#helen sorrow
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Multiversal Fusion music
(Invading Forces)
All level(s): Invasion Station launchpad.
All playable characters: Uzi, Helen, Eda, and V.
Objective: Find a way to get aboard the station that's about to go lift off in 10 minutes.
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Helen, as they all snuck their way closer to the station's vents while occasionally taking out any cameras and security guards: Why exactly did we go here when it's about to launch soon??
Uzi: 1. Cuz someone here needed to feast on a bunch of bots before we left. (V: I got hungry okay!?) 2. Once it launches, we'll hijack it and make it destroy one of the Gray Horde's bases!
#Multiversal Fusion#chaos verse#The Gray Horde#The Survivor's Rebellion#helen sorrow#Helen Rosetta#Helen Rosetta-Sorrow#glitch productions#murder drones#uzi doorman#murder drones uzi#md uzi#serial designation v#md v#the owl house#edalyn clawthorne#Chaos-verse#SoundCloud
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St. Sebastian by Peter Paul Rubens, c. 1614 // Alan Alda as Hawkeye Pierce, Mash Episode "Deluge", 1976
#the not-as-good follow up to the Our Lady of Sorrows post tom made#also shout out to theloopus for reminding me of this particular st seb painting#mash#mashblr#m*a*s*h#religious symbolism#hawkeye pierce#helen speaks#mash s4#mash s04ep24#my mash#mash art
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Electraâs âI hate my motherâ and Hermioneâs âIt would be so much easier if I hated my motherâ
#leda looking at both of them with sorrow in her eyesâŚ#her granddaughters having no relationship with their mothers#electra#hermione#hermione of sparta#greek mythology#the oresteia#the iliad#clytemnestra#helen of sparta
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Sadness is general, broad, heavy, passive. Sorrow is sharper, more focused, more active, working hard.
â Helen Garner, One Day I'll Remember This: Diaries 1987â1995 (Text Publishing Company, October 12, 2021)
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Whats great is I can sit on a finely wrought chair & tell 100 anecdotes about my life in besieged troy, and my husband holds no grudge against me because he is a good man whorespects me also because i mix the best wine
#odyssey#helen#menelaus#homer wrote them being happy after the war and not holding contempt for one another for me specifically#april fools#helen and menelaus r so me just muting sorrows with fun little drugs tho
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I had always thought that sorrow was the most exhausting of the emotions. Now I knew that it was anger.
- Helen Garner, The Spare Room
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Swept Away
A storm came through And she wondered as to how She'd deal with it
People have questions Wondering why they didn't leave
She didn't know what it was like But she knew she wouldn't have fended
No, she'd likely be as terrified as everyone else In a storm that showed no mercy
She's seen much of the aftermath shared And the aftermath not shared
It looked apocalyptic
She could only picture the terror Feeling it as though it were her own
She couldn't be curious No, she didn't need to wonder She felt the terror
Terror as the storm pummeled them Like an angry goddess
And she could feel the shock
She'd wonder if she would have evacuated if she could Or if she'd be paralyzed with fear
She felt for the people she knew And the people she didn't know
She felt for those who could evacuate And she felt just as much for those who're lost
The storm came without mercy And the aftermath was devastating
She didn't know how she'd deal with it She'd never know.
#hurricane helene#musings#free-verse#written on the fly#reality subtext#short poem#idle poem#written 10/5/2024#sorrow#worry#fear#natural disasters#revised
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Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins ââand Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please
âAlexa play Angel by Massive Attack.â
A Beauty Too Tempting
pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousinâa beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for youâhe becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)
likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated â¨
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Aemond had finally ascended.
His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him âPrince Regent,â Aemond knew he held the true power of a kingâand wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.
He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.
At Godâs Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strongâs deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhalâs dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.
Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crownâs fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancerâs flames.
But Aemond ruled nowâhis alone was the realmâs rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.
And that was when Aemond first heard of you.
Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayneâs daughterâa maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtowerâs highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.
There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.
Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate towerâan unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.
The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the worldâs corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.
After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.
Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.
Aemondâs gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Towerâs gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.
They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Towerâs base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.
She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemondâs curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. âWho are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?â
The servantâs face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. âTheyâre suitors, my princeâŚmen from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my ladyâs hand.â
Aemondâs eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legendâa prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.
âLet them scream themselves hoarse,â he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. âBy nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.â
The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.
As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have youânot while he still breathed.
A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.
You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.
The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw himâa tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.
Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryenâthe One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.
A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, âYour grace.â
At the sound of your voiceâsoft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavensâAemondâs breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.
He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. âI am not only your Prince Regent,â he said, his voice low, almost reverent. âI am your kin as well.â
You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. âOf courseâŚcousin,â you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.
Aemondâs lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. âYou must know,â he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, âthat I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waitingâŚyour beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.â
Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your sensesâa dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.
âAnd now,â Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, âit is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthyâŚto stand beside me as my queen.â He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.
Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.
âTell me, cousin,â he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. âWould you defy me if I named you mine?â
He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.
Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemondâs hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. âDonât! Please⌠I only wish to spare you.â
Aemondâs lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. âSpare me?â he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.
âYou misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.â His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. âI seek only to behold my future wife.â
Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.
The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemondâs sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.
He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. âBeautifulâŚâ he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. âFar more than any tale could capture. You are�� a vision.â
A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hungerâa need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.
âFrom this day forward,â he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, âyou are mine. And I⌠I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.â
Your breath caught as Aemondâs fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stoodâand with whom.
âC-Cousin, pleaseâŚâ you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. âThis⌠this cannot be. You should notâŚâ
The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.
Aemondâs lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.
âWrong?â he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. âThere is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to beâŚonly fate and desire.â
Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.
âWe are bound by blood,â he whispered, his words low and fervent, âby something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.â His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. âDo you not feel it, the way I do?â
You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemondâs arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.
His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.
âLet me guide you,â he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, âto pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.â His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, âYield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.â
Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemondâs words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.
âCousinâŚâ you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.
Aemondâs lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. âI ask for so little,â he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.
âSimply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear⌠let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,â he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, âand I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.â
A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.
âPlease... â you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. âI-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.â
A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.
âChild no longer,â he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. âMaidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.â
With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.
"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively
Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.
"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."
Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.
âSinful indeed,â his voice was a husky purr against your lips. âYet how sweetly addictive it tastes.â
His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.
âSuch a delectable little cunt...â he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.
Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.
âP-please...â you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. âI...I've never...â
Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.
âI'm afraid...â you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.
Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.
âFear not, sweet cousin,â he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. âI will be gentle... at first.â
He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.
âYou're doing wonderfully,â he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. âNow, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?â
Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.
âN-no...stop!â you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. âIt's too much!â
Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.
âFoolish girl,â he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. âYou crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.â
He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.
âNow, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,â he commanded, his voice low and commanding. âLet me taste you.â
Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.
"N-no...I won't...â you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.
âPlease...â the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, âWhy would you wish to taste me?â
Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.
"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."
With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.
Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.
âAnd then, once I've had my fill,â he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, âI'll make you beg for more.â
âNo...please...â your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.
âIt's too much...I c-can't take it...â even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.
âYou lie, sweet cousin,â he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. âYou crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.â
He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.
âRelease for me,â he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. âLet go and give me everything.â
Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.
âAhh...oh gods...Aemond!â your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.
âYes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...â you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.
As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.
âBeautiful,â he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.
âNow, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,â he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. âWe have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.â
Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.
âOther pleasure?â you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.
âWhat do you mean?â you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.
Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.
He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, âI speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...â
His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.
âShall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?â
A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.
âY-yes please...â you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.
Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.
âPlease...I need more,â you whined.
Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.
âMore, hmm?â
He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. âVery well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.â
With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.
Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.
âAre you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?â He asked, his voice a husky growl.
"Yes...â you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.
Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.
âPlease don't hurt me,â you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.
Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, âI would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."
With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.
âFuck, you're tight,â he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...
A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.
"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. âYou're so big...â
Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.
âMore...give me more...â you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.
Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.
âThat's it, take it all,â he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. âScream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.â
His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.
"Come for me, Beloved,â Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. âCome on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.â
The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.
âYes! Oh gods, yes!â you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.
Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.
âAemond!â your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.
Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.
âTake it all,â he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. âYou're mine now, forever and always.â
As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.
When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.
âYours...â you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. âForever and always...â
As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemondâs arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth youâd scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathingâit was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.
âRest now, my love,â he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. âWe have much to discuss when youâve recovered.â
Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon youâupon both of youâwould not come easily.
His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.
A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.
âSleep well, my queen,â he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.
âTomorrow, I take you to your new home.â
HOPE YOU ENJOYED!
#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd#hotd aemond#aemond one eye#aemond x you#aemond targaryen smut
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But all I am speaking of here are sorrows of the heart. I know nothing of the sorrows of solitary flesh. (...) The worst part of crucifixion is to be so infinitely alone in one's body. Because no one can understand, not even God, not even the mother.
Helene Cixous
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What's Jackrow's mother like? Is she still even alive?
1. She's a soft spoken person who's learning more and more to raise her voice after her failed marriage with a person she thought was genuine about his feelings...Too bad Samuel was just a really good actor.
2. Yes actually! Helen (Jackrow's birth mother) is indeed alive and is fully with The Survivor's Rebellion after reuniting with her son at last.
=====
Luz, as she and the rest of the Rebellion witness Jackrow and Helen having a heartfelt reunion: Aww~! That's sweet!
Uzi: Bleugh...I'm already getting a toothache from this...I'm outta here.
Hank: Same.
#Multiversal Fusion#chaos verse#The Survivor's Rebellion#Helen Rosetta-Sorrow#Helen Rosetta#Helen Sorrow#Jackrow#Jackrow Joyce#the owl house#luz noceda#glitch productions#murder drones#uzi doorman#murder drones uzi#md uzi#madness project nexus#madness combat#project nexus#hank j wimbleton#Chaos-verse
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Was it not Fate (whose name is also Sorrow),
Edgar Allan Poe, The Penguin Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe; from 'To Helen'
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despite everything, you're still here
web weave for @rottmnt-residuum because i ADORE the "residuum" comic <3
(marked this as mature for that one art with donnie's exposed brain but if anyone wants me to upload a censored version lmk)
---
credits:
the cure at troy, seamus heaney || @/rottmnt-residuum || naphtha, frank o'hara || the body in pain, elaine scarry || wounds, ruptures, and sudden space in the fiction of georges bataille, susann cokal || @/rottmnt-residuum || nothing, emilie autumn || asofterworld, #744 || @/rottmnt-residuum || the living series, jenny holzer || @/rottmnt-residuum || the sorrow festival, erin slaughter || the man with a hole in his head, rick bursky || @/rottmnt-residuum || a plea for eros, siri hustvedt || @/obeliskandmetronome || @/rottmnt-residuum || nothing, emilie autumn || @/rottmnt-residuum || @/yb-cringe || dejan stojanovic || love poem for bathsheba, dorothea lasky || @/rottmnt-residuum || white is for witching, helen oyeyemi
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It must have been tough, hiding inside the wooden horse hearing the voice of your wife and forcing yourself not to answer.
There, you can hear her calling your names, in the voice of Aegialeia, of Penelope, of Laodameia, andâŚin her own voice. Do you think Helen wouldâve shed a tear when she called Menelausâs name once again, without any false imitation, but simply as herself?
Menelaus, you were so eager to get up and answer, had Odysseus not stopped you and Diomedes. What were you about to say, Menelaus? That you will kill her where she stands, or that you have already forgiven your wife? Still, I knew it wasnât just her beauty that spared her life.
And Diomedesâhe must have been so in love with Aegialeia, before he went for war. He must have been so sorrowful, having to leave his homeland, upon his wifeâs betrayal.
And Odysseusâdo you think he would be sobbing in silence, just as a fighter moaning in his ship, a man cut off from his wife and pinned down by gales and raging seas? For wasnât it Penelopeâs voice he was hearing? What else could he do but to keep everyone in check, while clapping his hand over Anticlusâs mouth, keeping him silentâbut wasnât this also a reflection of the struggle in his own heart? Now, the things heâd do for herâŚ
#tagamemnon#greek mythology#the odyssey#the trojan horse#trojan war#the epic cycle#homerâs odyssey#the iliad#helen of troy#diomedes#menelaus#odysseus#yes Iâm in my brainrot of these three why do you ask?#LyculÄŤ sermĹnÄs
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The language of this passage tickles me in a good way. Helen going âThe wife of Zeus destroyed meâ (self pity/sorrow, stark awareness, distancing Menelaus from the destruction) to Menelaus going âwhat evil did she make for usâ (bewilderment, referring to them as a unit, the âevilâ Hera made is shared between them)
In a simple way, Menelaus remind Helen she is not alone in her grief, in her suffering, as they are married and share the same sorrow, as this passage points out: Where there are two, one cannot be wretched and one not.
;)
#euripides helen#am back on my helen posting stay tuned#menelaus#helen of sparta#greek mythology#epic cycle#homeric cycle#euripides
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Most people imagine homeric heroes to be hyper masculine and the women as passive characters or whatever, but when you actually read the source material you realize that thatâs very very wrong
Reading the odyssey and seeing menelaus cry over his fallen comrades in the war, odysseus sobbing when the bard singing about troy brings back painful memories, yet again he is constantly crying on calypsoâs island. Laertes cries, Iâm pretty sure the pig herders cry too? Thereâs just a lot of men crying in that story itâs so interesting to see men being so openly vulnerable
And of course we have a shit ton of incredibly complex and compelling women who all have their own strengths, sorrows, motivations, etc. Helen, clytemnestra, elektra, penelope, cassandra, andromache, circe and so many more are so incredibly diverse and interesting and powerful in their own ways. Whether it be through magic, cunning, physical strength, resilience, their voices, their devotion, etc. Every single one of them are written so well even though people mainly focus on the men in their stories
Iâm just using instances from the epic cycle as examples but if we expand it to all of greek mythology there is an infinite amount of examples one could pull from, and I think thatâs pretty rad
#I thought about how I was gonna word this for a long time#I was originally gonna joke about how much of men crying there is in the odyssey#then I was like âwait⌠I have Thoughts and Feelings about thisâ#and then I started thinking about the portrayal of women in myths (I LOVE YOU WOMEN IN GREEK MYTHOLOGY!!!!!!! đđđđđđđ)#anyways#mind you ancient greece was still a very misogynistic and patriarchal society#but you donât need me to tell you that#greek mythology#the epic cycle#homeric epics#the odyssey#the iliad#tagamemnon
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In These Arms - Achilles x (Fem) Trojan!Reader
Warnings: Paris dumped the reader for Helen before she gets to meet Achilles. Includes break up angst + discussion of cheating.
Summary: Heartbroken and publicly humilliated after being abandoned by Paris, you seek peace in the promise of giving up on men without realizing the consequences of his actions would find you one last time.
Turned into a war prisoner and handled to the leader of the myrmidons, the unusual comfort of your master offers you a second chance.
Note: Inspired by two prompt lists by my dear friend @alysinwonderland-at-tea
Angst list - Prompt 4 " Everyone told me you were going to break my heart. I should have listened to them. "
Fluff list - Prompt 2 "I think about you. Ceaselessly."
Tags: @lovelybaka
If everyone else in Troy had reasons for sorrow, on top of theirs you were the most damaged. The man you loved had returned home bringing someone else on his charriot. A stolen queen, woman you didn't have the slightest chance of comparing yourself to given the charm of her famously inhuman beauty. Even when Paris never made any expressed promises priorly, love confessions had once been mutually retributed and you believed in that.
You trusted him going against the advice of many people who attempted to warn you. His own brother had told you that no matter how much he spoke of it, Paris knew nothing about love. Blinded by your feelings, you didn't care, and it turned out the worst mistake of your life.
" Everyone told me you were going to break my heart. I should have listened to them. "
It took you all the strenght you had left not to cry, but at that moment of confrontation it was him the one sobbing in front of you.
" I never meant to! Dear, what I felt for you was real ⌠But it wasn't true love, and I had no way to tell the difference untill I meet Helen. "
You couldn't believe the excuse that was being given to you.
" It was for me, Paris ⌠and because of you I think I will never love again. I gave you everything, but turns out all I am wasn't enough. "
The assumption seemed to have offended him.
" You know I don't mean that! Please, try to understand! "
" What's left to understand? You betrayed your homeland and you betrayed me. You too deserve each other, indeed: a cheater for a cheater ⌠Lovely couple to doom us all! And me the first."
He gave you a hurted look, as if after what he did he still cared for your forgiveness.
" My heart breaks for you, and i am ashamed of myself for the pain i'm causing you ⌠But what can shame do to stop the intensity of love? I would have never accompanied Hector to Sparta if I would have known there I would fall like this for someone else. I couldn't return pretending nothing have happened, and making you live a lie would have been even more unfair than this. You deserve better, I still hold good feelings for you. I swear it on these arms that had comforted you countless times before. "
Paris attempted to pull you closer for a hug, but you stopped him rĂght away.
" You humilliated me in front of the entire city! And how strongly I wish I could get granted the mercy of never seeing you again, but Troy is not big enough for that. Blessed is the king of Sparta, who gets the rĂght of spreading hate without having to see his wife in the arms of other man every day! Me, instead? I get doomed to watch you smile happyly from afar in the balcony of the palace alongside your mistress for the rest of my life. Do you call that justice, Paris? If that is your mercy, I would rather get your hate. "
In the most twisted way possible, the gods granted at least one of your wishes.
Promising yourself to never love another man ever again after your first love had ended so bitterly, you took the first step into the only path allowed for a woman in your position. With the help of Briseis, who remained your friend despite what happened with her cousin, you seeked to get choosen to take vows in her temple. It was a quick way to restitute your honor in the public eye and be left alone as well. Unfortunately, you didn't get to even try on the priestess robes before the concecuencies of Paris' actions reached you once more.
Greek warriors brought to avenge the husband of his new lover destroyed the temple, killing the priests and taking you prisioner. You would never get to see the great city of Priam again and, despite the sorrow you felt when thinking of your family, that also caused you a dark sense of relief. Because of Paris you have lost everything, even the most bassic of goods such as your freedom. Only after loosing so much, of hitting rock bottom, you had a real chance to be free of him.
Enslaved to Achilles, but liberated from everything you were before, the worst part was having to stand the provocations. The myrmidon enjoyed himself attempting to seduce you, but wasn't forcing you into his bed, and that worked good enough for you in that context.
At one given time you did found his teasing going too far, and only then you became fully honest with him.
" Why did you choose to love a god? I think you will find the romance one sided. "
It made your blood boil, even if you could tell he spoke to you like that because he had no idea of who you were despite knowing your name. Achilles believed to be teasing a priestess and in the discoverment of his mistake you ended up laying eyes on him for longer than you should.
He was wearing the same type of long egyptian styled robes Paris would typically wear in the domestic environment, keeping arms and shoulders covered while fully exposing the torso. It was matched with the same sort of long skirt made of light fabrics opened at the side for more cassual expousure. You could vividly remember he wore a black outfit almost identical to that one during the first night you made love.
And yet, that man looked nothing like him. His sun kissed skin and the sculpted muscles were as contrasting as his blond hair and blue eyes.
" I have choosen nothing, fate forced me to seek shelter in the cult of Apollo after being abandoned by the love of my life. I told myself that, if i could never love again, I could at least give my devotion to the regent god of my city. Because of you I never got to become a priestess, so now i'm a double spoil: rejected for marriage and dragged out of the temple. "
Although standing rĂght in front of you, disbelief faded some of the cockiness.
" You won't be rejected here, that's a promise. I had a minor altercate with Ajax because we found you so pretty we both wanted to keep you."
He sat on the ground rĂght next to you and observed you with tenderness before taunting you once more.
" Did I ruin your life, or arrived just in time to restaure your faith in men? I don't understand how a girl like you could think of running to hide inside a temple instead of getting herself a better man. "
You answered with the truth, but carefully crafting enough disdain.
" There was nothing I could have done to keep him with me when the competition was the most beautifull woman in the world. The majority of men would have done the same, and that's why I have choosen not to believe in any other ever again. "
Achilles wasn't expecting to find out he was struggling for the attention of the woman that the trojan prince had left behind in his pursuement of the spartan queen.
" Will all mankind pay for the crimes of Paris? That bastard is not even a man. You are so much better without him, consider that perhaps the queen has made you a favor. If he is your reason to give up on men, I have to say it's quite offensive for the rest of us. "
You could tell where his speech was coming and you tried to stop him.
" You would have given me to Ajax if Briseis wouldn't have ran away. I didn't left with her only because I have nothing left to live for. Living in Troy is unbereable for me, but at least here I don't have to worry about seeing them and that's the only perk i expect. Don't try to pretend you could be any different, specially when I'm here because you couldn't find any other more beautifull slave girl to claim yours. "
His hand was then on your face, lifting up your chin so your eyes won't leave his as his thumb caressed your lips.
" I think of you, ceaselessly. If there is any daughter of trojan judged more beautifull than you, I don't need to know and I don't care, because I want you over any other. "
Your hand followed his and pulled down, rejecting his contact.
" Sweet lies won't win me over, not this time. "
It frustrated him, but wouldn't make him desist.
" Would you believe me if I bring you his head on a spear? I can make him cry a painfull death to pay for your tears. Whatever vengeance Menelaus dreams of would be called mercy compared to what I can do to that trojan bastard in your name."
The strange rush of passionate defense encouraged you to reveal yourself.
" Revenge is not on my interest, all I want is to forget. Can you make me stop thinking of the first man who made my heart beat? The moments when we were happy still haunt me like a disease of the spirit, but then I remember someone else occupies my place now and it's like my heart gets eaten raw inside my chest. Pain and regret is all I have for you, son of Peleus. Paris drained me of anything else. "
Achilles got rid of his black robe and wrapped your shoulders with it.
" One night in my arms is all i think that would take me to vanish the memory of that fool from your mind. You haven't yet been loved by a real man: whatever he gave you would taste like few once you would have tasted me."
The fabric was still warm from the contact with his skin and he was holding both sides of it on top of your chest in an attempt of wrapping you tighter.
You didn't try to escape him that time and he used the new proximity in his advantage to trap you in his strong grip, pushing your body against his.
" In this arms you will find happiness again, if you allow me to show you how good I can do just for you. "
#troy 2004#troy#paris of troy#achilles#paris of troy x reader#achilles x reader#orlando bloom#brad pitt#orlando bloom x reader#brad pitt x reader
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