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itsgivingmami · 28 days ago

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Its Got Taste

Rhea Ripley x plussize!Fem!Reader

WARNINGS PLEASE DO NOT SKIP:

Body dysmorphia, negative self talk, smut.

If you struggle or have a complicated history with these topics I would encourage you to skip over this one. Your safety is always more important that supporting my (or anyone else’s) fics!

This was originally an ask but I saved the draft and deleted it so now it’s gone… tumblr UI pisses me off.

“I was wondering if you could right a sapphic fic for me where the reader is plus sized and even though she usually masks confidence, Rhea see’s the reader picking herself apart while trying to find herself a birthday outfit. But Rhea reminds her that she is beautiful just the way she is. I want tons of fluff, an smut” -Anon

I’m sorry I lost the ask anon!!

—

The room looks like a battlefield.

Clothes are strewn like casualties—draped across chairs, pooled on the bed, torn from hangers in a slow descent from hope to hopeless. Denim that pinched. A skirt that spun too short. The black jumpsuit that felt brave until you zipped it all the way and saw your own arms reflected back.

And now, the red dress.

It’s the one you swore you wouldn’t try. Too bold. Too tight. A shade that doesn’t whisper—it screams.

But it was the last one left.

And now you’re wearing it like a dare.

You stand in front of the mirror, backlit by a golden hour that doesn’t feel golden anymore. Everything is too quiet. Too still. Just the soft hum of the fan and the sound of your breathing—unsteady, shallow.

The mirror is unkind tonight. Well, your reflection is.

It reflects everything you’ve been trying not to see. The way the fabric stretches across your midriff, the creases in your thighs. The way the dress clings, merciless and honest. Your body looks loud in this color. Unapologetic. And you don’t know how to be that tonight.

You shift. Turn to the side. Tug the fabric down. Suck in your stomach. Something you’d be upset to see anyone else do to themselves.

But the image doesn’t change.

No matter how many time you repeat the mantra—

“Would you say this to anyone else”?

Remind yourself to imagine you're talking to your younger self.

That body types don’t go in and out of style.

It’s not the dress. It’s not the lighting. It’s not the room.

You know how to wear confidence like armor. You’ve worn it before—cut from laughter and quick wit and the kind of curated ease that makes other people think you’re untouched by this kind of ache.

But tonight, the armor doesn’t fit.

Tonight, you’re just a girl in a dress she doesn’t feel worthy of.

And the worst part is—you want to. So badly. You can see the image of yourself in the dress when you cashed out at the counter and how it doesn’t match the way you look now.

You want to love the softness. You want to see what she sees. You want to feel the power people talk about when they say curves like yours were made for worship.

But all you can see is what doesn’t fit. What bulges. What folds. The fan hums louder. The sunlight fades. The room contracts like a held breath and suddenly the space you’re standing in feels like too much.

And you try not to cry.

Because it’s your birthday.

Because it’s supposed to be a celebration.

Because Rhea is going to walk in soon and you can’t—God, you can’t let her see you like this.

Except maybe you want her to.

Maybe, deep down, you want her to see all the pieces you keep hidden and still love you the same.

But you don’t know how to ask for that.

Not yet.

Not like this.

The door opens softly. No knock. No warning. Just the whisper of hinges and the quiet scuff of boots against carpet.

“Hey baby Zel said she’d bring the—“

You don’t turn.

You can’t.

You’re afraid of what she’ll see.

But Rhea sees everything.

She stands in the doorway for a long breath—taking in the scene without a word. The wreckage of the room. The way you’re bracing the vanity like it might hold you together. The red dress clinging like flame to the softest parts of you.

Your reflection flickers. You look startled, caught.

She moves slowly. Steps with the patience of someone approaching a wounded animal—gentle, but certain. The way she always is with you when something inside is breaking.

You drop your eyes. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Just… birthday nerves.”

It’s not a lie, not exactly. But the words crack too easily. And Rhea has never been one to let cracks go untouched.

“Baby,” she says—soft, low, like she’s trying not to spook you. “What’s really going on?”

You swallow. Shake your head. “I thought I could wear this. I wanted to. But I look like a wrapped-up tomato, and it’s just—fuck.” You laugh, but it’s hollow. “I feel like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s skin.”

You finally glance up—and she’s closer now.

Close enough to see that her eyes aren’t amused or dismissive. They’re full. Heavy with something unnameable. Tender. Still.

“You don’t,” she says gently, stepping behind you. “You don’t look like anyone else.”

Her hands hover at your waist. She doesn’t touch. Not yet.

“You look like you,” she murmurs. “And I love the way this dress holds you like it knows how lucky it is.”

You snort. “It’s suffocating me.”

“Then it’s got taste.”

You want to argue. You want to push her away with your usual sharp deflections and laugh-it-offs. But she moves before you can.

Her hands settle—finally, firmly—at your waist. And when you flinch, just slightly, she stills. Leans forward. Her lips brush the back of your neck.

“I see you picking yourself apart,” she whispers. “Piece by piece. I see the war you’re waging in that mirror.”

Her thumbs begin to move in slow circles against your hips.

“But all I see is the woman I adore, wrapped in red, standing like art in a ruined room.”

You press your eyes shut.

“I can’t help it,” you breathe. “I want to feel beautiful. I like my curls and my makeup but this dress— I just don’t.”

She turns you gently, guiding your body to face her. And when your eyes finally meet, she looks like she’s holding back the sun.

“You already are.”

Her hands find your face, thumbs brushing along your cheeks. “Not when you smile. Not when you’re dressed up. Not when it’s perfect. Always.”

And then, even softer:

“Especially like this.”

She leans in and kisses you—delicate at first, like a hush. Then deeper, longer. Her lips speak the things you still struggle to believe.

You melt into it. Let her hold you, let her kiss the tension from your jaw, let her fingers splay across the fabric that once felt like a threat.

And when she pulls back, breath hot against your skin, she says, “Let me show you.”

And you nod. Barely a sound. Barely a breath.

She kisses you again—this time deeper. Not rushed. Not frantic. Just that low, consuming kind of want that makes time feel like a ribbon stretched between two mouths.

Her tongue traces yours with intention. Her hands don’t roam—they anchor. One at your jaw. The other over your ribcage, fingers splayed like she’s mapping you from the inside out.

When she pulls back, your lipstick is a little smudged.

You’re still breathing hard. Still trembling slightly in the red dress that has never felt so dangerous—so alive—against your skin.

Rhea looks at you like she’s starving. But not just for sex.

For the sight of you. For the moment of this.

She guides you with gentle, firm hands—one step, then another—until you’re standing in front of the full-length mirror again. But she’s there this time, behind you, her presence a gravity you can’t deny.

Her hands slip down your hips, around your thighs. She lowers herself slowly, reverently, until she’s kneeling behind you like you’re something holy.

“Come here,” she says, voice thick.

You turn slightly, heart stuttering, and she catches you by the hips. Presses a kiss into the small of your back, then slides down until her palms are on your thighs.

She looks up at you.

“Straddle me.”

It’s not a command. It’s an invocation.

You step forward, slowly. Her thigh rises to meet you—strong, thick, already flexing beneath your weight. The red dress rides up, bunching over your hips, baring the soft parts of you to the air between you.

You’re already wet. You feel it the moment you settle onto her, heat meeting heat.

And when you look up—

The mirror shows everything.

You. Her. The split of your legs. The dark hunger in her eyes. The way her hands grip your waist like she’s grounding you there.

“I want you to watch,” she says, lips grazing your collarbone as she rises enough to pull you against her. “I want you to see what I see.”

“I don’t want to see—“ Her thigh shifts—slow, deliberate, pressure dragging over your clit through the damp fabric of your panties. You jolt. Gasp. Your hips buck instinctively.

And her voice drops.

“Look.”

You do.

And it steals your breath.

The mirror reflects it all: your flushed face, parted lips, your body rocking in slow circles over the firm muscle of her leg. The red dress pushed high. Her arms around your hips like a belt. Her mouth ghosting over your shoulder like a vow.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Rhea…”

“Yeah, baby,” she hums. “That’s it. Take what you need.”

Her thigh flexes harder. Her hands guide you, faster now, more rhythm than reason.

You watch yourself come apart—and for once, you don’t look away. You see yourself the way she does: radiant, wild, powerful in your softness. She speaks against your skin between kisses.

“Look at how beautiful you are when you let go.”

“You’re dripping for me, baby. Look how good you ride.”

“Every inch of you… mine.”

Your fingers grip her shoulders, eyes locked on your reflection, your moans rising and falling in time with your hips. You can feel the wave coming—rising from somewhere buried, ancient, and ready to bloom.

“Come for me,” she says, breath hot in your ear. “Come watching. Come knowing you’re everything.”

You do.

You shatter against her, gasping, trembling, your body a soft earthquake. Your release soaks her thigh. She holds you through it—gripping you tighter, mouth at your neck, whispering praise into your pulse.

When your breathing evens, she doesn’t move.

She just kisses your shoulder. Then the back of your neck. Then your spine.

Still kneeling. Still steady.

“I want you to remember this,” she murmurs. “Every time you start to pick yourself apart.”

You nod against her, dazed and glowing and real.

And in the mirror, for the first time in a long while—you believe the woman staring back.

Later, the room is full of warm light and familiar faces.

Golden-hued string lights glow overhead like stars caught in wire. Music hums from the corner. Glasses clink. Someone is already trying to light the cake candles too early.

The celebration buzzes around you—laughter, low conversations, the smell of sweet spice and too many perfumes layered together.

You stand near the bar, one hand wrapped loosely around a cold glass, the other at your side—almost still. Until the press of the fabric comes back into your sensory system and you feel trapped again..

Your fingers twitch.

Find the hem of your dress.

And tug.

Just a little. Just enough to ease the fabric lower over your thighs, smooth a wrinkle, flatten something invisible only you can feel.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it. Not really.

But she does.

Rhea sees you across the room.

She’s leaned back on a bench beside Damian, boots spread, one arm thrown over the back like she owns the place—which, in a way, she does. People are drawn to her orbit without even realizing it.

But right now, her eyes are only on you.

She watches your hand twitch. Watches the way your shoulders curve in, like you’re folding into yourself just a little.

And then—

She shifts.

Just to rest her fingertips on the side of her thigh, palm open, tapping twice against the soft inside.

Pat, pat.

A signal. A reminder.

You feel the heat of it across the room.

You glance over.

She catches your eyes and tilts her head, just a little. Her gaze says, I saw that. Her mouth lifts—you’re okay. Her fingers pat her thigh again. Remember me. Remember this.

And you do.

You remember her voice in your ear. Her thigh between your legs. Her hands on your skin, guiding you into your own power. You remember her calling you divine. Her kneeling behind you like prayer. Her eyes.

The tug at your dress falls away.

You breathe.

You smile—small, private, just for her.

And Rhea leans back again, satisfied, like a lioness whose territory has just been reaffirmed.

Across the room, you sip your drink. Straighten your back. Let the red dress stay. Let it cling. Let it hug. Let it shine.

Because she reminded you.

And now, the room sees it too.

—

Thanks for reading everyone!

Likes,comments(let’s please refrain from body talk in the comments) reblogs and follows are always appreciated!

Real quick I want to say all bodies are beautiful- but that’s all because even well intended commentary and advice can have the opposite effect.

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Help lines here

This is also a good time to mention this is a SAFE SPACE and negative/derogatory behaviour of any kind is NOT tolerated.

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damiansgoodgirll · 10 months ago

Note

IM SAT FOR DONT BREAK MY HEART PART 5 🖤💖

part one, part two, part three, part four

damian priest x reader (platonic), rhea ripley x reader (platonic), the judgment day x reader (platonic), drew mcintyre x reader

‼️angst, crying, nightmares, flashbacks, panic attack, rhea gets violent, family issues, domestic violence, verbal violence, fear of abandonment, fear of loneliness, reader being self conscious, a little longer than usual, SORRY IT’S ANGST DON’T READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE‼️

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!

don’t break my heart - part 5

“stop that nonsense y/n” your mom laughed in the background while you were talking about your future with your father “you’re gonna be a doctor or a lawyer, maybe a teacher too, you’re gonna have a good education and find a job, you’re gonna find a good husband and you’re gonna give him the future he deserves for providing for you”

“what about the future i deserve? what about my plans? my dreams?” you screamed for the millionth time that day.

“the world isn’t made of dreams y/n. the world is made of fact and it pains me that you can’t get that into your silly brain” she laughed off “being a wrestler means not having a stable place to say, means travelling around the world and being always broke and your father and i can’t support you till you’re dead” she said, sitting in front of you at the kitchen table where you and your father were talking before.

“i don’t want you to support me forever! i’m not asking you to do that! i’m just asking you to be supportive of my dreams and-…”

“i said stop that fucking nonsense! you’re not going to be a wrestler! i don’t know who put that idea into your head but it’s never going to happen!” she screamed, slamming her hands on the table, making you flinch.

“dad please…” you didn’t want to sound weak, but your father took your side most of the times. except, not this one.

“your mom is right y/n, you need to open your eyes about the world we live in. it’s not made of rainbows and dreams. the faster you learn this, the sooner you’ll apply for college and get a degree and then a job, the happier everyone will be” he tried to be more gentle with you but still, he was siding with your mom and you couldn’t accept that.

“so what do you want me to do? settle for a life that i don’t want?” you asked, tears in your eyes.

“you wanna be a wrestler? then start training because those chocolate bars you hide in your room aren’t doing you any favour” she laughed making you look up at yourself in the mirror in front of the table “oh don’t be so focused on that y/n, you look good but you will look even more fabulous once you’ve got your first belt” she laughed, poking at you, making fun of you.

“mom!” you almost screamed “why are you being so mean?”

“i’m not being mean y/n. i’m just telling you the truth! imagine going out to the country club and telling our friends that our daughter is a wrestler” she joked with your dad, making him laugh “it’s gonna be so embarrassing”

“so this is what is about?” you couldn’t believe your ears “you’re embarrassed! you think i’m gonna make you look good because if i become a wrestler you couldn’t brag about how your daughter it’s better than your friends daughters! because everyone of them have their destiny written and they can’t say no! it’s because you couldn’t handle me choosing what makes me feel good because you didn’t have a choice!” you raised your voice, making both of your parents angry “you didn’t have a choice mom! but that doesn’t mean i can’t have mine!”

“y/n don’t fucking raise your voice at your mother!” your father screamed. you didn’t like when he screamed. he always turned to be violent at some point.

“i made my choice! i wanted to stay at home and being a housewife because that was what was better for this family! for us!” she spat back.

“no, you chose to be a housewife because you got knocked up” but before you could even say anything else, a loud slap echoed through the room. your father’s hand still too close on your face while your mother stood back.

“that’s enough! i told you millions of times that you don’t have to scream at me, or at your mother. now, you either apologise to us or you’re gonna be in big troubles” your father said but you were tired of being controlled by your parents. you were tired of being their toy. so you simply left and hid into your bedroom.

both of your parents follow you up on the stairs, trying to open your door “get this door open or i’m gonna break it y/n!” your dad screamed.

“i’m tired!” you screamed from the other side of the room “i’m so tired of you not listening to me! i’m so tired of you choosing for me! it’s my life and i wanna make my choices, i wanna make my mistakes and learn from them! you are my parents and you should be supporting me not pushing me down! this is my life and i wanna live it the way i want it! being a wrestler is all i want and you can’t keep this from me!” you were crying at this point, your voice cracking everytime you spoke.

your dad broke the door down, entering your room with your mom and start searching for something. when he found a backpack, he gave it to you “fill this with some clothes”

“what?” you asked in disbelief.

“don’t make me repeat things twice. fill this with your clothes, brushes, books, anything you might need, and do it quickly!” he screamed again making you jump “you wanna be a wrestler and yet you’re scared of people arguing” he laughed.

you did as he told you, not even caring what you were packing. once he was satisfied enough with how full your backpack was, he dragged you down the stairs and into the living room, your mom following behind “you wanna be a wrestler?” he asked, waiting for your response.

“more than anything in this world…”

he dragged you to the front door, opening and letting some of the rain wash the entry carpet “then go! go live your dream and don’t come back” he was pushing you out and you were trying your best to resist him but he was bigger and stronger so it took you no time to push you out and leave you in the pouring rain “you wanna be a wrestler? go! but don’t expect us to welcome you back once you miserably fail…”

“what? mom…mom, you can’t kick me out! this is my home…i…what am i supposed to…where am i supposed to go? mom please” you were crying, begging but they wouldn’t have mercy on you.

“i’m sorry y/n but you made your choice, we are letting you go as you wanted…” she wasn’t even upset about the whole situation.

“mom…dad, you can’t kick me out, please…it’s dark and cold and…and it’s raining and i don’t know where to go…”

“no wrestler, no failure will live under this roof” your father said, before closing the door right in front of your face.

you were left there, under the rain, with only a small backpack and big dreams in your hands.

your screams could be heard in the every room of the hotel but you couldn’t help them, not when you were dreaming, not when your dreams turned into flashback of the past, making you live a real nightmare all over again.

damian’s room was opposite to yours and rhea’s was just as next so it took them one second to run out of their rooms when they heard you screaming.

rhea opened your hotel room with a kick while damian turned on the lights. it was clear to them that you were still asleep and they didn’t want to scare you awake.

“what do we do?” rhea whispered to damian, who was clearly as worried as the woman.

“i don’t know…we should wake her up, gently…” he said. his heart broke when he saw your eyes closed as much as you could, like you were crying.

damian slowly walked towards your bed, his hand resting on your shoulder, gently moving it as he was whispering your name to wake you up “y/n…please hermosa, wake up” he whispered sitting next to you.

rhea sat on the edge of the bed. in case she needed to held you back. you had nightmares in your past and it wasn’t new to them but you never had nightmares this strong.

“y/n…” damian whispered again.

you felt him touching your shoulder, in your mind he was someone who wanted to hurt you so you woke up with a loud scream, trying to shove damian’s hand away.

“hey hey…it’s me y/n, it’s damian…” he talked softly, his voice low.

“please…please don’t hurt me, i promise i’ll be good, i’ll go to college but please don’t hit me again…” your held up your hands, shielding your face. you were visibly crying, still confused as you didn’t recognise that you were in a hotel room and not your house, that you were with damian and rhea and not your parents.

“hey mariposa…no one is going to hurt you…” damian soft voice spoke to you, bringing you back to reality. you slowly slowed your hands down, opening your eyes and meeting damian and rhea.

they both had a scared look on their faces. they didn’t know what to do.

“it’s me…it’s damian…” he wanted to wipe some of your tears away but when his hand tried to touch you, you flinched away, making him stop his movements.

“hey love…” rhea spoke to you, tears in her eyes “no one is going to hurt you, i promise you, no one’s here…”

“it felt real…” your broken voice spoke “like it was happening again…”

“can i touch you?” damian gently asked you and you nodded. he slowly opened his arms to let you rest on his chest, helping you calm down “deep breaths…deep breaths y/n…”

you tried to calm down as he instructed you to do, and after a few minutes your breathing became natural. tears were flowing down your face, you couldn’t stop them.

“i’m sorry if i woke you up” you apologised, feeling guilty.

“it’s okay love…” rhea softly smiled at you. they both were genuinely concerned.

“what happened y/n?” damian asked gently , not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“i’ve had this flashback…of when, you know, they kicked me out…and this time it felt so real, like they were here again…like everything it was happening all over again just because she reminded me…” you still cried in damian’s arms.

“who reminded you? who’s she?” rhea asked, looking up at damian.

“liv…i saw her last night, in the reception hall and she said how much of a burden i’ve always been to the judgment day…she said that finn told her everything about my past, about me still being in therapy, about how finn was tired of me complaining and crying…she said awful things that made my flashbacks click in i guess…why would finn told her everything about my past? was i really a burden to him? to you?” you asked, looking up at damian with sad eyes.

“no, no, absolutely no. i told you y/n that you would never be a burden for us…i care about you so much and everything you went through is awful…but i promise you that we will always be here for you…” he delicately wiped your tears away and kissed your forehead.

rhea was fuming.

she couldn’t believe that finn would say something so delicate and private to liv. finn knew everything you went through and he was always there to support you and help you. finn was the one who insisted on you going to therapy and he was the one who would accompany you to the sessions every week. he would wait in the car for hours, but he would wait just to make sure you were okay. he never once left you going alone.

so rhea couldn’t understand why finn used everything about your past against you when he was the first person to come to the rescue when you were in a bad place with your mind.

“rhea?” damian called her when he saw her looking at the door.

“liv is dead. and finn’s too…” she said before moving out your room.

she started looking for the pair’s room. looking for liv first, she started banging on her door, not caring if it was three in the morning.

finn, who was on the next room, woke up when he heard the noise coming from outside “what is going on? what is this noise?”

rhea turned to face him, walking toward him.

“rhea what’s going on?” he asked but before he could continue, she punched him right in the face.

“you’re a fucking bastard!” she screamed, punching him again.

liv came out of the room, trying to separate rhea from liv.

“get your fucking hands off of me! you’re not better that him” she pushed liv away.

“rhea what’s going on?” finn asked, a little concerned from the whole situation.

“why would you tell her? y/n didn’t deserve that…finn, she cared about you, she cares about you, she admires you…why would you do that to her?” rhea kept screaming.

“rhea what?” finn then remembered telling liv about y/n’s past. he didn’t want to, he never meant to tell her but he was upset when you joined damian and rhea instead of joining him. so, that night, he told everything to liv, full of rage and anger, he never imagined liv would use this against you “rhea what happened?” he asked, a worried look on his face.

“she’s not feeling good, thanks to you…” rhea looked at both liv and finn “liv, you’re mad at me, you’re mad at the world, i get it, but don’t use someone’s past against them…you have no idea what she’s going through…” rhea said tired “you’re a woman, be more than this…”

in the meantime, you were sure your screamed woke everyone in the hotel. but rhea was making it worse, you could hear her from your room.

“damian…should we do something?” you asked, your head still resting on his shoulder..

“no, rhea will take care of this…i’ll stay here with you, close your eyes mariposa…you should rest a little” he whispered softly.

you nodded, too tired of answering. you were exhausted and waking up in the middle of the night after a big evening of working took a toll on you.

damian felt for you.

you didn’t deserve all of this. he knew that finn was mad with rhea and him so he couldn’t understand why would finn put you into this.

“is y/n okay?” finn asked to rhea, visibly worried.

“no she’s not, thanks to you…” she couldn’t even watch him in the eyes.

“rhea i - let me talk to her…” finn almost begged while liv watched from the side, realising that she might have overstepped and gone too far.

“absolutely not! you are no longer welcomed around her, not after you just put her through…she woke up crying, begging for us to stop hurt her…i don’t know what you told liv, but y/n is hurting right now and it’s all on you!” rhea said before leaving.

finn stood there, too stunned to speak.

dom heard everything from the other side of the door. he knew that if he got out he would cause more damage cause he also said some things about you to liv. and right now, he was feeling like shit.

finn was battling with himself. hating himself for hurting you.

“let’s go inside finn…” liv whispered but he shoved her away, wanting to escape from that moment.

rhea came back to damian and softly smiled when she saw you sleeping against his chest “should we stay here?” rhea asked, watching your figure as it was peacefully sleeping.

“i don’t think i can move rhea, she fell asleep on me” damian chuckled “you can go back to sleep rhea, i’ll stay here in case something happens” rhea nodded and left the room. she knew you were in good hands.

“what are you doing here?” you shockingly asked when you opened the door of your new florida home.

“it’s nice to see you too” your mom joked “won’t you let us in?”

“no…no i won’t, now get lost” you said trying to close the door but your father stopped you.

“that’s not nice y/n…we taught you better than this” he said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“really? you fucking abandoned me!”

“we know” your mother said “and we came here to apologise”

“no, i don’t believe you” you scoffed “ there has to be another reason if you came here today. is it because of money? you need money? what do you need from me?”

“we…” your mother couldn’t lie “we have been watching you since you joined wwe” she said smiling, suddenly feeling like a proud mother “and we are so proud of what you accomplished”

“what do you want from me?” you asked again, getting irritated.

“listen we had some problems and we had to sell my car…” your mom said, quite ashamed of that “and we told everyone that we were actually fixing it but money are quite low and…”

“and? and you expect me to give you money because of? it’s gonna make you look bad at the country club or are you that broke that you are not even allowed at the club anymore?” you asked, already knowing the answer the moment neither of your parents answered you “like i thought…” you chuckled “listen to me you either go away or i’ll call the cops”

“are you threatening us, young girl?” your father asked looking angry as always, but this time you were a little less scared.

“no, this is a warning. i don’t wanna see you ever again or next time i’m filing for a restraining order…” you said closing the door right in front of their face just like they did with you.

you woke up again that night, the thoughts of your parents never leaving you.

damian sensed that you were awake but it was only 6 am, he knew you could sleep a couple of more hours so immediately he went on alert.

he looked down at you trying to see if you were crying, but he saw you were looking at the ceiling probably thinking of something or someone “hey…you okay?” he asked softly.

“uhm…yes…” you didn’t know what to answer.

“talk to me…” he whispered.

“they are still here somehow, i still feel their presence and i hate it…i hate them, and…and everything they put me through…but i feel them everywhere i go, everywhere i look, i can hear my mom saying how disappointed she is or my dad saying that if i don’t do well or if i fail i’m gonna be in big trouble…and i can’t do this anymore, i felt like i was doing good with therapy…i felt like i was starting to live again and then…then this shit with the team happens and i feel like i’m getting kicked out all over again…losing finn and dom hurts, i cared so much about them…” you didn’t want to cry again but you couldn’t stop a few tears that fell from your eyes.

“hey…just wanted to remind you that it’s okay to feel sadness, it's a natural part of life but please remember, you are not alone in this, i’m here for you, rhea too…you’re not alone in this journey, you are stronger than you think, and better days are just around the corner…i know this will pass, healing takes time, and i will always admire you for reaching out for help…and you are so brave and strong, i promise you we are with you all the way through this…we are so proud of you ” he told you, making you reach for that comfort you lost many years ago. it was the comforting voice of an adult, of someone who cared for you. it was the comforting words, the words that you begged your parents to say but never said.

and that comfort you found it again in damian’s embrace.

“go back to sleep y/n…you can sleep a couple of more hours and i promise you that i’ll be here once you wake up” he smiled, making a promise he wasn’t going to break.

the voices about a fight between the members of the judgment day flew quickly through the hotel walls. everyone woke up with the news of rhea attacking finn and liv but no one knew why. somehow they knew you were involved but they didn’t know why.

drew got worried when he didn’t see you in the gym. it was like an habituè, every hotel you were in, you were always hitting gym in the morning so he couldn’t understand why you weren’t there.

“shayna” he called when he saw the dark haired woman entering the gym “do you know where is y/n? or damian? or anyone from the judgment day ?”

“oh…you didn’t know?” she asked.

“know what?” he asked, a little worried.

“there was a fight between rhea and finn tonight, i think about y/n not feeling good or something, i really don’t know but punk said there was a lot of noise, especially from rhea screaming” she informed drew before starting her training.

drew was left there, speechless.

you were hurt?

he flew out of the gym and went towards your bedroom.

damian and rhea were both there, you were already awake but too tired to do anything. crying took a big toll on you. your eyes were heavy and red, your head was pounding heavily and you were tired.

you all heard a knock on your door and damian went in protective mode, fearing it would be finn as rhea went to open the door. she was met with a worry drew.

“drew” she whispered.

“is she okay? i’ve heard she wasn’t feeling good…” he asked, looking at the man who was shielding you.

“she is…but it’s not the right moment” rhea wasn’t stupid. she knew there was something between you two and even if she didn’t like it a little bit, she couldn’t help but be grateful that someone like drew was worrying about you.

“rhea who’s at the door?” you stood up, walking alongside with damian “oh…hi drew” you tiredly smiled at him.

“hey…” he smiled, observing your face. you were tired and it was clear to anyone that you had a rough night “can i please talk to you?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at him.

“guys…it’s fine i promise, i’ll let you know if it isn’t” you said, trying to let them go.

rhea nodded and damian smiled at you “we are one door away” you thanked them as they left.

you sat on your bed and drew followed you, his eyes never leaving your face. he was trying to see if there was something, anything that could tell him what was going on but he couldn’t find any sign.

“is everything okay? how’s your back?” you asked him. his heart melted, loving how caring you were even when it was clear that you were the one in pain.

“i’m okay…my back is okay, thank you” he smiled at you “what about you? you don’t look fine y/n” he said but you couldn’t find any words to explain what was going on.

after what happened with finn you didn’t know if you could trust him with something so delicate as your past. you knew he wasn’t finn but you’ve always valued the irish man like family, like someone who you could count on but after last night you didn’t know who to trust.

“talk to me…please” his eyes almost begging. he saw the redness around them, he knew you cried but he didn’t know why.

“it’s a long story and i’m sure you have more interesting things to do…” you smiled at him.

“i have all the time in the world for you, i wanna make sure you are okay, and clearly you’re hurting right now…” his clear eyes never leaving yours.

so you told him everything.

you told him about your family. how your dad was abusive and violent. how your mom used to make fun of you. how they never supported you. how they kicked you out when you were only a teen. how they threatened you and came back once you got famous. how you had to file a restraining order against them because they wouldn’t leave you alone. how, thanks to them, you’ve been doing therapy sessions for years. how you thought you found a new family in the judgment day. how broken you were when the team split up because to you was like living all that happened with your family all over again. how you trusted finn with your secrets and how he went and told everything to liv. how liv used it against you last night causing you the worst breakdown you’ve had in a long time.

drew was speechless. he couldn’t understand how your own family could turn their backs on you. you were their daughter and they were supposed to protect you. so he couldn’t really understand how some parents were capable of damaging their kid so much.

“and that’s it” you said, avoiding his eyes “pretty fucked up, isn’t it?” you tried to laugh but it was more of a sarcastic laugh.

“i’m so fucking sorry you had to go through all of this…there are no words to express how sorry i am, i can’t imagine what you had to deal with and i can’t imagine how painful it must have been and i swear finn is a dead man” drew said making you laugh, a genuine laugh.

“i think rhea took care of him already” you smiled.

“yeah, i heard” he laughed “but i want you to know that i’ll be here for you, what i said last night, i meant it…y/n i like you, i like all of you” he slowly reached your cheek with his hand, making sure he wasn’t overstepping “i like you when you go out in the ring and kick asses, i like you when you are just you, the normal you, i like you when you’re sad or happy, i like when you shy away from a compliment…i like you and i wanna be here for you, if you’ll let me”

and again, you weren’t good with words so you replicated the actions from last night. you moved closer to his body, your hands both around his neck while you moved closer to him. your lips meeting his in a delicate and gentle kiss, almost like saying “thank you”.

he smiled into the kiss, his hand resting on your cheek “thank you for trusting me with this y/n” he whispered before meeting your lips again.

there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. where you just tried to avoid drew’s eyes while his eyes couldn’t leave your face. he understood that you were a delicate person, who’s been through hell and more. and he promised to himself to never hurt you like your family did in the past. he wanted to see you smile every day, he wanted to be the reason for you to be happy, he wanted to be there for you so he made a promise to himself, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 6

part 6 will be out after monday night raw cause i need ideas, let me know in the comments if you have any idea you would like me to add!

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slutforfictionalwomen · 8 months ago

Text

Together

Kinktober day 24

Rhea Ripley x Fem Reader

Main kinks: Anal play, daddy kink.

Word count: 1,3K

Summary: It's the perfect autumn day in Florida with a pretty high temperature, perfect day for a swim, or maybe a nice bang....

Warnings: Smut, butt plug, strap on, coming without attention to clit, cunnilingus, doggy style, slight dom/sub dynamic.

(Please tell me if I forgot anything.)

"And your winner is Rhea Ripley!" Rhea looks around the crowd posing, showing them who she is. You're standing at the front row, watching your girlfriend's win, cheering the loudest of all. The champion takes a moment to look at you sending you a wink. You hear the girls next to you going wild, thinking it was for them. Only you know the truth.

You like being her secret. Only a small group of people knows about your relationship, so it's hidden for the public. Then there are other things only the two of you know. How you scream 'daddy' when her fingers are deep inside you, but also how she cleans you up after.

Rhea's opponent is getting up. The woman really had something to survive. They both leave the ring, and you make your way through the people with your secret backstage pass, on your way to see the woman who stole your heart.

"There is my pretty girl, come here." Rhea is taking off her makeup in her locker room, which is empty except for the two of you. You make your way over to your woman. You got together when you were eightteen, and she was twenty-three. It's a bit of an age gap, but not that bad. You really love each other.

Rhea pats her lap, so you straddle her. Your lips meet with hers. There's a tint of salty sweat, but you don't care at all. Her big hands run over your waist and hips, the crop top you're wearing gives easy access to your skin. You groan a bit into her mouth, your hands in her short, messy black hair.

Just when the situation starts to escalate, the wrestler breaks away from the kiss. You sigh and pout in frustration. After seeing that vigorous match, you needed her hands on you everywhere. Reminding you that only you could be hers.

Rhea notices your attitude, quickly cutting it off by carefully grabbing your jaw. "Oh baby, I know you want me. Tomorrow, okay? I promise to make it worth the wait. Daddy needs to relax." The way she calls herself daddy will always do it for you, but you obediently get off her lap and sit on the chair next to her to discuss the match whilst she cleans herself up.

The water of the outdoor pool is chilly when you jump into it. Rhea always just slides into it casually, but she likes your young naivety as you always jump in it with the water splashing over all. It's the midst of October, but around this time, it's usually between 25°C and 30°C where she lives in Florida. Today, it's a bit warmer, perfect temperature for a swim.

It's beautiful here. Dogs lying by the pool, cat casually walking around, gorgeous girlfriend by your side in the pool. You love living like this, the life you could never have imagined.

You spend some time swimming, talking about yesterday's match, and having fun. You always love to hear Rhea explain how she got to her win or the mistakes she made that ended with her losing.

"I'm done swimming, baby. Want to play a little?" Rhea asks after a while. You always know what it means when she uses those words. Excitement starts bubbling up in your stomach, so you nod heavily. "No, gorgeous. Use your words." She kisses the tip of your nose.

"Yes, daddy." The words come out strong, but you know your voice won't be as capable swen she has her hands on you. Rhea chuckles and gets out of the pool. "Dry yourself up and get on the couch, I'm going to get some toys."

"Good girl, waiting for me so patiently. I got some of your favourites, you'll love what I have in mind for you." Rhea puts down a small, silken bag. You have seen this bag often, it's used when your girlfriend is going somewhere and wants to take toys to that place.

You're ripped out of thoughts by her pushing you down from where you sat on the couch. Next up, she grabs your hair and kisses you, pulling a whine from your mouth. The toys are long forgotten, and so are your thoughts. You're acting on need and muscle memory now.

Rhea softly kneads your breast. The easy access through the bikini top has a pull on her. Just when Rhea kisses down your neck, you feel some slick dripping down your thigh. You hope she won't be mad for wetting the couch with your arousal.

"This is what I'm gonna do to you." She grabs the bag and empties it. "I'm going to fuck you from behind with that cute little plug in your ass." You stare at the black rose ended, bigger butt plug on the couch. She knows it is your favourite. The strap is midsized and double-ended, black with a few bumps that will rub nicely against your insides.

"Bikini off and on the couch with your ass up," the black haired wrestler orders. You do as she says, but you know you're going to get some problems with stamina in this position. When you're done, Rhea has inserted the inner end of the strap into herself and tightened the clasps on her waist and legs.

Rhea gets behind you, you hear how she pumps lube on her hand and puts it on the metal butt plug. The puts the remainder on your hole, slowly pushing a finger in. You whine at the familiar feeling, many people don't like it but it's one of your favourite things. She takes her finger out and pushes the cold plug into your ass.

"I won't need lube for the strap, you so soaked, little thing." Rhea reaches over to play with your nipples before pushing the strap into you with a groan. She immediately sets up a nice pace, pulling loud moans out of you.

Your girlfriend has a nice view at the plug in your ass. She presses it a few times to tease, each time you whine from the unexpectedness. Rhea herself is having the best time. The end on the inside of the harness pushes into her with each thrust and the fabric of the harness rubs her clit.

"Do you think you can cum without me rubbing your clit?" Rhea alightly adjusts her position, now thrusting right into your sweet spot. She tries to get the pace up a bit without getting sloppy, still pushing deep into you.

"I think so, daddy," you answer with a weak voice. The woman behind you grabs your ass, fondling it. The feeling sends a shiver down your spine.

Rhea feels how close she is getting. She clings onto the strap so she doesn't ruin her own plans. "We're going to cum together, okay? Are you ready?"

You feel your own orgasm building up. "Yes, daddy," you respond shakily when you're on the edge. Now you're both keeping in your orgasms, waiting for each other.

"Cum." Rhea's voice is strong. She thrusts harder into you, pulling an orgasm from both you and herself. Your moans and whines mix up, so audible you can't hear who they come from. You feel arms hugging you from behind and crash down on the couch.

Rhea gives you both a second to catch breath before pulling out and setting all toys aside to clean up later. She then turns you around to lick all the excess wetness off your pussy. You tremble when her tongue touches your sensitive clit. She takes care of you, as always, licking to the last drop.

"You did so good for me." Together, you stay cuddling on the couch for much longer, dozing off into a peaceful slumber.

#kinktober #wlw smut #fanfic #fanfiction #wwe #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #wwe raw #wwe rhea ripley

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lovl3igh · 9 months ago

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"they made greens worse in show to push blacks agenda" "they made blacks worse in show to push green agenda" truth is they made daemon and viserys worse and greens are now arouse sympathy and rhaenyra is made more soft and all that destroys mostly female characters and is for more drama and to push whole tg vs tb thing for bigger marketing while saying that's not what we supposed to do (season 1)

and yes, greens are worse in the books, making alicent innocent in the beginning and stating murder of luke as accident was to make them look better. and yes daemon was more "grey" character in the book, while in show almost every scene who was supposed to make him look like good father, husband or just vulnarable guy was cut out or belittled, his relationships make him look like bad guy - killing rhea, admitting to not fully loving laena, abusing nyra - instead of book!daemon who is against everyone but his family (except of green side), there's show!daemon who goes against his family or ignore its' members. and yes there are things when the greens are shown worse than in the books and black better than they were written

but changing ages of characters harms team black only. and since there's many changes of those and that's of many important characters it DOES make team black look worse and makes team green victims

1. alicent instead of being adult woman going against little girl (alicent 18yo and rhaenyra only 9) is now teenager sexually abused by viserys who is even older than her in the show than in f&b. being rhaenyra's peer - and her former friend - also changes the dynamic because now people claim rhaenyra caused break up of their friendship as if she wasn't just suffering 14yo. no, alicent is no more adult woman climbing for power and acting against child, it's a teenager abondoned by her best friend after being force into relationship with much older guy

2. jace, luke and dragon twins aged up - now in book it was 10yo aemond who attacked 3yo joffrey and then fought 4yo luke and 5yo jace*. in the show 11yo (according to s2 timeline) aemond is fighting four kids in the age from 8 to 10. so he doesn't attacks children at least 2x younger than him but is jumped by almost his peers. poor aemond, right?

*before someone say "jace was 6 and luke 5" - jace was born in late 114 AC and luke in late 115, meanwhile laena died at the beggining of 120 AC, which makes them 5 and 4 years old respectively

3. we don't have actual age of twins but looking at actors' ages, jaehaerys and jaehaera were 4, maybe 5 years old, tho in s1 they looked like toddlers. now it's not a big book to show change, 6 to 4yo, but it still look kinda worse to murder boy who barely stopped being a toddler than 6yo

4. daemon fell in love with laena when she was 22 (!!!). she wasn't a teenager. she wasn't also 12yo when offered by her parents to viserys. making her younger in the show made daemon, corlys and rhaenys look worse than in f&b (the only person who looked "better" - there's no good word for that i'm afraid - in that situation was viserys, who decided to marry 15yo and not 12yo. good for you, pedo?)

5. joffrey being 6yo with baby dragon makes rhaenyra look worse and like an oathbreaker. sending baby dragons to the vale instead of dragon who can at very least carry his rider doesn't look cool even though was funny for a second, because she technically didn't break her word, she DID send a dragon, even two, but that was a loophole

6. not exactly the same but - fabien frankel and matt smith' casting. i'm not saying they don't play their characters well or anything. that's not the point. the point is that fabien was born in 1994, matt smith in 1982 and milly alcock in 2000. there's 12 years age difference between fabien and matt but between cole and daemon is supposed to be only a year. now daemon is still called a groomer and cole is not because he is played by a guy only 6 years older than milly. and there are also people who now call him a victim and not rhaenyra

so yeah, i don't really wanna see anymore how much blacks look better in the show than in the book and greens worse... because that's not true. yeah, there are things done that make tb look a bit better but the show started with making the greens victims they weren't at all in the book and a lot of that has to do with ages changing

#anti hotd writers #anti hotd #house of the dragon #hotd #fire and blood #anti team green #anti greens #pro team black #team black criticism #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #book alicent criticism

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cherryheairt · 10 months ago

Note

Hi :)

I’ve had this headcanon for a while where thranduil, upon falling in love again, makes it quite obvious he feels strongly about reader but won’t push physical limits of affection quite yet. Due to him having been married before he wants to be sure the Gods approve of him falling in love/marrying again as to not cause ill intend to fall upon reader because of him not being in control of his carnal desires. Reader is oblivious to this and pushes/teases him relentlessly.

Might end in smut upon him knowing reader is safe and he may pursue them fully or just him saying fuck it I see no god but me down here lol

Or just might end in him teasing back big time n leaving reader high and dry (but maybe with an explanation lol we love some open communication ✨)

Thank you! And feel free to mix it up and or change ending I’d just love to see a take on this 🙂‍↕️

hello! I'm so sorry that its been forever since you submitted this. thranduil is a character that we only ever got to see in super serious king mode, and had little screentime at that so I wanted to think through his personality a lot. might be ooc

I personally don't know how to write smut, so I didn't include it. I hope that's okay.

The character will be named Myria (meer-rhea), but have no skin color, body shape, hair color, etc description. She is eleven though, if that matters.

👑

The Gods had long since forsaken Thranduil. After he lost his wife, Legolas' mother, the world seemed to darken along with his own attitude. He changed, and everyone in Middle Earth knew it. Legolas never grew up to know the kind and magnanimous person his father was before his late wife's death.

To him, and the world, Thranduil was a stoic and unforgiving King.

To all, perhaps, except Myria. Myria had been born not too long after Thranduil—in Rivendell. Though the two never met until well into adulthood, Myria liked to say that they hit it off well. Thranduil would never admit the same out loud.

Myria moved from Rivendell to Mirkwood for her studies, thanks to her friend Elrond's advisory, and had since lived there for thousands of years. Youthful as ever, Myria made it her unofficial duty to occupy the King of Murkwood's free time.

She had even befriended his only son, Legolas, despite their age gap. The young elf was approaching 3000 years old soon, and he swore that he was more mature than the she-elf that graced their halls.

Myria didn't mind the head shakes or comments from royal advisors, telling her to mind herself around their King. Thranduil had long grown used to it, anyway.

Myria made her way to his royal chambers, uncaring about her unpropriety with visiting without being called upon. This was their daily routine. Thranduil had his meetings before breakfast, then went back to his chambers to dine alone. Or, he would, if Myria wasn't always waiting right there at his table for him.

"What is for breakfast today, My King?" Myria asked jovially, perched upon one of his carved wooden chairs. Originally, there had only been one for himself, but he ordered a matching one to me made after the woman's incessant visits. Before there was a seat, she simply stood at the table. The thought bothered him, a tinging in the back of his mind telling him that she must be on the same level as him, at all times.

Thranduil's long flowing sleeves and cloaks followed behind him as he entered the room. "You ask this every day, Myr. And what is my answer every day?" He asks, though there is no bite to his words.

"That you 'do not know'. Quite amusing, the all-knowing King not knowing something so simple." She mused, scrunching her nose up at his tall frame.

He fought an amused eye roll, sitting in front of her. He poured himself a chalice of sweet red wine, sipping on it as he replied. "Simple, or trivial? I do not concern myself with such affairs, the food is brought to me and I eat it."

"Careful, Thranduil. That may one day get you poisoned." She mirrored his movements, having waited for him to start drinking.

"By whom? Yourself?" He chuckled darkly, amused at the prospect of such a thing. Mirkwood elves' loyalties ran deep, the chances of him dying suddenly from a cold where higher than dying of poison. "You are the only outsider residing here."

Myria 'hmphed' vehemently, lifting her nose at the accusation. "I hardly can be called an outsider these days. How long have I lived here? Four...five thousand years?"

"Five thousand, two hundred and thirty." He answered for her.

Shocked, she stared at him, mouth agape. "You know the exact year?"

"How could I not? That is the year when my life started to get ten times harder."

She snorted, shaking her head. "I disagree. I think it only got better."

Two servants entered the chambers, one plate in hand each. Platters were lifted to reveal the neatly presented food, a light breakfast of fruit and toasted bread.

Myria and Thranduil dug into it, a pleasent chatter filling the room. "What are your plans for today?" She asked him.

"Same as usual, final preparations for the Feast of Starlight. Though, there is a task I wanted to assign you–" Thranduil was interrupted by a guard rushing into the room. He lifted an unimpressed brow, staring the guard down for his brash action.

"Your majesty, a party of rogue Dwarves have been apprehended in the Mirkwood forest!" To this, Thranduil immediately stood and strided past the guard out of the chambers. Myria, struck by the news, eagerly followed in suite.

"You are not supposed to sit in on prisoners being interrogated, Myria." Thranduil told her sternly, knowing the sound of her light steps trailed behind his own heavy ones.

"When has that stopped me before?" She laughed. It had been a nearly a hundred years since she'd seen a dwarf, and much longer than that since one had been in the depths of the Elvenking's Halls. She was excited to see what brave adventurers had come, and survived the dark forest's curse.

Thranduil seated himself at the head of his lifted throne, elegant giant antlers rooting themselves out from behind the throne like a crown. The one perched on his head mirrored that, thick branches striking in contrast to his pure white hair. Myria took a moment to admire him from her spot at the base of the stairs. The guard next to her didn't even blink at her intrusion, knowing the relationship between the ward and the King was a complex one that even the elders didn't bother to deduce.

Myria stayed silent during the precedings, not moving an inch except to lean her head forward and inspect the Dwarves. The party was quite large, a whole gaggle of Dwarves were bravely setting off to reclaim Erebor's keep and defeat the dragon nested under it. The leader, Thorin, was quite handsome for a Dwarf, not that Myria would say so aloud. For all her teasings, that would surely be the tip of the iceburg for Thranduil's patience.

As the majority of the Dwarves were escorted to the dungeons, only Thorin was left in Thranduil's audience. She listened as Thranduil made his offer, then got rejected harshly by the Dwarven King. Screamed at, being told off by a life form deemed lesser than an Elf, Thranduil had enough. He sent the man away with a flick of his wrist.

As he slowly desended the steps after the dwarf 'king' was escorted away, Thranduil placed a hand on Myrias shoulder.

The cold rings on his hand raised goosebumps on the back of her neck and arms, shivering at the feeling. She cursed herself for wearing an off-shoulder dress, dressing herself for the nice weather that morning. If he noticed, Thranduil didn't say anything. But the tiny lift to the corners of his mouth said plenty. "Do not fraternize with the filth that dirties our halls."

Our halls. The brief words pleasently rung in the back of Myria's mind. She nodded. He knew her well, guessing that she would try to sneak into the dungeons during the feast to try to speak with the curious Dwarves.

He moved his hand down, resting it gently on the small of her back. "Let us go, the feast will not oversee itself."

👑

Myria and Thranduil lounged in his chambers, simply biding time until the Feast of Starlight had begun. Admist muted chuckles and jests, mostly from Myria, Tauriel entered the room. "You called for me, My King?" She bowed shortly. "I have come to report to you." Tauriel glanced briefly towards Myria, nodding when she lifted a goblet towards her silvan friend.

"I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed." Thranduil said, voice taut with frustration. The spiders had been plaguing their forest for years now, unrelenting.

"We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord." The woman insisted. "But more spiders keep coming from nests in the South. If we could kill them at their source–"

"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Your orders are to keep our lands clear of those foul creatures. That is your task."

"And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?" Ever the bleeding heart, Tauriel worried for other people.

"Other lands are not my concern." Thranduil said coldly. "The fortunes of this land will rise and fall. But here in this kingdom, we will endure." As had been the way for thousands of years. Thranduil insisted that Mirkwood keep to themselves, not needing or offering help from any others.

Tauriel nodded stiffly, excusing herself from the King's presence. Before she left, however, he spoke again. "Legolas said you fought well today. He has grown...fond of you."

She paused, thinking his words over carefully. "I assure you my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than captain of the guard.

"Perhaps he did once. Now, I'm not so sure." Thranduil pushed.

"I did not think that you would allow your son to pledge himself toward a lowly silvan elf." She responded, voice slightly hopeful.

Myria leaned forward, too, curious of his answer. Would he allow his heir to love an elf with no royale blood?

"You are right, I would not." Thranduil chuckled humorlessly at the thought of it. Myria bit her tongue, hurt by the comment indirectly. She was no common-born Elf, sure, but had no royal blood to speak of either. She deflated in her seat, drinking down the rest of her wine. "Do not give him hope where there is none."

Is that what Thranduil had been doing for Myria, merely giving her hope? Slivers of special attention, with no intentions of truly loving her. She stood from her seat, leaving the chambers without a word.

Tauriel, too, left quickly after that.

Thranduil stood alone in his chambers, looking at the spot where Myria had once been.

👑

The feast came and passed quickly, Myria in no mood to sing or dance like she usual did at such events. She attended for the sake of politeness, leaving when she had greeted enough people for the night.

She spend the rest of it wallowing in her chambers.

Word got out that the entire party of Dwarves escaped, and Myria silently applauded them for their boldness. She hoped, for their sake, that they were successful in freeing their home.

Days passed, and news of Smaug's death had spread to every corner of Middle Earth. Thranduil was quick to organize his army to march toward Erebor, wasting no time to retrieve his precious gems. Myria had come along on her own white elk mount, following behind Thranduil silently, if only to satiate her curiosity. Last time they had come, Thranduil had rejected the Dwarves' desperate plea for help. This time, he came to declare war if they refused to return his gems.

The damned gems. Always on his mind. True, they were a physical reminder of his late wife and Queen. But it seemed as though he dwelled on them more than he cherished her memory. He did not speak of her, ever. Even to his own son, his wife was but a ghost haunting the halls.

Myria couldn't begin to understand the loss of a spouse, but she did understand that he was too caught up in himself.

Even though she had little intention of fighting the Dwarves, Myria still brought a dagger and bow on the march. Could never be too careful, Thranduil always reminded her. She guided her elk to stand behind his, watching him greet the human leader stiffly. It was almost laughable how mad his manners were, his kingly presence deemed to good for polite small talk.

Myria had been given a temporary quarter near Thranduil's, their tents close as they usually were. He had been too busy to notice her absence lately, both to her joy and displeasure. She missed his daily warmth around her, but knew it was best to distance himself from him. Just this last journey, then she sould go back to Rivendell to live out the rest of her long and lonesome life.

Thranduil plotted with the human leader, Bard, and a wizard by the name of Gandalf. Myria wandered the decrepit town while they did, having no place in war council, nor did she wish to.

By the time she had returned, night had fallen and all the humans of the town were asleep. Myria ducked into her tent, desperate for some solid rest before a potential battle on the morrow. She was surprised to see Thranduil sitting awkwardyl on her cot.

"Thranduil? What are you doing here, you should be resting." Myria insisted, brow furrowed.He stood at her entrance, possibly being left waiting for quite a while.

"I wished to see you before we go to Erebor's gates in the morning. I suspect that the Dwarf will have something up his tiny sleeve. I know you are a capable fighter, but I want you to stay in town tomorrow just in case."

She protested sharply, "I am just as much a fighter as any elf in your army. I will not sit around and wait for you to return–"

"Please, Myria." He rested both of his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her with his deep blue eyes "I could not focus if I knew you were behind me somewhere. If I know you are safe, I can retrieve the jewels easier." Always about the jewels. He should have married them, she thought bitterly.

"Is that an order?"

"It is a request. From a friend." Thranduil said softly.

Myria bit her cheek, crossing her arms. "Fine. I will stay here on the morrow. But, if any fighting breaks out, I will join."

He seemed content with her answer, knowing its as far as he'll get with her stubbornness. "Very well, I'll see you when this is over." He planted a tender kiss to the top of her head before he left to his own tent.

👑

Myria could only watch from afar as negotiations with the Dwarves had clearly gone to shit. More dwarves had shown up, an entire army to match the Elves' golden one. Myria rushed back to grab her bow, bursting out of her tent to the sound of screams in the town. Surely the Dwarves wouldn't target the women and children who had stayed behind?

She was right. It was orcs who had invaded the town, cutting off exits as they slashed through defenseless crowds of people. Myria rushed to help whoever she could, shooting down orcs' fat heads whenever they got too close to a fleeing human. With her dagger, she slashed through whoever she could reach to retrieve each of her arrows.

This arduous process repeated for some time, Myria panting with effort as she continued. The sounds of screams toned done as golden-armored soldiers flooded into the cobble streets and started to push back at the beastly creatins. Myria breathed a sigh of relief, engaging another orc. It was larger than most, with armor protecting its head and chest. She slashed at his with a sword she had taken from dead enemy, yelping when he stabbed into her abdomen with his own weapon. She gasped, trying to keep her composure as he approached above her menacingly. As he lifted his sword above his head again, ready to strike down the Elf, his head was detached from his body in a spray of hot blood.

Myria flinched at the feeling on her skin, feeling disgusted more than she already was with the sweat and dirt covering her. Thranduil came from behind the orc, who was now dead on the floor. He crouched down in front of her, a frantic look in his eye that betrayed his regal appearance. "Myria, look at me!" He shouted, her blurry vision shakily focusing on him. He held her face in his hands, watching her try to keep them open. "It's okay, I'll get you help." Thranduil promised her, gingerly lifting her up princess style. He flinched when she protested in pain, clutching at her stomach to stop the blood from gushing out.

"It's okay, you'll be alright, sweet." He told her, repeating himself multiple times as if to convince himself, too.

He brought her outside of the town, where Elven medics had set up a discreet few tents disguised to the orc's vision by Elven magic. The King layed her gently on a stiff cot, petting her hair comfortingly as she screamed in pain at the medic disinfecting and stitching her wound up. He glared at the Elf assigned to help her, making the poor young fellow sweat in fear of messing uo in front of his King.

Eventually, the sounds outside died out. Thranduil regretted taking his forces to this pit of death. He had lost more Elves today than had ever been lost at one time since the Great War. Elves did not die easily. This was a massacre of great damage to their ranks, to their people. Thranduil mourned the deaths of his kin dearly.

Myria had calmed, pain dulling when given some numbing herbs. She focused her attention on Thranduil, "you came for me." She said, voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Your gems...they're still locked away in the keep, aren't they?" She asked.

"The gems are not my priority. They are merely objects, remembrances. You are alive, I need you."

Myria felt tears blurr her vision, clamping her throat shut. "But–I am not from any important bloodline. I am not a Princess, nor—"

"I do not care. You are Myria. The woman who has been by my side for five thousand years. The only lady worthy of being Queen by my side is you."

Thranduil took her into his arms as she cried. He shushed her gently, hands locked into her hair as she clung to him.

"I love you, Thranduil. I have for a long, long time."

"And I, you, my dearest Myr."

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #lotr #the hobbit

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fleurbleedinghearts · 3 months ago

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The angst of Oceanus joining the Titans in PJO is so unexplored.

While he stayed out of the first titan war for the most part, his daughters Metis & Styx were definitely Olympian loyalists, with Metis even being the one who made the potion Zeus served to Kronos (making him throw up his kids) but his daughter Clymene's sons with Iapetus were divided.

After the Titanomachy, he & Tethys raised Hera, who loves them dearly.

His daughter Metis is married to the new king Zeus, so everything should be going great for their family right? Except no, his son in law does the same thing to his pregnant daughter that his cannibal brother did to Zeus's siblings, and unlike the children of Kronos, his daughter wasn't lucky enough to escape her cannibalizer.

His granddaughter is born eventually, but she sticks by Zeus. She's even his favorite with Zeus getting credit for creating her alone. She never mentions her mother, Oceanus's daughter, it doesn't seem like she even cares.

And Hera is now married to Zeus, she loves him, so he tries to support her, only to see her heart get broken over and over again. Hera loses her patience when it comes to Leto, every god including her own mother betrays her, but Oceanus & Tethys still stick by her.

Maybe Oceanus is grateful when Hera spares his granddaughter Maia from her wrath, despite Maia being just as guilty of having an affair as Leto? But when it comes to another one of his granddaughters, Io, she's not so gracious, and unlike Leto & Maia, Io never even accepted Zeus's advances. She was assaulted, by the same cannibal who ate his daughter. Fortunately Io survives, but Hera made it clear she's not making exceptions for his family anymore.

Yet Oceanus still loves her. She's just as much a daughter to him as the others, and she loves him & Tethys, she comes to them with tears in her eyes constantly. Zeus's actions sucking out her joy and warmth more and more each time they see her. Hera has abandoned her kindness, only hurt is left in his once affectionate foster daughter.

She makes him & Tethys swear to not help Callisto, he loathes doing it, but if he betrays Hera the same way Rhea did, it would destroy her, she would never trust him again. Everyone else has always chosen Zeus over her, even though it was him who was the source of Hera's misery, and as he only ever admitted to himself, the source of his own misery as well.

Kronos comes back, & the rest of his brothers.

Hecate, once an ally of Zeus, joins the Titans. While beloved by Demeter, Hecate is just as loving of a mother as the goddess she served, and there is no place for her children. She brings with her some allies from the Underworld in Nemesis, Morpheus, & Melinoe.

His grandson & nephew Prometheus expects loathing from his father as he sided with the Olympians, but Iapetus only embraces him upon reunion. Oceanus sees his brother's eyes burn with rage once he learns Zeus's brutal punishment & torture of his son.

The desire for revenge by those locked in Tartarus are clear, but Zeus has hurt them in more ways than one. Hyperion has lost Helios & Selene and Koios has lost Asteria just as permanently as Oceanus has lost Metis, he grieves with them. Their children fought for Zeus and the Olympians over their own kind, the Titans, just to be brutalized, abandoned, & tortured when they were no longer wanted.

People sing praises to the Olympians, but all Oceanus can see is the pain they caused his family, and all this time, he did nothing.

He didn't help dispose of his abusive father, he didn't stop Kronos from eating children, he stood by as his own children & grandchildren fought each other in the first Titan war, he didn't retaliate for the murder of Metis, nor for the injustice faced by Prometheus, not even when his own daughters & granddaughters were getting assaulted by Zeus, Poseidon, & their spawn, and he's tired of doing nothing, so he joins.

All he makes Kronos promise him in turn is that Hera will remain unharmed under Kronos's new reign.

She's hurt his family, and that hurts him, but if Zeus was gone, there would be no women she would have to resent.

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plotthotrobin · 4 months ago

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@medicallyfascinating Absolutely, I’d love to elaborate! ☺️ But I will take it over here to a new post since that one is very Hilda-centric and because this will be a long ramble.

Hilda is very out of place as Claude’s “retainer” as a whole. She doesn’t swear herself to him out of loyalty, she isn’t even really shown to have a bond with him that is any more notable than the rest of the GD. Hell, she’s the one ‘retainer’ character that can be recruited at all. She’s kind of just… there. The only argument that can really be made here is that she is a Goneril, and that house is the one that defends Fódlan’s Throat - and personally, I don’t think that requires her to be in the ‘retainer’ position to touch on.

Most people who play FE3H can tell that some routes got more time and attention in the writing room than others, and I think VW and CF are the biggest victims of this. VW is messy, awful in terms of pacing, and infamously a clone of SS (But, in my incredibly biased opinion, better because of Claude). If I had it my way, the story would focus heavily around relations between Fódlan and Almyra, the Leicester Roundtable, Claude’s background as an Almyran prince, etc etc etc. The biggest crime this route commits is having nothing to do with its lord - especially given how interesting the tidbits he drops really are. With that setup, Cyril may have actually made an interesting ‘retainer’ character considering the fresh perspective on these topics that he could bring to the table. Such as the ones expressed in his really interesting supports with Claude. (I know Cyril isn’t GD, but he’s an honorary one in my mind.)

Assuming we’re sticking to the current VW story as closely as possible, however, there’s one particular issue about VW that stands out: A lot of the TWSITD/Nabatean elements are out of place and completely irrelevant to the Golden Deer and Claude especially.

…With the exception of one character: Lysithea.

Lysithea already pops into the actual story sections post-timeskip to provide information on TWSITD… and then is just brushed aside again. Bringing her more into the spotlight as an unofficial ‘retainer’ for Claude could have made a lot of the unfolding events feel a little less out of place.

Imagine with me that, instead of TWSITD coming up at the last second story-wise, it instead came up during the ongoing fight against Adrestia and Edelgard. In this scenario, Lysithea slowly starts to put two and two together: Edelgard has white hair, purple eyes, has clear connections to terrifyingly familiar mages, and is rushing to accomplish her goal swiftly at the cost of many lives. She hesitantly approaches Claude and Byleth in private and explains not only what happened to her, but that she suspects that the same thing happened to Edelgard. Maybe Lysithea brings up the possibility of her being under the direct control of TWSITD.

Claude is, reasonably, riled up and horrified at finding out all of this and realizes that Fódlan’s issues run much deeper than he initially thought. He now sees:

- The Church of Serios and Rhea, who he knows has been hiding deep secrets that he has been trying to get to the bottom of. He’s been reluctantly working with Seteth and the knights because he needs the support, but doesn’t trust them and still has the understanding that they’re hiding shit.

- Emperor Edelgard of Adrestia and TWSITD, who could potentially be coercing her into fighting the Church of Serios for some unknown reason - or, alternatively, are simply helping Edelgard for an equally unknown reason. He doesn’t trust any of them either, pretty obviously.

Claude now knows that, in order to even potentially achieve his dream of equality and peace, he has to get to the root of the clusterfuck that is Fódlan - because Sothis knows it’s not happening in this state of affairs.

On a more personal level, I’m sure he looks at Lysithea and tries to imagine an even younger version of her being strapped down and experimented on - and frankly, he just can’t bring himself to. It wouldn’t surprise me if, as a secondary goal, he also gently promises to do his best to help her find a cure. In turn, a stunned Lysithea devotes herself fully to him as a leader and his cause.

Now, a lot of this is just a lot of speculation and hypotheticals, and a lot of it is opinionated, but I personally believe there is just inherently more overall story potential this way than with the current setup. ☺️

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #fire emblem: three houses #few3h #fire emblem three hopes #lysithea von ordelia #lysithea fire emblem #lysithea #claude von riegan #claude fire emblem #fe3h claude #khalid von riegan #khalid fire emblem #Fe3h khalid #character analysis #writing analysis

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wrestlersownmyheart · 17 days ago

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"Yeet of Fate" Snippet (What I've got down so far)

Title: Yeet Of Fate Pairing: Jey Uso X Reader Summary: When you, an aspiring author, decide to take your skills to the world of wrestling, you decide to shadow and tag along with a couple of wrestlers to learn more about the sport for your upcoming book debut. None other than World Heavyweight Champion, Jey Uso, is the male wrestler you will be working with, and needless to say, that makes you nervous. You tell yourself, things will stay platonic. You tell yourself that… Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: None so far

Yeet Of Fate

You pulled up tumblr on your laptop and checked for any new messages, or notifications. You saw you had a new private message waiting for you, and you excitedly went right to it, for the moment forgetting all other notifications.

The top message in your message list was from none other than “CatLadyWrestler” a.k.a Natalya Neidhart. She was a lurker on tumblr as a few of the wrestlers were. You’d found out who she was because she’d accidentally made a post to tumblr first, and then tweeted the exact same post from her official twitter more than five minutes later. You’d messaged her and point blank asked her if she was the real Natalya citing that reason, and knowing she was caught, she was honest and said, “That’s between you and me!”

You’d struck up a friendship with her ever since and you’d kept her secret so she wouldn’t get bombarded on Tumblr.

As you opened her latest message to you, you felt a shiver of excitement. This was it. Possibly your big break into the writing industry. It was do or die time.

“Hey, Y/N! I think we can definitely make this happen. I’ll talk to Naomi and we’ll see if we can get you to shadow Jey and maybe Rhea. Would that be okay?”

You instantly wrote back that it would be great. You did however have your doubts. How in the world could you expect to shadow the World Heavyweight Champion, Jey Uso? And the three-time Women’s World Champion, Rhea Bloody Ripley?

“When Nattie does something, she goes all out,” you commented to yourself.

Nattie instantly wrote you back and said that if you’d give her your phone number she’d call or text you with details. Then she messaged again and said, “In fact, I’ll give you a quick call right away so you can hear my voice and know one-hundred percent that it’s me, lol.”

You knew it was her regardless because of the timing of her Tumblr and Twitter posts, but nonetheless you quickly sent her your number and waited.

No more than a minute later, your phone rang.

THat's all I've got so far! Hope you like the sound of it!

NOTE: The part about how Y/N meets Natalya on Tumblr was inspired by true events for me. Except it wasn’t Natalya. It’s someone that I shall remain quiet about because I promised them I would.

Tagging:

@oreillystolemyheart @lookalivesunshine-x @southerngirl41 @claymoresofinfamy23 @beccalynns-world

@Heerah34 @dersha89 @shortyiceheart @wwechristina87 @expert-texpert

@sassymox @sammyfinn21-blog @alliecatsworldsblog @potatosackk @keisha-knell

@peaceloveandcurves @terrortwinunicorn @mzv11 @ibelievedinjh @fafomama

@zigzoggy

#Jey Uso #jey uso fan fiction #jey uso x reader #jey uso imagine #jey uso fanfiction

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 3 months ago

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Ry’s Blurbs!

Prompt: an anon gave me a shit ton of prompts but there was one that stuck out about Rhea’s pets! This is Prompts 1 of 3 that I’m gonna do for that list

Jey/Rhea/Solo - Rhea for a Day

It started as a good idea.

Jey and Solo had big plans for Rhea’s birthday.

“Let’s give her a break, Uce,” Jey had said confidently the night before. “We’ll do everything she does for a day, and she can just relax.”

Solo, being the ride-or-die that he was, had nodded and grunted in agreement. “Yeah. We got this.”

They did not have this.

At all.

Task #1: Cleaning the House

It started with simple things. A little sweeping. Some light dusting. Nothing too complicated, right?

Wrong.

Five minutes into sweeping, Solo somehow broke the broom in half.

“How the hell you do that?!” Jey yelled, arms thrown up.

Solo held up the now two-piece broom, blinking. “I don’t know.”

“Dawg, it’s a broom!” Jey ran a hand down his face. “You sweeping or tryna fight it?!”

Solo shrugged. “Shit was weak anyway.”

That was when Jey somehow knocked over the entire shelf in the living room, sending framed pictures, candles, and a decorative skull Rhea loved crashing to the floor.

The boys stared at the disaster before them.

“Aight… maybe we should move to laundry,” Jey muttered.

Task #2: Laundry

“You think she sorts by color?”

Solo frowned, staring at the laundry baskets like they were a complex algebra equation. “I don’t know, Uce. She usually just asks me what t shirts I like and don’t like.”

Jey scratched his head. “Yeah, same… but Rhea’s, like… particular about her own stuff.”

“Then let’s just do it all at once,” Solo suggested.

This was mistake number one.

Mistake number two?

Not checking the settings.

Thirty minutes later, they opened the washer—

And pulled out a tiny, shrunken version of Rhea’s favorite hoodie.

Jey gasped. “Oh, fuckkkkkkkk.”

Solo held it up, eyes wide. “Ain’t no way this was adult-sized.”

“BRO, YOU JUST TURNED HER FAVORITE HOODIE INTO A DAMN BABY OUTFIT.”

Solo muttered something in Samoan that probably wasn’t appropriate as Jey grabbed the ruined hoodie and threw it into a special pile of failures.

They both agreed silently—they were never speaking of this again.

Task #3: The Dishes

How hard could dishes be?

The answer? Very.

Solo was in charge of loading the dishwasher. Jey was in charge of rinsing. Seemed simple.

Except Jey accidentally broke a plate five minutes in.

“Yo— my bad, Uce—”

“We good, we good—” Solo turned to help—

And immediately knocked over an entire stack of bowls.

CRASH.

Jey stared at him.

Solo stared at the mess.

“This ain’t going how I thought it would,” Jey admitted.

Solo just sighed and added the broken dishware to the failure pile.

Task #4: Yard Work

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS, UCE!!”

Jey was sweating his ass off, struggling with the lawnmower. The damn thing wouldn’t start no matter how many times he yanked the cord.

Solo, meanwhile, was trying to use the weed whacker.

Trying being the keyword.

Because the second he turned it on, the string snapped off, and the machine died instantly.

“Damn, this thing weak as hell,” Solo grumbled, kicking it lightly.

Jey, still fighting with the lawnmower, finally gave up and threw his hands up. “Man, Rhea does this every week?!”

They both stood there, staring at the disaster of an uneven, half-cut, patchy lawn.

“We should just move on,” Solo said flatly.

Jey wiped his forehead. “Yeah. Next thing on the list?”

“Walking the dogs.”

⸻

Task #5: Walking Bella, Barry, and Luna (aka Pure Chaos)

Jey and Solo were confident about this one.

They loved the dogs. The dogs loved them. Easy.

They got the leashes ready, got the dogs outside, and started walking.

And for about five minutes—everything was fine.

Then.

Barry disappeared.

One minute the bull terrier was there, happily trotting along.

The next—gone.

Jey stopped mid-step. “Wait—where Barry go?!”

Solo turned around, eyes wide. “Shit—BARRY?!”

Panic.

Bella and Luna looked at them like “we told you not to do this.”

“Uce, we lost the dog!!” Jey whisper-yelled, already scanning the area.

“HOW WE LOSE A WHOLE DOG?!”

“I DON’T KNOW, MAN, JUST HELP ME FIND HIM!”

New Task: Find Barry

For an hour, they searched the entire neighborhood.

“BARRY!!”

“BARRYYYYY!”

Solo even tried bribing random strangers. “Yo, you seen a bull terrier? I got $20 on me.”

Jey was stressed out, pulling at his braids. “Man, Rhea gonna kill us, bro.”

“Nah,” Solo shook his head, looking deeply distressed. “She’s gonna kill you. I’m her favorite.”

Jey shot him a glare. “Bro, shut up and help me—”

“Fine, fine—”

But after another hour, no Barry.

They had to face Rhea.

Another New Task: Try Not To Get Dumped

Dragging their feet like two kids who just got sent to the principal’s office, Jey and Solo stepped onto the back patio—

And froze.

Barry was in the pool.

With Rhea.

Rhea, completely unbothered, lounged on a pool float, lazily tossing a toy into the water for Barry to fetch.

Jey and Solo stared.

Rhea turned her head, pulling off her sunglasses. “Took you two long enough.”

Jey’s eye twitched. “You knew where he was this whole time?!”

“Yeah.”

Solo blinked. “Why you ain’t tell us?”

Rhea smirked. “Because I knew you’d freak out. And it was hilarious.”

Jey dropped his head against Solo’s shoulder, exhausted.

“Happy birthday, Rhea,” he muttered dryly.

Rhea laughed. “C’mon, get in here, idiots.”*

Jey sighed. “You tryna drown me after the day I had?”

“Maybe.”

Solo was already pulling off his shirt, grinning. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”

Jey, shaking his head, muttered, “I hate this family.”

Then he jumped in anyway.

Because at the end of the day—this was home.

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deathlessathanasia · 3 months ago

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I dont like Rhea.If I worked that hard to save my 5 older children from my cannibal husband’s belly

I sure the hell would not stand by

…as Zeus cannibalizes his pregnant wife/my niece who saved my other kids by making my husband throw them up

…as Zeus constantly cheats on, humiliates, and actively abuses Hera, my own daughter

…& support Zeus’s homewrecking side hoe over my daughter who got cheated on

…as Zeus rapes a bunch of poor mortal women

…as Hera punishes those women (what kind of mother supports the willing mistress who insulted Hera but not Zeus’s victims)

…as Hades kidnap-marries my granddaughter organized by Zeus without even a heads up to her mother Demeter

…as Poseidon rapes Demeter while she’s searching for her missing daughter

…as Zeus shapeshifts into Hades to rape Persephone, his own daughter

She is a pick me boy mom who doesn't care about any of her children besides Zeus. She doesn't stand up against Zeus knowing damn well that Hera cant

I get what you're saying and it's certainly possible to explore Rhea as a morally ambiguous figure (she does after all stand by as Kronos eats 5 of their children in most versions), but I don't think it is reasonable to expect such interventions from her in the myths. These are not real people with consistent personalities and morals, they are (in this specific context) characters with particular roles in a narrative. If a story has no need of Rhea to be present, then she is not going to be included in it. It's that simple. Why does she appear in the Homeric Hymn 2 to Demeter? Likely because she is the mother of both Zeus and Demeter, which makes her a fitting mediator between them. Maybe also because the narrative is concerned with family bonds and relationships between women, so who better to help Demeter (a goddess who had lost and recovered her daughter) come to terms with the new order of things, with her girl having become a woman, than her own mother? Why is Rhea present on Delos for Apollo's birth in Homeric Hymn 3? Well, obviously it is meant to glorify the recipient of the hymn, hence why all goddesses except for Hera are there. Even Hera's enmity glorifies Apollo since it is caused by her envy at the greatness of Leto's son. This is not a narrative about homewrecking, but about the birth and integration in the pantheon of one of the most important gods. Leto is not Zeus's side hoe but his respectable consort whom most deities seem to like and esteem. Why does Kybele/Rhea sometimes raise and instruct Dionysos? Presumably because of the similarities between them and their rites, as pointed out for instance in Strabo's Geography 10.3.13.

In many other stories, by contrast, Rhea's presence would serve no purpose. The cannibalism of Metis? That is (primarily, though there is a more symbolic meaning to this too) about Zeus evading the succession cycle and proving himself more successful than his predecessors. Rhea played her own role in this cycle, it's not her business anymore. Besides, it is not only Rhea who takes no issue with this, not a single god does: not Zeus's siblings, not Metis's parents or siblings or even daughter. Morally speaking, it is a non-issue for everyone because the narrative doesn't require it to be an issue; Metis quite literally exists to be ingested and assimilated. Zeus cheating on Hera? Zeus and Poseidon raping? Those myths are primarily about the birth of various gods and heroes. What would forcing Rhea into these narratives accomplish? She is not needed, so she plays no role, just as other goddess mothers don't get involved when their sons assault or kidnap women. Why would they? Those myths are not about them. Hera taking revenge on the occasional woman? Again, has a specific purpose (gotta explain Io's connection with Egypt somehow), is required by the narrative. Rhea is not needed.

I should also point out that Rhea herself can be powerless before Zeus. You mentioned the Orphic tale where Zeus impregnates Persephone in the guise of Hades, yet Orphic tradition infamously also involves Zeus forcing himself on his own mother.

Now if you were to write a story based on the myths in which Rhea would be aware of all the things you mentioned, would be able to do something effective about them and would not care to, I agree she'd look pretty bad.

#ask #rhea

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frogsinflannel · 5 months ago

Note

for the make me write, if you're still doing that: 🌊🌊🌊

Oooh yes, always! I actually just rewatched Pacific Rim today, so the timing is perfect, thank you!

The sun burns behind him, stamping the edge of the earth in fiery gold. Everything is waking up, shaky-limbed and bright-eyed at the dawn of a new day. Not just a new day, though, a new world. Everyone who wakes up today will wake up safer, the threat of the kaiju finally eliminated.

The breach is sealed.

And beside him on their raft, Tommy lays still and cold.

He is gold-lined, too, the pale skin of his face burnished bright and rosy. But he won't move, and the little breaths coming from his barely parted mouth are getting harder and harder to detect.

Buck fists a hand into Tommy's suit, right over his heart. Everyone who wakes up today will have a new world, and he'll be damned if that doesn't include Tommy.

"Come on," he tries again, crawling onto Tommy's body. "Wake up. Y-you gotta wake up." Buck's face is snotty and the hair at his temple is matted with blood. His blood, he thinks, though he can't be sure. "Tommy please." He presses his face into the juncture of Tommy's neck. He smells musky and sweet, with sweat and adrenaline clinging to his skin. "Please." His eyes squeeze shut, and Buck feels something swelling in his chest, a bubble that's about to burst.

They did it. They completed the mission. They saved the whole fucking world and this is what they get in return? The ocean around them is dark but never still - there's a gentle rocking as they move further and further away from their last drop zone. Someone should be coming for them. Maybe. Comms were lost long before Zephyr Rhea was, but if anyone can find them Buck knows that Bobby can.

Exhaustion presses down on him, heavy and oppressive. His whole body hurts, except his leg. He can't feel anything there, can't move it, and maybe he should be concerned but right now all he cares about is waking Tommy up.

"We did it, so you... you gotta help us celebrate. That's what we were gonna do, right? When we got back? Breach is sealed, no more kaiju, we're all having a party. Hen was going to get us a cake," he says, his face wet. He's getting tears on Tommy's neck but he can't bring himself to care. One arm worms it's way under Tommy's chest, and he presses their bodies together as tight as he can. "You think Eddie's going to forgive me if I don't bring you back? He's going to be so pissed. Chim, too. You promised..." He sniffs and buries his head further into the crook of Tommy's neck, mashing his nose in and getting his mouth as close as he can to his skin. "You promised Bobby and Maddie and... and everyone. You promised them that I'd be safe. That I'd make it back okay. Well fuck that, Tommy, because what about you? How'm I supposed to be okay without you?"

There's a cough that shakes the raft beneath him, the body beneath him, and a ragged, half-conscious voice says "Okay with... Me? You really have to raise your bar, kid."

make me write

#answered #prau:waltz #my fic #bucktommy #this was supposed to be more heart wrenching and detailed but it's hard when i didn't give any of the build up lmao #zephyr rhea is their jaeger if that wasn't clear #thank you for the ask i sat down and hammered this out and it really loosened those writing muscles up #pacific rim au #no seriously i sat down and wrote this in a very short time with no breaks i cannot stress enough how unedited and raw this is

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livsbrutalitys-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Homecoming ✔️

a/n: This is my first time writing so please be kind and keep that in mind 🙏🏻. If you have any tips or helpful advice PLEASE let me know i am open to any kind of advice or help. Enjoy!!

warnings: none except some suggestive language

➰-smut ✔️- fluff ➿- angst

It had been a few days since Rhea had left for Raw. You wished you could’ve been there but you were injured and she had to go by herself. You and Rhea were an inseparable duo… behind the scenes. To the fans you couldn’t have wanted to be farther away from each other as you two were enemies and if you had been in the audience you would have no idea that you guys couldn’t stand not being with in arms length of each other.

She called you around 10:30 that night just as the show was about to go off in about 30 minutes. You answered

*facetime*

R: Hey baby! How’s everything going?

Y: It’s going good just watching my girl on tv. *you flip the camera towards the tv screen and then flip it back to face you* lookin’ good babe!

R: *she lets out a brief chuckle* I’d look even better with you out there with me.

Y: Oh really! Yelling at me on live tv!? *you said with a smile and a small laugh*

R: Oh cmon baby you know I don’t mean any of it, hell I don’t even write it! *she said with a smile as well knowing you were joking*

Y: I know , I know! But seriously, when are you gonna be home? I miss you so much! * you said with a small pout *

R: I know babes I miss you more than anything. I should be home later tomorrow, maybe around 6 ish? * she said with an uncertain look on her face *

Y: That’s to long in my opinion. * you said with a bratty attitude *

R: Oh don’t start being a brat on me now baby. You remember what happened last time you did that? * she raised an eyebrow *

You did indeed remember being splayed on your shared bed with her between your plush thighs, licking up your previous orgasm. You’re hands tangled in her black strands, trying to escape but, she was locked on and not stopping anytime soon.

Y: Ah yes I do remember. But I don’t think it was too bad you could’ve done a lot worse in my opinion. * shrugging your shoulders hoping that would instigate the situation *

R: Careful baby your on very thin ice. * She held her fingers up to the camera doing the small motion*

Y: Well we’ll see about that when you get home Mami. * you knew the nickname turned her on when you said it so suggestively and with that little smirk of yours that only made her go feral *

R: Ok you better be ready because you did it to yourself, my love. I’m going to go back to work I have to be on in 5. You better be watching. I love you, babes. * she said with a wink and a little kiss towards the camera before hanging up*

You sat there in the same place for a minute, ads playing while you try to mentally collect yourself. You turn towards the TV once again doing as you were told. Raw came back from commercial break.

Her music hit and you locked your eyes on the tv once more. She had a match tonight against Natalya. You love Natalya she was like a maternal figure and friend at the same time. But you really hoped that Rhea would win.

She comes into frame as the camera gets closer to her. She looks in the camera with her little smirk. You had a feeling that one was for you. She makes her way down the ramp with a steady and confident pace holding her title with pride.

She gets on the apron and does her signature pose. Looking into the camera with extreme confidence. And here’s the part she wanted you to see. She sticks her tongues out and flicks it back into her mouth then swipes her tongue over her pearly white teeth. This mf know what she’s doing.

You giggle at the action and text her.

Y: I was watching, saw what you did. Now YOU better be ready ;)

delivered

You knew she wasn’t going to respond anytime soon so, you sat back and enjoyed the show. She was in the main event so you knew this was the last match of the night. But, you were so tired and eventually fell asleep right after her match and didn’t see when she replied.

The next morning

You woke up on the couch. Searching for your phone that had been lost somewhere in the couch over night. You gave up on liking for it for now. You got up and strolled to the kitchen to make something to eat. As you were getting your smoothie ready to blend you heard a faint sound coming from the front door. It was the sound of the lock turning.

You got a little bit scared and quietly tip toed over to have a look at the door but not to close in case it was an actual threat. When it finally opened your mood completely took a turn and you ran, jumping into your girlfriends warm arms.

R: Hey baby! *she said as she kissed your forehead *

Y; Hi babe! * your smile beamed up at her as you kissed her soft lips*

Y: Wait I thought you said you’d be home later today? * you said with a slightly confused look but not upset she’s home sooner *

R: Well I was able to get an earlier flight back so I took it. * she said using her free hand to caress your cheek*

Y: I’m so happy your home early I don’t know how much longer I could’ve gone with out being with you. * you said sliding down back the floor*

R: I missed you too babes. But I saw your text last night. Did you think you’d get away with that? * she said using a finger to lift your chin to look up at her*

Shit you forgot you sent that

Y: Oh shit. * you giggle and start to back away trying to get out of the situation*

R: Nuh-uh not so fast baby girl. * she said grabbing you by the backs of your thighs signaling you to jump* Your not going anywhere.

She walks the two of you to the bedroom and to say the least you hope every homecoming ends like this one.

THE END

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this again please be kind this is my first writing so leave any helpful tips or advice it is much appreciated. If you want to be tagged in my future posts just lmk !!

#rhea ripley x reader #wwe x y/n #wwe x reader #wwe raw #wwe #rhea ripley #rhea x reader #rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley smut #smut #fluff #writers on tumblr #this had me on the floor #i’m screaming

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