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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 5: In Cahoots
Norman, Otto, and you try to work about the shape of your emerging relationship. Dates and maybe-dates occur, and the back of a Rolls Royce is put to serious use.
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On a Devil's Wings
OaDWs (part 4 of the Devil's Saga)
((Header Pic for the series done by Lil-Chilo)) On a Devil's Wings Rated E; has adult/intensely heavy themes and very explicit content Fandom: Resident Evil Main Ship: Nemesis/Jill Valentine Side Ships: Jill Valentine/Albert Wesker, Carlos Oliveira/Ada Wong, Original Character/Original Character, Nemesis/OC, others in light passing Chapters: 32/?
CW: graphic depictions of violence, psychological trauma, implied medical torture, implied/referenced torture, major character death, heavily implied incest and rape, on-screen dubcon (full tag list on AO3) Summary: ~Does beauty truly conquer the beast, or does the beast conquer her?~ ~It’s save, not conquer, my silly prince.~
The final arc of TDS taking place right after TSoD/Domesticity. This is where hard decisions and painful truths that change everything known up to this point occur. Do not expect the fairy tale ending to stay completely pretty. The last remaining brother to Nemesis, Zeus is a creature of not sound mind nor understanding of the value of life. He is 'free' from his 'Father' Simon Ghandon, but is ensnared by a deeper want - to find his brother and to clean him of his failings including his weak female and child. This arc digs deeper into 'what is' about Nemesis both physically, psychologically, and emotionally. It will explore darker themes and topics: it will basically not shy away from nor sugarcoat the violent or suggestive situations within. ________________________________________________ Excerpt from On a Devil's Wings: Prologue-
It's hot…
Father
Why is it
So hot?
Where did brother go?
Where are we…
Body feels lighter yet heavy. The feeling of thrashing underneath skin registered to the 'mind'; the sensation curling through bone and muscle culminating into the sick ripping of tentacle pushing through skin. More and more purple-black tendrils push through the headless corpse of the 3rd NE-T to have ever existed.
The head was still pinned to the wall, the sword hilt sticking out of a maw gapingly open in a monstrous permanently shark-toothed smile. The head was staring blankly at the world with empty bloodied sockets. …Not that in life the artificially reddened eyes gazed with any more life unless the gaze of madness hidden behind them counted as such. The body still vaguely registered the sensation of sloppy jagged cuts the sword that struck him down left along what was left of the neck.
But the one that did this to him – the male that had his own head burnt away by a frail, hapless human in one point and time – had hurt the body but did not end the mind. The parasite that was in name Zeus had merely retreated deeper into his stocky body, letting brother Nemesis behead him. A necessary sacrifice to survive and a gamble that paid off. As his former head stared blankly with still wet ichor dripping down the wall, his parasitic tentacles like bloody fingers pushed out through his neck. His limbs had begun to move albeit jaggedly only sensing heat but nothing more.
If there was pain, he could not register it. Not that he really understood what pain was in 'life'. Pain was like another touch. Another way to touch, mark, claim…brother. Where is brother? The NE-T's body had risen with the grace of a zombie, only having touch to guide his way, the senses of sight, taste, smell, and sound denied him. It feels so warm now. Too warm. The parasitic brain that maneuvered the body like a headless marionette did not dare emerge out for fear of losing what it had claimed as 'himself' for so long.
The body had after a few moments of moving around blindly, stood stock still. The many tendrils protruding from the severed line of his neck reached outward like spidery fingers. They roam out nearly crossing the entirety of the room grazing along old toppled overstuffed and positioned dead animals, to the blank expanse of wall where a tapestry once hung. A tendril touched the wall, dragging along the layer of dust the large wall hanging had hidden.
It dragged downwards still till it wrapped around something metal, along with wetness. The tentacle wrapped tighter still around the metal before pulling on it. With inhuman strength, the tentacle ripped the metal item from the wall. Had he had the ability to hear, the sickening sound of muscle ripping along with the thud of the heavy unattached head hitting floor would have registered. The metal item was dropped to the floor, the bigger prize now somewhere on the floor.
More tendrils shot to the floor, the mass now certain of where the missing head was. They curled around that broken, bloodied pile of flesh, bone, muscle and whatever filled the head of the 'dead' Tyrant before lifting it up towards the stump where it should have been at the Tyrant's neck. Almost immediately they began to penetrate the head – still warm for it was very recently he had even lost it – from the bottom, the tendrils filling key portions of it. From within the parasite began to fill the fatty mess of brain and cortex; the organ itself not important for it only gave the parasite more cushion. The Tyrant body Zeus 'inhabited' was long mentally dead anyway. The reintroduction of the parasite would revive what needed to be.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 6: Refining the Work
Norman gets visitors, Otto gets answers, and a well deserved vacation is taken.
Or
The End!
Nemesis and Jill Go to Horny Jail (18+)
My periodically updated porn dump fic with my favs (and sometimes just one of them) doing the do. As I do. ________________________________________________ Nemesis and Jill Go to Horny Jail (18+) Rated E; short 500 ficlet collection I add to whenever Fandom: Resident Evil Main Ship: Nemesis/Jill Valentine; Other Ships: TBD Chapters: 5/? CW: Varies by chapter. Has both con/non con/ect. Is listed as 'Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings' so check listed cws on each chapter (full tag list on AO3) ________________________________________________ Excerpt: The bedsheets muffled Jill’s lips as she gasps and murmurs along them, long soiled by the absent drool that ungracefully trailed from her. She was in no position to sit up and fix this, as a large fist that easily contained her throat and could more if wanted to held her downwards forcing her head down ass up.
The perfect mating position.
Her arms were bound behind her back, the living things moving with a torturous serpentine slowness reminding that they could at any time coil tighter, so much tighter. Her legs were sprawled open as Jill was forced into a downward kneel, him forcing her thighs wide apart enough to not deny the Tyrant what he wanted.
Not the large fist, nor the tentacles were the cause of her ruined state. It was the large thumb, the flat of that finger’s nail that was her focus, the reason she was squirming and incoherently mewling. It slid and prodded with taught precision, using her slick to glide across her hardened nub, sometimes tapping against it causing aftershocks as she near wept with both arousal and frustration. (Continue reading Nemesis and Jill Go to Horny Jail on A03)
Think I'm gonna christen this blog with a recent fic. (18+) 18+ ________________________________________________ a gosling only seeks the warmth of his mother Rated E; porn with twisted feelings (has squicky not typical of tentacle elements so pushed it up to DD:DNE) Fandom: Resident Evil Main Ship: Nemesis/Jill Valentine CW: Dubcon, Ovi, Tentacle Dick, Size Difference, Mouth Sewn Shut, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Fear Play ________________________________________________ Excerpt: The rain hits the window hard in its aggression. The storm outside brews and churns. And Nemesis lays, head to the side, hearing her heartbeat through her twin mounds of flesh. Jill’s chest moved in a steady even rhythm, soft flesh slightly rubbing against his, rough, patchy, and torn, exposing his muscles and underlayers of skin. She was near, too near, and he so exposed, and yet the Tyrant lay as a soft hand pet him. The sweat from an earlier intimacy coated their bodies, her finger trailing a moving droplet that rolled from Nemesis’ scalp. His body tried so hard not to tremble from the soft petting; to simply lean into the affection should be enough for her to see from him. (rest on A03)
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I'm gunna eroticize, romanticize, and glorify the fuck out of that violent war machine Tyrant filled with worms till the day I can't reasonably operate a computer/whatever future peripheral anymore (and then ruin him cause pedestalizing him is only half the fun)
The Prince of My Dreams (18+)
The Prince of My Dreams (18+)
Rated E; Smut involving knives and plants. And nothing involving tentacles, hands and nails. Fandom: Resident Evil Main Ship: Nemesis/Jill Valentine Side Ships: Albert Wesker/Jill Valentine, Albert Wesker/Excella Gionne, mentioned Chris Redfield/Jill Valentine Chapters: 1/1 CW: possible dubcon due to mind control, implied mental and physical manipulation, implied/referenced medical torture, fear kink, faint blood mention, smut involving knives and fingers and tentacles, really fuck those Progenitor plants, tonal shift to 'happy' (full tag list on AO3) Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Jill was treated to a not-so-great home-cooked breakfast, handpicked (torn up, really) wildflowers, and a homemade card by her mate and child. It made the not-so-comforting dream full of awful memories fade away from her mind. Sometimes, purposeful forgetfulness can be its own ‘gift’. (You know full well I wouldn’t skip a Valentine's no matter how late >:) Filling in some blanks about her time with Wesker and Excella. Well, as reliable as that is.) ________________________________________________ Excerpt- One watching, ever watching in the shadows, the statue and decoration that breathed stood in place as commanded. Her masters danced and Jill watched with her eyes looking upon all this decadence built on the misery of others, too beneath the ones in this room to even breathe their air. In watching, Jill wasn’t even allowed to counter that statement, rough hands and built strength marking her as one of this world’s lessers. No, it was his new world she was to have; the ‘chance’ at inheriting a new evolved life generously given borne from him and his madness. Unlike the well-heeled director, Jill refused wholesale the idea of any world he would ever create; a world of nightmares if his ‘work’ was of any future indication. ............... The circle of thoughts brewing threatened to pool and fill her mind with the creeping dread of memories that ate her, humiliated her, and screamed at her before her eyes glanced about the room. Around her, around and along the dresser, the chairs, tables, and all the furniture were flowers. Flowers not from the garden. Wildflowers: truthfully, they were weeds. But they all surrounded her, flowers pulled up from the root all the color of a deep purple blue. Jill smelt the air and could smell the hint of something burned. An attempt at cooking. As she stretched her arms, a sliver of paper poked at her side. It was folded over like a small book. Jill opened it and smiled, the prior thought train finally leaving her. happi valentine’s day! from me and daddy. Written in a childlike scrawl, but the spelling is mostly on point. Under the words was a hand-drawn picture of what was meant to be her, Nemesis and Sia with a giant heart between them. It was so sweet of them. (Continue reading The Prince of My Dreams on A03)
