post that went around during the recent holiday season, to which someone added their family tradition of Present Practice. My god! Imagine actually telling kids what behavior is expected, instead of expecting them to intuit it and punish them when they get it wrong!!

Separate post because this topic is a little tangential to that, but I think it does a great job of unearthing one of our very well-hidden internal biases, which goes as follows:

Good people don't need to be taught.

A good person (in this case, a good child) shouldn't need to be told to be gracious and grateful when given a gift. A good child should just know that a holiday tradition of gift-giving is a social performance to strengthen family bonds and that personal preference or genuine reactions are secondary to that performance. A good child should just know how to value gifts, how to express thanks, how to praise and compliment. No caretakers in their lives should need to put any effort into instructing or modeling these things.

Good people should just know how to be good. If they were really Ontologically Good, their inherent goodness would simply intuitively guide them to correct behaviors. If they can't do that on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.

.

.

...Which all sounds very reasonable and obvious, and surely a mistake that only fundie christian families would make! Except that people in the social justice sphere also do this all the time. It's not anybody's job to educate you. It's 2024, how do you not know this already? If you were a Good Person, you wouldn't need to be taught. You would simply intuit the correct philosophies and gravitate to them according to your superior internal moral compass.

If you were a Good Person, you would already know that everything you were taught by your family and/or background was wrong. You should have rejected it already. You should have cut off your family, your heritage, everything about your childhood and upbringing that was Bad and Wrong. You should have known it was all a lie.

If you were a Good Person, you should be able to find the correct way yourself. You should be able to seek out the proper educational resources, and distinguish them from bad advice leading you astray, and make sense of them all according to your own internal moral code.

If you were a Good Person, you would have found your way by the proper, dignified, official channels, not by reading a comic or watching anime. You shouldn't need entertainment or art to guide you. You should just know.

And if someone can't do these things on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Doppelgänger

Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst, self-image issues, mentions of childhood trauma, addiction, our mans has had it rough as fuck™

A/N: Brought on by this post from @tarjapearce and the comments i made (I'm sorry i am a ho for some angst sometimes) I'm merging ATSV stuff with comic stuffs because NO WAY IS HIS MOVIE DESIGN LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE WITHOUT IT POSSIBLY COMING UP IN FUTURE MOVIES ASDFGHJKL

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

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You came home and it was quiet. Quiet and dark; and already you knew something was up. You left Miguel sleeping so you could attend to some meetings and paperwork at your office, and pick up a few groceries.

Miguel had been acting strange the past few days. You'd asked him if it had something to do with work and he simply shrugged the question aside, like it was a small chip on one of his broad shoulders.

You'd asked him what was bothering him again, and he simply stared at the carpet, muttering something you didn't quite catch, and he went straight to bed.

You were so worried you'd even texted Gabriel on your walk home:

Hey, Gabe...

Heyyyy! If it ain't my favorite brother's girlfriend!

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a soft snort. You only have one brother, Gabe.

No no, chica, I meant that you're my favorite of any girlfriends he's ever had. 😂

Gabe that sounds a little... Bad. 😬

Does it? Woops! Anyways, what's up? My big dumb, brick-house brother do something to make you mad?

No, Gabe... He's acting weird. Has been for the past few days, and he won't open up to me. I'm worried.

You could see the chat bubble pop up over and over again with '...' signifying that he was in the process of texting. With how many times it popped up and went away you were expecting a bible scripture's length of a text wall.

But what you got instead made your heart sink.

He saw our mom. She... She brought up Tyler.

Oh, god. You knew that Miguel and Conchata had a rocky relationship. Miguel had told you why. It was so bad, even just recalling everything, that you felt Miguel's pain like it was your own.

You also knew that Miguel's biological father, Tyler Stone, was the one that manipulated him, that used him, got him addicted to Rapture and almost killed him...

But it wasn't even the real dose of Rapture. It was simulated. Just another manipulation tactic. It was overhearing that conversation that Miguel found out the truth of his heritage, and you could tell that nugget of knowledge permanently chipped his sense of identity.

Even moreso when he confessed to you about Gabriela--

Your phone pinged.

They fought. It was... It was ugly. I... I didn't know about Tyler. God, chica, I didn't know. Dad was...

You felt your heart flop, knowing poor Gabriel was shielded by Miguel for so long so he didn't have to suffer like he did at the hands of their gaslighting and manipulative mother, his sadistic sperm donor... Miguel wanted nothing more than to protect Gabriel from that pain.

Your fingers flew fast on the little keyboard, a few spelling errors here and there;

God, Gabri im sory you had to fidn out that way

I know. It figures Miguel would have told you, before me, tho. He loves you.

He loves you too, Gabri. God, more than you know. He loves you.

I know. He was trying to keep me safe and out of Mom's drama.

No offense, Gabri, but if I ever see that woman I'm rearranging her face with a shovel.

OMG. I mean... After the things she said to Miggy, I... Kind of want her to at least feel consequences of her actions, y'know?

Oh, she will. Don't worry. Thanks for telling me this, Gabri.

Go cuddle my big brother and tell him I love him, k? Let me know how he's doing.

OMW home now, I'll text you when he's feeling better.

KK, see ya.

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Yeah. You knew for sure Miguel was still heartbroken when you came home after that.

You put the groceries away, a somber expression on your face as a million thoughts went through your head.

God, of course Conchata had to come see Gabriel at the same time Miguel was there. You wouldn't be surprised if either she could have tabs kept on him, just to... to try and lord her power over him somehow, like he was still that scared little boy, holding onto his baby brother, being his shield and buffer from their parents' fights.

That bitch had to have had a hand in Tyler using him the way that he did, that she had to have known about--

Your mind was knocked away from those dark thoughts when you heard glass shatter.

You dropped the bag of apples onto the ground, the fruits tumbling out and rolling across the floor as you made a mad dash to your bedroom.

Noting Miguel wasn't in there, you turned to the adjoining bathroom door, seeing faint light come down from below, small wafts of steam rolling out.

"Miguel?" You frantically called out, knocking on the door and leaning your ear against the smooth metal.

You could hear shuffling and the tinkling of glass shards, as well as the shower running; but no verbal reply.

You knocked on the door again, hurried and a little too hard, your fingers hovering over the control panel.

Before you could push a button, the door slid open.

Miguel was in nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning over your bathroom sink, his hands gripping the marble countertops, threatening to crack the material. Beads of water rolled down his muscular, tanned skin; droplets of water dripped from the ends of his thick, wavy chocolate locks, the natural curls more apparent thanks to the water.

That's when you noticed it. Your bathroom mirror, shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering the counter, floor, and in the sink.

Bright, scarlet droplets were on the floor, steadily building into small puddle from his right hand, his knuckles split, shards of the reflective material sticking out of it.

"I'll pay for it." His voice croaked out, unable to lift his eyes to meet your horrified gaze. "I just--"

"Oh, god! Miggy!" You breathed, reaching out, taking a step towards him, only to wince and hiss when the pieces of broken mirror stabbed the soft, delicate soles of your feet.

You gritted your teeth as the glass crunched, but you grabbed Miguel.

Instantly it was like a switch flipped inside of him, Miguel's head snapped up and he looked down at you, seeing the bloody footprints you now left on your tile.

He looked terrified at what he was seeing. How you just ignored the shards in your body in favor of frantically digging around one of the cabinets for your first aid kit.

"Bebita... I..." Miguel choked out.

When you found it, you killed the shower and stepped into the glass once again, pulling him into your room, and onto your bed, your feet leaving bloody prints as you walked, like macabre rose petals being left in your wake. Miguel had a large enough stride that he was careful to avoid getting any in his feet, but the smell of your blood permeated the air, it made him sick to his stomach. Not with disgust.

With guilt.

Of course, you checked him over first, plucking out the shards of glass from his knuckles and cleaning the cuts out with wound wash, ignoring the blood welling up onto the tile floor of your bedroom from.

You carefully roll his hand as you try to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Miggy, can you hold your--"

"I'm sorry." He interrupts.

You looked up at him, and only then do you see his face. Framed in his wet curls, his face was shadowed and haunted, his eyes dark and as tumultuous in a maelstrom of anxiety and fear.

You bring your hand to his cheek, caressing one of his sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "Baby, it's okay. It's just a mirror, I can--"

He shook his head, as if your touch to his face burned him like a hot iron.

He leaned over, grabbing your legs and pulling your feet into his lap so he can assess the damage, and return the favor of cleaning and dressing them.

"You're hurt because of me." He whispered sadly, dabbing the blood away.

"I'm hurt because of the glass, honey." You tell him gently, letting him apply the "honey" to the cuts in your feet, sealing them.

His massive hands encapsulated your ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as the rough pads caressed your skin. Like you were made of the delicate gossamer of a butterfly's wing.

He sits like that, not meeting your eyes. And god, did that hurt you so badly. You knew how important eye contact was with Miguel, he almost always went out of his way to keep eye contact when he was conversing with someone. Having him avoid your eyes... hurt.

Because you knew he was hurting.

"Miggy." You breathed. "Talk to me."

You move your feet from his lap and scoot closer to him, moving your face until he locked eyes with you again, and you could see the pain and the tears fill his own as he looked at you; his full, pouty lips trembling in an effort to hold his emotions at bay.

His shoulders dropped low, and Miguel leans forward until he was practically bent in half, clinging to you, burying his face in your chest as he fisted your shirt in his hands.

You rubbed his shoulder with one hand, biting your lip as he softly cried into your blouse, your other hand combing through his messy wet hair.

You stayed like that, for what felt like hours. You weren't sure how long it was exactly, with the blackout curtains drawn and the lights off. The only light that dimly illuminated the room was from your bathroom, and the open door.

He finally calmed enough to speak, to explain why he shattered the mirror.

"...I look like him." Miguel said, his heart in his voice, his soul stripped down and naked with raw pain.

"Mig--"

"God, I look like him. That... that cabrón." He hissed, tugging your shirt in his fists.

"I look like that bastard that... that made me into this." The self-contempt in his voice broke your heart.

You kiss the top of his head, murmuring against him. "No, you don't, baby."

"Yes, I do!" He snapped, pulling himself away from you and throwing himself to his feet. He paced like an angry tiger in a cage, waiting to swat at whatever keeper dared enter his enclosure. He didn't notice that he was stepping into the sticky, dried blood trails you left.

"I have his--his face. His fucking face--" He said, gripping his hair in his hands, tugging as he started to hyperventilate. "My fucking nose, my fucking cheeks, my fucking lips--they're all him! I'm not allowed to be me, every time I look in the mirror I see him! I can't ever get away from him! He's a part of me, he always will be! I fucking look like him!"

You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your soles as you dared to reach out, to touch the pacing tiger.

Your hands smooth up his back, gently, softly; then back down until they wrapped around his mid-section.

You feel him, how tense he is, how his muscles flex at your touch almost like he's bracing himself for some kind of blow that simply will never come from you.

You rest your cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin was burning.

"Baby. You don't look like him. You aren't him, and you never will be." You whisper.

You plant kisses wherever you could reach, not letting him go, feeling his body shake with each shuddering breath as your soft lips made contact.

"More importantly, Tyler will never be you."

"I--"

You cut him off. "Listen to me... Did Tyler figure out multi-dimensional travel, build a strike force of super-powered people from across the multiverse? Does Tyler, almost every day, work to keep dozens--no, hundreds--of universes safe from monsters?"

He didn't answer.

"And did Tyler Stone protect your baby brother from your mother all these years?"

No answer.

"You are Miguel-goddamn-O'Hara." You tell him. "I love you, with trauma, quirks and all. I love your little scritch-scratches you make, the way your bottom lip pokes out when you pout, your crooked teeth when you smile. I love your ridiculously large body, I love how you hug me. I love the little snores you make when you fall asleep at your desk, how you crinkle your nose when you're about to sneeze.."

You feel his hands slowly rise to touch your arms where they're almost-locked around his larger frame.

"I love how sweet and gentle you are. I love hearing you curse to yourself when you shock yourself with your soldering gun... I love listening to you bicker with Lyla, or complain about one of the other Spiders bugging you." You place more kisses after each sentence; hoping each one plants a seed of love beneath his skin, to bloom into a garden that he can admire and love, not hate for the very skin he was born with out of illegitimacy and infidelity.

"Tyler Stone is not you. He never will be. He will never be as good as you." You sigh against his skin, feeling the goosebumps form in the cold of your room, now that the adrenaline of his anxiety was beginning to fade, and his body became aware of the water that was slowly drying and cooling his skin.

"I love you, Miguel O'Hara. You and no-one else. Don't ever think for a second that you don't have your own identity because of your genes."

He slowly turns in your grasp, looking down at you with raw, unclothed emotion as his hand touches your cheek.

"You're more than that. You're you, and I wouldn't have you any other way." You say, your tone set and jaw tight; every word you spoke carrying a hefty weight of seriousness and honesty.

He smiles, almost sadly as you feel the rough pads of his thumb against your cheek, the little talon there poking you but not breaking the skin.

"...I..." He said, his voice stiff as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"I really will pay for your mirror, you know."

You grin up at him and turn your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.

"I know you will, Miggy."

"But I am curious... I felt like you were going to keep going with the affirmations." He said, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"Well, the last one..."

"The last one?" Miguel tilted his head down at you quizzically.

You grin at him again, your teeth showing and eyes creasing as you barely manage to reach around him, swatting his ass playfully.

"I also love the fact you have the nicest ass I've ever seen on a man."

He couldn't contain the snort that came out of him, and he reached up to cover his whole face with his other hand.

"Mierda..."

You giggle as you step around him, giving a playful swat to his ass once again as you walk by.

"C'mon, Miguel O'Hara. You got a broken mirror to clean up."

His shoulders lifted as he watched you, his eyes softer than you've ever seen as he smiled.

Yeah. You were right.

He was Miguel O'Hara.

And he was certainly going to pay you back for the smacks to his ass.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

Okay I have had this theory for months but I never actually laid it out before now. However it's well past time I actually do that considering episode 115 all but confirmed its truth (theres still wiggle room for me to be wrong, but honestly not much)

THE FERIN FAMILY ARE AASIMAR, AND HERES WHY:

The thing that originally made me go Hey Wait A Damn Minute was the visions of the original prophecy and its history that gillion got from that tree: "Another flash, and you see these red-haired olympian looking humans and elves and all kinds of different races that are flying with their own wings". And I heard that and thought about how much that sounds like aasimar, and then the weird dreams jay had and then captain widow insisting she has powerful blood and then star saying she sensed divinity on jay and then the whole ferin family's affinity for fire magic and everything just clicked into place.

Then in episode 114 we got the recording of Faye Ferin saying "hail the solar mother" and i was like no fucking way- BUT i set it aside because it felt like I could be reaching with that evidence. It could just be a religious phrasing, not necessarily something literal.

Then episode 115 happened and I got confirmation of my theory.

Grizzly doesn’t outright say "yes the ferin are aasimars”, but he gives us all the last few pieces of the puzzle.

Here's a link to the episode that should start where the confirmation is - the two tablets: https://youtu.be/M9ig9XCUrvU?si=oYdisYFxTqx6ogbb&t=868

Transcript of the tablets: Tablet One: Shards of the divine, these words are for you and you alone. We are descendants of the sun. Thus, we are the light - the beacon that will eradicate the dark. We are the flame to which all will yield. We are the shining justice that will always prevail. Our steps illuminate the way forward and our hands spark the tales of history. Tablet Two: Shards of the divine, these words are for you and you alone. Know your kin, recognized by the manes of flickering flame, wings that rival dragons, the golden suns in our eyes. Unity is the key to prosperity. Our elders will raise generations that burn with vigorous radiance.

NOW ON TO MY EXPLANATION!!

The thing that confirmed it outright for me is literally the line "We are descendants of the sun", because there are no ifs ands or buts about it - aasimar are descended from celestials. The aasimar entry for Monsters of the Multiverse states "Whether descended from a celestial being or infused with heavenly power, aasimar are mortals who carry a spark of the Upper Planes within their souls." the tablet Jay stole from her grandmother is written in celestial, and says they are descended from the sun(aster), ergo, descended from a celestial.

Next up is the whole "Thus we are the light - the beacon that will eradicate the dark. We are the flame to which all will yield. We are the shining justice that will always prevail." bit. The entry for Protector Aasimar (the subrace i believe Jay fits best) in Volos Guide to Monsters reads "Protector aasimar are charged by the powers of good to guard the weak, to strike at evil wherever it arises, and to stand vigilant against the darkness."

Then there's "Our steps illuminate the way forward and our hands spark the tales of history." Which then in the MotM entry it says "aasimar are mortals who carry a spark of the Upper Planes within their souls. They can fan that spark to bring light, ease wounds, and unleash the fury of the heavens."

THEN THERES THE REAL FUCKING GIVEAWAY!!! THIS LINE: "Know your kin, recognized by the manes of flickering flame, wings that rival dragons, the golden suns in our eyes."

MotM says "They resemble their parents, but … often have features that hint at their celestial heritage." and VGtM says "They are a people of otherworldly visages, with luminous features that reveal their celestial heritage."

OF THE CELESTIAL FEATURES OPTIONS OFFERED BY MOTM, ENTRY 2 IS "METALLIC, LUMINOUS, OR DARK EYES" AND ENTRY 3 IS "STARKLY COLORED HAIR". THE FERINS ARE WELL KNOWN FOR HAVING BOTH.

The tablets are, of course, not my only evidence.

the ferins arent born with The Ferin Eye as revealed by Jay having to earn hers and Drey talking about when he got his. "now icarus," i hear you say "wouldnt that mean they dont actually fit the celestial features requirement?" and to that i answer "NO! IT IN FACT FITS IT BETTER!"

In discussing aasimar celestial features, MotM says "These [features] often begin subtle and become more obvious when the aasimar gains the ability to reveal their full celestial nature." Jay didn’t have the Ferin eye until she earned it and its subsequent abilities. And we all remember how she earned it, right?

A weird ass fucking dream.

Now let’s look at that. According to VGtM “An aasimar, except for one who has turned to evil, has a link to an angelic being. That being … provides guidance to the aasimar, though this connection functions only in dreams. As such, the guidance is not a direct command or a simple spoken word. Instead, the aasimar receives visions, prophecies, and feelings.”

In Jay's first sun dream (Juice Roll With It // Episode #88), Grizzly describes the sun and says "You feel like its presence is trying to reach you. And as you notice, you feel almost like you want it to.”

And then the core of the dream itself:

Grizzly: “Do you think Jay can withstand this impossible heat of the sun as you get just barely one step closer?” Condi: “I’m gonna say no… but she would try anyways, if that is, like, what the feeling is kinda giving her, you know?” Grizzly: “This powerful presence, as hot as it is - you can’t help but think of your sister. You can’t help but think of your friends. But then, you think of your mother, and then you think of your father, and then you think of your grandmother” (makes condi roll con save with disadvantage, condi got an 11) “with an 11, you take that step forward, but this overwhelming pressure, anxiousness, fear, handcuffs your spirit, closes your mind, and you just feel the heat of the sun overcome you. And you are jolted awake back in the reality. … but you know that in this dream you lost. You lost to the heat.”

Then the second dream (Happy Wife Happy Life // Episode 102), where the sun is hotter and larger than before and excruciatingly painful:

Grizzly: “You just can’t help but stare at it with both eyes wide open. And behind you you feel another heat.” (Condi asks if Jay can see this heat or if Jay is too focused on the sun) “You know that this heat signifies that backing away and falling is not an option this time. But as you look at the sun, you once again think about your family: your mother, who said she was sick; your father, who called you naive; your grandmother, who threatens the safety of your friends. You think of your friends. So I ask again, this time: do you think Jay can withstand that heat? That pressure and that fire?” Condi: “I think as Jay is staring up at this sort of immense fireball that represents… obviously her pressure, and she feels that heat at her back… I don’t think she would look at the heat as, like, something preventing her from stepping back and falling anymore. But in this metaphorical sense - since a lot of this is a metaphor - she’d probably look at it as what she basically can’t turn her back on, what she can’t leave behind. Basically like her new hope. You know, what she wants to protect. So she’s in between this and this giant fireball. Um. And I think with that in mind she would take a step forward and, um. While maybe not fully confident in herself, she would jump into the fireball with all her might, doing her best. ... I think she can handle it. She thinks she can handle it.” Grizzly: “Fair enough. That’s all I asked. You jump in- go ahead and roll a con save with advantage.” (Condi got a 19) “You leap with almost like a raging fire of conviction even if you doubt yourself, jay. And the sun almost seems to open up to welcome you in. And at first, the searing pain of the fireball’s heat feels like it’s melting your skin. You scream until it feels like it’s melting away that doubt. And then, all of the pain subsides. There’s a calming sense that kind of overtakes, jay, in your subconscious. And it’s all white at this point - your whole vision.”

So the sun reached out to jay through a dream, as aasimar’s celestial links tend to do, and gave her a test of strength that she had to figure out for herself (“as such, the guidance is not a direct command or simple spoken word. Instead, the aasimar receives visions, prophecies, and feelings.” - VGtM). She only passed it by remembering she had people she needed to protect (“Protector aasimar are charged by the powers of good to guard the weak, to strike at evil wherever it arises, and to stand vigilant against the darkness.” - VGtM). And when she passed this test given to her in a dream: “speaking of your vision, you begin to feel a warmth behind one of your eyelids. And the next day comes as you’re the first to wake at the very crack of dawn. The sun rises, and you rise with it. And you blink a few times - you feel something different. … This time, you look into a mirror and, just like your dad, just like Drey, you see this bright orange glowing eye on one of the sides. And you feel whatever that was: you passed it.”

This, therefore, perfectly fits Jay into the aasimar’s celestial features description that “these [features] often begin subtle and become more obvious when the aasimar gains the ability to reveal their full celestial nature.” Jay had to prove herself to the goddess to earn another celestial trait.

And once more, “Icarus!” I hear you cry. “You keep saying Jay fits the Protector Aasimar subrace, but don’t Protector Aasimar have incorporeal wings that come from their celestial heritage? Jay’s wings are from a tattoo! That doesn’t work!” To which I say, “Are you sure?”

The Protector Aasimar’s subrace ability is called Radiant Soul and allows the aasimar to “unleash the divine energy within yourself, causing your eyes to glimmer and two luminous, incorporeal wings to sprout from your back.”

Jay’s wings come from enchanted tattoos with which she can cast Fly. These were a deliberate choice Jay made and are not celestial in origin. However, in the first sun dream, when Jay reaches out for the sun Grizzly says “You begin to feel the tattoo on your upper back sting.” When condi asks to clarify if it’s the Niklaus tattoo, Grizzly only says “Just the upper back.”

This, of course, leads me to believe that those dreams will or already have affected her wings in some way - perhaps leaving space for her to unlock more of her celestial heritage and power as she earns it. It’s something we’ll just have to watch and see for.

Either way the Ferins are aasimar, Jay's gonna be the first one in generations to earn their true celestial power from Aster, and i will Die On This Hill

#dragons hoard #another theory post except this time its Color Coded oooohhh shinyyyy #theres a much more niche narrative theory I could go into based on this too #but thats more speculation than direct theory so itll get its own post eventually #jrwi riptide #jrwi #just roll with it #jrwiblr #just roll with it riptide #jrwi jay #jrwi jay ferin #jay ferin #jrwi theory #aasimar ferins theory #jrwi 115 #jrwi episode 115 #jrwi ep 115 #jrwi spoilers

[ozzgin]

Hello, i wanted to ask you for a part 2 about the female predator from earth.

I wanted to know if you could write about the courting process with which male ? The gifts, show of power, that they are capable of producing and protect pups ... And one day reader has her first heat because before she didn't have potential mate. She's all sweet, affectionate and vulnerable, and that is total opposite of the typical female in heat who is dominant and fight her partner. How ours sexy hunters react and do ???

And expect me to soon ask a part 3 with a pregnant female 😁.

Bye, thanks for reading this.

Assuming the courting happens simultaneously I have a feeling it’d end in a bloodbath, so the harem shall be at distanced intervals for the time being.

Various Predators x Predator! Reader Headcanons: Courting

Featuring the previous Predators (Feral, Elite, Bad Blood and Berserker) but with a more detailed description of their courting process. Time to pick your baby daddy. TW: Dubious consent again.

Part 1: Meeting

Part 2: Courting

Part 3: Mating

Feral Predator is the most respectful and approachable of the lot. After all, he’s the one that introduced you to your lost heritage. His communion with nature and tradition shapes his beliefs of sacred respect towards the opposite gender. You’re the bringer of Life and his purpose is to serve you. He enjoys impressing you with his agile hunting prowess. He has perfectly adapted to Earth and if you desire to remain here, he is the only one that can provide for you. But don’t rush to assume he wouldn’t do well anywhere else. His blood is that of noble survival, relying on raw, primitive instinct and intelligence. He is not bound to technology or modern aids, just pure skill. Your lineage will have its success guaranteed under his watch. Feral Predator is briefly taken aback upon seeing your sudden affection, but he’s quick to figure out why you’re acting like this. At this point he may know your body even better than you do. No worries, he will show you the ropes. He will lead everything.

Elite Predator would very much like to simply scoop you up and return you to Yautja Prime. Though spending the rest of his life with a resentful wife doesn’t sound too fun, so he’ll have to make an extra effort to convince you. What do you even need convincing for? Truly, it must be your human background that stops you from seeing the obvious facts. He hasn’t been ranked Elite for nothing. He’s a veteran of the battlefield and has proven his worth plenty of times. You cannot possibly find someone better when it comes to guarding and training the offspring. He’s ready to put an end to your stubbornness when he notices your abrupt neediness. This it not how it usually goes and he’s unsure of how to proceed, but maybe this will serve as the final proof that you must choose him as your partner. Do yourself a favor and accept the given truth. There’s no one else for you.

The fugitive Bad Blood isn’t one to care much for approvals. Or morals, for that matter. Your protests are mere foreplay to him, although a little bit of compliance every now and then wouldn’t hurt. In that case he doesn’t mind threatening you with the lives of your little human caregivers. So you can be good and agree that he’s the best choice for a partner, or he himself can help you with your reluctance. Give you a little push. Oh, don’t make that face. Your parents would’ve agreed! There’s a whole universe to explore and you’re held back by pitiful attachments to creatures that don’t even matter. Once you accept him as your mate, you won’t need anything else. That’s a promise. It’ll be you, him, and the future sucklings as proof of your bond. There’s a reason he’s managed to survive for so long all alone: he’s strong. So really, it’s better to have him on your side rather than your opponent. Especially when you’re so vulnerable.

The Berserker doesn’t need to rely on threats or persuasion. He prefers to let his raw power and aggression speak for themselves. He knows that you can tell the difference: he’s a different breed altogether, stronger and bigger. Why would you willingly settle for less, when you can have the best of the best? You wouldn’t deny your future younglings the superior genes of survival. If you become his mate, you’ve sealed your success whether on Earth or any other Planet. As much as he enjoys your feisty, stubborn side, he finds your heated clinginess an addicting stroke to his ego. Your displays of affection are borderline pathetic, but that’s fine because it’s for his eyes only. See, you have the privilege of being as vulnerable as you wish with him as your protector. So go ahead and beg for his attention. He’ll be happy to comply.

#predator #predator x reader #predator headcanons #yautja #yautja x reader #prey #monster x reader

[thebadboyfanclub]

What Are You Waiting For Then? (Daemon x Reader)

Hey guys sorry for keeping you waiting, one of my friends was visiting so I was all day doing tourist activities, this was actually so exciting and refreshing to write!

-

“Nathaniel! Mother come quick Nathaniel is back!”

All Daemon saw was young woman ran barefoot heading towards his fellow soldier, Nathan was a man that got recruited to fight alongside Daemon to the Stepstones, he was a brave and honourable man that was shipped to the Stepstones under the fellow banners of the noble house resided in Lys named “Fyresteel”, they were the first to respond to the call for aid, the young strong man truly embedded their words

“None shall be left behind”.

The woman crushed her body to the knight almost knocking him over, she had wrapped her arms around him like her life depended on it, her clothes were semi tarnished and the hem of her dress dirty from the mud.

A few moments after she pulled away in arms length, examining Nathaniel with her eyes, the look she had on her face showed how close of a bond they shared, tears clouded her eyes as she gripped on to his biceps.

“You are back, safe and sound”

“If I died there would be no one to mess with you dear sister”

The woman did not respond, she only hugged him one more time to which the knight responded with the same warmth. Daemon was astonished by the tremendous declaration of emotions, he loved his family yet he had never been that close to his brother, if Daemon were to be back Viserys might share a hug however there would be no engulfing nor tears shed for his safe return.

“My boy! Oh my boy is back!”

A middle aged woman paced in their direction with her arms wide open. The younger woman reluctantly pulled away from her brother to make room for what Daemon guessed was the boys mother, she wiped her tears with her hands as she sniffled.

“I apologise, it is just we have not seen our brother in such a long time, I am (y/n)”

“Daemon and no need to apologise, you should be proud of your brother, he fought fiercely and was one of the most trusted soldiers in battle”

“You should thank me for that, Nathaniel always liked to wrestle with me in the mud when we were children”

“Come on, don’t stand there they are probably hungry, come inside”

Daemon was stunned by their hospitality, they had no idea who he was, no clue of his heritage yet they welcomed him with open arms to feed him just because he appeared with their family member.

It was a small cottage, mostly made out of wood and stone, it was warm from the fireplace that burned under a big pot, the smell of home made food hit Daemons nostrils like a brick, his stomach rumbled with anticipation and his tastebuds begged for something warm.

“Does your friend like goat?”

“Goat is excellent my lady”

“Oh bless you young man, I have not being called lady since I gave birth to Nathaniel”

“Mother please!”

“What? This tall handsome boy was at the same size of a little kitten when he was born, he gave us all a fright we thought he would not survive”

Daemon chuckled at the comment that made Nathaniel hide his face behind his hands. Nathaniel was the only man that followed Daemon at his crazy plan of invasion, now he had to withstand his mother ruffling his hair and pinching his cheeks with endearment.

To be honest Daemon did not care much about that, his eyes were set on (y/n), the girl had the same energy of her brother, noble, altruistic, bright, as supper was served he got caught in a trance that was her voice, he could listen to her speak about anything all day, the affability that radiated off from her was addictive to say the least, if you combine it with the earthy scent he was in true bliss, surrounded by people that took care of one another and honoured the word “family”.

Daemon had stayed with them until the moon turned, he would go around the farm with (y/n), not allowing her to lift a finger or doing her daily chores, to see a Targaryen prince milk a cow and gather chicken eggs was truly a surreal sight for anyone, Daemon felt at peace with being just Daemon, he was not “the rogue prince” nor “prince Daemon Targaryen”, his name sounded the best when it rolled off (y/n)s tongue.

“I will marry you one day”

“Will you take me back to the castle? be a princess of the seven kingdoms while I twirl in pretty dresses?”

“No, I will give you your own castle, you will be the queen of my heart and the ruler of our family”

“What are you waiting for then?”

-

Daemon flew to Kings landing at dawn, to bend the knee in front of the iron throne and beg for his marriage to be annulled, to humbly request to wed another now that he proved himself worthy and honoured the kingdom.

“Annulment? I thought you were a bit loose in the brain but this is a new type of madness even for you brother”

“I won the war against the crab eaters, I led the army to victory”

“And you assumed that it would make you invisible, you swore to be with this woman until the end of your days”

“Your grace, I am sure you are aware that the wedlock I am under was not a burden I chose to carry”

“Burden!? The lady Rhea is a respectable lady, you stand there and ask me to make Runestone our new enemy so you can marry a common beggar?”

“She is not a beggar”

“She is nobody!”

“She loves me! I do not know why but she chose to love me”

-

“My starlight, you are ravishing”

“Daemon, we are to attend a funeral”

“You will be ravishing at the funeral”

“I hope so, this is the only dress that fits me”

(Y/n) had given birth to 5 children already, to squeeze out children one right after the other meant her body had changed since they got married, her breasts had swell from breastfeeding their youngest son and the weight had managed to get comfortable.

Daemon could not keep his hands off of her, he found her new curves to be tempting, she looked like a well taken care of woman, the woman that blessed him with creating a home and children inside her, the goddess that put herself in danger to expand their family.

After moving to Pentos to elope against the kings wishes Daemon wanted to fulfil his promises, give her a castle and make her his queen.

(Y/n) was a marvellous wife and confidant, Daemon had spend all his life fighting for a place at the table, to be seen as worthy as his noble brother, the heavy weight of competition was suddenly lifted by (Y/n)s magical touch that showed him what it truly is to be accepted, to be nurtured and cared for with compassion and respect, Daemon would often watch her sleep while she rested her head on her pillow and just admire her, how could she be so… good to him?

“You are the most wonderful woman I have ever laid eyes upon”

“Seems like you are the only one that thinks like that, they are all eye balling us like we are their lunch”

With that mention from how beloved wife Daemons focus shifted from the diamonds (y/n) held for hues to observe what was behind him, to his displease he found the people from his bloodline gawking at his family, to the point that the eldest son Maelor of theirs clung a little closer to his mother, grasping her clothing with his fist for comfort and protection.

“Listen to me, stay close to your mother and myself and everything will be fine, understood?”

“Yes father”

The second born child, their first daughter Melody responded, Melody had a soft spot for her father, ever since she could walk she would wobble behind her father and wait for him to pick her up and spin her around. Daemon pinched her cheek before he took his wives free hand -since she was holding their youngest babe Aelor with their other arm- to lead his family to the place the ceremony would be held.

Daemon had promised his wife that he would not leave her alone, he guarded his partner and offsprings during the whole ceremony, choosing to stay far back than get close to his immediate bloodline members Viserys and Rhaenyra, he was content with sitting down on the bench and play with their fourth child their daughter Hera on his lap.

“I know my sweetling, I know”

(Y/n) cooed at the babe that was starting to get fussy, (y/n) had done her best to keep the babe comfortable however no one can predict when the babe wants to feed, only thing we know it’s babes are hungry often and they do not like to wait.

“What is the problem starlight?”

“I must feed him”

“Go on then”

“Daemon we are not home, if I start feeding him-“

“You will be a mother that is taking care of her babe and does not scoff in the natural way by having other woman nurse your kin”

“We know that stands true, they do not”

Daemon puffed out a breath before he reluctantly let his daughter off his lap to stand up and take (y/n)s cape to create a little curtain around his wife, as a way to assist her with putting her mind at ease so she can breastfeed that youngest member of their family.

“What is happening?”

“She must be feeding the babe”

Ottos face squirmed up in disgust at the sight of the babes own mother pulling her breast out for the babe to suckle on and in such a prestige setting, Alicent on the other side was certainly intrigued to say the least, not for the feeding part but to how attentive the rogue prince was to her, the man that had a heart made of steel was now pulling silly faces to make his children laugh and shielded his lover from invasive looks of disapproval like the one her father had.

“I think he is finished”

“Let me do the rest starlight”

Daemon had done this multiple times, their children had been very close in age so sometimes Daemon had to do the digestion process while the older one was in their “I only want my mother” time of age, so in order to relieve his wife he gracefully took his youngest son in his arm to pat his back so he can digest his food.

“Father, why is mom a starlight?”

“Often times I had to travel at night with Caraxes, the light that came from the stars gave me hope and guided me to safety”

Their daughter was a sucker for fairytales, so to listen to her father talk in such a poetic way for her mother compelled a weak smile dance on her lips, (y/n) reached to tuck a small strand of the toddlers dark hair out of her face until Melody wrapped her arms around her mother to hide her face in her mothers neck.

“What a beautiful scene, you have grown to be a wonderful father”

Viserys interrupted the precious moment by slowly approaching with his cane. Daemon instinctively took a step to stand in front of his wife, his natural need of protecting her kicked in and even though Viserys was his brother he did not take the chance.

“You honour me your grace”

“we are brothers Daemon”

“Mayhaps, long time ago we were”

“Daemon”

“Maelor why don’t you take your mother and siblings to play at the shore? I’ll be with you in a moment”

“Oh yes! Come on mother let’s go”

Maelor was smart but not witted enough to figure out why his father allowed him to lead his mother away from this interaction, the young boy was too excited to notice the stern look (y/n) shot to her husband as she took the small babe from Daemon to give him and his brother some privacy.

“I know we had our differences howbeit I come with good intentions”

“I am sure you do, until Otto whispers accusations against me”

“We mustn’t hold grudges, I am here to offer a sumbol of peace”

“Which is?”

“Your children are unfortunately considered illegitimate, I own up to the mistake of not treating your lovely wife as equal, after the funeral I shall announce to the court that we affirm your wife and children as such, let us become a family again”

“My children are my family, my wife is my family”

“And your brother is willing to acknowledge that”

Daemon let his gaze fall upon his children, (y/n) was chasing around their children while they laughed along, all of them adored their mother, every time he would watch their faces light up and (y/n) smile it was equivalent to floating around the clouds, that was the reason he took them to Pentos, to ensure they were safely tucked away in their own world, no harm, no ill minded people, just pure and utter bliss.

“I would deeply appreciate that, I however have nothing to offer you in return of that favour”

-

Daemon was rudely awakened by his wife bursting in their room, clearly disheveled she stared at him as tried to catch her breath, (y/n) would often wake up in the middle of the night to make sure her children are alright, this time it seemed she was right about it.

Daemon was on his feet in no time, silently he followed her and she was making it difficult since (y/n) was basically running.

“Maelor!”

“I am alright mother, I cannot say the same for Aemond”

“What happened?”

“I wanted to go for a ride and I found them fighting so I called for help, I did not get involved I promise I just called the guards”

“I am not mad at you sweetling you did the right thing”

“Right thing? He ran away when my son was been beaten”

“He called for help”

“It was too late for that”

“What would you rather have him do? Fight off all the others and risk his own life”

“So it is better than my son is the only one that got injured?”

“I did not say that-“

“Stop! All of you. We are family”

“It was my sons that were forced to defend themselves your grace”

The young woman spoke up as she stood in front of the two brunette boys and one of them was also stained by blood. If she had to be honest she did not care about what happened, only that her children had no part in any of it.

“He called us bastards”

The young one explained, the room grew cold all of a sudden, like someone had stolen the light out of everything. Daemon stepped a tad bit closer to his wife, the word scratching his heart enough to irritate him, it stand true but unfortunately his children could technically be called such ridiculous words.

“Where did you hear such lies Aemond?”

“It was Aegon”

All eyes were on the boy with the king white hair who was somehow dumbfounded by the accusations. The king, even though he was frail and had almost withered away approached his son, Daemon could detect some type of fury on his weak and dissolved face.

“Now you tell me… boy, why did you say that? Aegon!”

“We know father, everyone knows. I do not understand why is there a problem with it, prince Daemons children are also bastards”

“Careful now young man, we do not want you to miss an eye as well or a tongue”

Daemon was taken back by his wife threading a prince, he also noticed how her hand clenched Maelor shirt compelling him to get closer to her. (Y/n) was his wife, his love, his body, mind and soul belonged to her, she was aware of how devoted Daemon was to their family, still to hear such vile insult made her blood boil.

“My father offered for your children to become legitimate, so for the time being and the past few years they were considered b-“

The only thing that interrupted the prince was Daemons footsteps that approached Aegon, he did not touch him, he just stood right in front of him and eyeballed him right into his soul. Aegon by just pure instructed had shrunk as much as he could and avoided making eye contact with Daemon.

“Finish your sentence, go on”

“Daemon I can handle my son”

“I disagree brother you can allow your children to dig their claws into one another until the only thing that is left of them is bones but I refuse to let this idiot speak like that about MY children. With that, we shall bid you goodnight, we will be departing at dawn and hopefully we will not hear from you ever again

Requests are open!

#daemon x you #daemon x y/n #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd fic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd season 1

[orobaxis]

i love your ominis fic! it’s so well written. could i request him and #10 from the prompt list?

(so for once in my life) let me get what i want

ominis gaunt x reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis tells you his plans for the future and adopts a new name

prompt: "please. please just listen to me."

word count: 2253

warnings: hogwarts legacy spoilers! some violence; gaunt family pureblood purity nonsense; seventh-year ominis and gang (sebastian redemption arc); timeskip & a surprise cameo/twist? :O ominis is a very powerful wizard because of his heritage, and he's even more powerful than his family because of his kind heart; occamies can speak parseltongue (source: trust me bro)

when the impossible happened, when it turned out that you also reciprocated his feelings, ominis' world changed.

he always tells you, "we took the long way round, but we're here now." and every time, you would reach for his hand and squeeze. he can almost sense your smile every time.

ominis had been thinking about it. you were it for him, and he hopes you feel the same way. he was tired.

of hiding you.

so ominis made up his mind.

once you both graduate from hogwarts, he would not return to his family. the gaunts aren't his family--not anymore. it was his friends, and you.

-

"what are you doing outside, sulking here?"

he turns to the sound of your voice and the door opening, and you sit beside him. slowly, you reach for his hand and guide a steaming cup of tea. he mutters a 'thank you' and takes a sip.

you tell him that feldcroft looks nice at this time of the year, so not unlike the time it was ravaged by poachers and ranrok's loyalists. there is laughter in the air, children running around and playing in the snow. carolers singing every night by a bonfire. you always go to the carolers and hand out hot cocoa.

ominis and sebastian would usually sit there, outside the sallow house, listening as you and anne, now good as new, play with the kids, picking snowball fights with the enchanted snowman. you two make them help set up a giant christmas tree for the hamlet. he would fret whenever you climb up the ladder to place ornaments, insisting that using your wand "isn't as accurate". that entire day, while you and anne were busy decorating the tree, ominis would be standing guard by the ladder, making sure that not even the wind can shake it.

he likes it here. it's quiet, and while he enjoys holidays in the castle, being with his family here in feldcroft feels better.

"the kids are scaring the scarecrow again," he tells you with a smile, and you both turn in the direction of the children and the squawking of the poor scarecrow.

anne bursts out the door, smiling when she sees you two. "there you are!" she exclaims. a folded woolen blanket is hanging on her arms, "i knew ominis would be here sulking--"

"i am not sulking--"

"so i got you a blanket to keep you warm. i know y/n wouldn't leave you out here in the cold."

you gratefully take the blanket from her, thanking her before splaying it on yourself and ominis. "have you finished packing?"

"me?" anne points at herself, "of course not! sebastian and i don't pack until you start nagging for us to leave."

"because we need to return to hogwarts by tonight," you remind her.

anne rolls her eyes, waving you off, "we can pack everything quickly, don't worry. you and ominis enjoy the sun while it lasts."

you hum, and watch her enter the house again. turning to ominis, you watch him sip his tea quietly, "you ready?"

"hmm?" he asks behind the rim of the teacup.

"our final term," you sigh, "and then we're done with school."

ominis starts thinking about it again.

"i have to tell you something."

you don't say anything, but wait until he starts talking.

"i've decided...i've decided not to return to my family after graduation."

shocked, you open your mouth to say something, anything. but you know that he has made up his mind about this. "but, they'll start looking for you."

"i know." ominis is quiet for a bit, hands warming up around his cup, as he tries to collect his thoughts. some time ago, he knew that he eventually would have to go into hiding once he decided to leave the family. he just...well, he just needed to tell you about it. "we'll have to lay low for a while."

"we?" you aren't sure if you heard him right. did 'we' mean you and him? you, him, and the twins?

"my family will be looking for us. and if you're with me, i can protect you better."

so that's what he had been sulking about, you think to yourself. ever since you arrived to feldcroft to spend the holidays with the twins, you would always find ominis deep in thought. is this what he was thinking about?

it feels like a death sentence, ominis thinks. you deserve better than going into hiding so soon after graduating. you should be going out there, exploring the world, not being afraid that a family of dark wizards would find you. but he knows his family will not let him go, not with you. and if something happened to you, well, he would never forgive himself.

"i'm sorry," he blurts out. he is frustrated about this, and he knows you must be too. he is sure that you're already processing the fact that you'll be losing months, years of your life trying to hide from his family. he wouldn't blame you if you start despising him now. he would too. "i didn't mean for this to happen."

"wait...ominis," you gently take the cup from his hands to settle it on the ground, "it's alright."

ominis shakes his head, now becoming upset, "no, you don't understand...i don't understand. why aren't you mad at me? you should be!

because of who i am...the darkness in my family is never going to go away, and it will infect you...i'm sorry." ominis hears the crack in his voice and the tears started to flow.

immediately, you kneel into the dirt, cupping his face, "hey, ominis...please. please, just listen to me." you brush your thumbs against his cheeks, wiping his tears, tracing the beauty marks that you love.

"i'll be fine as long as i'm with you," you whisper to him. "i don't care if we have to hide, as long as i have you...everything will be alright."

he sniffs, raising his hands to cup yours resting on his cheeks. he turns and brushes his lips on your palm, "i love you," he tells you, "i would do anything for you, and i will keep you safe, i promise."

"i know, love," you tell him, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, not from anguish, but from joy. of course you would follow him anywhere. "i love you too, and i will also keep you safe."

ominis says nothing, but nods before leaning forward, resting his head against yours.

let me keep her, please. he thinks. for once in my life, let me get what i want. lord knows it would be the first time.

-

he should have known that these rogue poachers were also looking for him. they accidentally came across the group, as you four were flying back to the castle. they intercepted you, and you had to land somewhere.

"i don't know if you 'eard," a poacher yells as he and his colleagues start to descend to your location, "but the gaunt family is looking to pay a hefty sum if we could get their son and his friends back to them!"

"all the galleons we could ever want!" exclaimed another, "we'll never have to poach for animals in this blasted forest again."

"ominis," you whisper, reaching frantically for him as he takes a step forward, wand out. sebastian stands beside him. you see anne pull her wand out and you do so anxiously, staring at the poachers and trying to keep yourself calm.

it is quiet for a bit, and then the curses and hexes start flying. incantations hurriedly leaving everyone's lips as you tried your best to see where the enemies are in the thick of the night. you worry for your friends, jumping by anne's side, pulling on her jumper as you conjure a shield for you both. as ominis and sebastian try to hold off a horde of poachers in front of you, you don't notice one disillusioned themselves until there was the tip of a wand pressing against your neck and a ragged, "STOP!" is shouted behind you, almost deafening your ear.

ominis turns to the side at the sound, wand still raised and his brows furrowed when he realizes that one slipped past him.

"let go of her."

"we don't want trouble with you, i know you gaunts are a powerful lot," the poacher who has wrapped his arm around your neck tightens it a little. "i just want missy here, and you to come with us back to mummy and daddy."

he raises his wand, ready to strike the man who has you captive.

"ominis..." you start, before the tip of the wand dig deeper into your neck and you shut yourself up with a whimper. ominis cringes at the sound.

"please--" ominis bares his teeth as he lowers his wand

"drop your wand and walk towards me."

"please just listen to me," ominis implores, but the man didn't want to listen to him.

"any sudden movements and she's gone," he pulls on your hair, "your parents want you alive, but didn't say that for her."

now seething in anger, ominis nods before dropping his wand. this appeases the poacher, who tells him to start walking towards him. then, he hears voices.

voices he haven't heard in some time. are you alright? do you need help?

masking it as a pained hiss, ominis answers, yes, get rid of the poacher. he threatens to hurt the beasts in this forest.

i am not from this forest. nor from this land. these poachers took me.

you're close now, ominis can hear your muffled whimpers. help me with the poacher, and we will help you return home.

in a flash, you are released from the poacher's grip and ominis takes a few strides before reaching you. he holds you close as you gasp at the sight before you: a large, winged serpentine beast grabs the poacher by the shoulders and they disappear.

"what--"

"that was an occamy!" anne shouts, running to your side to embrace you and ominis, "thank goodness you're alright!" sebastian runs to you all, sighing in relief when he sees no one is hurt.

you turn to ominis, still in shock. "you saved me..."

"i promised i would," he tells you.

"but..." you turn back to the sky, where you see the occamy flying closer and closer. ominis says nothing, but waves his wand to materialize his suitcase and open it. the occamy flies into it and it shuts. "the occamy..."

"professor howin or ellie peck will make sure that she gets back to her home."

you nod at him, a smile slowly forming on your face before you rush in and plant a small kiss on his cheek. flushing, you start to walk back to where you dropped your broom, ignoring the teasing grin on anne's face.

"well, that was--"

"if you say one more thing sebastian, i will have the occamy choke you."

-

years later, anne and sebastian sallow find themselves in front of a tiny cottage by the sea. it has become tradition to spend the holidays here.

here to deliver the news, sebastian, now an auror, is excited to let them know. the gaunts have stopped looking for them.

you greet them at the door, throwing your arms around anne is joy. "happy christmas!" you tell her, "i'm so glad you made it here safely!"

"the only danger we encountered on the way here were the drunkards outside of feldcroft!" anne exclaims with a laugh, moving to take off her coat and hang it as you hug sebastian.

"any news?" you whisper against his ear.

sebastian pulls away from you with a grin, "yes. where is he?"

"in the studio," you nod to the direction of the room, "now off with your coat and let's move to the studio."

-

he has learned to enjoy it. at first, he huffed when you told him you bought him the wheel, but eventually, he realized how much he loved it. it was calming, and it certainly helped that you also appreciate the finished products he would gift you.

when sebastian tells him that the gaunts finally stopped searching, ominis couldn't really say he's relieved. he was relieved years ago, when he stopped feeling the dark shadow engulfing his being. despite that, he enjoys knowing that they didn't have to hide anymore.

he feels his wife's comforting hand on his shoulder, and he teasingly reaches for it with his own.

"ah, ominis, you're getting me dirty!" you complain, but he only laughs. "i have to go check on the food, and then we can all have dinner."

"how can you even move around with your condition?" sebastian asks, and you huff, rolling your eyes at him before cradling the swollen bump in front of you. "i don't think my child is as big-headed as you seb, that's why i'm still able to move around."

anne and ominis laugh at that. "i'll help," ominis announces, as he gets up from his potter wheel and makes his way towards the kitchen (where you proudly display the many potteries your husband made you).

the twins follow shortly, chortling at how domesticated you both look, especially after adopting a new name. this new name ominis is proud of, because not like the one he is born with, becoming a "potter" is his choice, and with you, he's all the better for it.

-

i was listening to please please please let me get what i want (idk if thats obvious)

i hope you all like this one ;A;

i popped out so many ominis fics today my thesis is jealous aaaaaaaa

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #wizarding world #sebastian sallow #anne sallow #harry potter #queue

[morallyinept]

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

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

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

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

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

Ezra’s accent is Southern.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Source of Article

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

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

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

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

“How poetic.”

“The starter, if you don't mind.”

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

“This is so exciting.”

“You friendly with these fellas?”

“You got a field kit?”

“It seems I must.”

“Keep it creamy and it’ll be fine.”

See? Short and snappy sentences.

What’s in a name?

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

“Nice to meet you, Damon. I'm Ezra.”

“Where’re you from, Damon?” 

“Alright, Damon.” 

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

“So how did you get here, Damon?”

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

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

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

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

“It's a shame, Damon.” 

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet you, Cee.”

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

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

Double Entendres.

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

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

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

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

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

Some more subtle examples are:

“Hello, sweetheart.” 

“Hold it like you love it.”

“Slippery son of a bitch.” 

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

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

Only moments before he was smiling and jovial. 👇🏻

Cussing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He likes to fill the silence. 

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

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

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

Ezra's redemption shifts his language too.

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

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

“That's The Fringe, girl.”

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

“You’re a killer. 

“I am. But are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You are not understanding me.”

 “I say the terms have changed.”

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

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

Actions speak louder than words.

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

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

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

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

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

A man of few words in the end.

Ezra’s last words are for Cee:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ezra Thesaurus:

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

🖤

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

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

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

"We Indians know about silence. We are not afraid of it. In fact, for us, silence is more powerful than words. Our elders were trained in the ways of silence, and they handed over this knowledge to us. Observe, listen, and then act, they would tell us. That was the manner of living.

With you, it is just the opposite. You learn by talking. You reward the children that talk the most at school. In your parties, you all try to talk at the same time. In your work, you are always having meetings in which everybody interrupts everybody and all talk five, ten or a hundred times. And you call that ‘solving a problem’. When you are in a room and there is silence, you get nervous. You must fill the space with sounds. So you talk compulsorily, even before you know what you are going to say.

White people love to discuss. They don’t even allow the other person to finish a sentence. They always interrupt. For us Indians, this looks like bad manners or even stupidity. If you start talking, I’m not going to interrupt you. I will listen. Maybe I’ll stop listening if I don’t like what you are saying, but I won’t interrupt you.

When you finish speaking, I’ll make up my mind about what you said, but I will not tell you I don’t agree unless it is important. Otherwise, I’ll just keep quiet and I’ll go away. You have told me all I need to know. There is no more to be said. But this is not enough for the majority of white people.

People should regard their words as seeds. They should sow them, and then allow them to grow in silence. Our elders taught us that the earth is always talking to us, but we should keep silent in order to hear her.

There are many voices besides ours. Many voices…”

-Ella Deloria

(Native American Heritage)

#Ella Deloria #Native American Heritage #Native American #communication #listening

[unseemingowl]

Saga Anderson, and Nordic rep in Alan Wake 2

Early on in Saga Anderson’s exploration in Alan Wake 2, she runs into Ilmo Koskela. Fiercely proud of his Finnish heritage, Ilmo gregariously makes note of Saga’s Nordic sounding name and the familiar design of her knitted sweater. Perhaps a fellow Finn?

Alas no, Saga’s mom is Swedish she informs him. Immediately Ilmo’s face falls. I’m not sure if it’s actually just the animated character defaulting to his resting face, but either way the timing is too perfect. Cue uproarious laughter from me. People in the Nordics are on friendly terms of course, but we gotta have the tiniest bit of… scornfor each other. All in good fun of course. It’s traditional.

Now, I’m Danish, not Finnish, but still, I feel right at home in the towns of Bright Falls and Watery in Alan Wake 2. All of the little nods to Nordic culture and mindset feel so wonderfully familiar to me. The melancholia, the irreverent sense of humor, the affection for the Finnish and Swedish quirks of the characters. The game feels all the stronger in tone and narrative for Remedy embracing the Finnish roots of the studio.

Which is exactly why it sucks that I almost immediately saw the charm of those narrative decisions weaponised against Saga.

I first watched the scene between Ilmo and Saga on a lets play when I was trying to figure out if I should finally dip my toes into survival horror and buy the game. Delighted by the writing I took a look into the comments to see if people were vibing as hard with it as I was. They were. But I also saw a comment that made me frown.

Paraphrasing, it basically went, come on, like hell a guy like Ilmo would make the assumption that a black woman is Finnish. There are a multitude of reasons why I think that person was wrong, mainly that Nordic people love it when we run into each other in other countries, but it also just made me sad.

Saga being black does not negate her Swedish heritage. Formally, she is American, sure (I assume, not sure how that works in the US), but she’s raised by her single Swedish mom, of course she’s going to identify heavily with that part of her herself. It’s a profound and essential part of who she is.

But hey, I’m a white potato Dane, so I’m not gonna argue that I know much about the experience of being biracial. I’m gonna stick to what I know, which is that Saga is a very moving and beautiful example of something that I’m actually not used to seeing much of - a story about connecting with your Nordic heritage and roots. And it’s part of why I love her so much.

When Nordic people show up in big, international productions, it’s usually as Vikings, and sure, it’s fun to see our wild ancestors, but contemporary questions of Nordic identity and heritage is not something I often see explored. Not even in our own productions.

So much of Saga’s story is about family. Fighting for her current one, Logan and Casey (and sure, David too, lol), and rediscovering her first one. Tor and Odin.

Her discovering her ties to Tor and Odin is profoundly moving and made me teary-eyed several times over. And sure, a lot of those ties are fantastical in nature, but they still feel very much grounded - and what makes us Nordic if not the ties to our myths and legends that Tor and Odin have made themselves the living avatars of.

While Saga’s mom, Freya, had good reasons for leaving the Anderson seer magics behind, seeing them as part of what made her family fucked up, she also cut Saga off from the fullness of her capabilities. It is only through Saga reforming her family, healing its scars and fully embracing the Anderson heritage that she becomes as powerful a parautilitarian as she is at the end of the game. That’s beautiful.

And in fact I think Saga being black only deepens the richness of those themes rather than negate them or make them irrelevant. Because yes, Saga’s story would have been moving if she was a white character too, but I am very well aware that a lot of biracial people of Nordic ancestry can feel alienated from that part of themselves. Not least because questions of who gets to claim a Nordic heritage can get pretty ugly around here. There are most definitely people who share the racist mindset of that commentator. It adds an extra dimension. Which is why seeing Tor and Odin’s eagerness to claim Saga as part of the Anderson heritage is all the more moving. Through her magics, she’s just so obviously an Anderson, and they’re so damn proud to call her theirs and fight alongside her. Because they all got that wild Viking blood in them. They’re part of her and she’s part of them.

Roger Ebert, the film critic once called movies empathy machines. I think games, when they’re at their best, can be an even more intense variation of that. Which is exactly why it baffles me that some people can play through Alan Wake 2 and still think Saga is a stunt-woke character rather than someone fully and beautifully integrated in the narrative. A narrative which, at its most basic level – in my opinion – is about the mystical bonds we form with each other and the rest of the world through art and love and blood and family and heritage. All the great horror doesn’t negate that either, it amplifies it. Kind of like that clicker.

#I really didn’t mean to write like… a fucking essay #so this is probably gonna flop #but I love Saga so much #and as a Scandinavian woman #I feel so seen by her #and I hate that people are being so vile about her character #Saga Anderson #Alan Wake 2

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

“Yes I’m alright – ahh. What is it – mmmph – you two need.” Alamandine wraps his legs around Elias’ head and catches himself trying to pull him deeper. What the fuck is he thinking? He can’t split his mind on both this enchantment and dealing with Elias. It doesn’t help that the part of him that wants to shove Elias off is losing to the part of him that wants to be split open on his cock.

“We’ve been searching for Royal Bodyguard, Elias Redwood. He disappeared a few hours ago, but was seen last heading over to your quarters looking rather... sickly…” As the tall one spoke, Alamandine can feel his his control over the spell slipping as Elias purrs against his opening, sending vibrations over his sensitive insides. He snaps himself out of it fast enough to keep the enchantment up.

“No idea where he is. I haven’t seen him all day.” Please for by the loving divines leave! His eyes were begging to the guards, but they didn’t – couldn’t – notice.

“Are you sure? The last person to speak with him sent him here. He just up and left his post. It ‘s very strange.”

“Is it?” Alamandine asks.

“What?” The shorter guard sounds bewildered by his response. Alamandine, to be honest, didn’t hear half of what they were saying as Elias seemed to have gotten tired of gently licking against his cervical opening and decided to start thrusting his tongue against it. His body twitched violently with every pound against him with their tongue.

“- oh divines – I haven’t seen him. fuuuck. Leave, I’m in the middle something!” His voice peaked as Elias’ tongue finally thrusted inside. He kept up the enchantment, but at what cost? His body trembled like a madman as Elias happily stuck his tongue further inside. He could fucking see his tongue pressing outwards against his skin.

#monster breeding #monster x reader #monsterfucker #terato #Biscuit Ao3 snippets #ovipositor #eggpreg #Eggpregtober 2023

[ashdreams2023]

Hi, I love your posts a lot and i was wondering if i could make a request. I checked your master list just incase someone asked it already and i didn’t see it.

Could you do a loki x reader, where loki is nervous to reveal that he is a frost giant to the reader and when he does reveal it the reader finds him like cute and pretty. Just lots of fluff and cuteness :)

(You can do a gn or fem reader i don’t really mind).

Have a good day/night! :)

My good looking boy

Loki x fem reader

Loki walks back and forth in his bedroom, he has been thinking about this sensitive for ages now.

He looked down at his blue frosted hands, his veins looked so pale and greenish, disgusting in his own eye.

You wouldn’t want to look at this everyday, right?

But he couldn’t hide this forever and he promise to share every detail about himself with you, regardless of how mad and twisted it may come off as.

You deserved to know and whatever happened afterwards…well he didn’t want to think of anymore outcomes because all of them ended the same in his head.

Alone.

"Loki? Am I early? I saw the door open and let myself in" you walked in and phased at the darkness of the room "Why are the lights off?"

Loki swallowed and leaned his back on the wall "Darling before you turn the light on I want you to know something"

You tilted your head confused "Is something wrong? You sound stressed about something"

"No i…actually there has been a secret that I feel you should know before we go any further in our relationship, it is a sensitive topic that no one here knows about but Thor"

"Oh my god are you sick?! What’s happening" you walked towards his figure who’s standing in the dark but he lifted his hand up stopping you from getting closer.

"No, listen to me you need to understand how important this is to me"

"Ok…tell me then"

"I am, Loki oddinson but I am also Loki laufeyson and with that comes a great burden, and I don’t to cheat my way to your heart, I want you to see the other side of me, my ugliest secret"

You blinked as the lights turned on and your eyes landed on him, his skin blue as the sky, his eyes red as Ruby’s and you could see the Smokey cold air surrounding the area he stood.

"I know it looks and I know you deserve much more better than this but I just couldn’t hide this from you anymore and you have all the right to leave me if you wish" he let out a breath and waited for your response, he expected the worst of the worst.

"Does it hurt you? I mean not being in your natural form all the time?"

Loki opened his mouth then closed it "No, not really, the only downfall is getting bothered by the sun easily"

"That’s it?"

"Yes?"

You sighed then approached him slowly, you looked up at his face, his features looked different but not unfamiliar, he was still your Loki, your same old god of mischief.

"Will I get hurt if I touch you?"

"You’ll probably get frost bites dove"

That didn’t seem to stop you from hugging his middle though, he was cold but nothing you couldn’t handle "I don’t care what form you have, I’ve seen you literally turn into ancient creatures, you think I’ll be phased by blue skin and red eyes? Don’t be ridiculous now! I would never leave you!"

"But…but I’m ugly"

You pulled away and crossed your arms "You’re still my hood looking boy, whatever you look like because at the end of the day I love you more than you could ever imagine and I’m happy you’re telling such an important detail about your life, it’s your heritage and not something to feel ashamed about"

Your words stuck him like an arrow in his heart, he felt choked but held himself together "Are you sure, you still want to stay with me"

"One hundred million percent, I don’t care if you look like a lollipop because jokes on you my standards now are YOU"

"….don’t let stark hear you he will be disappointed" he snorted.

You smiled shaking your head "you so nervous, honey you can trust I’ll love you regardless and no matter what, I promise so stop sulking in the corner and come spend some time with me pretty thing"

"Oh you and your flattery" he rolled his eyes walk up to you, the skin color coming back to his face the look you knew first came back into view.

"Smoothies?" You asked.

"Deal" he grinned at you.

#loki laufeyson x male reader #imagine #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #fanfic #mcu loki #loki/y/n #headcanon #loki layfeyson x you #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki fluff #loki friggachild #loki friggason

[hunnidmilly]

soap |r.r|

(a/n): ill be honest, i never intended to write anything on this blog. as a college student with a job, a bitch be tired asf. but, writing is my happiness. so is delusion ;). complete inspiration comes from @itjazzbicch and their “Cheiftess” series.

enjoy.

*credit to owner. @romanreigns*

Parings: Dom!Roman Reigns x Black!Female Interviewer

Warnings: enemies to lovers????maybe still enemies. Smut. Lots of Smut. Swearing. Don’t interact if you’re under 18. ion like prison.

*NOT EDITED. SPELLING ERRORS AND MISUSE OF PRESENT/PAST TENSE*

—

*takes place in 2021, feud between Roman Reigns vs Kevin Owens.*

It was Friday; Another boring ass Friday. The only difference was that he was here. And today, Jesus was he mad. But that’s just him nowadays anyway. Maybe it was due to the fact of Kevin Owens calling him out repeatedly. If there was one thing Roman Reigns refused to tolerate, it was disrespect. Disrespect to him meant disrespect to his family, his bloodline. Everyone in the arena already knew what he was capable of when he felt his heritage was disrespected. And best believe nobody wanted to engage with those consequences.

Over the last few months, since Roman’s return, he’s had a complete fucking identity change. He came back with a badass attitude, ready to take on anyone who was a threat to him and his family. His ego boost was on 100, with no sight of it coming back down to earth. But between you and your late-night thoughts? His persona, the “Tribal Chief,” had you imaging shit you didn’t even know could be possible. You knew that man could turn and twist you in ways that could be so pleasurable you could forget your name by only thinking about it.

As a backstage interviewer covering for Renee, while she enjoyed the beauty of her pregnancy with her husband, Jon, and you were temporary for now. Still, rumors swirled backstage on whether you’d stay. Stephanie and the other backstage crew mentioned more than once before how they loved how you can get into the superstars' minds during their interview. You gave a talk, unlike other interviewers—who were playing around the bush and being corny. You asked questions that could make them shiver or test their confidence. Or both.

You were on your way to your interview point, to interview Roman. Which you already knew was going to be dreadful. With how he treated Kayla during her interview, you knew he already had multiple insults ready for your questions. Little did he know you had something for his ass had he decided to pull it.

“You’re late.” He growls, readjusting his championship, Paul and Jey behind him

“I’m right on time. I said at 8:30, and it’s currently 8:30.” You smartly answer, taking your mic from one of the production members

“You’re supposed to be here when I’m here. I don’t give a damn about what time it is.” He snarls in your direction, “You have a once in a lifetime opportunity, don’t blow it.”

“I’ll assure you I won’t, Tribal Chief.” You give him a challenging smile

You clear your throat and smooth out the wrinkles in your skirt under his intense gaze at you before looking at the camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am currently here right now with our Smackdown WWE Champi—”

You were cut off as Roman placed his hand over the mic stopping the sound, “No, no, no, baby girl. If you want to introduce me, you’re going to do it right. Paul.” He calls for as he stepped aside for the short stubby man to speak

You roll your eyes as you lean your mic over to Paul—who held a grin on his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, myself, and your lovely interviewer y/n are currently grateful to be in the presence of Head of the table, Smackdown WWE Champion, and ‘your’ Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns.” Paul giddily recites into the mic

“Okay, so Roman, last week you unleashed a brutal attack on Kevin Owens. You believe that you have to make him fear you, but are you starting to think his words are getting into your head?”

Roman lets out a chuckle before turning to Paul and Jey, “You see what I mean now? We give people like her chances in a million, and they blow it on stupid questions. Kevin Owens is irrelevant, just like you’re about to be. Find a better question. Next.”

You kiss your teeth before, letting out an aggravated sigh. With Roman’s new ego boost, you and practically everyone else in the arena wanted to sucker punch him in his face. And you planned to do so on your last day here.

“Do you feel as though, by using Jey as a pawn, you’re allowing yourself to get too comfortable? By using Jey as a backup, you make yourself an easy target to attack. Maybe other superstars think It’ll be easy to use him to make you riled up?” You question with a slight smirk

“Another dumb question. Ever since I took Jey under my wing, he’s been the main event three times in a row. I love my cousin. I’m a provider. I get riled up when I sense disrespect. Disrespect to me is disrespect to my family, my bloodline. Everything my family worked for will only be recognized with respect and decency, not in a silly conversation or this interview. If anybody would like to test that theory of me as a target, they can try; they won’t get too far.” He responds in a healthy, confident tone

“Jey, would you agree? Those people who disrespect your family will be dealt with? Perhaps in the same fashion, he’s dealt with you?”

Strikeout.

You knew that was the easiest way to get to Roman; Through Jey’s head. He also made his blood boil by mentioning the gruesome beating Roman gave to Jey in their matches.

Roman stated multiple times that the beatings Jey endured were well deserved in all aspects. He also hated when Jey answered any questions about it. He knew that by Jey telling his story of their bond, it would be dangerous to take it and misuse the information, making Roman vulnerable.

Roman gave Jey a side glare—silently telling him to choose his words carefully—before turning to Paul with an impatient expression.

“No...you know….” Jey stammers in nervousness, “It takes a lot to understand the pressure my cousin has on his back. He’s a provider to our family. He does what he has to do to take care of the people who matter most to him. People like Kevin Owens, Drew Mcintyre...they threatened that position he has at the table—”

“Do you agree? Roman feels threatened by Kevin Owens and WWE Universal Champion Drew Mcintyre?”

You could see Jey start to shift, meaning he was immensely trying to pick his words before saying anything that could cause Roman’s anger to be retaliated. Again.

“That’s enough for this interview. The Tribal Chief is needed elsewhere.” Paul inserts before moving his hand back and forth over his throat—signaling the production team to cut the cameras

You pop your lips before looking up at Roman’s frustrated brown filled eyes. You notice how his expression softens for almost a second the longer you look at him, “You have some strong confidence, I see. That attitude can get you in some trouble, babygirl.”

“My attitude is wonderful. I’m doing my job, just like you’re doing yours, Roman. The only thing is that I’m not a little bitch, with the urge to belittle everyone because I’m insecure about my potential and qualities.”

Roman gave you a sly smirk that almost makes you want to kick him in his face, “Insecure?” He chuckles devilishly, “That mouth of yours is dangerous. You should close it before I show you how to use it properly.”

He whispers the last part, leaning down to your ear, so Jey and Paul are out of shot, leaving your cheeks flush from embarrassment. Your shift on your feet, shaking your head in amazement.

You were sick of his shit.

You stuck your tongue in the side of your cheek and turned on your heel to walk over to the monitors. You continue watching the rest of the show, occasionally engaging with other superstars who walked by. Your mind continued to lose focus as you thought back to your interview with Roman.

You thought about his body language against you. He consistently sized up and was rigid towards everyone he talked to backstage as if with one wrong move, he’d be ready to bodyslam anybody. But around you, he wasn’t as tense. He was in his natural element; himself. You could see small smirks appearing on his face suggesting he was enjoying getting under your skin.

Roman ended up winning his match against Kevin through Jey handcuffing Kevin to the steel cage. You crack your neck and relax your shoulders. Roman could win a match without Jey or Paul by his side. Of course, that was just his character now. Still, something about seeing how much his dominance shows through his performance and his interactions with everyone else was secretly intriguing to you, how he ditched his vest and began to wrestle shirtless.

He should've been doing this shit when he got out of The Shield with Jon and Colby.

After Smackdown ended, everyone started to clean up. The long drive to the next city was crucial. You’d be driving all night long practically, inside of a small rental car. You could already feel the back cramps, the charlie horses, and the arm strains. You wanted to get your body at least some kind of relaxation before you began the midnight journey, so you head straight to the locker room showers for a hot shower to calm your nerves.

On the way towards the locker rooms, you heard yelling. You turn your head for your eyes to come in direct contact with Roman’s brown ones, completely tensed and filled with rage. You could feel the tension sweating off his muscular body throughout the atmosphere. He was yelling at Jey for interrupting his match when he had it under control. Jey being his current lapdog, he had no choice but to listen to the 6’3 ‘Tribal Chief’.

You swallow harshly under his intense gaze and continue your path to the showers with your luggage in your hand.

You were met with complete silence—thank god.—when you enter the showers. You lock the door behind you and turn the knob to a blazing hot setting. What? Hot showers are good, but blazing hot showers? Even better. Just the feel of your skin under the water steaming off you made your body instantly settle.

You quickly undress from head to toe, cracking your neck to the side. Before you could lift your feet to walk into the shower, you felt a large hand on your lower back shoving you inside, causing you to let out a screech.

The person roughly turns your body to face them, and you come face to face with none other than the Samoan. Nude as the day he was born, with his cock standing at attention against his muscled stomach.

“Ah!” You squeak under his large hand, covering your mouth, with the under holding the arch of your back close to his hard-built and sweaty frame.

“You’ve enjoyed this, haven't you. Were you running around all damn day provoking me? Getting in Jeys head, asking bullshit questions, smart ass remarks, and this tight fucking dress squeezing your body in all the right places? Do you enjoy playing games with me? Why would you play games with me? With your Chief?” He growled close to your face; the showers were now steaming around both your naked bodies.

“Do you enjoy being a little bitch boy? Fucking thinking everyone falls at your beck and call to please you?” His hand on your mouth was lowering as you struggled to get out of his hold on you.

“I don’t think, babygirl. Everyone falls because of who the hell I am! I am the Tribal Chief. I am your Tribal Chief. I am the face of this company, holding it on my back every day. You have no clue what that will ever feel like because you’re too busy running that pretty little smart-ass mouth of yours. Maybe it’s time for me to give you some discipline? For you to acknowledge me?” He pants in a cautious tone

You stop struggling for a moment, letting him pull you closer. You lean up closer to his lips, a mere centimeters away from your lips touching, “Like hell would I ever acknowledge you as anything other than a whiny fucking brat.” You sultrily respond

He lets out a humorless chuckle before responding, “It’s your punishment, babygirl.” With that simple response, he smacks his lips onto yours with force ending any further communication. You kiss him back with just as much roughness.

Your hand slides up to tangle themselves into his long dark black hair, pulling softly. You moan softly as Roman bit down on your lip, gaining entry to your mouth, both your tongues fighting for control.

The control you desperately desired to have.

He let you win for a moment to lower his hands under your ass to lift you around his waist. He takes a handful of your ass, pressing your body into the wall.

“Fuck!” You whine out as he takes a large hand to deliver a smack to your ass.

“You will acknowledge me. Do you understand me? You will fucking respect your Tribal Chiff, or I’m going to make you respect me. Am I clear?” He moans in your ear as your lips latch onto his neck, leaving love bites.

You were so caught up in the clouds of your head, with the thought of him fucking you that you didn’t even think twice about what he said, “Am. I. Clear?” He reiterates each word with a smack to your ass

“You’re such a jackass!” You mewl loudly, feeling him rub his long thick cock between your wet folds; lifting your legs to wrap around his muscular torso

“What was that?”

“I said you’re such a—Fuck, Roman!” You scream as the feeling of him stretching out your pussy to accommodate his cock overtook you to places you haven’t visited in a long time. You were anything but a virgin. But working at WWE had its downsides to finding good dick. Deciding to focus on your career, you decide to pause on sex for a while

Roman gave you a second to get used to the feeling of you being so painfully stretched out around his cock. “You wanna finish that sentence, babygirl?”

You could barely pay attention with his cock slamming in and out of you, already fucking at a furious and rough pace so quickly. Breathing in harshly as he pulls out to split you open on his cock again.

“Don’t stop! Roman, please don’t stop!” You moan, gripping onto his stiff shoulders

“Fuck! Look at you moaning my name like the slut you are. What happened to all that shit you were saying a moment ago?” Roman pants deeply in your ear

“I—Ah!” You squeal as Romans hands grip your thighs, bouncing you up and down his thick cock

“Shit, where am I, baby? Do you feel me in those guts? Deep inside that pretty little pussy? It’s my pussy now. The Tribal Chiefs pussy.” He deeply chuckles into your ear, his cock rubbing over your g-spot at every thrust, letting silent screams come out your mouth “All that bratty ass attitude...talking to me like you’re above me. Giving me nothing but fucking sass. The whole time you’re nothing but a slut for my cock, aren’t you? Letting me fuck you in the showers? You’re gonna give me this pussy anytime I fucking want it.”

You let out a loud salacious whine as Roman slowly pulls out. He sets you down on your feet, flipping your body around letting your hard nipples collide with the cold and wet glass wall. He uses his foot to spread your legs apart. Roman slides a hand into your hair, yanking while simultaneously sliding his cock back into you.

“Fuck! You’re so fuck–“ You swallow a silent gasp as you felt him bite down on your shoulder. “You’re so fucking aggravating!”

“I'm aggravating, but who's taking this dick right now? Who’s dripping more than a faucet?” His confidence booms into your ear in a grunt

“Good dick doesn’t stop you from being an asshole.”

“But it makes you satisfied, doesn’t it?” He responds breathlessly before speeding up, cutting off your next reply

You place both your hands on the glass attempting to throw your ass back on him.If he thought he was controlling the situation, you were definity about to show him otherwise, by making him cum first. As breathless pant’s begin to leave his mouth, you feel him lean forward pressing his front against your back. You work hard at the thought of not cumming. Roman’s left hand comes down to rub your clit at a fast pace making that thought…just a thought. You bite down on your lip until the blood drains from it to stop yourself from relishing in the euphoric bliss you knew Roman was about to grant you.

“I can feel you clenching around me. Look at you. Fighting the urge to cum right now. Come on, babygirl. I know you’re good for it, let go. Acknowledge me as your chief. Let me see how fucked out you turn for me.” His voice sends shocks through your spine that leads to your core.

You gasp as your leg turns inwards, you throw your head back mewling to the ceiling for mercy as you finally let your orgasm crest. Not too far behind you; Roman allows his orgasm to follow through deep into your pussy. Primal roar’s coming deep from his chest bounce off the walls.

If anyone else was showering, they're certainly gone now.

With Roman holding your body in a death grip tight to his chest, you allow yourself to take a moment to let the following events settle in your mind. Having sex with Roman wasn’t the problem; it was the what if’s that clouded your already fucked out brain. Sex didn’t change how you felt about him. He was still an entitled brat with no sympathy for anyone. And he was definitely the last person you’d fall in love with.

“I think you should get going. I’m sure your entourage is going to come looking for you soon.” You choke out, attempting to break from his hold.

“They’re fine wherever they're at. They don’t do anything unless I give them the ok for it.” He sighs into your neck leaving kisses behind

Before falling too deep into his trap, you muster up enough strength to remove his arms from your body, “Okay, stop it.”

“Oh c'mon. Are you seriously about to ruin an amazing time here?” He snaps leaning onto the shower wall

“Did you think fucking me was going to make us best friends forever?” You question turning off the shower

“I see it didn’t work too well. You’re still the same old Y/N. Don’t act like this wasn’t the best thing to disturb your night.” He says returning back into his asshole self

“Oh no, trust me. That was amazing. Maybe you can get permission from your Daddy again to come and play again.” You laugh grabbing your body towel to dry yourself off

“Oh we’ll have to see about that. The next time you’re in need of me to make you forget your own name, just call me. I’ll always come running, baby.”

You drop your towel as you bend over with hysteric laughs coming out your mouth, “Oh fucking please. Me? Beg you? I wouldn’t hold my breath on that.”

“We’ll see. You know where to find me.”

#roman reigns imagine #roman empire #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns smut #wwe #wwe one shot #wwe smut #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns head cannon #jey uso #royal rumble #kevin owens #jey uso smut #jey uso imagine #paul heyman

[vaspider]

just a heads up that that post abt ppl reconnecting is by a like. meeeega z*onist. i usually am like eh ppl dont need to check usernames for everyone they reblog but for that one since its like. relatatef to an extent to the post i wanted to let you know for you and the people who follow u! i hope u are having whatever the best day for ur circumstances is

You're not Jewish, by your own admission. I went to make sure, before I started talking. You have some Jewish heritage, and you might look at converting, but you're not Jewish, so let's start there. And I am going to be as patient as I possibly can under the circumstances.

You have essentially just walked into the living room of a family that you're not a part of and said, "that thing that was just said about connecting with this family that I'm not a part of? You should not listen to it because it came from a term that those of us outside this family have rendered meaningless by overuse and abuse. You should not interact with that person because I am telling you they're a Bad one of y'all, because I've determined this word is Bad, and everyone has beaten it into the ground."

How do you think that would go, if you walked into my living room and pointed at someone there, as a complete and total stranger, and said, 'you should take my value statement about one of the people in your extended family'? Do you think it would go well, whether or not I agreed with that family member, that you've interjected yourself into intrafamily discussions, especially intrafamily discussions about our family's emotional survival and connection?

Because that's what this is, to be clear. Those people? They are my family. You just came in off the street and said, "Take my word on your family. They're bad. You shouldn't interact with them."

What's more, one of the two people you're pointing at, the only two people who spoke on that post, is someone who was present, and indeed the sole official witness, at a moment in my life which rates in terms of joy and personal meaning right up there with my wedding and the moment the midwife placed my daughter, naked and screaming, on my belly. You just came in to my living room and said, "The person who witnessed your mikveh immersion seven years ago? Bad. Take it from me, person who has never spoken to you before."

Do you also walk into drag shows, point at the person on the stage, and yell, "That's a groomer!"? Because that's basically what y'all sound like when you do this: you're coming in from the outside, wielding a word you've effectively rendered meaningless against people who belong here.

I'm real fucking tired of -- literally every time I interact with any post about Jewishness at all -- someone lunging in to tell me that There Be Bad Jews, or demanding that, because I am interacting with members of my family, I answer a bunch of fucking "when did you stop beating your wife" questions.

That was literally just in the last 24h. One post about how Judaism survives because we reconnect with each other, one post about how American institutions like Chabad are being labeled 'Israeli' as a means of smearing them. Literally dealing with living as a fucking Jew in the diaspora is now simply Not Allowed To Be Spoken Of, apparently, unless I strictly validate that everyone in the thread is not a Bad Bad Zionist, which of course applies to every Jew who says something we don't like, regardless of their repeatedly-stated values or self-identification.

It's almost like the end point of all of that is Jews simply not talking about being Jewish anywhere that they might be seen by someone who doesn't like that. If we can only speak about being Jewish if our Judaism meets the strict, ever-changing ethical purity standards of a bunch of Puritan-descended American leftists, then we can't speak about our lives at all, can we?

Funny, that.

Anyway, you have self-declared Zionists in your last 30 reblogs, so like, if you want to spend time endlessly policing someone's blog, make it your own.

Nobody ever send me asks like this ever again. This is the last one I'll even vaguely humor.

#reblogs are off #behave

[reallyromealone]

Xiao was in awe as his mate held their tiny pup, wide eyes and hair like his own but with his mates large fox ears and all in all he was perfect.

"Hello little one"

"Our precious Tighnari..."

Xiao never expected to find a mate and have a pup when he visited Sumeru but god it was the best choice he ever made. He visited to see a friend who came by his in once and found the most beautiful Omega ever and seeing (name) hold their perfect little pup who was just... God he would do anything for his sweet little babe.

(Name) went with Xiao to Liyue, the couple going back to Sumeru every few months to see (name)s family and so their pup knew of his heritage.

"His ears are so big..."

"Judging by my own, they will stay that big" (name) said teasingly as little Tighnari fed contently, making little gurgles and sounds as he did so "he's going to do great things" Xiao said with certainty as the tiny fox pup pulled away and stared at his dad curiously "hello little one, I'm your dad..." And gently took his pup into his arms, little Tighnari wearing tiny robes "rest love, I will handle our pup"

"Love you..."

I love you too"

Xiao wandered around the inn with his pup cuddled into the crook of his arm and made tiny little sounds as his father pretended to make conversation with him "really now? How interesting"

When it came time for his next feeding (name) was already up, the family snuggling in the nest and scenting the tiny pup who kicked happily at his parents giving him all this attention "wait till he meets his uncle..." (Name) said jokingly and Xiao looked honestly excited to introduce their pup to Zhongli.

"He's gonna love him"

#genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x male reader #xiao x reader #tighnari x male reader #tighnari x reader #omega male reader #omegaverse

[starogeorgina]

𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Warnings: Violence

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x oc

1.15

When you enter the dimly lit throne room, you see your mother sitting on the throne. It’s not until you get closer to her that you realize what she’s holding onto so tightly—a toy that was one of Lucery's favorites, which he gave to Gaemon to play with when he was older.

“Mother?”

Meeting your gaze, she stands tall; her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. She places the toys on the throne, then twists the rings in her fingers. “I am the queen of the seven kingdoms,” she says to herself more than you. “I suppose that will be the last time I ever sit upon this throne, as you are the new princess of Dragonstone.”

“And Jacaerys, its prince.”

Your mother's gaze is full of adoration as she leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It belongs to both of you, sweet girl. Not only is Jacaerys the realm's future king, but you're its queen.”

“Not for some time,” you squeeze her hand. “We have much to learn from you and Daemon. You have a long reign ahead of my queen.”

“I’m Vaoreznuni,” she whispers. “I should never have allowed you to be married to Aegon.”

“Don’t—”

“We know what the gods hold in store for us in the future; I need to say this in case I don’t get the chance to.”

Your lower lip trembles at the thought of losing her.

“Once upon a time, me and Alicent were good friends, and I was foolish to think a marriage between our children would help mend the bridges and solidify an alliance between two halves of the same family. But if I had known how cruelly they would have treated you, I would never have allowed it.”

“Aegon is your half brother; you had no reason to suspect he would have turned into the person he is.”

“It was foolish for me to think Alicent wouldn’t pour honey into my siblings' ears. It should have always been Jacaerys.” In the moonlight, her fallen tears glisten. “I ask for your forgiveness, daughter, for subjecting me to years of torment at the hands of the greens.”

“No, I will not give you forgiveness, mother, because you do require it. None of the things that were done to me were in your hands; the only people who need to pay are the usurper and the dowager queen.”

“And pay they shall, sweet girl.”

—

“Soon as the war is over, we can bring our children home.” Jacaerys fingers tremble as he braids your hair in preparation for battle. One of your ladies could have done it but insisted. It had taken him a couple of attempts to make sure your hair was tight enough that it wouldn’t fall out, but he had now gotten the hang of it. Nervously, he says, “Perhaps our daughters will let me braid their hair.”

It hurts to be away from your sweet babies.

“We will see them soon,” you reassure him. “The green army thinks of me as nothing other than a silly girl; they will fall right into our trap.”

Jace presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder and says, “They couldn’t be more wrong. One day they will sing songs of your beauty and bravery.”

You tilt your head to meet his gaze and smile. “Careful husband, any more complaints, and we may end up having a sixth child instead of defeating our enemies.”

“Daemon will be our last baby for some time; I will not allow you to become sick again by falling pregnant again too soon.”

You toy with the ring on your fingers. Your new quarters had no trace of Targaryen or Velaryon heritage yet, and no evidence of your five children. “I wonder how big he has grown. I’ve written to Clara to ask how she and the children are, but I’ve not heard back yet.”

“She will have her hands full running around after our brood.”

Usually, you’d sing in high valyrian to your newborns, and it left a void knowing that you were missing out on such precious moments. Daemon wouldn’t even recognise the sound of your voice when you returned to Winterfell.

Jace finishes off the braid and steps back.

Seeing Jacaerys dressed for battle made your heart flutter. He looks so handsome—a warrior, a dragon rider, a true Targaryen prince. You’re so caught up in staring into his dark eyes that it takes you a moment to hear the commotion going on outside the bedchamber.

He offers you his hand and says, “We should go.”

—

Soaring above the green’s army base, Viserion screeches loudly, alerting them to the immediate danger of a dragon. You watch as the men scurry to grab hold of weapons as Viserion lowers to the ground, not too far from where the camp is based.

It doesn’t take long for Ser Criston to come galloping out of the tree line on the back of his horse, both wearing armor covered by green fabric with a golden three-headed dragon sigil.

Disgusting.

Ten knights follow closely behind, but you suspect they are deliberately staying out of your line of sight.

“Lyarra.”

“Criston.”

Viserion roars loudly, causing some of the knights to hesitantly raise their swords. The bite of steel is sharp against your arm, and a trickle of blood spills from where the sword has nipped your skin. “Why my arm and not my throat, kingmaker?”

Criston narrows his eyes. “The king has ordered for you to be kept alive and your face to remain unmarked.”

“Hmm.”

“You were a fool to come alone.”

In the blink of an eye, the smell of smoke fills the air, and the ground vibrates as a large part of the Green’s Army retreats on horseback. Criston lowers his swords and spins around, watching the men he was leading abandon him. Among the smoke and ash, Vermax appears, his olive scales and pale orange wing membranes darkened with soot.

“I’m no fool, Ser Criston, and not alone.” The two dragons roar and breathe fire at the same time, burning the tents and supplies of the green army. “I once said if you ever touched me again, I’d feed you to Viserion.”

Criston turns and gives you a murderous gaze.

“But I’ve since changed my mind. I wouldn’t feed something so poisonous to my beloved dragon.”

You back away as a shadow begins to overtake the spot where you just stood as the ill-tempered dragon looms closer. Jacaerys holds his head high. “Dracarys, Vermax.”

The kingmaker is engulfed in flames.

Screams fill the air of men trying to flee and put as much distance between themselves and the dragons as possible.

Viserion lowers himself so you can mount him, and when he stands tall again, you are able to fully view Jacaerys. He had been struck with three arrows; his armor had protected him from two, but one of them had struck him in the thigh.

He attempts to soothe your fear. “I am fine, dear wife; now let’s go join our mother in taking the king's landing back.”

Prince Daemon and your mother had flown over the capital and were circling above Aegon’s high hill. Syrax would only land when it was safe to do so. Your grandsire’s fleet would be arriving at the east end of Blackwater Bay. While the dragon twins held fort at Dragonstone, where your youngest siblings remain, Lad Baela would keep watch of the island on Moondancer, while Lady Rhaena would run the council inside.

Vermax and Viserion take to the sky, breathing fire as they fly in the direction of the red keep.

Sorry — Vaoreznuni

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon/you #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #jace velaryon fanfic #jace velaryon fanfiction #jace velaryon x you #violent delights #jacaerys velaryon #Jacaerys Velaryon x oc #Jacaerys Velaryon x fem oc #Jacaerys Velaryon/oc #jace velaryon #Jace Velaryon x oc

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down: the director's cut, or rather, fun facts about this story now that it's over

luca's last name in my fic is davies, and formally davies-bernardi. bernardi in italian means 'strong as a bear' which, was truly a perfect coincidence that i originally thought it sounded good hyphenated with davies. it felt like the perfect little nugget to drop in here.

this one kind of took on a life of its own. I thought maybe a headcanon or a few chapters, then 46.5k words later... before writing a fic, i always like to map out where i'm going, because it helps me zero in on what story i want to tell. as someone (and who hasn't, truly) who has plenty of abandoned fics, i like to get clear on what story it is i want to tell before beginning to write so that i know it's a fic worth writing for me. no, i don't think finishing a fic should be a marker of success, but where i'm at right now, it feels like the best way for me to see if i have a story to tell or not.

speaking of stories to tell, the reason i wanted to have our main character divorced was because i wanted to try something different. i wondered how i could differentiate this mc (while keeping the reader neutral so you could picture yourselves in it if you wanted to) from others that i have written / will write in the future. the divorce and growing apart is actually kind of inspired by my previous upstairs neighbor who i met a year after his divorce. i wanted to imagine what the inner world of someone who had experienced a divorce that wasn't messy, but its relationship had just run its course and i the end, left two people who weren't sure who they were and how to talk to each other anymore would be like.

music and playlisting really helps me envision and feel into the world that I’m building. I ask myself questions like: what does their love sound like? what does this relationship shound like? how do i want the world i'm building feel, and how do i convey that in sound? and then of course, what songs could underscore certain moments of this chapter? listening to the playlist i create as i go really helps me get into character aka enter the world of the story when i'm sitting down the write.

so many of my fics and interactions are based on my own real life experiences, which is why they often feel so human and so real. i weave in little details like conversations i've had, a person i reminded of. i often write dialogue after i've imagined the scene in my head down to the cadence of how characters speak to one another to make sure it feels grounded.

speaking of, we've got to talk about the food in this fic, something that you all complimented me on at the very beginning! it was important for me to have the food feel deeply personal to reader, and be an expression of her identity through the years. yes, i wrote it with an mc with asian heritage in mind. however, i wanted to make space, again, for you to picture yourself in this fic, which is why mc's ex and family were written with japanese heritage.

a lot of the dishes were inspired by dishes i've had that were similar to what i think her culinary pov would be, and a lot of it is the way that i cook as well. i am not a chef by any means, but i am AM a home cook who occasionally does pop ups who very recently discovered my own culinary pov. food for me is something that not only helps me express myself, but has helped me connect to parts of my own identity. in so many ways, as someone who describes themselves as a cultural melting pot, food helps me feel closer to myself; it helps me find and define, and express who i am.

the culture of food and the role it plays in allowing us to connect was really important for me to weave into this story as well.

for the mikkelson twins, i pictured timothee and pauline chalamet as jesper and mathilde.

for the kimuras: rina sawayama would play astrid, darren barnet would play joe, and gia kim would play lina.

let's talk about luca's character development: so many things were so will poulter-coded/borrowed for will poulter, which felt right to do considering he wove his own life into the luca's tattoos. examples? the nike book, the kendrick lamar on the playlist, how much internal work the man has done on himself.

in the end, I initially had mc have a way bigger freak out than she did -- that it would be her final: holy shit am i ready to be loved moment, but as i wrote it, it ended up being luca who brought up the main conflict. it just ended up going in a different direction and didn't feel right to go with my original plan, because she felt so in their relationship already that i pivoted.

i watched a lot of travel and lifestyle copenhagen vlogs because i'm obsessed with youtube.

after season 2 of the bear, i wanted to explore what positive relationships with mothers could look like in these characters. that's why mothers (and single mothers) are the superheroes of this fic.

i knew i wanted this fic to be about these things: second love, loss, trusting the beginning that comes after the end, inspiration, following your heart, and mothers. these are the guiding principles that i used when writing, knowing that these were the pillars i wanted this story to be about.

looking forward: i am working on two oneshots that will live in this world, one about marcus visiting again -- an eat, pray, love for him of sorts -- that's about mothers and loss and life. the other one is a fun, sexy little smutshot that will hardlaunch their (she and luca's) restaurant so keep an eye out for those. truthfully, i've only just started workshopping the marcus one and am prioritizing finishing my carmy fic first.

opening myself up for q&a! feel free to ask any questions about this fic or my writing process in the comments.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down