#now just know that we are not surviving this season

[coffeegnomee]

Saw a post about trying to understand "new player behavior" from a new viewer standpoint and I thought, let me try and take a stab at explaining it. Anyone who's been around for a while and wants to weigh in, please do.

New player mentality is mostly like running from fights instead of taking them especially if you're good enough or have enough hearts, being absolutely unwilling to die, being unwilling to see if you can survive something you know is a trap, refusing to show up to something because you thought it was suspicious, being paranoid when there is nothing to be paranoid about. Trying to defuse conflict instead of embracing it, not understanding the cycles (even though everyone had their own interpretation of the cycles).

These reflect the unspoken gentlemen's code of honor that exist on the server, though it is notable to note that the main players that care about this are just Mapicc Zam and Clown. Not everyone cares about this, though the older the member, generally the more it is understood and accepted.

But with Mapicc and Zam being consistently two of the only handful of active members at any given time, their opinion will ring loud and with Zam being The most active streamer and the one with The most play time every season, as Zam goes so does the audience go. Creating, admittedly, a feedback loop where we all complain about those dang youngins.

However the mentality is real, and some members, most notably Minute, have genuinely changed from how he was at the start of s5 to who he is now. s5 minute would have NEVER taken a 1v1 he knew he would have lost for the sake of the server.

This risky mentality, story-motivated, picking a side and caring deeply about it, showing up to something you know you have a 30% chance of survival, dying and then retaliating against whoever killed you in that thing you just showed up to (this is the easiest explanation of the cycles), picking a nerf and seeing how it will affect the story, loosing all your hearts willingly, saying yes when someone approaches you for a project and putting your all into supporting this new allyship (despite old teammates or despite old feuds), being loyal to the new teammates because progress forward is better than clinging to the past (betrayal in s1-4 is interesting and can be talked about below), coming up with a plot that will involve the whole server at a risk to yourself, achieving the impossible.

These are all hallmarks of the old members.

Now, there is a layer of nuance here because while all new members fall prey to new member mentality, there have always, always been old members who fall prey to it, no matter how long they've been on lifesteal. The easiest example you'd find looking back at s4 is Pangi and Red running from every single fight even though they had 20 hearts. Red being from s1 and rejoining in s3 and Pangi joining in s2! Hardly new members at the time of infraction.

But that's because, at its core, new member mentality is the fear of death. It's the fear of failure. It's clinging to your hearts for fear of what will happen to you if you loose them.

And what each member needs is time, and experience in difficult situations that challenge their perspective on the server. We call that their Lifesteal Trauma. It's never fun for them and it genuinely challenges everything that they thought they understood about lifesteal. And depending on how it happens it either strengthens their bond to the server and shows them they can withstand anything and everything even abject failure and total betrayal and still be okay, or they take a step back from being as active. It's always different for every player and depends on how they even want to play. I could go through the list of members, but it's primarily and internal belief that they don't articulate and every way of playing the server is okay. And mostly they just need time and a new idea to try.

A final note about betrayals. Lifesteal has always, always been filled with people getting on a team and betraying that team to get the win. So many times a member has been invited to a team and they join and then betray that team. So what do I mean about loyalty to a new team over old teams?

This is something that is growing and changing as the server progresses and isn't as clean cut, also maybe wrong because my memory of everything before s4 is the most shoddy, but in general, those who betrayed a new team had been inactive for a period, were approached by a different new team, and then infiltrated the other new team that was forming,

s1 that was terry being on mapicc's side and then conveniently being in the right place to join the other side and betray them.

I remember nothing from s2 other than MOB and the withers.

s3 that was parrot being added to the resistance group chat while being in a call with decimation and betraying the resistance.

s3 that was leo joining the revive side but being on spoke's side and killing zam and pangi right after the successful getaway.

The betrayals of s4 sparked a new brutality (maybe just because i actually watched the streams and the streams of all those older times are lost) where Spoke did the long con on Parrot before betraying, being loyal to the original wormholers over Parrot.

That was mapicc adding zam to his side of the crown battle against pangi and then betraying him after the fight.

Then there's all the zam betrayals which were ideological differences about the purpose and goals of the teams rather than thought out betrayals that he orchestrated with others. (and in a way his choice of leaving team awesome was an experiment in a what-if that was very enticing)

But the time honored old player mentality towards betrayals is "first come first serve" combined with "old attachments don't matter in the face of new content".

This is why ro betraying the foundation in s5 was a pure act of old player mindset. mapicc is asking? bet.

whereas jumper's betrayal was much closer to spoke's betrayal of parrot: clinging to an original (and secret/non official) team over the new teammates and only after months and months, betraying them.

It's a secret third thing that doesn't fit anywhere into how lifesteal functions and is more a facet of the player themself; are they willing to do that plot.

And yet, because i heaven't yapped enough yet, Jumper's betrayal to me reads far closer to new player mentality because she saved her own skin and her own hearts and never risked anything through her betrayal. she has said multiple times that she likes being on both sides because she never has to worry about dying. If she had gotten caught earlier the worst that would have happened is she lost a single heart because they never knew where her bed was and she could have called minute in as backup in an instant and be protected by the most powerful member under his batman wings. and after she was protected by him at all times.

Whereas Spoke's betrayal of Parrot was The Riskiest thing he could have done. He could have been banned from the server and never completed the impossible task he was trying to do. There was real risk to his own ability to play the game in pulling it off successfully.

[satellite-evans]

farmers market

Pairing: Harry Styles x pregnant!reader

Summary: Harry takes his pregnant girlfriend to the farmers market :)

Word count: 1k+

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Saturday mornings had become your favorite part of the week, especially now that you were six months pregnant. There was something about the air in the fall that made everything feel crisp, fresh, and alive. You breathed it in deeply as you and Harry approached the farmer’s market entrance, the golden sunlight filtering through the trees and creating a beautiful radiance on everything. The sounds of the bustling crowd, the chatter of vendors, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze all added to the charm. For you, this was the perfect way to spend the morning—slowly strolling through the stalls, picking out fresh produce, and taking in the delicious aromas that surrounded you.

Harry, on the other hand, loved watching you. There was a joy in your eyes every time you came across something that caught your attention—whether it was a basket of perfectly ripe peaches or a bouquet of wildflowers. He found himself smiling more, simply watching you enjoy the little things. Though his schedule was often packed with work, he didn’t mind these outings. In fact, he insisted on them.

"I can't believe you actually woke up early for this," you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder as the two of you made your way through the market entrance.

Harry adjusted his sunglasses, his hand still wrapped around yours. He squeezed it gently before responding, "Hey, I have my priorities straight. You, our little one, and fresh strawberries."

You grinned at him. "I knew you were just here for the food."

"And the company," he corrected, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. He lingered for a moment, his fingers brushing your skin. "You sure you're up for this? We could’ve just ordered everything online."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "Harry, I’m pregnant, not fragile. I’m not going to break. Besides, I want to pick things out myself. You know how picky I get when it comes to cravings."

He chuckled, his hand gently resting on the small of your back, guiding you as you walked. "Yeah, I remember. The great pickle debacle of last month."

You groaned, covering your face with your hand in embarrassment. "Don’t remind me. I still feel bad for that poor store clerk."

"He survived," Harry teased, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face as you reached the first stall. "And now we have a whole shelf stocked with pickles at home. We're prepared for the next craving, love."

As you approached the stall, a burst of color filled your vision. Strawberries. Plump and bright, their sweetness practically radiated from the basket. You couldn’t help yourself. A soft gasp left your lips as you reached for a carton. "Oh my gosh, look at these strawberries! I need them."

The vendor, an older man with a wide grin and a straw hat, chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Good choice, dear. These are the sweetest berries you’ll find this season, grown just down the road."

Harry smiled at the vendor, then at you. "Perfect. We’ll take a few cartons, please."

The man winked at you as he handed over the strawberries. "Craving strawberries, huh? Must mean you’re having a sweet little one."

You laughed, resting your hand on your bump. "Seems like it."

Harry watched you carefully, his hand brushing yours as you inspected the fruit, a soft chuckle escaping him. "You know, love, if you keep eating them like this, our little one is going to come out looking like a strawberry."

You raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Should be no problem for you, since you only sing about fruit and... other things."

Harry’s face broke into laughter, shaking his head as he squeezed your hand a little tighter. "Alright, fair point. Guess we’re a perfect match then."

As you both moved down the market path, you spotted a stall selling honey, its glass jars glistening in the sunlight. Your eyes lit up, and without missing a beat, you tugged Harry toward it. "Ooh, fresh honey!"

The elderly woman behind the stand greeted you with a warm smile. "Well hello, dear! Looking for something sweet today?"

Harry wrapped his arm around you protectively, as if to shield you from the bustling crowd around you. He glanced down at you, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "She’s been craving everything sweet since she got pregnant," he said, his voice soft, his gaze lingering on you.

The vendor’s smile widened. "Ah, a little one on the way! Congratulations, dear. I’ve got just the thing for you—this wildflower honey. It’s perfect with tea or drizzled over yogurt."

You took one of the jars into your hands, turning it over in your palms as you inspected it. "We’ll take two jars, please," you said with a smile. You could already imagine the honey paired with some of the fruit you had bought.

Harry leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "At this rate, we’ll have an entire pantry of honey, jams, and fruit."

You nudged him with your elbow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Says the guy who could probably live off protein shakes and fruit."

He grinned down at you, leaning his head against yours for a brief moment. "Hey, fruit’s good for you. And clearly, our little one agrees."

As the two of you continued down the market lane, Harry remained ever the protector, placing a hand gently on your lower back whenever the crowd got too dense or people brushed by too closely. He made sure to stay close, watching you like a hawk as you darted from one stall to another, carefully selecting items that would satisfy your cravings. His protective nature seemed to grow stronger with each passing day, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of love in your chest every time he touched you.

You stopped in front of a stall selling freshly baked bread. You picked up a warm loaf, its crust golden and inviting, and breathed in deeply. "Look at this bread, H!" you said, holding it up to him. "It smells amazing."

The baker, a jovial man with flour-dusted hands, beamed at you. "Fresh from the oven this morning, love. It’s a market favorite!"

Harry inhaled the rich aroma of the bread and nodded. "Alright, we’ll take two. One for you, and one for the baby."

You giggled, shaking your head at him. "You’re going to use the baby excuse for everything now, aren’t you?"

He shot you a mischievous grin. "Absolutely."

Next, you came across a stand selling handmade baby clothes. Harry’s eyes softened the moment he saw a tiny knitted sweater. His hand lingered over the soft material before he held it up to you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this. Think our little one would like it?"

An elderly woman behind the stand smiled warmly at the two of you. "Oh, that one’s made from the softest wool, dear. Perfect for a little bundle of joy."

You felt your heart swell in your chest as you looked at Harry. Your voice wavered slightly. "I think they’d look adorable in it."

Harry’s fingers gently traced the top of your arm, sending a warm shiver through you. "We’re really doing this, huh?" His gaze softened as he brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. "Baby, family, all of it."

You smiled, your heart full of emotion. Resting your hand over his, you looked up at him with a soft, affectionate smile. "Yeah, we are."

As the morning wore on, your bags filled with fresh produce, honey, flowers, and baby clothes, Harry remained a constant presence at your side, his protectiveness never wavering. He kissed your forehead whenever you stopped to look at something, always keeping a careful eye on you as the crowds grew thicker.

You were about to make your way to the car when Harry glanced at the overflowing bags in his hands, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Think we went a little overboard?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "No such thing when it comes to fresh fruit."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "You and your fruit obsession. I’m telling you, if this baby’s first word is 'peach,' I’m blaming you."

You shot back with a laugh. "Alright, but if their first word is 'kiwi,' or ‘watermelon’ or ‘cherry’ then I’m blaming you!"

Harry pulled you closer, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Alright, love. Truce. Let's go home and make something delicious with all this."

And as the two of you walked back to the car, the morning sun warm on your skin, you knew that these were the moments that would stay with you forever—simple, quiet, full of love and anticipation.

[fuji09]

Derek Hale isn't as... grown-up as you think.

Part 2 of my "[character] isn't as..." series.

Yes, Derek Hale is an adult. No matter if he is 19, 20, 21, 22, ect... Derek is an adult season 1.

However, just because he is in his early twenties, doesn't make him a grown ass adult (as some like to lovingly call him).

Due to trauma that started when he was 15, Derek does not know how to adult.

At 15 he has to kill the girl he loves, Paige, to end her suffering as she's dying.

Then soon after, Kate Argent manipulates, grooms, uses, abuses, sexually assaults, and rapes Derek, when he is 15/16.

Then Kate burns his home to the ground with his family inside, losing his entire world. Only Laura and Peter (known at the time) survived. Peter was severely burned and catatonic. Cora was assumed dead in the fire but we later find she survived too.

So now Laura and Derek are the only ones left, and they leave their only home to go across the country to run and hide from hunters.

Laura is the alpha with only Derek as pack and they run away and end up hiding in New York for 6 years. Just the two of them for 6 years. We aren't really shown what went on during those 6 year, did they party to forget their troubles? Did they hide themselves away from everybody and became hermits? Did they just start over and live normal human lives?

Derek is constantly running. He can't ever settle, can't have security or feel safe. Always looking over his shoulder, and this starts when he's 15/16.

Now Laura returns to Beacon Hills and leaves Derek behind. She is killed and Derek comes looking for her, all alone. Derek returns to the place where he lost it all to try to find his sister, the only family he had left.

He finds out Laura was killed and ripped in half. That there is now an alpha running wild in Beacon Hills. There's a newly bitten werewolf. There are also hunters. The Argents, who is Kate's family, mock Derek's lack of family left alive. Derek could have easily turned around and left. Go right back to New York and not deal with this mess. But he doesn't leave. He stays.

He tries to help the newly bitten werewolf to the best of his ability. This boy can't even take care of himself but he's still trying to help Scott.

Scott fights him along the way, the alpha keeps attacking, and Derek tries to keep Scott from being killed, found out, or hurt someone.

Derek has no clue what to do. He was never meant to be an alpha. The guy lives in his burnt out husk of house and then lives in an abandoned train station.

He's literally still stuck as that 15 year old kid who lost it all. Derek makes many mistakes, and I think part of it has to do with not knowing how to speak to people. He's very short with everyone, uses facial expressions more than words, and has a hard time understanding others.

He gets frustrated easily and then reacts by getting physical, like shoving Scott in the wall and threatening to kill him if Scott risks everything by playing in the Lacrosse game even though he doesn't have a handle on his shifting and there are hunters everywhere. Turns out to be an empty threat because Scott does play and Derek does not kill him.

Derek still acts like a kid, and I honestly believe what helped him start to grow and actually become an adult was Scott. Derek felt responsible for Scott even though he didn't bite him. Sometimes people become the adult they are supposed to be when they get a pet or have a baby. They get their shit together when someone is dependent on them. Derek took Scott on like a brother.

Their relationship is a lot like brothers. They fight and argue, they protect each other, and they help (begrudgingly) each other. They may threaten to kill each other, but then when someone is actually trying to hurt the other, they protect each other.

Derek starts to grow up when he's around Scott and Stiles. Stiles is kinda like the annoying best friend of his now younger brother, so now he has someone who can dish it and take, but also someone who can help him figure shit out.

Derek doesn't have his shit together, he's a hot mess. He's scared and angry. He definitely has PTSD, it makes sense how he reacts to things. He also deals with severe guilt, anxiety, depression, self harm, and he's basically suicidal.

He does know how to keep his strength in check though. We see Stiles shoved against a wall by several people, Scott, Erica, Theo, and Derek. But Derek is the only one who doesn't shove him too hard. Derek is the only one who doesn't hurt Stiles when he shoved him, and most of the movement we see from Stiles is him jumping from being startled.

He does hit Stiles' head on the steering wheel, which Stiles totally deserved, but it wasn't hard enough to leave a mark or do any damage, it was just enough of a warning to never do that again. He knows how to be more gentle with humans.

Derek is a martyr and I really do believe he's suicidal because he also doesn't care if he dies, even though he partly doesn't want to die. He has zero self worth and has no issue with dying if it helps someone. He literally has to prove his worth to Scott and Stiles that they need him so he is worth saving. He doesn't think he's worth saving unless he's useful to someone and he believes that everyone else thinks that way too.

Derek puts up this rough front to keep people away to protect himself from getting hurt again. He makes himself look unapproachable and mean. But he actually cares a lot. He hides as a defense mechanism.

He was taught pain makes you human and keeps you near your humanity and that it also speeds up the healing process so he ends up hurting several werewolves, Scott, Erica, Isaac, Boyd, and Jackson. Whether it's to help them heal, teach them to hold on to their humanity, or fight even harder, he teaches these things to the other betas.

Derek is so damaged and stuck. He has trust issues. He may be wealthy, but he doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn't spend it for a long time. For two seasons he's squatting, until finally season 3 he gets a loft.

Derek may be an adult, but he definitely wasn't grown up for seasons 1 and 2.

Derek gets along with the teens because he still has the teen mindset. Which causes him to not always make the best choices.

He is still is an easy target to manipulate and try to control. As we see when Peter reveals he's the alpha. In order to keep Peter away from Stiles and not get himself killed, he has to "join" Peter's side. Which by the look on his face the whole time he hates it and doesn't actually agree with Peter, but he pretends for a while. He has to stand by and watch as his uncle assaults Scott again and gives him the memories of the fire. Which side note, I think Peter did that as a jab at Scott for saying maybe the Argents has a good reason to burn the Hales. Doesn't make it right at all, but it makes sense that he would be angry about that comment.

Derek knows he's hot and he uses that to his advantage when needed, but also because he seems to think that's all he's good for when it comes to girls. He's so awkward with women in the first 2 seasons. He seems unable to actually flirt well until season 3.

He works out way more than he should, punishing his body to hurt himself. He lets himself be shot, tazed, shocked, and beaten because he feels that he deserves it. He truly thinks he's a bad person and he's not. He self sabotages at times because he gets too cocky or scared when something is actually going right.

Derek actually tries though. He keeps getting kicked while he's down. He perseveres and he fucks up. And he also learns from those mistakes and tries to be better.

You can find part 1 of my" [character] isn't as..." series here about Stiles.

Hope y'all enjoyed part 2 about Derek and I'll be back with a part 3. Can y'all guess who it will be about?

[sewliia]

Magnus Archives Episode 154 / 200 Analysis

(If this was mentioned by anyone before, I am sorry. I found one tumblr post showing the similarity in John's “Together - one way or another” but nothing more. So if you guys know more sources on this topic please share them with me. I would love to talk about this more.)

(also this is maybe a bit messy but I hope you guys see my vision)

I believe the Ending of the Magnus Archive was already decided in the episode “154 - Bloody Mary” or at least episode 200 is a parallel / continuation of the post statement scene.

I will show 154 in order while adding the matching parts from 200 (the parts from 200 are coloured differently to easily recognize them).

In 154 John learns that they can leave the Institut if they damage their eyes permanently.

After gaining this information he goes to Martin. He is the first to know.

(This one is not hard evidence - just something small I noticed)

(200) Martin is also the first to know what John did (also the only one).

(154) John then proposes to Martin that he wants to leave with him, because he trusts Martin and doesn't want to do it alone. He doesn't even consider the others here. He just wants to be with Martin.

This also plays into Jon's identity crisis in Season 4. Martin was there for him all the time and Jon values Martin's opinion more than the others, cause he loves him, cause he hopes Martin wants the same, cause he wants someone who gives him permission, to tell him what is right.

(200) Here we have it the other way around now. Martin trusted John not to kill Jonah on his own and John finally had the courage to do something on his own.

(154) Martins response is:

He doesn't want to choose for John, since he knows how insecure John is.

(200) John made it Martin's decision. He can’t kill himself at this point and already made his choice.

(154) This scenario is almost the same, just that the roles are partly swapped. In both cases they aren't sure if John will survive this, that it is a risk and a wish to escape.

Ending with the famous “one way or another” spoken again by John.

(154) After John proposes his idea to Martin he gets unsure, saying his idea was stupid. Martin says he has to see things through with Peter, which triggers John to try again.

(200) There is no exact line that fits this, but John derails everything by killing Jonah on his own.

(154) This one is interesting.

Martins says John would never blind himself. John indeed doesn’t want that. He wants to live, he wants to see and he likes his powers.

Blinding himself would be the easy way out.

In this season John fights a lot about his wants and his identity, so it makes sense that he asks the others for guidance and opinions. He is not sure what he really wants and even if it is okay to just take it. I am sure that John at this point loves Martin deeply and wants his input on the situation. He wants to hear “of course I come with you John”, but Martin denies that from him.

(200) At this point not even John's love for Martin holds him back and he does what he wants to do, going from “could” to “did”.

Martin is also in disbelief here, mirroring his and John’s words in 154.

you do - you didn’t

I could - you can’t

“I did. I am “

John is confident in this scene. He IS what he decided to be. He is whole.

(154) More evidence that even Martin doesn't believe John.

Again a parallel:

I can't follow you

Martin pushing Jon away ( to save him)

(200) Where you go I go.

John pushing martin away (to save him)

(and then changing his mind, accepting the proposal of escape)

In short:

(154)

John proposes to leave together.

Martin says John would and can not do that.

He won't make the decision for John.

Martin pushes John away.

John says he waits.

(200)

John does something that Martin dared him to do.

John tries to push Martin away.

Martin proposes to leave together.

Martin has to make the decision for John.

They stay together.

Maybe I went a bit crazy here but these scenes have so much in common.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

thinking about how season 2 of the amazon original The Boys features not only a literal feminazi (as in, a progressive feminist character who is revealed to be an actual member of hitler's inner circle) but also a congresswoman character who is very obviously meant to serve as a stand-in for Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez—and who in the season finale is revealed to be an evil supervillain responsible for terrorist attacks on american soil.

I have some concerns.

[flintbian]

Just finished The Witcher season two! It was so good!!! I loved it so much more than last season!

[lordsardine]

.

[lockhvrts]

.

[serenityfive]

Attack on Titan season 4 is a fucking disgrace and I’m not afraid to say it.

[theworldiswhispering]

Dale was the only good thing in this show

[gayregis]

listen i love the witcher but this will literally rip my soul from my body. i ... am glad they care but if they didn’t it would be so much easier to survive

[aworldofendlesswonder]

.

[string-cutters]

Tag Dump! (Characters + Verses)

[littlecafe]

me, a jtbc music survival show and nugu group enthusiast’s time has come!! or it will...once this airs in 2023...................

[charnelhouse]

i know i can trust your taste and seen as you’re watching hotd what are your thoughts on aemond because i for one need him carnally. i’ll die if i don’t have him.

A/N: Aemond Targaryen x Targayen!F!Reader. Smut. Angst. Brief mentions of the season one finale. Comfort sex.

In the middle of the night, Aemond returns to you from Storm's End. His boots slip on the flagstones, and the leather of his riding gear audibly squelches. You can smell his clothing. Vhagar sticks to him, but the stench of scales is one you know well. It’s your Targaryen breeding. Dragon blood bullies your own as it thrums quietly in your veins. 

You hear his breathing hitch, and it is only then that you turn toward him. You can’t see his expression in the dark, but his shoulders are quivering. His head is bent, eye and sapphire on the floor as the moon turns his silver hair to liquid.

“You shouldn't be here,” you whisper though he continues to stagger toward your bed. He collapses on top of you, his arms encircling your shoulders before he buries his face into your throat. He is slick with rain and dirt and - 

“Are you crying?” you murmur into his ear, incredulous. His emotions are well-hidden secrets. He has tempered them to survive. The middle child. The second son. He desires to only be a blade, a weapon if he cannot be King. You feel him palm the back of your head possessively, his fingers dig into the fabric of your night shift. “What is it?” You're now concerned. This isn’t Aemond. It is as if he’s peeled away some vital layer and exposed his bones. 

“Couldn’t control her,” he mutters. “She didn’t-didn’t stop.”

You draw back, cradling his face gently as you thumb his tears. His eye patch has shifted so that the sapphire glimmers in the moonlight. He is soaking your bed, spreading Vhagar’s stench into the sheets. The tang of dragon hide and wind and old earth. Your own dragon, Nevanys, will bristle at it if you come to him unwashed.

“We should have them mate,” Aemond teased before biting into your shoulder, thrusting deeper. You could hear your dragons grunting in the pit - swallowing rumbles, crooning. Your spine scraped against the walls. There were bits of granite in your dress. 

“Vhagar would never allow it. She is far too old and crotchety.” 

He laughed as he pressed his lips to your jaw. “She just needs to be wooed." He dropped his head to lap and suck at your nipple, rutting harder between your thighs. He intended to mark you, leave you so swollen and aching that you would be unable to touch yourself for days. "All dragons require wooing...including you."

“Get out of your clothes,” you tell him. “You’ll catch a fever.”

He blinks, his cheekbones gaunt and his jawline sharp enough to cut the shadows. His expression remains distraught, almost frightening. “What did I do?” he asks though you don’t believethe question is even directed at you. Some unknown. Someone else. You comb your fingers through the tangle of his bright hair. 

His lips curl as he finally registers your presence beside him. He regards you with a stinging solemnity before it vanishes into something needful, a dash frantic. “Let me fuck you.”

It is a request threaded with a command. You nod as he flips you onto your back. His elegant hand catches between you as he unlaces his breeches before rucking your shift over your belly. He kisses you there, right above your mound. He’s burning hot despite his wet clothes. He’s tracking mud into the sheets, dirtying the room. You swear you can smell blood, see it dotting his milk-white skin. He cups you between your legs, and you arch your hips, demanding more as he strokes at your cunt, spreading your wetness over tender flesh. He pushes his trousers down enough so that his cock bounces free, it stabs at your slit, the head inching forward enough that you feel the stretch of it before he pulls back. 

He fists himself, damp fingers collecting your slick to coat his cock. He draws his length through your folds, rubs, and grinds until you mewl. "Wait," he growls, pinning your hip to the mattress, hitching your knee over his waist. "Wait."

He rears back before driving forward, sinking to the hilt. Your nails bite into his ribs as the leather of his riding gear chafes your inner thighs. He does not meet your eyes as he fucks you, his attention is solely on your chest, where your heart pounds violently. It is a rough taking. Short, sharp strokes like he’s dueling at the training grounds. He groans with each pump of his hips, and the tip of his cock hits something sensitive buried in your core. More wetness and rain and Vhagar’s smell. You're trembling from the chill though there is building heat where your bodies meet. The air sings with it.

“I came to you first,” he confesses, the bed squeaking beneath them. There is the dirty noise of your sex swallowing him whole. Everything sopping. 

“For this?” you return as he gives you another punishing thrust that shoves a groan from your lips. He catches your chin in his hand, blunt nails digging firmly into your jawbone. He lowers his head and captures your mouth in a kiss that burns, and you wonder if this bed will catch fire. Would they explode with it? Reborn like old Valyrians. He is spearing so deep that his cockhead batters against your womb, making everything throb. But it pleases. It makes you clench and spasm as you beg him for more.

He sweeps his tongue behind your teeth, tasting your sleep, your honor, and the worship you offer him. “For comfort, lady love,” he answers, rubbing his cheek against yours. “For the bliss of your cunt.”

He enunciates cunt with his deliberate drawl. It makes it sound as if what you're doing is wrong and maybe it is. Still, you sweat and buck and accept every additional inch until his hip bones bruise your skin.

You drag your nails down his back, and he rumbles like a great beast. His tears are gone. “We may not have this again,” Aemond continues, tone resigned and almost melancholy. “Tomorrow will be war.” 

[smallpeniscollective]

First Time

Daryl Dixon x Reader (18+)

Summary: (takes place in season 2 on the farm, Daryl and the reader are out on a hunt, and they stumble across an empty cabin, and then they seize an opportunity)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: walkers, sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

*~*~*

It was rare for Daryl to be accompanied on a hunt. He usually moved quickly and worked alone, but this time, she had asked him to take her as well. She had flattered her way into the position with, “You’re just so good at hunting,” and “I want you to teach me, so I can help the group.” She knew exactly what to say to get him to agree to take her out, but what she didn’t know was that he wanted to be alone with her.

It’s not like alone time didn’t exist at the farm, but he was a very private man, and couldn’t ask her to sit with him in front of everyone, or just anyone. But when he came back from the woods yesterday after searching tirelessly for Sophia with a rope of dead squirrels across is back, she approached him.

She was no hunter. She had this insistent natural belief that every single little living creature could have had a family or could feel extreme pain and suffering. She decided it was time to get over this and try to return to her human nature as an animal of the food chain. The squirrels were smaller than her, and the group needed to eat.

She was quiet and graceful in the forest, barely making a sound as she tiptoed over twigs and crunchy leaves. But she still felt a hollow guilt in her chest every time she managed to catch a squirrel. She couldn’t kill it, not after she had looked into its panicked little eyes.

“You do it, Daryl,” she said, giving him the tiny creature who was desperately scratching to get out of her hands. “I can’t kill him, I looked into his eyes.”

“Ya mean kill it. These ain’t people like us, they’re the food that we need to eat. They’re our survival,” he said with his agitated southern drawl.

“Hey, at least I caught it. I may be a bad hunter, but you can’t say I can’t catch,” she retorted, as he took the squirming squirrel from her hand. He quickly snapped its neck, causing her to wince and look away. He scoffed at this.

“Do not call me a pussy right now, Daryl, or I swear to god,” she joked, not even finishing her sentence to let his mind wander about what her meek little self would be capable of doing to him.

They snaked through the woods until they stumbled upon a small cabin with a tin green roof. The little building was eerily quiet, although no quiet was comfortable these days. Daryl went in first, holding up his crossbow to take out any immediate threat and slowly opening the front door in an attempt to be quiet and discreet, but the old door creaked loudly. She followed him closely through every room, almost clipping his heels several times. If it was anyone else, he would have made an annoyed remark about them breathing down his neck, but he didn’t feel annoyed at having her so close. He felt better, like he was keeping her safer.

Once the small space was searched, he sighed, placing his bow gently on the dingy, unstable table in the kitchen. She crouched down to check cabinets for any canned or preserved goods, and he searched the pantry and fridge for any dried goods or bottled beverages. “Y’know,” she said mindlessly, as she rifled through extremely expired or already-opened items, “back in the good days, I would’ve used an abandoned cabin like this to do a lotta devious things.”

“What kinda things?” he asked with a reserved tone that indicated he was much more curious about her statement than he was letting on.

“Well, I was a chronic stoner, abandoned building seshes hit the best, but only when you’re with someone,” she said, smiling to herself as she looked back on the fun she had in her youth. “No fun being by yourself in one of these things.”

He looked at her with a slightly quizzical gaze, as he abandoned his pantry search to stand closer to her. “Didn’t take ya as a druggie,” he huffed in a defensive tone.

He told her very little about Merle, but she remembered how he told her about Merle’s drug habits. Suddenly, she felt guilty about recalling her drug experiences with joy when he had only known it as a destructive force. She closed the cabinet, turning around and standing up to meet his gaze. “It wasn’t like that,” she said quietly with a timid demeanor. “I never did anything hard, I was just a kid with nothing to do.”

“Yeah,” he said curtly, dropping his stare to the dirty floor, clearly getting more defensive about the topic.

Not wanting to drop the conversation, she threw out a last-ditch effort to keep him talking to her. She crossed her arms, rubbing the sides of her upper arms as she expressed, “Hey, thanks for taking me with you on your run... I know we don’t talk a lot, but I enjoy it when we do.”

The tension building in his shoulders dropped and he looked back at her. “I, uh, enjoy it too,” he admitted. For a moment it felt like there was a spark, a hint of something more to come between them. She softly smiled, looking down bashfully before locking eyes with him again. He could see the sparkle in her eyes, but he was never as bold as Merle was when it came to making moves. Hell, Merle would harass women like he got paid to do it. Daryl was forever stuck as the little brother, being put down so much as a kid making him now too shy as an adult to be as confident as his older brother.

She, on the other hand, was always so relaxed around him. She almost never seemed too shy to say what was on her mind. He didn’t know if this came from a new lifestyle of expecting life to end short, or if she had always been this way, but he appreciated her talking to him even when he couldn’t find words to say.

Suddenly, the sight of a walker passed by the kitchen window. The rotting man with a half-gouged face stumbled by the window, oblivious to what was just past the glass shield.

She was facing away from the window, but he saw and reacted immediately, pulling her to him and covering her mouth and with his large hand before she let out a muffled gasp from the unexpected grabbing. He pulled her down the ground with him, below the line of sight through the window. Her panicked eyes locked with his, and he put a finger to his lips, nonverbally queuing her to make no sounds. He gestured towards the window, and she understood that he must’ve seen something that caused him to react.

After a few minutes to make sure the walker was gone, he took his hand off of her mouth, and she realized his body was closer to hers than anyone’s body has ever been. She began to blush, feeling her body growing hotter and adrenaline-induced arousal blooming in her. Being a virgin was something she never talked about; it just never came up in a world where survival was what mattered. And even though survival mattered now, all she could focus on was the pressure of his body weight on top of hers, and his abdomen pressing into her hips.

Daryl knew the walker passed without noticing them or being drawn to the cabin, but he found that he couldn’t lift himself off of her just yet. He could sense her demeanor had shifted and that she wasn’t just nervous now, but flustered. She swallowed the saliva that gathered in her mouth anxiously, giving the most awkward, breathy chuckle before whispering, “I’ve, uh... never been this close to anyone before,” thinking it would be humorous.

He gave an obvious up-and-down before whispering in return, “A pretty thing like you’s never been touched before?”

She went stiff, her mouth forming a flat line before shaking her head to signify that, no, she had never been touched and confirming that, yes, she was a virgin.

He paused for a moment, teetering the border of being respectful and staying silent or offering some sort of fix for her, to help her experience her first time before either of their lives could possibly be cut short by the new rough world’s circumstances. “Y’know...” he quietly stammered, “we could—”

“Yes,” she whispered, cutting him off before he could finish his question. Normally, she would have been painfully shy, but his body already against hers, the rush of the sudden hiding, and how much she undeniably enjoyed his hand over her mouth all lined up to have her needing more. This was the first time she had ever had this rush, and she trusted Daryl with her life.

Truthfully, this wasn’t the first time he had thought about this. One of the only single, pretty girls in their camp? Of course he had thought about this. He never thought he was particularly her type, or that she’d even look his way like that, but in this moment, he was able to put all of those thoughts to the side.

He looked into her eyes deeply, scanning her face for anything that would let him know that he should not take her right here, right now. He found nothing. In fact, the glimmer in her eyes pleaded with him to make a move. He dipped his head down to her, placing his lips on hers with that masculine force that intensified the kiss tenfold.

She gasped from the suddenness of his move, but quickly melted into his touch, creeping her fingers up his sides. As their kiss deepened, his body moved up against hers, and a small whine caught in her throat from the pressure changes. She spread her legs, allowing his body to dip in closer and his hips to meet hers. He could just feel the heat radiating from her clothed loins, causing him to harden in his pants. Feeling the stiffness press against her sent electricity flying all throughout her body and sent anticipatory shivers down her spine. In her pheremone-induced confidence, she removed the first article of clothing, letting go of his hair to reach down and pull her shirt up over her head, momentarily breaking their kiss and revealing her bra. He took his opportunity to latch his lips onto her neck, rubbing his hands all over her exposed torso while sucking hard on the soft skin of her neck. There were definitely going to be marks left, but she didn’t mind.

He grabbed a hold of her hips, grinding his covered erection against the inner seam of her jeans, causing her to gasp from the sensation of her seam being pushed into her. She reached down to unbutton her pants, needing less layers between the grinding, but he stopped her hands. He pulled her pants down the length of her legs for her in a gentlemanly manner, making her feel more confident that he was the right man to do this with for the first time. He couldn’t help but stare at her panties, becoming painfully hard at the sight of the desperate wet patch that was already there.

And there she was, half-naked in all her glory on a dirty kitchen floor in an old abandoned cabin, him still fully dressed. But he wasn’t ready to indulge himself in the pleasure of taking her just yet. She watched in nervous awe as he reached a hand down, grazing his knuckles against her covered slit, the ridges of his knuckles making her hips buck up and eliciting a soft whimper form her. The noise from her reminded him of where they were and what had just happened. With a cautious tone, he whispered, “I’m gon’ need you to keep real quiet for me, darlin’. Wouldn’ wanna attract any walkers.”

She nodded softly, her eyes big and round in a plea for him to continue. His goal was to give her the best first time he could, so he gingerly pulled her panties down her legs, tossing them to the side next to her jeans, scooting himself back so that he could fully see her soaked heat.

He dipped his head below her line of sight, using his tongue to lick a sloppy stripe up the center of her folds, ending with a flick at her sensitive bud. This elicited a moan from her, after which she threw her arm over her mouth to muffle any more noise. He admittedly was not the best at eating pussy, but he did what felt natural in an effort to warm her up for him. He placed his large calloused hands on her thighs, spreading them farther as he softly lapped at her, spreading the wetness from her hole. He could hear her muffled whines as she attempted to remain quiet, which encouraged him to slide his tongue up, hooking onto the little bud, causing her hips to buck. Realizing this was a sensitive spot, he deftly latched his lips around the bud of nerves, sucking softly while occasionally adding a prodding lick up from her entrance. This must have been the right thing to do because it had her grinding her hips up onto his face and gripping his hair with the hand that wasn’t muffling her moans. He moved a hand from her thigh to touch her, feeling her sopping wetness on his fingers. He then slowly and carefully dipped a thick finger into her, making her moan the loudest she had yet.

He lifted his head to say, “Shh, baby, we gotta keep quiet,” before returning his mouth to her heat.

“It just feels so good,” she whispered in the most desperate voice he had ever heard from her. This turned him on more, but his attention returned to her loins, as he began to pump his finger in and out while he resumed his tongue on her sensitive bud. When he added a second finger to help stretch her out before his length did, he could just see what it did to her. She held her legs up, thighs squeezing him with intensity as she felt an unfamiliar tightening in her core. The sensation made her a whining mess, moving her hips in rhythm against his face.

He pulled back, removing his fingers from her warmth, making her whine like a spoiled child in response. “Why’d you stop?” she whispered, and he gave a light chuckle.

“Don’ tell me I’ve spoiled ya, sweetheart,” he joked, leaning back to pull his shirt off. She watched him do this, eyeing his muscular abdomen and letting it excite her further. He unzipped his pants, pushing down his pants and boxers below his hips, finally revealing his throbbing erection. She stared at it like an animal in the zoo that she had never seen before, instinctively reaching out a inquisitive hand to grab hold of it, pulling a grunt from deep in his throat. She ran the tips of her fingers up the length, lightly dancing her fingertips on the head, the sensation causing a drip of pre-cum to leak out, and she swiped it with her thumb, her eyes studying it with intrigue.

He took his length in his hand, and lined it up with her entrance, stroking it up and down her slit a couple of times to gather her wetness on it. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he pushed in, releasing her breath with a sigh. Thank god he had warmed her up first, but even still it hurt a little bit as he pushed all the way in. He stopped moving when he was all the way in, pausing to look in her eyes with a look that conveyed a message of, ‘You ready for this?’

She nodded, rolling her eyes back as he started with a slow pace. His thick arms surrounded her as he held himself above her, watching her face as it changed from slight pain to pleasure. She had never felt such a deep pleasure in her before, her eyes welling with tears of joy as she struggled to keep herself from moaning loudly. The push and pull of his member in her felt like the push and pull of an ocean wave of pleasant tingles, that tightness in her core beginning to return.

When he picked up his pace, letting out his own small grunts, she couldn’t hold her moans back anymore. The sounds of her pleasure sounded like beautiful music to his ears, but then he remembered why she had to stifle them in the first place. He moved a hand to cover her mouth, gripping her jaw a tightly as he continued to thrust. The hand on her mouth turned her on more, letting herself make all of her noises into his hand.

“Baby, yer gonna bring in some walkers if ya keep makin’ those pretty sounds,” he cooed, sounding more gentle than she had ever heard his voice. She nodded, breathing deeply with her nose and hearing the whistle from her nostrils against his hand. The tightening in her body had shifted to a building sensation, as the gliding of his length through her and the danger of being so vulnerable mixed together to create an excitement that she had never been close to feeling before. Every time he thrusted into her, it felt like he was hitting a button that sent sparks all throughout her body, and she could feel all of her pleasure gather in one place as he bent his head down to lay more sloppy wet kisses on her neck.

He kept his rhythm steady, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm her for her first time, but he could feel himself becoming needier, needing more of her enveloped around him, so he pressed harder, deeper. The deeper he hit that spot in her, the closer she was to reaching that peak of pleasure, and soon her nails were digging into his sides. Her moans morphed into high pitched squeals buried beneath his hand, letting him know that she was close.

And she was so close. She felt as her walls uncontrollably tightened around him as her inched towards the edge of her orgasm, and he began thrusting fast and hard, overstimulating her senses and sending her body into a pleasurable shock. She began moving her hips up into his as her body craved more.

And then it happened. Her body hit its peak of stimulation, a surge of indescribable pleasure billowed through her, making her walls clench down so tightly on him that he had to hiss through his teeth to not finish then and there. Hot tears rolled down the sides of her face and she shakily moaned with an open, drooling mouth into his hand. As he continued his hard pounding, the audacious sounds of the wet slapping sent him into a frenzy of desire, speeding up his pace as he neared his own climax. The continuing pleasure had her writhing underneath him, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly and pulling him closer. His hand squeezed her jaw hard, sure to leave some bruising on the edges of her cheeks, yet she still let out gleeful moans as he rode out her orgasm for her. He reached a hard finish, letting out a guttural grunt as his hips stuttered, releasing a hot load into her and tiredly dropping his head into her neck and finally letting go of her mouth.

In a foggy haze of her first time being cock-drunk, she still managed a tiny giggle. He perked his head up, looking at her half-lidded eyes and a slight curl up of his lips. He spoke with a low gravelly tone as he quietly asked, “Not bad for a first time?”

“Not bad? How are people not doing this all the time?” she whispered over-excitedly, evoking a sheepish smile from him.

“C’mon now, we gotta head back,” he reminded her, getting up off of her and extending out a hand to help her up. She shyly took his hand, surprised at how easily he yanked her up off the ground. She would have felt embarrassed about being so undressed, but it turned into a humorous bubble popping up in her when she noticed his square little man-butt before he pulled his boxers and pants back up. But the bubble burst when she saw the old, large scars on his back. Saving that conversation for when they weren’t in a post-coital glow, she looked away and got dressed quietly as he pulled his shirt back on over his head.

They snuck out of the cabin, after only finding an unopened box of saltine crackers and an old warm six-pack of beer to bring back to the group.

“So,” she started, nervously kicking the dirt as she trailed behind Daryl, “did you want this to just be a one time thing, or...?”

“Darlin’, I hope we get to do that all the time,” he teased, throwing her own words back at her.

She smiled to herself as she followed him back to the farm.