#Dead father
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canon merthur is so special because they’re ACTUALLY the only one who gets to accompany the other meeting each-other’s deadTM parents.
we saw arthur meeting ygraine only through merlin lens (+ the whole sigil thing????) and the only one who get to see merlin and balinor spend time with each-other is arthur
#oh and the villains lmao because they needed to kill said parents#because theyre dead and they met them in one scene/experience???#plot was horrible though#theyre so gay its kinda funny#dead mom#dead father#when you put them together….#ygraine#balinor#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin bbc#arthur pendragon#merthur#merlin emrys#arthur bbc#merlin x arthur#arthur x merlin#merlin prompt
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my dad dying the day right after april fools is actually so strange because its like the universe pulled the biggest april fools prank ever like yeah its all fun and games today but tommorow's really gonna suck for you 💯
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I'm Sorry.....
There will be no new pictures to see this week. Since my father passed away yesterday, it will be suspended this week. I hope you understand. Thanks
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My boyfriend jokingly doxxed me earlier today and I forgot my dad wasn’t alive :3
#dead dad club#dead father#homosexuality#gay#mlm#not the scam kind#nonbinary#non bianry#non biney#oops all dead dads#I cried for a solid 5 minutes after this#I wish that was a joke#it isn’t
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everytime my life gets slightly better I keep wishing my dad was here to see it.
I keep wishing he didn't pick that first needle to not feel whatever he had at that moment, so I could've stopped him and assure him he would have the family he wanted bcs it wasn't too late
#personal vent#sorry#tw#daddy issues#dead father#girlblogging#personal diary#i really need to talk somewhere srry again#sorry for being depressing#family vent#family problem#child abuse#text post
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Writing this here cause i don't know what I should do... My dad passed away and was found yesterday. I don't know how to process.
How do you grieve a father who distanced himself and refused to get close because they never wanted you and was violent at times? I lived with him for some time but once i moved out he would return calls less and less. He rarely called on his own and only on occasion answered calls. Who said they cared but refused to put in effort? A father whose health has been getting worse and worse but still stayed withdrawn?
And now I'm supposed to make arrangements and figure out how to grieve while vultures try to go on the attack. How to grieve when people who never care about either of us now wanna just come out to get money off his death.
It's like how to grieve the loss of a parent who never truly wanted to be yours.
All while being in shock. Part of me feels pain for losing him but part of me feels relief that he isn't in pain anymore because every second of everyday was misery for him for years now.and another part of me feels anger at the people who wanna try to make money off his death. I'm trying to figure out how to go forward but haven't had a minute to breath without someone making his death a spectacle.
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I took my father's jean jacket (plain) and covered it in buttons and patches (homosexuality)
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This was the first true holiday that has happened since my dad passed away, it felt weird that he wasn’t there talking to my mom, getting annoyed at my sister’s oven or cutting the turkey.
when he was alive having that many people around stressed him out so he spent a lot of time sitting outside smoking. While we were all inside hanging out and talking. He was out there alone.
What I would give now to be able to go outside with him and have him tell me stories or answer questions I have.
I love you dad so much and I’m so sorry that I let you sit out there alone every year.
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miss you
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dad issues
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(I think they were all fundamentally affected by what they saw and just collectively decided not to share the upsetting details)
#dungeon meshi#aj art#chilchuck#chilchuck backstory stuff#sorta#comic#tw alchoholism#tw death#tw parent death#dont generally tag for death stuff but in this he straight up dies on screen so I thought I should#Uhh I think they all had extremely grim visions bc I think that’s sort of the nature of ghost attacks#I mean Laios’ was basically just him being like “I should’ve died no one would care if i died”#I think Marcille’s would be. Horrifying. Given all her baggage around death.#Tho iirc this would be before Falin’s backfired resurrection#But anyway the mentioning of his father got me thinking#Since at least judging by Laios’ vision#They focus on people who’s death you have baggage around#Especially since Falin wasn’t ever like. Dead dead.#And Chilchuck does mention his father multiple times#Specifically he mentions his death and how he died#Like it seems like that specifically is a notable memory for him#Like you never see him like “my dad taught me to do this”#It seems like he remembers his dad *for* his death#So I anyway I made an extremely grim comic about it#beabell
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king and harbinger, old and young
#hi sorry i havent been animating much cuz. i didnt fucking want to#i have my major work animations to work on so its kind of. drained the fun out of it#but this doctor who audio killed me the fuck dead so uh here#spoop combining his interests again…. who woulda thunk….#lmk#lego monkie kid#lego monkie kid fanart#monkie kid#monkie kid fanart#lmk fanart#lmk mk#lmk sun wukong#sun wukong#qi xiaotian#qi xiaotian fanart#honestly this is less of a father/son thing and more just. kinship. if that makes sense#they are alike and wukong takes a sort of refuge in that he is not the only one out there#idk how to explain it ahsbdbjdf#also in my head this is set before mk is left at pigsy’s doorstep. idk man idk
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- A ROTTEN TREE BEARS ROTTEN FRUIT | I.
god loves you, but not enough to save you
cw: kinktober prompt (whipping/flogging), blasphemy, inaccurate religious practices, lyrical sadomasochism (more so sadism on his part), erotic religious imagery and references, this dynamic is so weird, implied (as in in my mind) bi reader and charlie, plus sized reader, reader’s chest referred to as ‘breasts’ & ‘tits’ and their crotch referred to as a ‘hole’ but they do have a seperate one other than their ass, pregnancy fantasy, vomit mention, don’t know shit about the show fuck you ryan, blood kink, interchangeable ‘charlie’ & ‘mayhew’ based on pov
do not translate, repost, or feed this work to ai |
kinktober 2024
“Shh, let me clean you up, Father.” You smile, so softly, he could snap your neck if he squeezed hard enough.
You run your nails over his back, trimmed to an appropriate length. Father Mayhew sighs the way Adam might’ve when Eve’s walls clenched around him, God never being more important than this bliss. You’re so devoted, so devout in your worship but he’s beginning to think that you cry out to a different God than he does. If you even believe in an invisible one anymore when you have a savior in the flesh.
“Thank you, dear. That’d be great.” The pulls are pulled from his lips like rotund wooden beads, as if he has no choice but to endure the stretch as they exit his body one by one.
You shuffle off the bed and kneel behind him, stroking your fingertips down his back like he’s a marble statue you just can’t help but reach out and touch. The opposite of Delilah cutting Samson’s hair, you only want to imbue him with your pure love from the inside out. Spooning milk and honey over the tender welts.
His eyelids crinkle as you kiss the nape of his neck, blotting your lips with rouge. There is no inch of his back left without, and when you arrive at the bigger gashes you lavish the cut with your tongue. Drinking his life away and cleaning him up like a good little whore, servicing the man becomes the only thing of importance to you. You dip the tip of your tongue in the recess of the deeper wounds, and caress his tensing abs from behind when he grits his teeth and traps a curse behind them. You only kitten lick him, but often he wishes you would get real dirty with it, caressing your tongue over his muscles in broad and messy swipes.
His scars from previous lashings glint in the low light of the candles surrounding you. You give them their just desserts of course, grateful pecks of attention and acknowledgement. Soothing his pain, that is the only excuse you have to encroach on the verge of breaking your vows. Father Mayhew gives you a purpose and stops your bleating with a heavy hand if you forget your place. Stern hand to raw and stinging flesh.
Sometimes there is no pillow when you kneel behind him.
The next step is that you turn around and face the wall after picking up the cattail whip off the bed and returning it to its rightful owner. You’ve already discarded your habit, no tunic, coif, or veil left on your person. They’re folded neatly beside you, only your rosary nestled in the embrace of your heaving breasts. Your peaks harden in the stuffy humid air, all the oxygen in the world confined to this small room.
He saddles up behind you, his sweaty chest so close to the flesh and contours of your back. Father Charlie breathes you in, taking whiffs of your debauched scent in between silent prayers. He never allows himself to be as forward as you are, his thread of control over his desire has not snapped yet. There are boundaries he can push, but lines he can never cross.
“Good lamb, God recognizes your penance and forgives your soul.” He whispers, dragging the strips of leather down your back until goosebumps rise to the surface.
When you least expect it, he strikes. You muffle a shout into the wall and Father Charlie’s cock jumps under his towel. Briefly he imagines slamming into your tempting body dry, with no preparation, making you sure you feel as much pain as possible. The way you’d wince with every step around the church, the begging in your puppy dog eyes when you’d take communion. How he could hold it above your head like a bone in the shape of a fractured cross, dangling just out of reach of your gorgeous mouth.
The devil gives him dreams of fucking your throat until you’re vomiting and hoarse.
Every droplet of bed peeking out from the cracks of your skin to say hello nourishes him. He shushes you when you’re unable to hold back your sounds, cooing when he notices you humping the air after the fifteenth hit. You just can’t help yourself, nerdy by nature and nurture.
You start soaking the pillow beneath you, imagining what he must look like. A man and his broad hulking body curling around you as he hurts you. Your hole suddenly feels so empty, you have a night of riding your pillow ahead of you, you just want to be good for him in all the ways you’re supposed to be.
As you let a demon of sex control your body, he spies a flash of a white lacy thong nestled between your plump ass cheeks. He knows that if you had also worn a towel, he would’ve hooked his fingers under the fabric and pulled it off. You don’t get to hide any part of yourself from your Father. And he knows he will have to give himself another lashing for those thoughts alone. Even the secret wedding he plans as he strokes his angry red cock, always edging himself, he’s afraid of what would happen if he lets go. How loud the iron gates would be when they creak open. Like the way he wants to spread your ass open and toy with the hidden puckered hole.
His words are in his actions, reopening your old wounds and bringing the warm leather across your back one last time, he hopes your blood soaks through the material. Staining it, the way you have already stained his heart. Father Charlie grins despite himself when you slump against the wall, sliding his bible-roughened hands over your love handles and sticks his pecs to your shoulders.
“You did lovely, today. The Lord thanks you, and I’m so proud of you, you know that?” His thick fingers brush along the bottoms of your tits, never going higher.
He wants to slap them, wrap the beads of your rosary around them until the flesh bulges, painting your nipples in a mix of both of your blood. Marking your souls irreversibly. Marriage of the spirit, a ritualistic wedding in the eyes of the beholder. You shiver like a mouse in front of a snake, and beads of precum fall from his cockhead.
Did Saint Teresa have these feelings when she had the vision of an angel piercing her heart with their golden spear? Did Saint Sebastian when he was pierced by those arrows under the order of the Emperor? Did David when he wrenched Goliath’s head back by his hair and bested him into humiliation? Did it compare to the covenant he formed with Jonathan?
He kisses your glittering scars in thanks and washes your blood away with his lips and tongue too. But unlike any other day in which you’ve done this, he stands up with a grunt and pulls you up with him. Father Mayhew falls backwards onto his bed and so you follow dutifully, and because the hold he has on your wrist is strong to the point of bruising. You lay your head over his heart and pant into his skin as he teases your plush thigh, tracing crosses into the chubby expanse of skin.
“No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” He cajoles, walking on that burning tightrope with you.
He wonders if your cunt would be just as chubby, if you’ve ever thought about humping the organ bench, riper than the forbidden fruit, and he mentally catalogs an extra long session of repentance. To be fresh and clean again. Father Charlie will go through his sermons with his lighthearted tone and charming personality, desperate to hide that he’s thinking of plunging his tongue in your asshole. Sipping and slurping up your musk like it’s the only holy water he needs to live. Or entice you into eating his ass, you would love being able to serve him properly, no doubt.
To nourish you with his fragments, his vertebrae and viscera. The body and the blood. The teeth and the testicles.
He’ll sit in quiet contemplation in front of the pulpit, pouring wine over your body in his mind. Following the red trail with his tongue as it trickles down the valley of your chest and dips in and out the folds of your belly. He’ll leisurely open his mouth on a silent moan at the top of your mound, the hairs like yellowing blades of glades against his philtrum, in a perfect paradise there’d be blood there too. His own personal, pervertedly literal, red sea.
You’d look so beautiful, swollen and fat with a child growing in your womb. A shame that can never happen, but a blessing that no heretic of a man could snatch you up and take you away from him. Your flock is here, and the heavy crook of his staff is all you need to guide you back home when you go astray. Trapped in his thighs, molded by his hands, punctured into line with his cock.
#kinktober#kinktober 2024#grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#nicholas chavez x reader#father charlie mayhew x reader#charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew x reader#nicholas alexander chavez smut#nicholas chavez smut#father charlie mayhew smut#grotesquerie x reader#grotesquerie smut#priest kink#⚰️.deaddove#dead dove do not eat#tw flogging#just in case#tw whipping#ryan murphy
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DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir
#neilperryedit#dpsedit#deadpoetssocietyedit#neil perry#dps#dead poets society#tuserkaren#mialook#useraish#dailyflicks#neil perry makes me sob every goddamn time#especially when he says i'm trapped with this laugh but then it fades and his smile drops and your heart just breaks#bc look how excited he was to act in the beginning#he's got a dream and he's so determined to go after it#but the reality of the situation is he's trapped#and then at the end with his i was good i was really good#bc he was ! he puts his whole heart out there#and his father just stomped on it because he doesn't see neil for who he really is and forces him to conform to whatever he wants for neil#and just ahhhhh#i don't know even know how to it put into words#it's the transition from future to present to past#*mine#*mygifs
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Jack and uncle Arthur fishing mission ^_^ one of my fav moments in the game
#my art#rdr2#Arthur giving the slightest indication of what he wouldve been like as a father to Isaac well it makes me fall to my knees in heartbreak#arthur morgan#red dead redemption 2#rdr#jack marston#red dead redemption#digital art#rdr2 fanart
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But I still think of you
#dead boy detectives#my art#charles rowland#song inspo: Radical Face – Ghost Towns#the fact that his parents are still alive and he’s constantly checking up on them mess me up a bit#since the school covered up what happened to him they probably didn’t bother to find out either#in the comic he even said his father would probably be relieved he’s dead#30 years and he's still making sure they're okay. seeing them happy and moving on without him#it's one of the first thing we learn about him in the show
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