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absurdthirst · 2 months ago

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The Watcher {Modern!Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Ellaria Sand}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Voyeurism, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), masturbation, vaginal sex, sexual invitation, alcohol, threesome, stripping, nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), wlw, vaginal sex, face sitting, cock worship

Comments: The view out the window of your apartment becomes an obsession, watching the lovers in the building across the way touch each other. Until you discover they know you are watching, and invite you to join.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Oberyn smirks as Ellaria straddles him, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the small side table, a cheeky grin on her face. He’s been busy reading his book about Ancient Rome, and she is tired of thinking how good he looks with those new glasses on. “You’re interrupting me, my sun.” Oberyn tuts and Ellaria chuckles, grabbing the book and closing it before she sets it down.

“Like you were reading it anyway. Your eyes have been following me around the room.” She hums, sliding her hands along his shirt clad chest.

“You’re eager for me. I love it.” Oberyn coos, leaning in to playfully nip his lover’s jaw, his lips pressing onto her cheek until he finds her lips, his hands squeezing her waist.

The first time you had seen the gorgeous couple, they had been directing movers into the building across from yours. The large picture windows that had cost you a fortune to have the view of the city, had also been perfect to see into the spacious apartment. You had been curious, a little envious of the willowy brunette for her exquisite taste in furniture, clothing and men. Then you had gone about your day. Until you had seen them undress each other.

You hadn’t meant to spy, horrified that you could clearly see their activities and they did not realize it. Until you had seen how intimate they were. Their desire intrigued you and you had watched until they were done.

Now, you are watching again. Breathless when you see the woman straddle him. You don’t know his name, never formally introducing yourself for fear of dying of shame, but you secretly call him Prince. Not after the musician, but because you would think him a King with his sharp jaw and hooked nose, but he is too carefree. He is more like a Prince, a dashing second son of royalty with all the perks and none of the responsibility.

“My sun. You are exquisite.” Oberyn murmurs, his hands gripping Ellaria’s dress and he’s quick to drag it over her head. When that hits the floor, his large hands cup her tits, grateful she’s not wearing a bra, and he leans in to take her nipple into his mouth.

They are gorgeous together, so beautiful it should piss you off and they are completely enamored with each other. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the throbbing in your pussy as you watch, getting turned on by the scene that has started playing out in front of your windows.

His hands caress her back, sliding down to her ass, and he snakes his fingers under the elastic of her panties, squeezing her ass while she starts to grind onto his hardening cock. “You are a minx, my love.” Oberyn murmurs, kissing up Ellaria’s sternum. “All for you, my prince.” Ellaria murmurs, running her hands through his hair.

Even though you aren’t being touched, your skin starts to tingle, breaths coming out in uneven pants. When they do this, which is often, you are helpless to do anything else. Drawn to them like a moth to the flame. You wish you were there, kissing her beautiful body or sinking your fingers into his short, peppered dark hair.

Oberyn chuckles as Ellaria shifts off of his lap, her fingers hooking in his sweatpants and she drags them down. His hard cock bounces as it’s released from his pants. “Mmm she’s watching again.” Ellaria observes without looking over to the window. Oberyn chuckles and strokes her cheek, “then let’s give her something to watch.”

You don’t know they are talking about you. Imagining the words exchanged between them to be the affirmations of love that you don’t have. No partner in a long time and maybe that’s why you’ve fixated on them. You don’t know who you would want more. The seductive woman, with a bewitching smile and fantastic tits; or the debonair man with a wicked smirk and huge cock. Both have their merits and if you could, in your dream, you would have both.

Ellaria leans in, “we gotta put on a good show for her, lover.” She coos, gripping Oberyn’s cock and he groans when she leans in to slide her tongue along the underside of his length. “Mierda.” He hisses, his eyes closing as she wraps her lips around the head after pushing down the foreskin.

You moan softly, alone in your apartment as you watch her take the man’s cock into her mouth. Wondering how he tastes, how he feels on her tongue. Wishing you could share with her. You shouldn’t touch yourself. Sitting down into a chair that hides all but your head as you watch, you hand slides down to cup your cunt through your leggings.

“Do you think she wants your cunt, my sun. Or my cock? Or both of us?” Oberyn muses as Ellaria starts to bob her head, taking his cock a little deeper. “We could share her. If she wants to come over here.” Oberyn smirks, his chest heaving as Ellaria wrecks him with her mouth like she always does. “Shall we give her a bigger show? Have you ride me so she can watch?” Oberyn groans, caressing Ellaria’s hair.

Over the leggings isn’t enough, making you snake your hand down the stretchy material and groan when you touch the swollen bundle of nerves. You’re already slick, so turned on it’s embarrassing and you would cringe to know if anyone discovered your secret. You’ve become a voyeur, unable to masturbate until the strangers in the building across from your apartment are fucking.

Ellaria pulls off of Oberyn’s cock, a giggle escaping her lips as she straddles him again. Reaching down to grip his cock, she notches him at her entrance and starts to slowly sink down onto him. His hands caressing her back, sliding up to squeeze her tits. “Gorgeous, my sun. She will enjoy watching you.”

Your own moan is audaciously loud, echoing through your apartment as the perfectly cast porno plays out in front of you. You wonder how they feel, her squeezing around him and the way he breaks her open. Your two fingers dip into your soaked cunt and then slide back out to rub slow circles around your aching clit, hissing because of how good it feels.

Ellaria slides her hands up his chest, caressing the sun tattoo on his peck he got in honor of his love for her. She had pulled him out of a dark place after his sister was murdered. “His burst of light in the darkness” is what he called her. “My lover, she is touching herself.” Ellaria declares as she looks in the mirror they set up to watch you without you knowing. “Good. Let her watch. Imagine herself sitting pretty on my cock. Or maybe she’s imagining lapping at where we are joined?” He ponders while she starts to rock on top of him.

If you weren’t obsessed with seeing them every second, you would close your eyes, but you have to watch them. She is so graceful as she rolls her hips and starts to ride that impressive cock. You moan again, imagining being there with them, hearing them.

Oberyn chuckles when Ellaria clenches around him at the thought of both situations. “Don’t worry, my sun. We will find out.” He promises, certain that you’d accept an invitation. He squeezes her ass and playfully slaps her cheek when she rocks faster. “That’s it. Want you to soak my cock with your cum. Take what you need.” He grunts to his lover.

You pant, watching them as they move together. Craving the closeness and the intimacy in each kiss and touch. Even the slap of her ass is one made with affection and you cunt clenches around nothing, wondering what his touch would feel like.

Ellaria rocks a little faster, her breathing starting to pick up and Oberyn leans in to take her nipple into his mouth, his large hands splayed over her back, caressing her as she seeks her orgasm from his cock. “That’s it, lover. Keep going. Want you to cum for me.”

They are so elegant, even as they engage in the most crass or carnal activities. Making you whine and your own breast tingles like his mouth is on it instead of lavishing attention on her small breasts. Your rubbing turns harder, thighs pressing and pushing apart as you grind down.

Ellaria watches you in the mirror, her fingers gripping Oberyn’s shoulders as she works herself on his cock until she’s collapsing against him, her body shaking as her orgasm rocks through her. “That’s it, my love.” He murmurs, bracing his feet on the floor so he can thrust up into her, his jaw clenched.

She came. You know it. It’s so beautiful when she stiffens in his arms and collapses against him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whine, so close to cumming yourself as you watch him take over. His cock pumping into her cunt and you imagine that it’s you for a moment. It sends you over the edge and you cry out softly.

Oberyn grunts, lost in the lust of you watching him fuck his lover. Usually he’d last a couple of rounds but today, he’s eager to cum. He pants, his cock thrusting deep and hard into his partner. He knows she can take him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls, pushing deep when he stills. Cock twitching inside of her as he paints her walls with his seed.

Your eyes greedily watch as he stiffens, knowing he is cumming. Moaning softly, you can only imagine the bliss of how it feels. Relaxing and feeling guilty because of watching them again.

Oberyn groans as he relaxes beneath Ellaria, kissing along her neck until he playfully bites her chin. “You’re too good for me.” He murmurs, kissing her lips softly. “Don’t be ridiculous, my prince. That’s the sex talking.” She teases and he chuckles. “Should we let the girl know we know she’s watching us?” He asks, leaning back to raise his eyebrows. “Let’s.” Ellaria smirks, shifting off of his cock.

Now is the time that you hate yourself. Dragging your fingers out of your leggings, you vow that you won’t watch them again even though you know you will.

Neither Oberyn or Ellaria rush over to the window. They shower and redress, waiting until you’re relaxed on your sofa when Oberyn takes the notepad over to the window. He presses the pad to the glass so you can read it and smirks when he sees your eyes widen at his presence.

‘We know you’re watching’. Your face flames up and you feel like you are going to just die of embarrassment on the spot. They know! They have known…..but then again, if they have known, why didn’t they lower the automatic shades to conceal themselves. You feel bold and grab the notebook you have next to the chair to write a message back. ‘And you are good’ is what it reads as you hold it up to your own window.

Oberyn smirks at your response, glad that you’re not running away. Ellaria called it. You want them. More than anything. He chuckles and grabs his pen, scrawling out a message. ‘Do you want to join us?’ It reads and he awaits your response.

You’re dreaming. It has to be a dream. But if it’s a dream, you are damn sure you are going to have exactly what you want. You rush to pull your pen out of the sleeve in the front and write a message. ‘What apartment #?’

He quickly jots down the apartment number, showing it to you until you nod, and he writes again. ‘Come over in ten minutes.’ He writes and when you nod again, he walks off and finds Ellaria. “She is coming, my lover.” Oberyn murmurs as Ellaria exits the bedroom and he holds her waist, leaning in to kiss her shoulder.

You spend seven of the ten minutes showering. Shaving quickly and praying that you didn’t miss patches. Sliding into never used lingerie and asking yourself if you are really doing this, you let yourself out of your apartment without even looking out the window again, knowing you would lose your nerve if you did.

When the buzzer rings for the door, Oberyn walks over and lets you in. He glances over at Ellaria who has a sultry smile on her face and she watches as Oberyn opens the door after you ring the doorbell. “Hello.” Oberyn greets you, realizing how pretty you are up close.

“Hello.” He has a slight accent you cannot place and even more striking in person. His dark eyes are filled with amusement and intrigue, drawing you closer to him. You introduce yourself, not sure if they want to know your name honestly.

You’re nervous. Oberyn and Ellaria have shared partners before but it seems you haven’t if your nervous look is anything to go by. “Come in. I’m Oberyn and this gorgeous creature is my partner, Ellaria.” He gestures to the woman waiting at the end of the hall.

“Yes, she is.” You blurt out and then bite your lip. “You are, too. Gorgeous, I mean. Both of you are.” You laugh at yourself. “God, I can’t believe you caught me. I’m sorry- or I should be sorry. But I’m really not.”

Oberyn chuckles and shuts the door behind you after you walk over to Ellaria. “You’re not.” The woman declares, “but we love that. My lover and I…we have shared partners before. We are comfortable with you watching. Shit, my prince nearly came too fast when I told him you were watching us.” She winks at you, “you are welcome in our bed if you wish. Only if you wish.” She emphasizes, wanting you to be comfortable.

“Prince?” Your brow shoots up, surprised that she uses the same nickname you do. “Are you his Princess?”

“No. That’s reserved for his daughters.” Ellaria chuckles, “he has eight of them.” Your eyes widen and you glance back at Oberyn, and he grins. “I was wild in my younger days.” Ellaria tuts, “he still is.” Oberyn winks at her and walks down the hall to his partner. “We are being rude hosts. What would you like to drink, sweet girl?” He asks, “we have wine, whiskey, coffee, tea, water?”

“I’ll have what you will have.” You decide as you follow behind him like a lost puppy. “What do you like to drink before sex, during sex, after sex?”

Oberyn nods, “I have a beautiful red wine. My family…they are wine makers. I have a bottle of Dornish red. How does that sound?” He asks, walking over to the wine fridge while Ellaria gets the glasses.

You nod and watch them. “When you did know I was watching?” You ask curiously. “I had hoped I was more discreet. Obviously not, since I’m here.” You can’t be upset about that. Not when you will soon see how they both feel.

“We realized you were watching a few weeks ago. We have been trying to figure out if you wanted us or just wanted to watch us. Decided to take the chance today.” Ellaria confesses, handing you a glass of wine after Oberyn pours three. “What have you been thinking about while watching us?” Ellaria asks, reaching up to caress your cheek.

“How you taste.” You answer honestly, nearly moaning at the first touch of her skin shading yours. “How he feels. Being between you.”

Oberyn smirks as he takes a sip of his drink. "You want to taste her?" He asks and you nod, "yes." Your breathless response makes him chuckle. "Do you have any limits? We aren't dominating but I can manhandle sometimes." He murmurs, watching Ellaria step back from you so you can think.

“I don’t like waste play.” You murmur. “I don’t mind manhandling.” You admit. “I want to know what you sound like, I imagine how you would moan and grunt. You fuck gracefully.”

Oberyn smirks, watching Ellaria step closer to you. Your wine glass is still in your hand and she leans in, cupping your cheek. "You will find out." She promises, leaning in to softly press her lips to yours while Oberyn sips his wine.

The first kiss is making you sigh. The hand not holding the glass of wine quickly finds her narrow waist and holds onto it. In disbelief that you are here and getting to touch them, your tongue slides out to touch hers.

Ellaria slides her tongue against yours, her hand sliding around to cup the back of your head. Oberyn is happy to watch for now, enjoying the view of two beautiful women kissing. "How does she taste?" Oberyn asks you, "do you want to taste more?"

You honestly don’t want to break away, but you need to answer him. Pressing your lips to hers a few more times, you finally pull away. “Delicious.” You hum. “I want more. I’m greedy for everything you will give me, my prince.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, setting his glass of wine down, he makes his way over to you and Ellaria. Standing behind you, his hands find your waist and he grinds his hardening cock against your ass while he leans in to press kisses to your shoulder. “Keep kissing her.” Oberyn orders, “then I want to watch her take off her clothes.” He murmurs into your skin.

You whine quietly, nodding as you drag Ellaria’s lips back to yours. Needing the pressure of them against your own. You push back against his cock, loving how you’ve ended up sandwiched between the two gorgeous creatures. The strength in his touch is tempered by the softness of hers, Complimenting and balancing each other out.

Ellaria reaches for the hem of the pretty sundress you are wearing, breaking the kiss so she can reveal your body underneath. "Look, lover. She is a pretty little package." Ellaria coos when the dress hits the floor and your lingerie is exposed. Oberyn smirks, "what a divine set. Shame it is going to join your dress." He hums, his hands sliding along your back and he hooks his fingers in your bra straps, dragging them down your shoulders while leaning in to kiss the nape of your neck.

“Yesssss” you moan, tilting your head forward to let him kiss you however he wants. “It’s- whatever you want. I just want you to touch me.” You beg softly.

Oberyn slides his hands lower to unclasp your bra and Ellaria drags it down your arms, letting it drop to the floor and her eyes darken at the sight of your breasts. "Gorgeous." She exhales and leans in to kiss along your sternum and across the top of your breast until she is taking your nipple into her mouth.

“Oh god.” You pant out, leaning back against Oberyn who lifts your breast up so Ellaria can suckle. Feeling like you are in the middle of the most erotic dream you have ever had. “I- fuck, I knew you both would be amazing.” You praise.

Ellaria bites down your nipple before she switches over, making you whimper, and she smirks against your skin. "She's a good lover." Oberyn compliments Ellaria, "and she loves feasting on a delicious pussy." His hand slides lower to cup you through your lace panties.

His hands are fucking massive. You had assumed so because of how he looked with his hand on his lover, but there was no account for how he cups you. Covering the swollen lips of your cunt completely and it makes you whine loudly, a wordless cry of pleasure. Letting both of them touch and tease you as they want.

Oberyn slides his hand under the elastic of your panties, finding your clit, and he chuckles at your whimper as he starts to rub. “She’s so wet, my sun.” Oberyn coos to Ellaria who kisses down your stomach. Her fingers hook in your panties and she drags them down, exposing Oberyn’s hand rubbing your bundle of nerves.

They have done this before, it’s obvious in the silent coordination. They move together to strip you down and expose your body to their gazes. “Oh fuck.” You whisper, looking down to find her smirking up at you. Kneeling and lifting your leg onto her shoulder before she slides her tongue along Oberyn’s finger and your clit.

Oberyn smirks at your reaction, kissing along your neck as you lean back against him. Ellaria’s tongue slides around your clit, Oberyn’s hand shifting to squeeze your breast so his lover can properly taste you.

Your fingers slide along her jaw and your other hand reaches back to sink into Oberyn’s hair. Using them to anchor yourself so you don’t float away. The irony of being in front of the same windows that you were watching them through isn’t lost on you and it just makes your cunt clench even more. Turning your head, you kiss Oberyn jaw. “Kiss me.” You demand.

He doesn’t deny you. He presses his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. Ellaria continues to lap at your clit and you gasp into Oberyn’s mouth, his tongue dominating as he slides it against yours. His fingers pinch your nipples and he groans when you reach behind you to squeeze his cock through his pants.

His cock is large. You already knew that, but the distance had minimized how thick he is. Making you moan into his mouth when you squeeze him again and he twitches against your palm. Ellaria’s tongue is magic, flicking and licking like you have never been licked before. She’s obviously practiced and you can’t find yourself anything but envious of the other lovers for having her attention before now.

Ellaria closes her eyes as she laps at you, reaching around to unbutton Oberyn’s pants, allowing you to pull his cock out. “Shit.” He hisses at the way you immediately squeeze him. He grunts as you start to pump him and Ellaria hums around your clit.

You need more, greedy for it. Your hips push down, begging for more as you pump Oberyn’s cock. His mouth covers yours again, swallowing your moans as the two of them work to tear you apart at the very seam.

Oberyn groans into your mouth when you pump him a little faster. Ellaria laps at your clit and you whine into Oberyn’s mouth until he pulls away. “That’s it, baby. Cum for her. Cum for us.” He demands, pinching your nipples again.

You’re already teetering on the edge. You have been since Ellaria began her gentle and skilled assault on your clit. Building you up so quickly that you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been edged. How your body screams for release. Permission granted, you fall over the edge as he twists your nipples sharply, screaming out in their arms.

Oberyn chuckles against your jaw as you cum, slumping slightly against him. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Mierda. So pretty when she cums.” He says to Ellaria as she laps at your clit, sliding her tongue between your folds to taste you. “She’s delicious.” She coos, letting your leg down and she stands up, pressing her lips to Oberyn’s so he can taste your tangy cum on her lips. He groans, cupping the back of her neck to taste you from her mouth.

“Let me-“ you pant breathless, watching them kiss and despite the fact that you just came, you want more. Your hands reach out to cup her small breasts and you squeeze them. “Fuck you are so beautiful.”

“Do you want to taste her?” Oberyn asks after pulling his lips away from Ellaria. “Do you wish to lick her cunt while I fuck yours?” He hums, sliding his hands down to squeeze both yours and Ellaria’s ass cheeks in each hand.

“Oh shit.” You whine, cunt clenching desperately at the idea. “I think- that’s- yessssss.” You can’t even articulate how badly you want that. How you want to be completely surrounded by them and lost in their world of pleasure. “I’m clean.” You pant. “I want- cum inside me.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness. “We are clean too.” Oberyn trusts you. He’s had enough experience to know when someone is lying. “You are on birth control?” Oberyn asks, kissing your shoulder up to your neck. “I-IUD.” You manage to choke out and Oberyn bites down on your pulse. “Ellaria, my love, strip and go lay down on the bed. This one wants to taste your sweet nectar.” Oberyn reaches around to playfully smack the ass of his partner. “And you, lay next to her while I strip. I want you to kneel.”

You watch Ellaria while she untangles herself from the two of you and saunters into the bedroom. “She is gorgeous, is she not?” Oberyn whispers in your ear. “I can tell, you do not know who you are more interested in. Myself or my lover.” He slides his hand down to rub your clit again. “So you will have both of us. We will take every drop of pleasure you will give us.” You whine breathlessly and nod, closing your eyes.

Ellaria lays down on the bed, now naked and you moan at the sight of her golden glowing skin on display like a goddess. One you want to worship. She crooks her finger at you, beckoning you over, and you waste no time shifting to lay beside her after Oberyn releases you from his grip. You whimper as Ellaria kisses you and Oberyn starts to unbutton his half buttoned shirt, exposing the rest of his chest.

They are so gorgeous. Beautiful in masculine and feminine forms, and so incredibly erotic that it makes your skin tingle. Your hands drift over Ellaria’s body, caressing in and squeezing while you watch Oberyn undress from the corner of your eye.

Oberyn pushes his pants down, feet bare as he steps out of them, and he smirks when your eyes widen as you get a good look at his hard cock. “Kneel on the bed. I want to fuck you.” He orders, his voice demanding yet sensual. Ellaria kisses you one last time and playfully smacks your thigh to silently demand you kneel.

Completely naked, he still looks regal and imposing. Making you feel as if you are kneeling before royalty, although you doubt you would be displaying your wet cunt to a king. You shift your thighs apart, arching your back slightly to make sure he can see how you are dripping as you kneel between Ellaria’s gracefully long legs.

Oberyn caresses your ass as he kneels on the bed behind you. "Too fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "going to see how tight that pussy is." He chuckles, gripping his cock as he shuffles closer.

“Been a long time.” You admit quietly, drinking in the sight of Ellaria’s wet folds. “But I want to make sure your lover enjoys herself too.” You lean in and dive into her cunt with enthusiasm.

Ellaria moans as you slide your tongue through her folds. Oberyn watches her face and his cock twitches in his grip as he slides the head through your wet folds. You’re soaking wet. He pushes into you, slowly, and your moan vibrates against Ellaria’s clit.

He stretches you out, making you gasp in pleasure as you lurch forward. His hips flat against your ass when he’s buried deep. Your tongue flicks over Ellaria’s clit, curling up and then pressing against the bundle of nerves while you push back against the feeling of being impaled.

Oberyn groans as you clench around him. “She’s so tight, my love.” Oberyn coos to his partner. “Tighter than we thought she would be.” He confesses as he starts to move inside of you. Ellaria watches as her lover takes you from behind, her eyes flicking down to watch you as you lap at her clit.

You moan, clenching around him at the idea they had talked about you, wondering about you. Perhaps while Ellaria was sitting on his cock. They had been watching you as well. You suck on her clit and squeeze her thighs. Loving how she rolls her hips down and watches as Oberyn starts to rock into you.

Ellaria moans when you push your tongue inside of her and Oberyn smirks at the look on her face. “She’s done this before. She’s a good girl, isn’t she, my sun? Sucking on your perfect little clit like the voyeuristic whore she is.” He hums playfully, gripping your hips as he starts to rock a little faster.

You whimper and take every thrust of his hips, pushing you into Ellaria. You love it, holding onto her hip and devouring her as you clench around her lover's cock. You are a voyeuristic whore, their whore. You will do anything for them and they’ve barely touched you. Already marking you as theirs while you share their bed.

“She’s enjoying this, lover.” Ellaria purrs as you lap at her clit, making her chest heave with pleasure. “She is. She’s clenching around me.” Oberyn coos, caressing your hips. “She’s greedy. I love it.” He chuckles and thrusts a little harder, pushing you more into his partner’s cunt and you moan into her folds.

She tastes wonderful, tangy and musky. Making you addicted to the slick arousal that seeps from her like honey, thick and luscious on your tongue. His cock shreds up inside you, searching with small adjustments, for that perfect spot until you are crying out when he finds it.

“That’s it.” Oberyn grins victoriously. “Take what I give you, baby.” He grunts, rocking against that spot over and over. “El, I want you to cum for us.” He demands, looking over at his lover. “Cum on her pretty tongue.”

Your nipples harden at the intensity in his tone, eyes watching her and you can see that she's responding to his commands. Her body priming itself to cum just like he wants her to and you double down on the flicks of your tongue, wanting to make her fall apart.

It takes a few more seconds before Ellaria falls over the edge. Her moan echoing in the bedroom and she tilts her head back as she cums. Oberyn smirks as he watches her, loving seeing her pleasure. “You did a good job, baby.” Oberyn compliments you as you work her through it. “She loves it. Look at her face.” He says, grabbing the back of your neck to bring your head up to watch her.

He’s pulsing inside if you, not cumming, just throbbing as he holds you so you can watch Ellaria. Obviously enjoying the sight of his lover’s pleasure himself. Holding still inside you until she is slumped down onto the bed in a pool of limbs and moans.

Oberyn wants you to cum too. He pulls out of you and flips you over, Ellaria’s arms opening to pull you into her lap as Oberyn lifts your legs up onto his forearms. “Want to see your face when you cum.” He smirks, pumping his cock until he’s pushing back inside of you. Ellaria’s hands find your tits, squeezing them and her lips press against your neck while Oberyn watches.

They are completely overwhelming you in the best possible ways. Oberyn’s cock is thick and heavy inside you, starting to move again. “Oh fuck.” You might like looking up at him more than the way his cock feels when he has you from behind. “So good.”

“He’s like a prince. So regal.” Ellaria hums as she kisses your ear while her eyes focus on Oberyn. His jaw is clenched and he squeezes your thighs as he pushes into you, adjusting the angle on each thrust until you cry out. “There it is, lover.” Ellaria coos, her hand snaking down to rub your clit.

“He is.” You pant, nodding agreement as your nipples harden even more. His cock rocking into you and her delicate fingers on your clit is proving to be the most delicious form of torture. “I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out, feeling your body starting to tighten in anticipation.

“Do it. Cum for us.” Ellaria hums, pinching your clit and that sends you over the edge. You clamp down on Oberyn’s cock and he hisses in delight, loving the way you moan his name followed by Ellaria’s. “Mierda. She’s so tight.” Oberyn grunts as your walls flutter around him while you soak him with your orgasm.

The praise makes you keen, the words sounds of pleasure ripping out of your throat as you nearly black out. Feeling him start to slow down his thrusts, you open your eyes in confusion.

He pulls out of you when you relax against Ellaria. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He explains, his cock shiny with your cream and he smirks, shifting to lay down beside you and Ellaria who wastes no time pressing her lips to his. You whimper and Ellaria chuckles as she pulls back from Oberyn, grabbing your neck to push you towards him and his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, his hand squeezing your thigh. “I want you to ride my face while Ellaria rides my cock.” He demands, his cock still hard against his belly.

You moan into his mouth, nodding eagerly. They have completely taken over your senses and you will do anything they want. Sliding back so you can let Oberyn lay back. Leaning over to kiss Ellaria before she straddles his hips.

Oberyn groans as Ellaria sinks down on his cock and he desperately wants you to sit on his face. You don’t deny him as you shift to straddle his chest, shuffling back so you can hover over his face and he quickly pulls you down so your weight is on his mouth.

Oberyn is just as eager of a lover as Ellaria is. His fingers dig into your hips and his tongue is immediately pushing into your soaked walls. Making you cry out in his eagerness to devour you. Blowing past all your imagined scenarios and ideas of what would happen if you were ever with the two of them.

Ellaria reaches out to squeeze your tits as she bounces on Oberyn’s cock like she’s done many times. Oberyn twitches inside of her as she clenches around him and his tongue flicks over your clit, wanting you to grind down on him. His hands squeeze your hips to encourage you to move.

You lean forward, cupping her tits as well, tangling your tongue with hers in a frantic kiss. Your hips start to roll as you ride his tongue, the whiskers of his neat thin beard and mustache rubbing against you wonderfully.

He laps at your clit, loving the way you grind down onto him and Ellaria slides her tongue with yours, her moans smothered by your lips as she rides her partner in a well practiced dance. “Fuck.” Ellaria pants as she pulls back from your lips, her back arching as she grips your shoulders to work herself harder on Oberyn’s cock.

You whine, watching up close and in person the scene that had you in a chokehold since they have moved in. Watching as she rides him and now, you feel his tongue flicking against your clit as he pleasures you at the same time as his lover. It’s everything decadent and wicked, making you wish they had signaled you earlier.

Oberyn groans when he feels how close Ellaria is, his cock twitching inside of her, and he hisses when she starts to cum, clamping down on his cock. His fingers dig into your flesh as he works his jaw wider, tongue lapping at more of you. He’s desperate for you to cum and Ellaria slumps forward against you as she shakes on his cock.

You almost pull away from his tongue, nearly overstimulated by the way his mouth works over your cunt. The pure bliss on Ellaria’s face nearly makes you cum again, and it only takes a few more flicks of Oberyn’s tongue before you are crying out a garbled combination of their names.

Oberyn works you through it, Ellaria caressing your back and kissing along your neck as she shudders through the aftermath of her pleasure. Oberyn groans when Ellaria pulls off of his cock and kneels beside his body, “want us to suck your cock?” She hums, “my lover adores his cock being sucked.” She coos and trails her finger along the slick and creamy velvet of Oberyn’s length. He groans when you lift off of his face and kneel on the other side of his body.

“He deserves to have his cock sucked.” You agree, reaching out to swipe your finger through the juices that are gathered on the tip. Thrilled that all three of you are combined so beautifully. “He has made us cum so thoroughly on it, it deserves to be worshiped.”

Ellaria nods, gripping the base of Oberyn’s cock and he shifts to his elbows to watch two beautiful women work to make him cum. “Suck on the tip. He loves that.” She orders and you do as she says, leaning in to take the tip into your mouth. He groans and Ellaria leans in, her tongue sliding down the length until she is taking his balls into her mouth and rolling them with her tongue. “Fuckkkk.” Oberyn groans, his eyes closing for a second before he opens them.

It’s hedonistic, the way both of you are showering him in pleasure. Like you are whores in a brothel focused on his pleasure alone and it makes you want to make this the best experience he has ever had. Moaning around the tip as you suck greedily.

Oberyn reaches down to caress your cheek before he strokes Ellaria’s head. “Fuck. You two - so cock hungry. My little cock drunk whores.” He chuckles and his stomach clenches as you suck him a little deeper.

Your cunt bottoms out around nothing, aching despite the fact that you’ve already cum three times. Feeling like you might never get enough of these two. Your hand pumps what you aren’t sucking on until Ellaria’s clever mouth starts to work back up from his balls.

Oberyn hisses when Ellaria mouths the side of his cock while you work the tip. His dark eyes taking in the sight of both beautiful women and he hisses when you hollow your cheeks. “That’s it. Shit.” He groans when Ellaria slides her tongue higher to tangle with yours as she laps at the slit.

You’ve never kissed someone with a cock in your mouth but now you love it. Enjoying the way he hisses and his hips buck up to thrust into the space that your tongues are twirling around him. Moaning at the lewdness of the moment and wishing you have a video of this incredible night.

"Fuck. You're going to make me cum." Oberyn warns as you and Ellaria push him further to the edge. Your tongue tangles around the head and your hand rolls his balls while Ellaria pumps the rest of his length. "Mierda. I'm going to - fuckkkkk." He groans as he starts to cum, his hot seed hitting yours and Ellaria's lips.

You don’t try to take his cock down your throat, enjoying the way he spurts his seed over both of your faces and chins. Leaning forward when he’s finally done to kick it from Ellaria’s face with a pleased hum while a breathless Oberyn watches.

Oberyn slumps against the bed for a moment, closing his eyes as he relishes in his orgasm, loving the way you and Ellaria lick his cum off each other’s faces. “So fucking pretty.” He coos, reaching out to caress your lips before he caresses Ellaria’s.

You like his praises, smiling at them both while your body just hums at the satisfying thrill of your orgasms. “That was incredible.” You whisper, knowing that you should probably dress and go back to your apartment.

“It was. We would love to have you here again…if you wish.” Ellaria says, stroking your back. You both shift to lay on either side of Oberyn as he holds his arms out for you both to curl into. “My lover wants more of you.” Oberyn chuckles, “so do I.” He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “join us again.” He murmurs his request.

It will be the easiest request you’ve ever agreed to. Reaching across him to caress Ellaria’s side as you kiss Oberyn’s chest. “As often as you wish.” You promise. No longer just a voyeur, you will be the one to be envied when someone else watches through the windows.

#pedro pascal #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #oberyn martell x f!reader x ellaria sand #oberyn martell x you x ellaria sand #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #ellaria sand x reader #ellaria sand x you #ellaria sand x f!reader #modern oberyn martell

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is-the-snake-video-cute · 1 year ago

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whats the difference between a viper and python ?

Important question, thank you for asking! Those are two of the major snake families; I know you only asked about two, but I'll discuss the big ones!

Pythons are a family of non-venomous constrictors. They're primitive snakes, meaning they have less stretchy skulls than modern families and they still have the vestigial remnants of a pelvic girdle. Pythons all have heat pits (except for the two members of the genus Aspidites) and those pits are set into the scales on their lips. Ball pythons, Burmese pythons, and rock pythons are all examples of snakes in the python family!

Boas are also non-venomous, primitive constrictors, and are closely related to pythons. They're distinguished, though, by having a couple fewer bones in their skulls and less teeth. When they have heat pits, they're between the scales instead of in them, and they're generally ovoviviparous and give live birth instead of laying eggs. Boa constrictors, anacondas, and rainbow boas are examples of this family!

Vipers are modern, venomous snakes. They have fewer bones in their skulls and less teeth than boas and pythons, and they lack vestigial pelvic girdles. Vipers tend to have primarily hemotoxic venom, and they're often heavy-bodied. When they have heat pits, they're located on their cheeks. Their fangs are hinged and swing out. Rattlesnakes, tree vipers, sand vipers, and copperheads are all members of the viper family!

Elapids are modern, venomous snakes who tend to have primarily neurotoxic venom. They tend to be diurnal and more slender than vipers, and lack heat pits. Their fangs are always set into position. Cobras, mambas, and sea snakes are members of the elapid family!

Colubrids are a large family of modern snakes. Most colubrids are non-venomous, and those who aren't are rear-fanged venomous, with a less sophisticated venom delivery system than elapids and vipers. They're a very diverse family of snakes! Hognose snakes, garter snakes, watersnakes, and ratsnakes are examples of colubrids!

There are other snake families, but those five are the really big ones. Understanding the differences means you also understand a lot of the commonalities and distinctions between common snakes!

#not rating #snake families

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thelaithlyworm · 6 months ago

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Daomu Biji Watcher’s Guide, May 2024

A few new entries have been popping up lately, and I’m always hopeful new fans will stumble into the pits and never leave so I thought I’d paste up a rough map.

(Obviously the best watching order, like the best reading order of Discworld or the Aubrey-Maturin books, is ‘whatever first comes to your hand’ but for the people who don’t like that…)

tl;dr:

Daomu Biji is a series about tomb raiding. Think Indiana Jones or Lara Croft but much, much longer. The protagonist Wu Xie is deeply in love with BFF1 Zhang Qiling, a hundred-year-old cryptid, and BFF2 Wang Pangzi, who was stolen in a raid from another book series. It’s comic, tragic, horrific, zany, prone to musings on life, love, desire, attachment, and has many, many piss jokes. (‘Journey to the West but modern’ is maybe the other comparison I’d make.)

Notes:

– This guide is not talking about “quality”. All of the adaptations have their own strengths and weaknesses and tone can vary a great deal, which is to say, if one of them doesn’t suit you it’s likely something else will.

– Wacky endings, and plot threads that disappear unfinished and get picked up a long time later, are as inherent to the franchise as the piss jokes.

– It’s common for the dramas to introduce characters and subplots a lot earlier than the books do. Sometimes we’ll see a character introduced ‘for the first time’ on multiple occasions and strangely familiar scenes. I’ll try to point out the biggest continuity clashes as I go.

The Soft Entry:

There are a few movies that are entertaining as standalones but will introduce various characters and background. I would recommend:

Escape from the Monstrous Snake + Mystery/Grave of the Abyss – two monster movies featuring Hei Xiazi, a supporting character. He’s a pragmatical mercenary who’s going blind in kind of a weird way, and goofy as hell when he isn’t tiptoeing over a vast abyss of existential dread. So many fun action scenes.

Time Raiders (2015) – so there are some textual clues that late in his career Wu Xie wrote this story as a memory-jogger for an amnesiac friend. The plot is a freewheeling wild ride which doesn’t directly match any book plot but introduces some major characters and how they relate to each other. It’s colourful and fast-moving. Enjoy, enjoy.

Conjuring Curse and Misty Creed are… theoretically set late in the series even if the actors look about twelve. Both work as stand-alone adventures, though Misty Creed is maybe a little deep in the lore. Again, colourful and fast-moving.

The Chronological Order

You could honestly start with most of these – they tend to come with a ‘what has gone before’ at the start or a newbie character that things get explained to. The only one I wouldn’t start with is Heavenly Palace in the Clouds, which is lovely but also the second half of a set and things won’t make sense if you haven’t seen Lost Tomb 2 first.

Lost Tomb 1 – a highly digestible 10-12 episode version of the Seven Star Lu Palace arc, ie. Baby’s First Adventure. Introduces A-Ning, Xie Yuchen, and Huo Xiuxiu early and a couple of og characters for Wu Xie to talk to instead of monologuing to himself. The restaurant scene at the end was raided from a later arc and you’ll see it again in Ultimate Note. A book character, Da Kui, was cut which is a small problem because how he died is a minor plot point discussed in Lost Tomb 2.

Lost Tomb 2 – covers Raging Sea, Hidden Sands (underwater tomb) and Qinling God-Tree (weird bronze tree in the mountains) plus a whole lotta side stories and original content exploring the world and foreshadowing later plots. Mooostly in continuity with Lost Tomb 1 (see Da Kui above) and made as a set with Heavenly Palace in the Clouds – they share resources and a lot of actors, and some threads begun here are finished in Heavenly Palace.

Heavenly Palace in the Clouds – covers the Mt Changbai arc, a journey up a mountain to find a very old, very grand tomb. This was made so close to Lost Tomb 2 that LT2 borrows shots from Heavenly Palace and not the other way around, which is fascinating because it pointedly contradicts the last five episodes of LT2. It also brings forward some plotlines originally from the Tamutuo and Zhang Family Old Pavilion arcs (San-shu’s past in the underwater tomb, and the Huo Family videotapes) dragging some characters on-screen and forcing them to talk about their feelings, which they would clearly rather die than do. Given those plot-tweaks and the early, deliberate continuity clash, I’m tempted to call this a Canon Parallel Universe. Got some interestingly chewy character dynamics and luverly, luverly set design.

Mystic Nine – This is a prequel about Zhang Qishan – Fo-ye – and his peers, but later dramas expect us to know who Fo-ye was so I’m sticking it here. Kinda… picaresque? Lots of action scenes and Republican-era flavour and various factions jostling for power – kinda feels like an old-school wuxia story, only set in the 1930s with all that glorious Republican-era styling. Has some unfortunate cut scenes – the details of how Fo-ye recovered at his family’s house don’t make a lot of sense in the aired version, and there are a couple of missing fights in the penultimate episode. Shrug. Still a lot of fun. Comes with four side movies about supporting characters.

Ultimate Note – Covers the Tamutuo arc (a trip through the jungle) and two-thirds of the Zhang Family Old Pavilion arc (investigating Zhang Qiling’s past is like kicking a hornet’s nest). Very, very flirty and has some zippy-zip action choreography. Politely ignores Lost Tomb 1–Heavenly Palace continuity (Xie Yuchen is, once more, introduced for the first time, now with a romantically coded friendship arc) and brings in a lot of cameos from Mystic Nine and Sand Sea, which it was filmed after. Kinda tiptoes around parts of the book plot, which I suspect would be hard for anyone to film, re: Fo-ye’s actions in the 1960s. Fair warning, this ends on a cliffhanger. This is also where the Xinyue Restaurant scene appears again – two cakes!

Tibetan Sea Flower – If Tibetan Sea Flower ever airs, it will go here.

Sand Sea – Based on the Sand Sea novel. After Tibetan Sea Flower, Wu Xie goes into a bit of a decline and makes that the world’s problem. We the audience, plus Li Cu and Liang Wan, EDIT: a lovely doctor, are pretty much dropped in media res into a number of ancient conspiracies and complicated plots coming to a head in the manner of a boil. It’s weird; it’s messy; it’s mad fun. Like Mystic Nine, has a lot of factions jostling for power and colourful jianghu characters. We will, once more, see the Xinyue Restaurant scene. Also has some side movies.

Time Raiders – The textual hints that suggest Wu Xie wrote this, suggest he wrote it around Sand Sea-era, when his life was a bit complicated. I’m putting it after Sand Sea because I believe it caps a conversation that, ah, doesn’t quite make it into the drama. But notionally this is where it should go. Ah…. at one point, someone tells a story about an ancient ruler, King Mu of Zhou, who sought immortality from the Queen of the West in Tamutuo. The longer book conversation suggests that a) King Mu of Zhou engineered a “trap” for someone like Wu Xie to fall into in the future, and b) that Iron Mask Scholar, a villain from Lost Tomb 1, was an alias that King Mu of Zhou used in the Warring States Era. Which makes some of Iron Mask Scholar’s appearances in Time Raiders… interesting.

Reunion: Sound of Providence – sometimes known as Reboot. Having peaked in badassery in Sand Sea, Wu Xie has to consider what his life is going to be now, and also, he would like to track down a missing family member. So this was tweaked to make it more accessible to new viewers (so some parts of the back-story are not mentioned or conflated for simplicity) and that mostly works but I did find watching this first and then picking up the earlier dramas a bit of a mindscrew. Zhu Yilong is, however, a powerful draw and the rest of the cast sparkles. Probably best to think of Season 1 as two short seasons jammed together, which is to say, once the Warehouse 11 arc starts there are a number of characters who won’t reappear until Season 2. It’s a fun arc even so. Season 2 ends with a badass action scene and then a big party, which I think is a great way to end a story.

Escape from the Monstrous Snake, Mystery/Grave of the Abyss, Conjuring Curse, Misty Creed – these are all theoretically set around or after Reboot-era, though they can certainly be watched as stand-alones.

#daomu biji #dmbj #the lost tomb #lost tomb 2 #heavenly palace in the clouds #mystic nine #ultimate note #sand sea #sound of providence #conjuring curse #misty creed #escape from the monstrous snake #mystery of the abyss

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centurydraws · 2 months ago

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NightWing headcanons!!!

so I know NightWings are one of the most developed tribes in canon, but I feel like they could use something more. We barely know anything about any tribe's day to day life, common jobs, ancient practices, or religions. So, I'm going to make a few posts about my headcanons and ideas about every tribe. Feel free to use these in stories or for designs, credit is appreciated but not required.

DESIGNS

NightWings have goat eyes

They also have oryx / ram horns

Their horns have to grow in, similar to teeth (this is a headcanon I have for every tribe, not just exclusive to NightWings)

It's possible for them to have star patterns like under their wings in other spots, star freckles and birthmarks are the most common

NightWings will scar their scales instead of getting tattoos, due to their usually very dark colors

CULTURE

When albino dragonets were hatched, they were seen as bad luck in some regions and would be killed. This has changed recently, though

NightWings used to sacrifice wolves and cattle for good luck on the new year, but this ceased soon after the NightWings moved to the volcano island, because of the lack of wolves and grazing ground for cattle.

Snakes are a sacred symbol for NightWings, and dragons can commonly be seen with snake scars and/or snake jewelry.

The reason snakes are sacred is because of an influx of SandWing refugees during an ancient, bloody but short-lived civil war.

NightWings used to have a profession called a nameteller, a future seeing NightWing who was trained to look into the future of specific dragons, and would give name suggestions for eggs and newly hatched dragonets. This job is resurfacing, though slowly.

NightWings used to believe that blind dragons would have stronger mind reading and future sight. They were half right, but after a trend of blinding dragonets to give them stronger abilities turned out to be useless, this belief faded away.

NightWings are naturally more anxious during the day, which is hypothesized to have been a factor in the poor health of the NightWings when they lived on the volcano island.

NightWings are kind of the Germany of the wof universe (wofverse??), they like efficiency and have really disturbing dragonet's tales.

One of said dragonet's tales is one where a fledgeling wandered too close to the ocean alone when the adults said not to, and got eaten alive by the sea.

TOWNS, CITIES AND TRADE

NightWings typically name areas after their founders, or after the dragon who discovered there. Major NightWing exports are goat's milk and cheese, wool, and wine. Think anything desired by nobles to eat, and the NightWings probably manufacture it. There are a few important places, such as:

KINDNESS: Named for its founder, this large city is located in a valley on the border with the Sand Kingdom, and was one of the places SandWing refugees fled to during the Serpent's Fang war (the ancient sandwing civil war mentioned before). In the modern era, it is still occupied by many SandWings, and Night/Sand hybrids are a common sight. It is known for its many vineyards right outside the city gates, and is said to produce some of the best wine in Pyrrhia.

AVOIDED: This isolated village sits in the harsh, jagged cliffs facing the southwestern ocean. The village isn't on top of the land, but beneath it, with its entrance in a hidden cave. Its inhabitants have lived there for generations, fishing and gathering mushrooms. They did not go with the rest of the tribe to the volcano island, and instead opted to hide away and preserve their culture. The best nametellers come from here.

BATTLECRY: A bustling city which manufactures weapons, armor, and has the best NightWing military academies. It has multiple walls, one thick inner and two outer, which are equipped with advanced technology to ward off attackers. It is a valuable target in war, but no other tribe has managed to get past it, since it is in the middle of the kingdom, protecting the capitol.

DIVINE: Rumored to be where the moons first blessed the NightWings with their powers, this is the religious center of the NightWing kingdom. They manufacture texts and are responsible for spreading information across the continent. When the NightWings moved to the volcano island, Divine's bards became assassins, skilled at spreading lies.

#wings of fire #wof #wof headcanon #headcanon #nightwings

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snapdragonessart · 2 months ago

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Ancient dentition time! Descriptions under cut~

Aberrations are meant to be an ever-changing species, and mutate slightly each time they return to the cauldron. I imagine each time their dentition would change slightly as well. For this generation, their teeth would be most similar to dinosaurian raptors. They have that long muzzle that velociraptors in particular are well known for, but the number/size of their teeth varies. Each head could have different dentition too; eg. one would have all uniform teeth while the other would have long canines. Unlike velociraptors, Aberrations are omnivorous and will eat anything, but this kind of fits with their whole “becoming stronger” thing.

Aethers are… a tricky species to pin down. They’re cat-moth-dragons with the diet of a small lizard - insects and plants. Although their diet is more similar to geckos, based on their art I think their teeth would be a mix between gecko and domestic cat; they wouldn’t have molars and premolars, but they’d have feline-like front canines and incisors. The rest of their teeth would be enlarged, dragon-ified versions of a gecko’s itty bitty conical teeth.

Auraboas next! Although they definitely were designed more with boas in mind based on the name and their body shape, all boas are nonvenomous. There are some species of constricting snakes that are venomous as well, such as those in the genus Ovophis (mountain pit vipers; found in Asia) and Pseudonaja (Australian elapids), so with all that considered Auraboas probably have a mix of boa and pit viper dentition. They’d have fangs for injecting their venom, and sharp, recurved teeth behind the fangs and on the lower jaw.

Banescales are yet another hard species to assign a real-life counterpart to. They look like what you’d see if you searched up “wyvern” in the dictionary, the perfect quintessential example of one. They eat seafood, insects and meat. Their head shape brings dinosaurs to mind, specifically dromaeosaurs (raptors) and small tyrannosaurs. With all this in mind, I think their teeth would be closely packed and serrated, similar to both dinosaur groups. As shown in their art, they’d also have caniniformes (canine-like teeth).

Dusthides look like skinks to me, specifically desert skinks and night skinks. Like skinks, Dusthides dig and burrow, and prefer to stay underground. Skinks are insectivorous too, so they’re a perfect match! Dusthides would have conical teeth like skinks, with caniniformes.

Gaolers are a weird mish-mash of different animals. They have moose-like antlers, reptilian faces and feet, and big fluffy tails that really remind me of snow leopards or arctic foxes, not to mention those paw pads on their wings. Since they eat both meat and plants, I think they’re teeth would be like an arctic foxes; one of the only omnivores native to the Arctic circle. Their canines would be larger though, more similar to snow leopards.

Sandsurges, similar to Dusthides, prefer living underground and are expert burrowers. Unlike Dusthides, they can actually swim through the sand. Their behaviour is similar to the sandfish skink, known for its ability to swim through sand. Their fans call to mind several species of sail-backed extinct animals - like dimetrodon - and also the modern basilisk lizard. Lastly, their concept seems to be based off of “sand sharks”; a group of fantasy sharks that swim through sand, but also a real group of mackerel sharks known to swim in shallow waters. However, the dentition of sand sharks doesn't really fit with Sandsurges; these sharks have 3 rows of sharp teeth that stick out in multiple directions, very much unlike the art depicting the dragon. I think the Sandsurge’s dentition would be a mix of basilisk and great white shark; both animals have serrated saw-like teeth. Their diet would be more akin to the basilisk, which eats both meat and insects. They’d also have caniniformes.

Undertides, our serpentine friends, are based off of moray eels! They pull from several species, particularly the ribbon eel (specifically the protrusions on the lower jaw) and the giant moray. They have large razor sharp teeth and, like real moray eels, would have a hidden pharyngeal jaw!

At last we arrive at Veilspuns, which were by far the hardest one for me to figure out. They’re like… fairy kelpie deer dragons?? With their ears, horns and snout shape in mind, I think their molars and premolars would be most similar to the marsh deer of South America. Seeing as they also eat flesh and bugs in addition to plants, they’d also have sharp elongated canines; similar to how kelpies are usually depicted in art.

Thanks to everyone who put in their input on what Veilspuns most looked like! Deer and horse definitely seem like the two most likely creatures for their inspiration.

I hope y’all enjoyed this series! I’ve been thinking of doing sheets going into each dragon breed's body plan (and also some headcanons of mine) if that is of any interest! ^^

#flight rising #fr

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 7 months ago

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 19

MASTAPOST

Danny woke from his little cat nap soon after, stretching his tail out like a lounging snake. Damian sat next to him, characteristically unimpressed as the teenager cracked his knuckles and shook off the remaining grogginess.

“Are you done?” Damian asked.

Danny yawned again. “Yeah what time is it?”

“It has been about two hours. We are wasting time.”

Damian swam to Danny’s left side and nudged him with his head. Danny bonelessly flopped to the side without moving. “Dude, what’s the rush? I thought you liked animals.”

“The whales have been amenable company, but my father needs me back as soon as possible. In addition, we have entered a coral reef.”

Danny blinked, and got up. The boy leaned his head over the edge of the mother whale. Seemed Damian was right. The waterscape in front of them was filled with tall kelp forests in the distance. Below the, the sea floor housed miles of vibrant coral in all sorts of colours. Red, purple, yellow and green coral spiraled and twisted and grew from the rocks and sand, living alongside schools of big and small fish. Clownfish peeked in an out of anemones. Little critters like shrimps and lobsters crawled in and out of crevices, sheltered from predators.

Damian apparently thought he was taking too long. Danny belatedly realised his harness was untied, just as Damian rammed into his back and pushed him off the edge.

“We need to replenish our supplies.” Damian said. “Teach me how to gather forage and hunt.”

Well that was a slight issue. Being a modern American teenager with access to such things as fridges and a global supply chain meant that he was perhaps less suited to roughing it than the younger boy might have assumed. It was not like he never had to live off the land, but the less said about long swim home after Vlad happened, the better.

“Well?” Damian repeated, arms crossed, looking down Danny expectantly.

“Alright then. I’ll teach you silly human what it’s like to live off the land, like your ancestors long before you.” He said sagely.

The whale pod crooned a deep farewell as the continued on their journey. He and Damian waved them off, before returning to their own needs.

He led his young charge to perch atop a cliff overlooking the reef. The boys laid their fins flat so as to avoid drawing attention. Danny scanned the landscape, settling his eyes on a lobster hiding underneath a rock. Despite their reputation these days, lobsters did not look nearly as appetising raw and alive. From the bottom, they looked more like cockroaches than delicacies. Plus, they were literally the worst possible travelling food ever. No.

Instead, Danny caught sight of his real prize. Mussels!

“You good with shellfish?” He asked the younger boy. Damian turned up his nose, looking haughty like Sam’s parents were it not for the adorable pout he’d put on too.

“If the only other option is starvation.”

“We’ll keep an eye for more plants on the way.” Danny said, preparing to descend.

The thing about mussels was that you didn’t need to kill them to bring them along. They came with their own natural packaging, even if it was a bit heavy. Danny stuffed his pockets with a couple handfuls of the shellfish, leaving space for a more varied diet, and leaving the rest to stay and reproduce. He wasn’t greedy! Sam had taught him about these things. Mussels were very important to the environment. Evidently Damian was aware too. The boy nodded in approval as Danny continued his search.

Damian’s sword came in useful as well (he would’ve taken it away if he wasn’t sure that the kid would slash him for it) for harvesting kelp and seaweed. The pair snacked on kelp strips as Danny took them to their next prey.

However, Damian protested. “I do not wish to kill this one.”

The huge trout, easily as big as Damian, floated blissfully ignorant of the two predators eyeing it like hawks. Danny ‘s head spun as he tried to keep track of Damian’s seemingly endlessly shifting opinion towards eating fish or not. “That thing could feed us for like 300 miles.”

“The largest fish also reproduce the most. This one is a female.” Damian continued. Now that he thought of it, didn’t Sam make a whole protest about this in the beginning of summer? “Many oceans are in danger due to overfishing from humans. As a human myself, it is my responsibility to fish sustainably.”

The boy’s fins puffed with pride and conservationist fervor, a quiet determination that reminded him of Sam. Danny had some doubts. “If we eat the small fry, there won’t be many left to grow big and ‘reproduce’ as you say.”

This point seemed to put pause on Damian’s previous showboating. The boy gritted his teeth, looking for a comeback. “What about invasive species? Those that threaten the natural balance.”

Danny shrugged. That was a good point, except Danny didn’t know how to identify any of those.

“But you live in the ocean!” Damian protested when this point was brought up.

“Yeah. You live on land. Does that mean you know about every species that lives on Gotham?”

“Yes.” Well he kinda walked into that one, didn’t he?

“Well if you know so much about invasive species, why don’t you look for them?” Danny challenged. Animal hyperfixation or not, surely this kid couldn’t identify the hundreds of species that lived in this reef.

Damian’s ear fins tensed, something he’d noticed in himself whenever he was concentrating on something. The boy turned away from Danny and to the reef in front of them. Suddenly, the boy’s body slumped.

A smug grin split open Danny’s face.

Damian groaned, as if his next words were like Soviet torture. “There are no saltwater invasive fish near California, to my knowledge.”

“Hah! Suck on that, fishboy!”

Damian mewled angrily. His hand drifted down to the hilt of his sword. On dear.

“Alright, alright, alright. What about a compromise?” Danny waved his arms defensively.

“Speak.”

“We grab the fish that we were gonna grab before you interrupted.” Damian hissed at that. “BUUttt only one. And we fill our pockets with small fry. A balanced fishing diet. What do you say?”

The grumpy child pouted one more time for good measure, before sinking back to the floor. “Fine. You still need to teach me how to make a kill.”

“You sure you won’t get attached?”

“I can suppress my emotions to complete the mission.” It spoke something about Damian that Danny wasn’t even that phased this time. That being said please let that just be a boast with nothing to back that up.

Danny lay prone, fins flat, head down, like a tiger about to pounce. In the entire conversation they’d had, the trout had drifted about five inches from its previous position. Survival instincts this poor girl had not.

“All you need to do is shut your gills, like holding a breath. Just get closer… and closer… and POUNCE!”

Danny leapt at the trout, using his powers to accelerate into a blur. His hands pinned it down in an instant, the trout thrashing and slapping him, trying to escape. With a swift motion, Danny bit clean through its gills. The trout rapidly lost strength, slowly fading until it went still.

He held the trout up like a trophy. “Tada!”

Damian frowned deeply. “That was an unclean kill. It suffered immensely.”

“Ughh!” Danny groaned. “What do you want from me. I’m a siren not an assassin.”

Damian unsheathed his sword, looking about 50% more menacing as any other six-year-old Danny had ever met. “It seems I will have to show you, instead.”

Five minutes later, his idea of showing Danny how to kill resulted in a fresh bruise and a bent fin. The carp he had tried to pounce managed to escape with a shallow cut on its side.

“I’m very educated now, Damian. Thank you.” He snickered as Damian roared in anger.

“Shut your mouth! You have an unfair advantage, seeing as you can use your powers, while I am hampered by my body.”

“You’ll grow into them. I think. I dunno I haven’t met a lot of siren kids.”

“I am not a child!” Damian said, pouting very maturely.

The rest of the morning was spent like that, roaming the reef in search of food and bickering over this and that. At one point they debated over dolphins were whales or not (Danny personally thought whales were too nice to encompass dolphins under their umbrella).

Their food supplies replenished and energy still raring to go, the boys sealed their satchels shut, and continued south.

Meanwihle…

Hundreds of miles away in the ocean, Bruce stands at the helm of the Fenton Family SAV, its modified engines going at full throttle.

In a hidden compartment in his room, Tucker Foley slams into the firewall of the Fenton’s new database with everything he has. Schematics, blueprints, notes. He needs that data and he needs it now.

Sam Manson meditates on her bed, surrounded by candles. She recites warding spells, a staple for any young magician.

Skulker sits in his private yacht, bandaging his wounded leg, sliding the pieces for his next upgrade. Behind him, an ornate fish tank sits empty, awaiting its guest.

Agent K and Agent O monitor the news. The sonars around Amity. A report sits on the desk. The Fentons have just left town? That will be interesting…

#dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #dcxdp #merman #merboy #angst #mermaid au #fluff #hunting #hunting of animals #mer!danny #mer!damian wayne

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crepesuzette2023 · 6 months ago

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hello, I was wondering if you have any fics you like where Paul is the one pining?

Thank you so much for this question, and sorry to have taken so long to reply. I hope you still find these useful!

The lovely thing about J/P fic is that both John and Paul excel at pining. Scholarly tomes should be filled with arguments about who does it better. (Is Mutual Pining really the ultimate, or can something be said about the solo work of either man surpassing their 'collaboration'?)

As per your ask, it's Paul turn in these recs. I've decided to include fics in which they are in a relationship, of sorts, but where there's an element of Paul feeling that John is out of reach, or that Paul doesn't have enough of John — there's a distance to be bridged (but how?).

Early Days: Before the Fete

I've Just Seen a Face (sleepprettydarling): Five times Paul sees John before the Woolton Fete, one time he doesn't. G-rated, but the longing is *everywhere*.

Early Days

Two of us (burning matches) (@scurator). John corrupts/awakens Paul.

Above us only sky (candle_beck). "Paul is tired of being so good."

The first year (candle_beck). "They didn't get along, Stuart and Paul."

Lifting Latches/Sending Postcards (thinkpink20). Swapping clothes and becoming lovers...slowly. You can feel Paul's heartbeat when you read this.

On Menlove Avenue (thinkpink20). One of my favorite summaries ever: "It's a dark, dark night in Woolton."

Hamburg Era (roughly)

Mistletoe (thinkpink20). Paul observes John at Christmas, and finally takes action.

Like Love, the Archers are Blind (@dailyhowl). "He can’t ever be truly mad at him. Because his frustration melts like sugar on his tongue when he thinks about them sat across from each with their guitars and a notebook between them. Thinks about riding on the bus together with greasy packets of chips, stalking through record stores and strolling by the docks. How familiar and comfortable it feels to be together. What they have is too golden, too warm to ever stray from. And now he’s drowning in it." Come onnnn

Sinful (thinkpink20). "He tells himself it's just the grime around him, dirtying up his mind."

Beginning Fame

the touch of the velvet hand (downtothelastdrop). “Well then,” Paul countered, “you’ve not felt what I can do.”

I'm Telling You (aceonthebass). Paul pitches a 'soft' love song to John.

wouldn't it be nice? (@pauls1967moustache). John marries Cyn. What about John&Paul?

Geodesic Dome Era

open heart (@revollver). Vampire AU. Paul needs John—in more than one way.

Way up Top (@boshemians). The Beatles in Greece. "Underwater Paul snakes his arm around John’s wrist and presses their chests together, struggling for something."

1968

Days Like This (@eveepe). "His mouth was strangely dry, and he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in the scar on his lip."

Bad luck to talk (7intheevening). Paul is yearning for what he and John used to have—without being quite aware of his feelings. (Subconscious pining?)

Lost (@ohjohnnysblog). Paul needs a reminder of his and John's happier past. He goes to see Astrid...

Wings Era

Red Lights, Green Lights, Strawberry Wine (@savageandwise). Paul is with Linda and Denny, but waiting for John to call him back again...(Linda POV).

Later Days

Nude (@ohjohnnysblog). Paul buys nude pictures in a gallery and thinks of John.

Modern Love (caesdoublesteps). For a lighter touch: Paul negotiates with Yoko to give him Self Portrait, the movie about John's semi-erection. Yoko has a counter-offer.

Sleeping Sand, Morning Moon (@dailyhowl). Playwright Paul grieves a dear friend and the end of a relationship. He escapes to a Scottish village and falls in love with resident eccentric John—but his heart is not ready. (It will be.)

#asks #fic recs #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #pining Paul asks

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writers-potion · 8 months ago

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hey, can you do a circles of hell post like the heaven one?

The Nine Circles of Hell 😈🔥

Dante Alighieri’s The Divine Comedy is divided into 3 parts: Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso. The Inferno presents us with the popular concept of Nine Circles of Hell.

Ante-Inferno

Think of this as the Ground Lobby for Hell.

The Gates of Hell have this inscription: "Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate" (Abadon all hope, ye who enter here)

Souls who couldn't choose between good and evil reside here, tortued and chased by hornets and snakes. (Seems like indecision is also a sin, haha)

There are angels here as well who chose to be on the side of neither good and evil, and they're also tormented.

After crossing the river on the boundary for hell with Charon, you meet the first level of hell:

First Circle: Limbo

The first circle is home to the unbaptized and virtuous pagans, who simply didn't know that Christ exist.

These souls have lived morally, but failed to accept Christiantiy as a religion

No physical torture, but waves of sadness flow through the souls, lamenting the fact that they're close to Heaven but aren't in it.

Retirement community of the afterlife: Hippocrates, Aristotle, Virgil, Homer, Horace, Ovid, Socrates, Plato, Saladin

Second Circle: Lust

The wind-buffeted second circle of Hell is the final destination of the lustful and adulterous.

Souls are blown about in a violent storm, without hope of rest. They are torn in a raging storm and thrown against rocks.

Cleopatra and Helen of Troy were among its most famous residents. Francesca da Rimini and her lover Paolo.

Third Circle: Gluttony

Those who overindulge themselves are forced to lie in vile, freezing slush, guarded by Ceberus

Unable to move, they lay on the ground forever while being hurled with sweage and dirt.

Ciacco of Florence is here.

Fourth Circle: Avarice & Prodigality

This section of Hell is reserved for the money-grubbers and overly materialistic among us. Those who hoarded money come here.

The greedy battle each other, forever rolling giant boulders on each other. When they push the heavy weights, it rolls back and the process starts all over again.

Plutus guards them.

Fifth Circle: Wrath & Sulllenness

Dante tells us that the wrathful and angry souls of this circle spend eternity waging battle with each other on the banks of River of Styx.

The sullen are forced to breath below the dark waters, chocking on the black mud derived from the world above.

Fillippo Argenti is here.

───〃★ Door to Lower Hell: gate guarded by fallen angels ★〃───

Sixth Circle: Heresy

Heretics spend eternity entombed in flaming crypts in the sixth circle. Think of a graveyard with burning tombstones.

Heresy is the sin of having beliefs opposed to the Christian belief, which can be a little vague in modern times.

Florentines Farinata degil Uberti and Cavalcante de' Cavalvanti are here.

Seventh Circle: Violence

The Seventh Circle is sub-categorized into 3 smaller rings: Oter, Middle and Inner.

The outer ring is filled with blood and fire and reserved for murderers and thugs. Centaurs guard the Outer Ring, shooting criminals with arrows.

The middle ring is where, according to Dante, suicide victims go. They’re transformed into trees and fed upon by harpies.

The inner ring, a place of burning sand, is reserved for those who are violent against God and nature (blasphemers)

Eighth Circle: Fraud

Geryon, a creature symbolizing fraud, welcomes you to the eighth circle. He has a human face, a scorpion tail and giant wings.

The eighth circle is subdivided into ten trenches, where you’ll find con artists of all sorts. These trenches are called Malebolge (Evil pockets) and each contains different types of criminals who commited fraud.

Panderes and seducers, flatterers, sorcerers, false prophets, liars, thieves, people who created false money, counterfeits, impersonators, schismatics, etc. reside here.

Ninth Circle: Treachery

The final circle is a frozen wasteland occupied by history’s greatest traitors. Betrayers of are frozen in a lake of ice, and most of Satan's body is also immersed in ice.

It is divided into 4 stages: (1) Caina - traitors to family (2) Antenora - traitors to nation or politicians (3) Ptolomaea - hosts to betray theiur guests (4) Judecca - those to betray their lords/masters.

In the very center, Satan punishes the greatest betrayers of all time: Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Christ, and Brutus and Cassius who betrayed Julius Caesar.

Satan has three mouths, each of which eats a specific person: with left and right devouring Brutus and Cassius and the centre mouth devouring Judas.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

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incorrect-web-novels · 1 year ago

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Webnovel Carrd Links [Part 1]

I usually use Novel Updates, but Carrds are great to support the author, find translations not on NU, find Content Warnings, and learn more about the story / other adaptations. If there's a novel not here, it can be helpful to search the name of the novel + "carrd" or "novel updates"

Library Carrds / Carrds with Multiple Novels

Completed Baihe Carrd (click the sunglasses)

Baihe Novels Carrd

Baihe Support

Novel Carrd Library (Danmei & Baihe)

Aelia’s Library (Modern & Historical Danmei)

Unlimited Flow Danmei Carrd

Danmei Recommendations List

Underrated Danmei

Modern Danmei

Twitter Thread with Danmei Carrds

Author Carrds

(These authors have more works - I just listed the most popular ones/the ones I knew)

Cang Wu Bin Bai - author of Golden Stage and Fight the Landlord, Fall in Love

Cyan Wings - author of Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know, High Energy QR Code, They All Say I’ve Met a Ghost, etc.

Feitian Yexiang - author of Dinghai Fusheng Records & To Rule in a Turbulent World

Huai Shang - author of the Sword Named No Way Out

Jiang Zi Bei - author of PUBG: Online Romance of the Century, I Can Do It, and I’ve Liked Your Boyfriend for a Long Time

Liu Bing Jie - author of The Wife is First, Peach, and The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post

Man Man He Qi Duo - author of Those Years In Quest of Honour Mine

Meatbun Doesn’t Eat Meat - author of The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Meng Xi Shi - author of Estranged, Peerless, Thousand Autumns, The Fourteenth Year of Chenghua, etc.

Mo Chen Huan - author of The Earth is Online and the Villain Has Something to Say

Mu Su Li - author of Panguan and Copper Coins

MXTX / Mo Xiang Tong Xiu - author of MDZS, TGCF, and SVSSS

Please Don’t Laugh novels - author of FGEP, Ruzhui, and JQWS

Priest - author of Guardian, LHJC, Can Ci Pin, Mo Du, Gumen, Liu Yao, etc.

Shui Qian Cheng - author of Wu Chang Jie

Tang Jiuqing / t97 - author of Qiang Jin Jiu & Nan Chan

Wu Zhe - author of Unbridled, Sa Ye, Antidote, etc.

Zhichu - author of Fanservice Paradox

Danmei / BL

2ha / the Husky and His White Cat Shizun (1, 2)

Bat / Bianfu

Can Ci Pin

Carven Jade / Zhuo Yu

Cold Sands

Copper Coins

Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know

Dinghai Fusheng Records

Di Wang Gong Lue / The Emperor’s Strategy

Don’t You Like Me?

Encountering a Snake

Everyone Thinks That I Like Him

Fake Slackers

Fanservice Paradox

Fight the Landlord, Fall in Love

Fox Demon Cultivation Manual / FDCM

Global University Entrance Examination / QQGK / Global Examination

Golden Stage

Green Plum Island

Guardian

Guomen

How to Survive as a Villain

Jun You Ji Fou / How is the Gentleman Feeling?

Lie Huo Jiao Chou / LHJC

Little Mushroom

Liu Yao (press the 3 circles)

MDZS / the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (1, 2, 3)

Mist (CW: glitch effect, flashing lights)

Mistakenly Saving the Villain / MISVIL

Mo Du / Silent Reading

My Junior Still Hasn’t Killed Me

Nan Chan

[Part 2]

#not a quote #danmei #carrd #web novels #my posts #translations #webnovel carrd links #long post

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westerosoliviapope · 6 months ago

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Her baby sister, still draped in the shimmery purple gown she wore at dinner, stands next to the pool, her mother's features, heavy brows, full lips, and fiery eyes, mottled in concern. She was wary of taking her on as an assistant but Loreza Princessa Sand took to the role with the same focus and resourcefulness that put her at the top of her class at River Royne Academy and made her fluent in four languages—including YiTish.

___

I love doing canon nods with the Sand Snakes' middle names.

Obara Olyvia and Nymeria Morraine (for Olyvar and Mors, the two boys Oberyn's mother lost before Elia was born).

Tyene Aliandra (for thee Aliandra Martell)

Sarella Morgana Xanai (of course, Sarella's mother would insist she have a Summer Isles name—Xanai. Morgana for Morgan, the founder of House Martell).

I haven't thought of names for Elia, Obella, and Dorea yet. But Loreza Princessa just feels perfect.

#scandal westeros #modern westeros au #dorne #modern dorne au #house martell #sand snakes

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crowleystits · 1 month ago

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I'd Like for You and I to Go Romancing

Chapter 1: The Start

"Oh dear me, that was very depressing" Aziraphale muttered, arms crossed over his chest, glasses hanging from the tip of his nose as he eyed the slick television with a scrunched expression.

"It's a horror film angel, what did you expect" Crowley grumbled, long limbs sprawled over the cool leather sofa. His head was supported by a bony hand, thin elbow against the arm of the sofa they both lounged on. His socked feet barely touched Aziraphale's thigh, as they experimented with a domestic bliss none of them had ever known.

"I rather thought humans would shy away from such things. Their lives seem awfully short to dwell on such terrible topics." A few empty glasses hung on Crowley's modern coffee table, and an open window let in a delightful summer evening breeze.

"Films have evolved since the silent ones, you know" Crowley mocked quietly, stretching a long arm to reach the slick remote they had both placed near the empty glasses of vintage red wine. Aziraphale answered the demon's jab with an indignant scoff, although much couldn't be said in his defence. He really had never been one for modern indulgences. Outside of food, that is.

They had been going on like this, spending more and more time together in their respective abodes, just enjoying the other's presence, not once mentioning what led them here in the first place. Crowley's desperate attempt to keep the angel by his side as he'd been for the last six millennia hung in the air around them - a kiss, a desperately and wonderfully human act, a plea to not be left behind. Aziraphale could still feel the ghost of the demon's lips on his whenever he closed his eyes for a moment. Warm, soft, loving. Months had gone by since, and now that their respective employers were dealing with each other and their own bosses had fled together, they finally had time to just be. Not that they knew how to be a group. A group of the two of them. A couple, one could say. None of them had ever tried. Infinite, powerful creatures they were, but the nuances of romance still escaped them like sand between a child's fingers.

So, they chose to just be. Long days spent walking around St. James Park, followed by scrumptious meals at different spots all over London. Often, these days, one would follow the other into their home, a film would be watched, or some drinks would be had, or they would simply exist in silence next to one another. Or perhaps, if they were lucky, a combination of all the above.

Today was no different. Crowley picked a horror film he had been keen on watching, ignoring Aziraphale's weak protests with a "we'll do your thing next time, angel".

Next time. It was delightful to know there would most certainly be a next time, now that they were free.

"Here, you pick the next one. But none of that romance-y stuff angel, I don't want to fall asleep" the demon grumbled, tossing the remote gently onto Aziraphale's lap.

After a few moments of staring at the remote through his glasses as if it were a creature with two heads and five tails, Aziraphale sighed. "How you are able to operate this thing i will never understand, my boy. There are hardly any buttons".

"Buttons are a thing of the past, angel. This is an apple TV" Crowley paused and felt the angel's sideways glance. "Don't you even dare make a joke about it" he grumbled in false indignancy. "Just point it where you want it to go. S'simple, really". And so Aziraphale did. And though he struggled, he managed to point the remote and get it to comply with what he wanted. Hovering over a romance-y looking film thumbnail, he turned his head gently towards his paramour, if he could call the demon that, and with the most pouty expression he could manage, he said:

“Oh come on, I know you secretly love these ones".

Crowley looked away from the angel's face with a grumble, exposing his gritted teeth for a moment and snaking his head as he always did when his heart knew he'd give into Aziraphale's wish but his brain was still trying to deny it.

"Fine," he finally let out, plopping his head down against the arm rest fully, both his long arms hanging off the black leather sofa. He could practically feel the smug smile on Aziraphale's face, that irritating, charming idiot. "But if I end up snoring again, I don't want to hear anything about it."

"I find your snoring rather endearing." Aziraphale spoke with a shy smile, his blue eyes now fixed upon the large screen of the television. Crowley would never admit it, but a warmth spread over his cheeks, and in a pointless attempt to disguise his enjoyment of being paid a compliment, he lightly kicked his leg, tapping on Aziraphale's thigh as a response.

"You juvenile creature." Aziraphale said with an amused eye roll. "You know, you'd most certainly benefit from learning some manners." And with that, ignoring the mumbled protests that fled from the demon's mouth, he pressed play, and a very romance-y film indeed started to play.

Halfway through, they were both still awake, quietly watching and sometimes interrupting the silence to comment (or rather make fun, where Crowley was concerned). Aziraphale's hand rested gently on the demon's ankle, one of the many little shows of affection and intimacy they'd slowly started getting comfortable sharing. At the end of the film, Crowley snaked himself upright, some of his scarlet hair hanging over his forehead, which he inefficiently tried to fix by running a long, bony hand through it. "Alright angel, what do you fancy doing now?" Aziraphale glanced at his pocket watch, noting that it was past two in the morning.

"It's awfully late, I have a bookshop to open in the morning" he said, glancing over at the demon's now upright body.

"When was the last time you sold any books?" Crowley asked, a hint of mockery in his voice. After a short silence, he added "You could stay here. If you like."

Aziraphale's cheeks reddened a bit at the prospect, and he turned his head so he would not look Crowley in the eye. "Oh, I don't know" he began, uncertainty in his voice. "Your flat is rather empty, you know".

“It's called minimalism, angel." Crowley corrected, standing from his position to make his way into the kitchen.

Glassware could be heard clinking together for a moment, before he emerged with two intricate glasses with whiskey inside. "A nightcap." He explained, settling down on the couch again, this time closer to Aziraphale, handing over one of the glasses.

Crowley did not want the angel to leave. Uncertainty hung in the air, after they had kissed, that is. A desperate action it may have been, but a felt one nonetheless. Strange how it took outside intervention for Crowley to realise what he felt in his corporation every time Aziraphale was close was love. And sure, he knew the angel loved him, but angels love everything, all of God's creatures, wretched as they may be. But after their lips parted for the first time after having felt one another, the angel... stayed. Crowley knew how much he cared about his duty, how much Aziraphale trusted he could make Heaven a better place. Yet he stayed. But now, its almost as if nothing transpired between them. How irritating it was that none of them knew how to be together. They didn't know how to cross the line into a proper romantic relationship. They'd watched humans be in love over the centuries they've been on this Earth together. Crowley was even sure he had seen how they fall in love in a Richard Curtis film. Or maybe that was all his own fantasy. How he craved to let the angel know he was loved. That all those thousands of years pretending they were nothing more than acquaintances or friends had worn away at his soul. Or whatever demons are supposed to have in it's place. But now he was no better than a teenager experiencing his first crush. He didn't know what to do, and he felt awkward knowing the angel trusted him to be the cool, courageous and more knowledgeable on all human matters one.

Aziraphale himself had been battling with that delicious ghost of a kiss for the months that had rolled by since. He had started allowing himself to sit closer to Crowley, to let go of the guilt and paranoia that came from spending time with him, now that he knew Heaven wasn't watching. But an angel he was, and though he had done a good job at blending in with the humans he adored, he was still naïve in all matters of human connections. But oh, he'd known he loved Crowley since the Beginning. Any excuse to bring the demon to his side was a good one. No one in the Universe could make Aziraphale feel the way Crowley did, but angel he was and with that came a serious impairment when it comes to expressing feelings of such a nature. So they sipped at their whiskey, only a few centimetres of sofa between them, enjoying the warm breeze and the smell of London that wafted through the open window.

****

A few days passed since - a few days of dinners, of night caps at each other's homes, of casual promenades through St. James Park. Today was no different, after all. A dinner at the Ritz, something they hadn't done in a while, certainly not since they had become... whatever it is they were. After a few glasses of cool Laurent-Perrier, the desserts had arrived, and like always, Aziraphale indulged as he did, and Crowley sat beside him, chin resting upon a large hand, observing the result of his temptation through dark lenses.

"Oh, Crowley, they have really outdone themselves this time. This dessert du jour is simply outstanding." Aziraphale commented, elegantly wiping the corners of his mouth with a soft white cloth napkin.

"Do you believe they get the lemons from Southern Italy?" He continued, having placed his napkin next to his plate on the table. Absentmindedly, his left hand rested on the table, the fine linen under his fingertips a testament of the luxury they allowed themselves. "I never had lemons quite as delicious as the ones we had in Italy in 194-" His voice failed him once he felt a warm hand rest on top of his. The angel glanced at Crowley from the corner of his eye, only to notice he too was feeling flustered at the sudden contact. The demon looked forward, a hint of red colouring his freckled cheeks and the tips of his ears, but his posture didn't betray his racing heart, as he continued to lounge in his chair, legs spread open and his free arm resting over his thigh.

None of them spoke. They weren't quite sure they could. They had touched each other's hands before, naturally, but now like this. Now, the contact felt like a thunderbolt through their bodies, like their hearts would beat out of their chests and their skin would be set ablaze. Because now, it was different. It was... unnecessary. A whim. The demon had touched Aziraphale's hand simply because he could. Because he wanted to. And so they stayed like that for a bit, watching the humans pass in front of the windows of the elegant dining room.

"Alright, angel?" Crowley broke the silence after a while, struggling to pretend he wasn't trembling, feigning interest in the glass of champagne he had just picked up, staring at the golden, bubbly liquid with uncharacteristic curiosity.

"Yes" Aziraphale answered, far too quickly perhaps, feeling scared the contact would be broken. "It's... It's rather nice, I'll admit." He confessed, taking a sip of his champagne to disguise the pinkness of his cheeks.

[read more chapters here]

#good omens fandom #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #fanfic #good omens season 1 #good omens season 2 #ineffable idiots #ineffable spouses #ineffable lovers #good omens 1 #good omens 2 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 fic #archive of our own

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maniculum · 5 months ago

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Bestiaryposting Results: Hraetnug

We've got a good variety of results here, so I'm just going to run through the usual stuff and get to them.

If anyone isn't sure what this "bestiaryposting" thing is about, you can find an explanation and previous entries at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

All of the art below is based on this entry:

If you want to participate, next week's bestiaryposting will be based on this entry:

And the art is below the cut:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) decided something with wings that doesn't fly might well be a flightless bird, and has drawn a very good penguin/auk/thing. I really like how it's posed against the starry sky; it's evocative. For additional details, check the linked post.

@ectocs (link to post here) thought of sea turtles instead -- which I can totally see. I've had the good fortune to witness a few sea turtle hatchings, and the description of the eggs in the sand absolutely tracks. However, there's the issue that the idea of wing-shaped fins is not compatible with "its feet are like those of a camel" -- hence the very cool shell design. I like it; it's quite clever. The linked post contains some additional discussion of the thoughts and inspirations behind this design, go look at it. (Also, thank you for providing alt text.)

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has taught me a new word with this post -- xerocolous. Also, we have a medieval-style dragon here, complete with that ubiquitous wavy-eared head -- it does fully fit the description, too. Always appreciate a little medieval styling; those damned ears made me smile. There's additional explanation in the linked post -- also, thank you for providing alt text.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has laid out a brief but excellent explanation of their design process. It seems to have gone like this:

"What animals do this with their eggs?" "Snakes do that." "But snakes don't have wings or camel-like feet." "This one does."

Brilliant. Love it. No notes. (Also thank you for providing alt text.)

@pomrania (link to post here) also went with "flightless bird" and admits the inadvertent resemblance of their design to Big Bird -- it does have a certain Muppet-like quality, I must say. For additional information, please see the linked post. I particularly like the note that giving it a "no thoughts head empty" facial expression was fully intentional.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) also thought of sea turtles and then questioned how this could be compatible with the camel feet. Their solution, which I think came out extremely well here, was to simply draw a camel/turtle hybrid. I kind of love this design -- and, of course, the stylized art.

@strixcattus (link to post here) has drawn a very charming flightless bird. I really like the sort of shaggy design, which I assume is indicative of kiwi-style feathers. As is normally the case, Strixcattus has also included a modern naturalist-style interpretation of the animal, which I, as usual, recommend reading via the linked post.

To the Aberdeen Bestiary...

Once again, this is basically the same bird we see in a bunch of these, with the exception of its (surprisingly accurate) camel-like feet. However, this is in fact the ostrich. (I have no idea why one of them appears to be eating the eggs.)

I honestly don't have a lot to add here. Bit surprising to see a different set of myths about the ostrich rather than the "head in the sand" thing.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #hraetnug

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deadboyfriendd · 2 years ago

Text

Cochise l: Nellie

Summary: A dark stranger blows into town, bringing Hell with him. Little did he know, Hell was already here, in the form of you. The air here is stale and the residents stagnant. This town was as wild as the west was able, and you are the most wild thing about it.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Outlaw/Doc Holliday!Eddie Munson x Reader, wild west/Tombstone AU!, Sherrif!Steve (he has a mustache), guns and gun violence, death of minor original characters, period-appropriate death, drug use, angst, fluff, save a horse, ride a cowboy, wet dream, smut included, feminine rage embodied and I gave her a gun

My content is 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 4.4k

Author's Note: This is for Drac <3 thank you for beta reading!

Find the series masterlist here!

When the dust blew in from the East, Hell came with it.

And Hell hath no fury like a woman’s reproach.

1890. From the ashes of the Civil War rose a phoenix of economic expansion and spurs the great migration west. Farmers, ranchers, prospectors, killers and thieves seek their fortunes. Cattle drovers turned cow towns into armed camps with murder-rates higher than those of modern-day New York or Los Angeles. Silver is discovered in Arizona, and the prospectors dragged their young wives and their Parisian fashions with them. Siphoned together out of greed, hundreds of Texas outlaws banded together to forge a new way forward, resulting in the birth of early organized crime.

Out of this chaos came the great legendary lawmen, and none as mean as you.

The air was stale this time of year, heavy enough to flatten a lizard, when the turn of the season brought the green back to the ironwoods and the snakes back from their hides. When it brought the heat back with a haughty laughter and a heart full of vengeance. The sun cast down a glare that warped the mirage of the desert backdrop of Cochise County, turning from a comforting radiation to a wasp sting when the night turned. The cereus blossom fragrant with rot that filled the stagnant night air and its timely beauty– and ultimate untimely death.

He reaped a certain morosity with him, spurs scraping across the floor like a toll, steps sure as snow in the northern country– as they dragged the dust from his heels eastward. His skin was of alabaster, and his clothes of obsidian. He was not from here, and it drew a shudder from the mesquite doors upon their sun-dried hinges. The dirty faces of prospectors, drunks, and cattle drovers turning to peer at him under sweat-laden brows.

The Whispering Sands was not the ritzy bar, no, that was the bar located in the lobby of the Grand Hotel up the holler. No, Your dealer was as straight as a Christmastime wreath, your doors hung as crooked as your dealer, and if you didn’t carry when you walked through, you had spares. There would be no clean men and women with their Parisian dresses and costly hat pins occupying this place. This was the lowest of the low.

He peers at you from under the brim of a coal-stained, honest-to-God gunslinger wool Stetson, lined with the hammered silver and turquoise-inlaid band. It laid flat across the top and around the brim. You hadn’t seen one like it since your wedding night on the ritzy hardwood grounds of the Grand Hotel herself. He takes a seat in a singular fell swoop, frock coat flaring outwards and casting a soft breeze over your presence. Single-breasted, large notch lapels. Beneath it, his dark pinstripe trousers folded under the weight of his body, the silver brocade vest above the black cravat remaining stiff. From where your eye connected with him, you could see the nickel plating of a Colt 1873 single action revolver, sheathed under the oiled ellipse of the leather-bound shoulder holster. It was apparent he wasn’t here to push cattle.

It was a fleeting gaze, the kind that rattle each of your vertebra and settled in your coccyx. A single golden curl slipped over a broad shoulder and swung heavy in the tension between your two bodies.

There was a resonant patriarchal tenor that buzzed amongst the patrons in this space, tense on the outcome and flat-lining in deliverance. They tried to avert wandering gazes from this new resident— strung together words in staccato, interrupted by morbid curiosity and on-looking eyes. Michael Doten– amicably monickered “Mudsill”, shattered this hum like china. He was a worm of a man, slimy in all of the worst ways, and, on this day in particular, aptly under the impression of laudanum and drink. He shared these sympathies with his own father– a man no more than fifteen years his senior.

He slinked through the door with the demeanor of an old tom-cat, crooked in stride and greasy to the touch— not that you could fathom anyone wanting to touch him at all. He demanded a house whiskey with a slovenly belch– a concoction made from your own sarsaparilla, burnt raw sugar, and chewing tobacco.

“Michael, I’d say you’ve about had enough today.” You chided, firm in your answer. The stranger peered a doting gaze towards you, then turned it toward ‘Ol Mudsill from a downturned hat– wistful in demeanor and daring in residence. He watched as Michael cast a thumb of brown saliva onto your floor, intentionally ignoring the existence of the spitoon a mere few feet from it.

He sneered towards you through leather-laden eyelids, a protuberance straight from the aforementioned spittoon, and filled with piss and vinegar, “Now,” He started, “ – if I wanted an old bitch telling me what I can and can’t drink, I would have considered marrying.” It was a slimy statement with a profound lack of remorse. It dripped from the gaps of his rotting teeth like a tar.

“I wouldn’t marry you, even if I was fixin’ to face death herself.” It wasn’t the first time you had denied him a drink, nor was it the first time he had spoken ill toward you. You doubted it would also be the last. You were a harum-scarum, devil-may-care woman, tough as nails and pretty as a mink stole.

“You don’t listen too good, now do you?” Mudsill spit back, standing now. Your fingers grazed the pearl handles of the Remington Model 1890 tucked away in the fold of your dresses. You hoped to God you didn’t have to use it.

Before ‘Ol Mudsill could think of something to say back, the dark stranger stood, “That’s no way to talk to a lady.”

“Is that a fact?” Mudsill raises a wiry brow towards the man, standing erect in front of him.

“Yeah, that’s a fact.” He said back, quietly. It was a discerning quiet, the kind where you figure trouble might be brewing.

“Well, for a man that don’t go heels, you run your mouth kinda reckless there, don’t ‘ya?” The stranger said, standing a little more erect– like he was fixing for trouble, though, by the context of the rest of the conversation, you’d say trouble had already been brewing. Now, you waited for the pot to boil over, “No need to go heel to get the bulge on a tub like you, huh?”

Mudsill glared toward him though tight lids, a reckless abandon only a drunk could possess, “Is that a fact?”

“That’s a fact.”

“Well, I’m ‘real scared.” Musill replied with a bobbling nod of his head, reaching for the firearm tucked away behind his waistband.

“Damn right, you’re scared. I can see that in your eyes.” The stranger followed the movement of his hand momentarily, eyes settling over the worn wood of the stock before meeting back up with his eyes, “Yeah, go ahead, skin it. Skin that smoke-wagon and see what happens.”

“Listen Mister, I’m gettin’ awful tired of you–” He was cut off, the stranger landing a stinging, open-palmed blow to his face.

“I’m gettin’ tired of your gas, now jerk that pistol and go to work.” Mudsill stared back, stunned. Frozen like a scared lizard. Another blow. “I said throw down, boy.” A third blow landed across his cheek, harder this time. You could see where the blood filled his mouth and covered his teeth. “You gonna do something or just stand there and bleed?”

“No?” The stranger raised an eyebrow, reaching upwards to put a forceful hand on mudsill’s shoulder, “Now, come on, Junior.”

The wire snapped behind ‘Ol Mudsill’s eyes, and with a sleight of hand, he reached for the worn pistol tucked into his overcoat. The dark stranger was fast, but you were faster. The pearl grips cold and smooth against the sweat of your palms. Quickly and in one motion, you stepped out from the bar, hand forced steady only in fear alone.

“You’re bluffing.” Michael sneered towards you, taking a step forward, closer to you with the barrel now in your direction. It was enough for the stranger to bear his arms as well, though, he wouldn’t need them today. The barrel met Michael’s forehead.

“I don’t bluff.” Your thumb met the hammer, pulling it back enough for a deafening swell click, “Now your family may be back to rush me, but that won’t stop me from blowing a canoe through your head first, y’hear?”

His eyes widened, and he pulled the barrel back from you, finger leaving the sheath of the trigger and thumb only staying tucked around the grip enough to keep it held.

“Don’t come back here. Ever.” You ordered, and he nodded slightly.

“Yes’m”

The stranger spoke then, pistol still planted firmly against the back of the offender, “And you’re gonna drop that weapon right here, Michael.” He ordered.

The worn colt clattered against the floor as he tossed it from his waist-height to the ground. The stranger took this as the opportunity to grab Michael by the collar and drag him out the front doors like a calf. You could see the durst stir from outside, but didn’t sense a further commotion. You sat idly in one of your stools, letting free an exasperated sigh as you threw your head down against the bar. You didn’t sign up for this when you found yourself out west.

You felt the stock of a pistol press into the meat of your upper arm, “Here. Keepsake. Hang it over the bar, Nellie.” The stranger spoke back to you, sliding the firearm across the worn mesquite bar top.

You raised a brow at him, more at the moniker, but also at his enthusiasm, “Nellie?”

“I had a horse like you once,” He released a breathy laugh between his words, maybe more nervous at the fact that he was comparing you to a horse, “ —even after she broke she was meaner than hell, but prettier than a mink stole. It’s a pleasure, Mrs–”

He thought it was foolish, comparing you to that mean old mare, but he didn’t have time to dote on it before you stopped him mid-sentence.

“Ms.” You corrected.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes flitted down to the ring on your finger, a single thin gold band that he dwelled on for just long enough for you to notice the cogs attempting to turn in his head.

“Dead.” You clarified, and he felt his heart contract as the word left your lips.

“Sorry to hear that.” He dips his head low, only now taking off the Stetson to greet you properly, “Name’s Munson. Edward Munson.”

You shook your head, forcing that still-bruising ache away to push a smile, “Ain’t no changin’, may God have willed it, Mr. Munson.”

He matched your smile, handsome cheeks creasing deeply around the curvature of his mouth, “Just Edward will do, ma’am.”

You pulled open the humidor, nimble fingers gracing along the stack of cigars beneath its lid. You chose the one with the cleanest-looking wrapping, one that looked sufficient enough as a thank-you, before offering it to him. He took it with a nod of his head, thick fingers wrapping around the base gently before pulling the kerosene vase near him. You watched the smoke roll from between his lips in a vapid crescendo, all too graceful and all too beautiful.

“I take it you're not a prospector?” You questioned him gently, voice sure, yet smaller than his resonating alto.

He laughed softly, the kind that heaves itself from the chest. Hearty, “No ma'am.”

“Then how does someone like you find yourself in a place like this?” You leaned an elbow on the bar, chin resting firmly in the warmth of your palm. You tried to ignore the sweat building between the flesh.

He looked down at the cigar between his fingers, twirling it around and feeling the paper it was rolled in, “Well I find I could ask you the same thing–”

The bell above the door was shrill in the staleness of the air, the resonance of the prior entanglement floating back up in a cloud in an attempt to re-settle over the old furniture like silt. The man that waded through its wake was tall, but not gangly, no, he did not share the demeanor of a scarecrow. He looked like he meant business.

You pulled your attention away from Edward for a brief moment, your eyes tearing from his personage and settling over the familiar face, “Hello, Sheriff.”

“Hello, ma’am.” The sheriff tipped his hat towards you in greeting, peering briefly at the man sat at the bar in front of you, “‘Ol Mudsill seems pretty shaken up, did somethin’ happen again?”

“Nothin that Edward here couldn’t handle.” You watched as his eyes flicked back and forth between you and Edward, like he was trying to piece a puzzle together but there were too many missing pieces, “Sheriff, this is Edward Munson, just unloaded from the train in Tucson.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He reached a broad hand out to meet with the sheriff’s.

He accepted the offer, hands locked together in a firm grip, “Steve Harrington.”

“Pleasure.” Edward mentioned, politely.

“You have a place to stay, Edward?” He asked, hand still interlocked with his for a brief moment.

“Not as of yet. Know of anyone housing?”

“I’d say the Grand Hotel just across the way.”

The walk to the other side of the road is brief, but the sun beat down against Eddie’s back like a brand– the eyes that followed his movement, the hands that held the iron. The dust kicked up behind him and collected at the bases of his boots seemed to slow his stride as he sunk into its softness. He would have to have them polished tomorrow.

Steve turned to him, boots casting a hollow thud as they stepped up onto the decking of The Grand Hotel, “I am inclined to ask, what exactly happened back there?”

Eddie cleared his throat, righting himself, “Just some drunk. Got all riled up when she wouldn’t serve him and started waving his gun around.”

Steve shook his head, removing his hat to run a finger through the hair beneath it, sand ripplying against his scalp beneath his finger, “Christ, well, thank you for handling that for her. She’s been through too much this year.”

“She dealt with that right on her own, sheriff, the only part I took part in was getting him out.”

Their boots made a clunk against the sun-rotted wood on the staircase of The Grand Hotel, stairs creaking in affliction. There was a moment of silence between the two men, tense and fleeting, like there was still something to be said.

“Her husband died last spring.” Steve finally mentioned, understanding that it wasn’t his place to tell.

“She mentioned it.” Steve felt a relief at him knowing. He didn’t want to be the one to have to bear the shock of the statement.

He sighed before continuing, “Shot and killed on that bar floor. ‘Couple of bandoleros robbing the place.”

“Chist–- She seemed capable.” Eddie mentioned to him, raking his hair back under his hat. He felt the sweat bead around where the band met his skin.

“But still, no woman should ever have to bury her husband.” The sheriff said, reaching up to place nimble hands on his hips, “‘Specially not that young.”

The Grand Hotel is the essence of luxury in the west. Well, as luxurious as they could ship by train. Mahogany covered the expanse of the palace in a grandeur scale, only being broken by the pin-striped wallpaper covering the upper half of the wayne-scotted wall on the second floor. The taxidermied elk that hung above the bartop was shipped from the northern country, as were many of the axis and whitetail deer that hung on other walls.

This seemed to be the only place in this town that a fine layer of dust hadn’t settled over.

The velveteen nature of the drapery that hung over the stage to the left in a heavy abismality had remained nearly untouched by the traces of the desert around it. The gold of the drawstrings that held them back still contained the luster under the light.

He couldn’t help but to search for you in the madness of coiled, unabashedly tentative curls piled on the heads of the women in the large bustles that scraped between tables and each other. You looked like you belonged here, but he knew where you would be.

This night’s show had ended already, the lingering patrons also taking residence within the palace. The backing curtain drawn to a close and the actors retired to their quarters. Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, overrun, overplayed. Edward thought about it. Of all the things in the world to know, why learn The Devil’s craft? He figured if it was the only thing left to know, he’d probably learn it, too.

There is a man of about five foot, ten inches sat at the bar, elbows rested against the glossy finish of the bartop. He is a burly man, Eddie can see that even from his sitting position. Steve guides Eddie towards him, taking his own seat next to him. Eddie stayed standing.

He looks back behind him, Steve muttering a few words that Eddie couldn't seem to hear over the drabble of lobby patrons, “Milt. County Marshall.”

He sticks a rough hand out, and Eddie takes it in a firm clasp.

“Edward Munson.” He shakes his hand once, Milt was a man of few words.

Steve buys Eddie a drink. A golden bourbon, not watered down like many of the bars out west did for reserve. Real golden bourbon. An import. A thanks.

They settled on a less-occupied corner of the palace, one that lacked faro tables and drunk patrons. On the opposite side of the baby grande that played anything its player knew how.

“Her husband was a good man.” Steve said between sips, sweat dripping down the crystalline glass like glitter, “Too good if you’d ask me. It’s what got him killed in the first place.”

He felt the pang in his chest, a tightening of muscles like tears, “It’s a shame. Pretty woman like that having to run that place by her lonesome.”

Steve chucked a bit in agreement, looking back over his shoulder like you would somehow appear, “That isn’t by our choice. She could have her pick if she wanted it.” He took another sip of his drink, and Eddie knew he was right. You were pretty, sullen skin like satin, hair like ribbon. He’d pay all of the money in his pocket just to touch.

“She doesn’t?” Eddie questioned, looking over to meet Steve’s eyes.

“I’d reckon not.”

He tried not to think about it, instead focusing on the piano. He watched the woman sat on top, the way the lace of her undergowns flowed upwards with the swing of her ankles. He watched the man play with skilled– albeit drunk– fingers.

This place was lively, perhaps a little too lively for the hour. People still yelling obscenities and praises over faro, ice in glasses. He felt the sweat from the glass beneath his fingers, and it matched the band of it building beneath his cap. His collar felt tight, like someone had been pulling it from the back. Shouldn’t it have gotten cooler when the sun went down?

“I’d reckon I’d better turn in for the night.” He said suddenly, placing the glass down on the bar in front of him, about a milliliter of fluid left watered-down and pooling at the bottom.

He ascended the mahogany staircase to his quarters, where he would retire for the night. However, as he stripped himself of his frock coat and underclothes, he couldn’t help to peer towards the luminescent glow coming from The Whispering Sands upper floor across the bend.

The curtains billowed outwards towards the street below, casting a light over the sand beneath it like a halo. White linen backlit by yellow butane lighting. And there you sat, all woman. He’d have half a mind to buy you some night clothes, and the other half a mind to burn them if you even had them.

He watched the way your skin rippled at your lower back as your bare skin pressed against your vanity stool, and the way your skin stretched over your shoulder blades as you pulled your hair to the side, raking through it with the brush in front of you. Your lips fell into a supple pout in concentration, and your lashes kissed your cheeks as you looked down. He could feel the windowsill digging into his palms, it grounded him– kept him from free-floating into the stagnant desert air.

The Grand Hotel is a loud place, and it never sleeps. The faro games did not stop on his account, and he didn’t expect them to. He closes his eyes, a glass breaks. A fight breaks out downstairs in a triad of commotion, shuffling, and yelling. This was the first time he had been in a bed in days, yet, it felt horrendously unceremonious. Sleep would not evade him in the way he willed it.

The flooring creaked, drunk patrons hit the wall outside of his quarters with intense, muffled thuds. Two people in the suit next to him were clearly of relation. He tried to ignore the way the oak headboard creaked and hit the wall in a rhythmic fashion. He tried his hardest not to think of you.

This place did not sleep, and he knew he wouldn’t either. So instead, Edward collected his hat and gun, pulling his trousers back on and lazily doing his shirt back up.

The night air had cooled some, less blistering than when the sun was out, yet it remained stale. He walked a bit, eyes still shimmering with the adjustment of light from the palace to the stark darkness of the desert. Light traveled a lot further here, darkness even further. The hum of the palace dimmed as the distance between them grew, air heavy like a barrier that stopped the noise from traveling.

He settled himself in the soft sand beneath him, back planted firmly against the knotty base of that twisted old ironwood. Someone else still awake at this unholy hour plucked delicately at old piano keys– these ones slightly more out of tune and reverberated off of the walls with a static hum that resonated through the otherwise empty streets. Sleep evaded in a thankless percussion.

And there you were.

He allowed his fingers to trail over the delicate expanse of your shoulder, brushing soft curls over its bridge. Soft presses of his mouth trailed from your year to the valley of your clavicle. He pressed your gowns down your shoulder as he went, the loose garment sliding off with ease.

In your glorious, supple nature. All woman all the time. Your hands, nimble and soft, were forceful against his chest as you pushed him back against plush white linens. Fingers as sure as death and as right as rain. The haze from the butane lamp cast a glow around you, baby hairs illuminating around your head like a halo.

Slowly now, but with an urgency, you right yourself in between his knees, undoing the buttons of his shirt in a way that made him want to beg just to feel a finger brush against his skin. He whined as he watched you with wide eyes.

His buckle made impressions on the inside of your thigh, a welcome breeze blew through the open window, gracing the overlaying flesh in a ritual of human intimacy. Songs of “Oh- Gods” and small giggles creating perfect songs- a gathering drum backing and an underlying hum of the desert around you. You could feel his hands on your back, fingers his fingers unwrapping you from linen bed sheet confines and introducing you to your own bedroom like an heirloom– a home in which you yourself haunted. The palms of your hands feeling the smooth surface of stone beneath the skin, and the dewey droplets from his own flesh dampened them with a waxy residue.

His fingers pressed firmly into the plush of your outer thighs, and your skin was soft. Calves skin, another import. Too soft for this place. Too soft for this sadness.

“So soft.” He whispered, voice a tenor to its usual pitch.

He watched where your bodies connected, the way you slid up and down on him, the way his fingers rippled your skin where they dug in, the gyration of your hips. Your hair is down this time, braid long since combed through, and the ends of it tickle as they brush against him.

“God, Nellie.” He isn’t particularly introspective or anything, but he does know that he’ll never feel something like this again.

Your tender touch a velvety petal trailed down the expanse of his chest where it heaves, nothing left to impede your touch. No overcoats, no holster or gun. Your hands like the claws of the bobcat pawing into the sand where his heart lay in an unmarked grave.

“Edward,” You whispered against the shell of his ear, his hands pressing the center of your back to bring you close against your chest. It was a plea. It read like a prayer. “Take me, please.”

His upward thrust slowed from long, meaningful bass crescendos to harsh uneven staccatos. Your breaths became erratic in nature to match. Your release washed over you like a storm, rolling and violent and all at once. His own followed suit.

Edward realized then that this was how the west would be won. If it wasn’t, he’d wage the war himself.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #Spotify #outlaw!eddie #cowboy!eddie

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