#or does my inspiration just read that clear...
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crookedfivefingers · 1 day ago
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3.13 | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ
link to the post I accidentally wound up prattling endlessly about in the tags 💀
#doctor who#tenth doctor#martha jones#david tennant#freema agyeman#(good god. without even meaning to I went into 'psycho stream of consciousness tagging' mode. whoops)#always thinking of that one post#where OP mentions how the writing tries to make it seem like Ten looked right through Martha/etc#which is a good concept for demonstrating his grief. but also isnt what we really see throughout S3#(not saying he wasn't a grieving MESS because he was. but he's a multi-faceted character and he can grieve AND value Martha simultaneously)#but we see such fierce protective instinct+trust; a bond between them that obviously isn't some one-sided affair#+ his clear intent to impress her/be admired and respected by her (apropos the post that inspired this sentiment)#but RTD obviously isn't the most infallible of writers#*cough* [list of reasons I cut down b/c long] *cough*#He can make Martha say “he's not seeing me/he doesn't look at me” but then you just watch with your eyes and you get a different story#It's like the opposite of when Moffat tries to make you believe someone is super important through bold claims without showing his work#instead RTD tries to make you believe Ten is functionally blind to Martha's existence while showing numerous examples of the contrary#then bring in the novels+myspace blog+cartoon that he all signed off on. Which tie together to create a canon backdrop#basically I said all of that to say this—#it's the whole reason I had to make this blog to get this sort of stuff off my chest (even if it's just for me sometimes)—#Ten not only SAW Martha—he trusted+respected+enjoyed+adored her. And it's a good thing#it doesn't cheapen his grief. I feel like people must think it does which is why I constantly see bad unnecessary takes about them#it just means that Martha was SO important to him and it's ok. they had a killer friendship outside the unrequited minutiae and it's ok#there's even a comic where 'someone' makes him believe she's Martha and he makes her change her appearance because “it's still too raw”#Just saying you don't say that sort of thing about someone whose existence you're all blasé about#Martha already gets fucked by the narrative in enough ways without people totally missing her significance in the Doctor's life#you don't have to ship them to appreciate them on a deeper level#anyway. fuck. if you actually read all of these then I'm so sorry#creating this blog has taught me that there are only like two people who feel the same way about tenmartha matters and it’s fine 😂#but if I didn’t give myself an outlet it would probably form a tumor SO there we are then
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evadnesworld · 4 hours ago
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Your Name. (Or more like their name?)
an: saw this quote on this youtube answering tmi questions and it inspired me
pairing: zayne x reader, xavier x reader, rafayel x reader
cw: suggestive in xaviers, no proofreading, wrote this while being very tired, got bored halfway, ooc.
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“Remember that a person's name is to that person the sweetest and most important sound in any language." - Dole Carnegie
Zayne
Oh, how he wished you could view yourself through his eyes; he knew that if you did, then your breath would be taken away from the sheer adoration, and loyalty he felt for you. In his eyes your beauty could not be described with words, for even the words of poets would fall short. Your eyes, they held the stars, no not even. The stars would shy away, believing their beauty to be inferior to your magnificence. They would dim themselves for your light was too bright for them to handle. He believed that sculptors and artists across the world would make you their muse, your body perfection with every dip and curve, with every blemish and inperfection- in his eyes everything about you was just- you.
Thats how he'd describe it, he just loved you.
Your soul, your personality, your eyes, ears, hair, everything! You truly ensnared him, without knowing it, you had him wrapped tightly around your finger. Honestly, if he didnt build up self control during his academic venture, then he'd definietly look a fool since he would shamelessly listen to your every beck and whim. I mean who wouldn,t look at you!
But a lot of the times (some would say more often than not) he did indeed listen to you. Adoring the nicknames you gave him even under his teasing and brooding guise when you spoke to him. But there was one other thing he adored even more than just your usual chatting session, and that one thing would be- his name.
Okay, that does sound a bit arrogant, I mean- who would admit that they like hearing their name being said? He was very aware of how it would have come off like, so he kept it to himself in fear of you bing a bit put off by it. But, the eyes dont lie. (and the actions dont either.)
To say you loved teasing him was an understatement, youd try to find anything to get him even a bit riled up, even if it was something small like switching his beloved tea flavors with some bitter revolting tastes-it was never too small. You were quite observant too,you wre well versed in the art of Zaynes monotone expression, a master even!
And when you discovered his reaction when you would call his name out instead of those wild or romantic nicknames you decided to bestow him with, you decided that you would not let that chance to tease him slip away.
"Zayne." You whispered out, your voice laced with a sweeter tone than usual. You eyed him from the couch which you currently sat on, seeing him stiffen ever so slightly as he read a few articles right next to you. The two of you enjoying the silence and were more than satisfied to just bask in each others presence. But now you decided that the silence would be filled with various teasing words.
"Zayne." You repeated once again resembling the constant mocks of a bird who just learned how to cuss. He looked at you, his mouth ever so slightly agape, his eyes dilated, and his eyes a bit more open than usual. If anyone saw this, they wouldn't think anything of his expression, but they weren't you- they weren't as close to him as you were.
He sucked in a breath, "Yes my love?" he inquired, his voice steadied from its unusual wavering.
"Zayne," you repeated once again before deciding to bring up some random topic to cover your abnormal repetition of his name. "Why is it that when you're in love with someone and you see them, your pupils dilate?" looking up at him to meet his gaze, you hoped your nonchalant attitude and tone wouldn't arouse any suspicion from him.
clearing his throat, he seemed to not catch on yet. "It's because your brain releases dopamine and oxytocin, which triggers that involuntary response." He elaborated a bit more on it, you made sure to keep your eyes on him.
"Oh, that's interesting, right Zayne?" With the amount of times you had repeated his name, people would question whether you were a living human being or a broken record player, doomed to play the same lyric again and again.
Oh you would truly be the death of him.
But you weren't too careful this time, batting your lashes at him with a teasing smile. He chuckled before he leaned in, trying to match your (freak) teasing. "Yes, [name]?" He asked, mimcking your previous actions and whispering, words sounding like honey. His voice husky, and his breath tickling your ear.
Curse this guy, he was gonna be the death of you.
"Is there anything you need, [name]?" He was definitely worse than a parrot repeating what foul language their owner taught them because they at least copied their tone too, but he decided to take it up a notch by making his tone deep, husky, and just way too hot for you to handle.
He took your hands and intertwined them with his, his smile teasing. Two could play that game, and it was a game he made sure to win. He saw your flushed expression and your faint pout. He chuckled, patting your head once more, "Are you mad at me, [name]?"
He was insufferable- the stoic, patient, loving kind of insufferable.
And he would vaguely bring this up often, not making it obvious but you both knew what he meant every time he decided to draw out your name. Making sure to use it in more than just day to day instances.
Rafayel
"Do you have a sudden obsession with my name? I know its a pretty name, everything about me is pretty, unlike those fat fish from the pond." he crossed his arm, his gaze eyeing you up and down relentlessly. If it weren't for your constant teasing and his slight pout, you'd think he was checking you out.
You laughed, "If you're aware that it's a gorgeous name then why won't you let me say it however many times I want to?" You furrowed your brows in a playful manner, mimicking his pose as you also crossed your arms, forcing that adorable slight pout of his.
He grasped dramatically, "Not only are you repeating my name like some sort of chant, but now you're mocking me? I may be a fish, but i'm no dumb fish." Now, his dramatic gestures worsened as he turned away from you with a loud huff.
Plus, the fact that you were laughing at him like there was no tomorrow was not helping your cause. You smiled as you poked his shoulder from behind, an attempt to get his attention- a failed attempt may I add. His frequent looking back to see if you were there did not go unnoticed.
"Raf, I wasn't mocking you, I just really like saying your name." Grinning, you gave him a kiss on his shoulder. That would surely warrant a reaction from him, and that it did. "Glub, glub, glub. I'm just a fishy, I don't understand these dumb human gestures and weird language." You both rolled your eyes.
"Rafayelllll," you drawled out his name once again, this time he turned to look at you. I mean how could he not? Not when you were saying his name like that, and even if your flirty tone wasn't on purpose he'd still turn around! Your voice was too beautiful for him too handle, he was like your cat, if you told him to sit then he probably wouldn't sit immediately but he would at some point. Or maybe thats a bad analogy, dont cats usually eat fish?
You patted him on his head, a gesture he would not dare lean away from, melting into your warm and loving hold.
If being able to hear your voice, his name falling from your lips, and just being able to see you meant him having to sacrifice something of his then so be it. For he'd give you his heart if he could.
How could a painted handle losing his favorite muse afterall?
Xavier
Now, unlike the other two who would shy away at your gesture, Xavier would do anything but that.
Say his name again and again, I dare you. But be warned, if you do then theres no getting rid of him.
He's a clingy guy, cat form or not, he just always wants to be by you. It's not something that can be helped, I mean who wouldn't want to be next to someone as dazzling as you? He sure wanted to.
So when you decided to repeat his name like some sort of mantra, to say he instantly stuck to your side would be an understatement- and also a lie. But thats because he was already by your side. His hands would snake around your waist, his head laying on your shoulder as his warm breath tickled your shoulder. There was never gonna be a different outcome than this, he loved you too much.
He loved your voice, your hands, your eyes, your everything.
So haring his name being said time and time again was truly a treat, "Xavier,", "Xavier!", "Xavier?" Oh, it sounded like a lullaby, if that was what he wok up to everyday, then wiping his smile off of his face would prove arduous.
"Xavier, I'm gonna die here!" You patted his back, his body was currently draped over yours after you decided to say his name like there was no tomorrow. I mean, you usually gave him a cute nickname, reserving his name for a more intimate moment. And whenever his name was said during said moment, it would just make something click.
So tonight, was no obviously not gonna be different, your hands were clasped with his. You were under him, his hair draping over you, tickling your everything. Your face was hot, and you could feel his smirk against your skin. His touch was prickly, it sparked warmth all across your body, it was too intoxicating. it was something you wouldnever get tired of.
"Would you care to repeat that once more for me? It sounded really nice being said by you." He was surpisingly straightforward, as he usually beat around the bush or just never said anything. You really just had that effect on him at the moment, so you repeated it once more.
Maybe you shouldn't have, but thats what made you wind up in this spot.
Your hands pinned to the bed, his legs between yours, the room felt hot, fuzzy. The air felt prickly against your bare skin as you heard the words spew out of his mouth once more,
"Can you say it once more for me, please?"
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dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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heynhay · 4 months ago
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your ocs?? your artfight attacks? is your world and comic not original? the one with the world that is always cold and dark and getting colder?? the one where anaya is looking for the flame? the way you draw anything fantasy is very 👌👌👌to me. it's in your chara tags! it has that vibe that honestly doesn't get enough attention in fantasy settings to me. the simplicity and occasional gloom of it all, it gives me the impression that you really appreciate the scenery in souls games
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anon clock was insane
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throughpatchesofviolet · 2 days ago
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I think the reason Heathlock has become my main ship is because Sherry, while being based off Sherlock Holmes, is the insert who's the most like me--because her counterpart does so many things I do, like getting moody for seemingly no reason, or getting hyper focused on a task, or having a cluttered space, or just observing things others miss. So, naturally, Sherry does all these things, too.
But the real comfort is when Sherry does slip into moodiness, or become averse to romance, Heathcliff is still there. He doesn't ever cross her boundaries, and (usually*) communicates with her about how she's feeling/what she wants. Even when she's not in the mood to be touched, he'll simply sit nearby and wait for her to invite his affection. Or he'll be quiet when he knows she's overwhelmed and needs silence.
He's very attentive to Sherry, and--while he never says it out loud-- him respecting her boundaries is a way he expresses his love for her.
#I hope you know that oftentimes when I say ''Sherry'' I am imagining/referring to myself ... and that is very much the case here#this post was mainly inspired by me going romance/touch averse last night and imagining how Heathcliff would handle it#specifically in a situation where there was initially little communication ... hence that little * after ''usually''#because sometimes there isn't always clear communication--there's misunderstandings#and yes they get upset with each other because of that ... but that's just how relationships are#sometimes you're going to have disagreements#but after those few initial squabbles Heathcliff gets a lot better at reading Sherry's body language and figuring out how to respond#at first I think he is a bit stung by Sherry becoming romance and touch repulsed ... but he learns that's part of who she is#and if he loves her then he'll have to accept that there are times when she isn't going to be able to provide or receive affection#and he does ... and because he does it makes it easier for Sherry to come out of those moods--because I know thinking about this--#--helped me slowly shift back into favoring romance again#Heathcliff's the only character who does this for me too#and part of that is Sherry being almost a 1-to-1 of me ... but it's also because Heathcliff is canonically very good at identifying--#--what his partner doesn't like and doing his best to accommodate them--even when that means checking his volume or not touching them#and I think him being that way makes it easier for Sherry to reciprocate his affection#he's so easy for me to love ... I know I can be difficult but knowing he'd be like this comforts me more than I can express#otp: the adventure of wuthering heights ⛈️🔍#r: remind my heart to beat 💢#si: to a great mind‚ nothing is little 🤎#scattered pages
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swallowtail-ageha · 3 months ago
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Elden ring numens have their name almost certainly inspired by the lotr numenorans, but alas i have not read the silmarillion so i can make zero (0) insightful observation about that
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asteria-argo · 9 months ago
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correct me if I'm wrong but I was just thinking about the roykeeley in season two of it all, and that fight where Keeley loses it at Roy for being clingy because she can't handle how close they are now that they work in the same building but like,,, Keeley and Roy would have been working in the same building while dating for a good chunk of season one as well.
She started working at Nelson Road before Jamie was even sent back to Manchester. They would of had months working in the same building, so either Roy has always been that clingy and Keeley just didn't mind at first, which I found doubtful given that it only takes her like a week to blow up at him for it in season two, or Roy being clingy is an out of character thing for him to be doing that should've raised some kind of red flag to friends and loved ones that I feel like from what we know about Keeley as a character would've been treated with more empathy than she actually had in the show.
#i'm going off of memory so this might not be anything#but wasn't one of her complaints that he sat quietly in her office reading when they were on break?#girl how is that being clingy and not just regular levels of wanting to spend time with your partner?#I stand by that Roy wasn't in the wrong for that#I actually stand by Roy not being in the wrong for MOST of his relationship with Keeley#I don't even think he was wrong for breaking up with her#I will not ever view breaking off a relationship you aren't happy in as selfish#and I don't care how much the show tries to make me view him as selfish for it or like he threw something good away#no he didn't#just because Keeley was hurt by being broken up with (understandable reaction) does not mean Roy did the wrong thing by breaking up with he#he looked at the way their relationship was going and saw that he wouldn't be happy if he stayed so he left#and the show tried to frame that as a bad thing#“maybe i should've just stuck around and enjoyed it”#no sir that's not how these things work#staying in a failing relationship just because you don't want to be alone isn't healthy you did the right thing#your career and your love life aren't metaphors for each other#and let me be clear Roy and Keeley were 100% a failing relationship right from the start of season 2 with the fight that inspired this post#keeley's feelings about the breakup aren't more valid then Roy's just because she's the hurt party#and they clearly broke up amicably if Keeley is willing to sit down and tell Phoebe about it with him#she wasn't jilted or wronged in any way and the show framing it like that grinds my fucking gears
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skollwolf · 6 months ago
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I know I wrote Blinding back in like 2013 but even to this day my villain origin story is when people comment that they're glad Tony has a happy ending in it
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adragonprinceswhore · 5 months ago
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One Whore Is As Good As Another
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Aemond x Brothel worker x (drunk) Aegon
Summary: Desperate to prove he's no mere boy, Prince Aemond leaves his taunting brother and seeks out another conquest. Momentarily, he feels back in control, until his brother reappears.
Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, reader is a brothel worker and has Valyrian features, targcest, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), face fuccin', P in V, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, titty slapping, humiliation, degradation, dysfunctional brothers
Word Count: 2000
A/N: I had this idea when I read the leaks for episode 3, and let's just say Aegon's awfulness worked great as inspiration. Filthy drabble ahead!
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You've seen Prince Aemond's long, silver hair flash by in the corner of your eye countless times in the past weeks.
You never get the chance to observe the prince up close. He only appears fleetingly, confidently striding through the Blue Pearl towards the room where Madame Sylvie awaits him.
She seems to be his favourite; the only one allowed to touch the imposing young man. Sometimes he spends hours with her, though you are not privy to the details. All you know is that most men entering your place of employment conduct much shorter visits.
You do not envy your madame. Entertaining a Targaryen prince is no easy feat, from what you've heard.
Still, you do wonder what it would be like to catch his eye. For him to choose you, like he had chosen the madame.
Had he ever caught sight of you, like you did him? Had he ever seen the shimmer of your silver hair reflect in the corner of his eye?
Does you Valyrian heritage look as alluring as that of the statuesque prince, despite being born a bastard?
These thoughts had merely been fugitive, indulgent fantasies.
Until tonight.
Prince Aemond stands naked in the middle of the vast space in the heart of the Blue Pearl, seeing eye gazing out over the intertwined bodies moving in differing rhythms.
No one had asked for your services as of yet, and you'd therefore been tasked with refilling chalices and plates for the patrons.
The prince's gaze settles on you as you pour wine into a few cups scattered around, ensuring no one chases pleasure parched.
He walks towards you in slow, confident steps, seemingly uncaring that he is fully nude.
'Tis a brothel after all.
Placing the decanter back on the table, you curtsey as he draws near; trembling fingers fumbling with the thin material of your gown,
"Wine, your grace?"
"Do you work here?"
'Tis not the wine that caught his attention.
"Yes. How may I be of service?"
His eye scans the place, searching for a more secluded spot. He gestures towards a plush settee tucked away in a corner with a nod, prompting you to follow him there.
Walking next to the prince, you can truly admire the sharp features of his face. His hair is as fetching up close, and his skin resembles milk; so clear and smooth.
Clean.
Not fit for the filthy surroundings you'd been brought up in.
"Are you my uncle's bastard?"
His query catches you off guard,
"I-, I do not know, your grace. Mayhaps"
You could be his cousin.
Or his sister.
It matters little here; the gods had decided both of your fates when they ruled it fair he be born a prince and you a bastard to a whore in Flea Bottom.
Despite the evident uncertainty, your answer seems to please him.
Prince Aemond's hums, seeing eye narrowing and the right corner of his mouth twitching briefly, perhaps nearly breaking into a smile.
The possibility of you being his uncle's daughter excites him.
"Lay down"
You do as told, reclining on the settee. The corner the two of you occupy is fairly out of sight, yet there is no curtain hindering wandering eyes from seeing your act. It surprises you that the otherwise secretive prince would chose such an exposed place for your coupling, yet you say nothing.
The choice is his.
He inspects your form as you lie down; gaze traveling from the round softness of your breasts to the smooth skin of your inner thighs. The gown you wear leaves little hidden, and the prince's searing stare causes your heart to drum quicker in your chest.
The unpredictability of what he'll do next; of what he wants from you, causes as much unease within you as the determined look in his eye elicits.
He hums, head nodding faintly to himself, before he moves towards you, lifting one long, lean leg so he may straddle your chest.
His cock is right by your mouth, already growing larger as he gazes down at your face underneath him.
Perhaps 'tis the gaining of control that arouses the prince so; seeing you laid out for him with nothing but obedience to offer.
He feeds you his half-hard cock; not too brutish to force it all in your mouth at once. A prince still keeps his manners, you suppose.
Taking him in, you feel the skin of his member; hot and with a taste like salt. It's heavy in your mouth, and the awkward position the prince has you in does not allow you much movement.
He looks down at you; one eye stoney and unmoving, with shadows and light dancing in it. The other expressive and fierce.
Hungry.
Both his hands grab the back of the seat as he leans forward, forcing more of his cock down your throat. It prevents you from breathing, yet you do your best to appease him, sucking and swallowing him to the best of your ability.
You feel his balls slap your chin as he rocks into your mouth, pleased grunts escaping his lips.
A few more thrusts and you start to feel dizzy, not receiving enough air with the prince's manhood in your mouth and his lower belly pressed up against your nose.
You gently tap his leg and he abruptly pulls away from you, hurriedly moving off of you to stand next to the settee.
You cough as you inhale air once again, looking up at him with glassy eyes and wet lips, shining with spit.
His face is still harsh and demanding, and your gaze flickers down to his cock.
Decorated in your spit, it has grown double in size and is now red; like vexed skin after a beating.
You lay still, breathing rapidly to regain your senses. After giving you a moment to calm, Prince Aemond gestures for you to stand, and sits down on the settee.
He grabs your hips, dragging you towards his lap, and so 'tis your time to straddle him, take his cock in hand and sink down on it.
You know how to play these games. You know how to appease the men seeking your touch. Still, the moan you emit as you take in the prince is not solely performative; the stretch of his member fills you to the point of pain.
You bite your lip in a vain effort to concentrate, set on pleasing and serving your prince. Moving up and down in a slow pace, you grow wetter and more accustomed to his intrusion, and soon, your own pleasure follows.
"A-, ah, Prince Aemond", you call out, hoping the flattery will make him favour you even more. Mayhaps as much as he favours your madame.
He grunts and places his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so he may rest his face against your scarcely clad bosom. He's enjoying you; reveling in your cunt, and it feels like the highest of praise.
You continue to call his title, his name, moving faster and harsher up and down his length, until,
"Brother!"
You catch the flash of a figure stumbling towards you in the corner of your eye, certain you know who it is before looking up;
King Aegon.
His lips are curved into a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded and hair tousled,
"I knew you had it in ya!"
The king ends his exclamation with a slur, clearly far too drunk to be staggering around Flea Bottom unattended.
You'd never been eye to eye with the king before; word around the street was that he found the Blue Pearl far too dull. He requires more to quench his thirst for depravity.
And yet, seeing you ride his brother's cock seems to be to his liking,
"Come on, girl, ride the dragon!", King Aegon shouts before falling into a fit of laughter. His hand smacks your arse as if you were a mare, urging you to go faster.
You search the prince's face for approval, but he's not looking at you anymore. His dark gaze is trained on his brother; still harsh and determined. You take his silence for compliance and move faster; quick breaths of exhaustion and moans of pleasure slipping out from your still wet lips.
"Making her do all the work-",
Aegon's still laughing between the words he slurs out. Standing behind you, one of his hands move to cup your left breast, and he squeezes it roughly; too drunk to appreciate tenderness,
"-I can see why"
Prince Aemond is still silent; still staring at his amused brother.
"No, no, no, this won't do", the king mumbles as he releases the harsh grip he'd had on your breast,
"Remove your gown, bastard"
Again, you seek Prince Aemond's eye for instruction, but he does not grant it. So, you grab the hem of your thin attire and pull it off over your head, exposing yourself to the Targaryen brothers.
'Tis not like you've never been naked before; you entertain most guests nude. Still, there's something about the royals' presence, their ongoing, silent battle, that leaves you feeling more exposed than ever before.
King Aegon hums in appreciation at the sight of your bare teats, the same rough hand coming up to slap the side of one of them, chuckling as they knock together.
You pick up the pace to ride your prince again, yet the king does not leave you be. His voice is still amused, though tinted with something darker, as he commands his brother,
"I want to see you fuck her like a hound, Aemond"
The prince does not reply, and your pace does not falter. You were tasked with pleasuring the prince, and if he did not reply to his brother's orders, neither would you.
Though he is your king.
"Fuck her like a hound! Come on!"
King Aegon sounds more agitated now; impatient. He does not like that his brother does not obey him instantaneously; that he would refuse an order.
The prince is as stubborn as his elder, and in between the brothers, is you;
Caught between two dragons waging a war of wills.
"Get up", Prince Aemond grits through clenched teeth.
You comply, standing swiftly only to be turned and roughly placed back on the settee on your knees.
The prince places a hand on your lower back, pushing you to arch, and enters you in one stroke, reaching far deeper than your previous position had allowed.
He quickly sets a brutal pace; fucking your squelching cunt harsh and quick.
You desperately hold on to the back of the seat, vainly searching for some control as the prince takes his pleasure from you.
Behind you, you hear his laboured breaths and grunts, and the entertained cackle of the king,
"That's more like it!"
He walks around the settee to face you; watching your body as it sways back and forward with the prince's rough thrusts.
Leaning in closely, so closely that his wine-soaked breath is right by your cheek, King Aegon inquires, "How does royal cock feel?"
You know how to play these games.
"Heavenly, your grace"
He hums and touches a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger, "Is that what your mother thought as well?"
He does not bother with waiting for an answer from you; truly, he's not interested in knowing. Instead, he circles the settee yet again to stand next to his brother, mesmerised by the sight of his cock driving in and out of you,
"Where on her will you spill?"
Prince Aemond stays silent, pace never faltering.
“Face, teats or arse?”, his brother asks, but before his stoic sibling answers, he decides for him,
"Spill on her face. You got to appreciate those, uh, familiar features"
A few more rough strokes and the prince pulls out, grabs your waist, and turns you around so that you face them both. He pushes on your shoulder in a silent order for you to get on the floor, once again with his member in your face.
With a quick hand he strokes his slick cock, seed shooting out like arrows, landing on your cheeks, in your hair, on your lips.
He's breathing heavily, yet does not say anything, nor does he moan or grunt. He simply decorates your face in pearly luminescence, matching your silver hair and lilac eyes.
When he's done, he turns, and you see his older brother lay a comradery hand on his shoulder, commending him for "a good fuck".
As the brothers walk away together, you see the tension in Prince Aemond's shoulders ease ever so slightly.
The burdens of being a royal.
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A/N: If the HotD writers want Aemond to be obsessed with his uncle, I'll comply! I like to write these little drabbles as a fun way to practice writing without much pressure, so please be kind, it's all just for fun!
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melosturniolo · 13 days ago
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ride
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summary: what happens when you and matt are left alone in his car for 15 minutes?
warnings: heavy smut, unprotected p in v, public, riding, creampie
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”feels so g-good, fuck“ matt groans as he holds your hips, bouncing you up and down on his cock with a rapid pace. moans leave your lips as you hold matt’s shoulders for stabilization.
you shouldn’t be riding your boyfriend in the backseat of his car, while his brothers are away for maybe 15 minutes. you both knew it was wrong but the idea of this forbidden act just made it harder for you two. you, matt, chris and nick went out to pick up dinner. chris and nick decided to wait in the restaurant for the food, leaving you and matt alone in the car. bad decision.
at first you both exchanged some innocent cute kisses, wich then lead into a heated makeout session, which resulted in you riding your boyfriends cock in the backseat of his car.
“matt-” you moan loudly while matt bucks his hips up to meet yours every time you sink down on him, thrusting himself even deeper inside of you. “that’s my good girl.fuck- looking so pretty bouncing on my cock” he says in a low voice as he continues guiding your hips roughly. the car is filled with you moaning and the wet sounds of his cock thrusting deep inside of you. even the windows are fogged from the heat of your bodies.
you feel your orgasm start forming making you clench around matt’s cock. “c-can’t- matt, m’so close” you say while moaning loudly. his large hands move from your hips to your ass, squeezing it hard while whimpering, making it clear for you he’s also close.
your movements slow down and your legs begin to shake as you hardly clench around matt. you bury your face into his neck, biting on it, trying to muffle down the scream of pleasure. it’s all too much for matt and he follows right behind you, shooting his hot cum into you.
you both are breathing heavily trying to calm down from the feeling of ecstasy. then it hits you both, chris and nick will come back in any moment. matt lifts you up from him and reaches to the front seat for napkins, he tries his best cleaning you both up.
he readjusts his pants while you search for your panties. matt quickly gets out of the car and throws the napkins away. you in the meaning time get back to the passenger seat in the front and turn the ac on.
matt gets back in the drivers seat and the fogginess on the windows disappear, just like the smell of sex does. just then you see chris and nick walk out of the restaurant with the bags of food. you turn the ac off and matt puts his arm around your shoulder. both of you are relieved that you just got away with it.
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I was inspired by the creator @letstrip13 big credits to them!
thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it! I would love some feedback or wishes for the next fanfic. love you~
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cloudcountry · 4 months ago
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since you guys liked my idea so much here it is: WAYS THE NRC BOYS WOULD MAKE YOU WORSE
reader's personality is based more off of in-game yuu than anything? this set of hcs is a bunch of hypotheticals basically. this can be read as platonic or romantic idk each guy is written as if they are the closest person to you, friends or otherwise.
IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT
mentally preparing myself for the "i wouldnt do that!!!!!" comments...and post.
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Riddle increases your attentiveness to the rules tenfold. No matter how meek you are, he makes your voice strong—and oh boy does it carry. You’re yelling at people for running in the halls, chastising them for not doing their homework, and opening your mouth wider when you speak. For a school full of troublemakers like Night Raven, the entire student body is so disappointed there’s another Riddle.
Trey makes you more passive, less likely to speak up when you see something. He’s always stood back in the shadows, watching over everything without saying a word, and it’s seeped into your personality, too. You’re spineless now. This world is unfamiliar, why should you try to do anything? You’d only stand out. You don’t want to be outstanding. You want to be as normal as possible. So you stand back.
Cater gets you wrapped up in the hype of social media. It started out as a way to indulge his interests but now you’re on Magicam all day, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You send things to your friends and say “hey, we should do this” but never make any actual effort to connect with them outside of that. You fall easier into jealousy because you’re surrounded by glamor.
Deuce makes you reckless. He’s so willing to throw himself into things and it spurs you to do the same, no matter how many times your teachers or potential upperclassmen tell you not to. You can’t hear anything but Deuce and his yelling, his enthusiasm and terror for whichever situation you two find yourselves in, knowing that you’d follow him anywhere.
Ace makes you all the more prickly, your sharp jabs and irritating smugness a product of spending too much time with him. You two are two peas in a pod, but to an outsider you two just seem...irritating. You have a talent for getting under people’s skin and have definitely gotten better at lying.
Leona thinks its so cute how you try to defend him at every twist and turn. Like no, he is as dastardly as everyone is saying. Why are you trying to deny it? You’re suddenly seeing reason in the most massive ego-ed people this side of Sage Island and Leona honestly doesn’t know if he should be concerned for you or be amused because of you. (This one in particular was inspired by @loser-jpg LMAO)
Ruggie could have made you prioritize yourself more, but you think he took it a bit too far. See, now you’re snatching cafeteria items and worksheets right under people’s noses, giggling as they demand you give it back. Sometimes they don’t even notice you, but even if they did you’ve learned how to be lighter on your feet.
Jack and you are incredibly uncooperative people (unless you owe someone, of course.) He’s guided you away from asking for help, insisting that the people here will take advantage of you then turning around to say that he doesn’t care, he just doesn't want to get wrapped up in your mess. It’s like you can’t trust anyone but him and your Heartslabyul friends anymore.
Azul has given you one nasty sense of perception, allowing you to key into every little detail and find loopholes in the things people say in a second. He’s turned you into a deadly asset, one he treasures just as much as the student body fears. You read over his contracts and point out what you would do to get out of them, and he adjusts accordingly. What a fine team you two make!
Jade makes it clear that his morals are less than savory, and will often encourage you to partake in things you really shouldn't. You rationalize it as Jade helping you go after the things you want, to finally take and take and take from people when you’ve been so selfless all your life, because it's what you deserve isn’t it?
Floyd will often rope you into his schemes, and it's not wrong before you start doing the same. Once a model student, attending every class, you now skip class and watch with amusement as Floyd threatens another student, hiding your smile behind your hand. They may plead for your assistance, but who are you to stop Floyd? This poor soul clearly owed something.
Kalim instills you with a sense of jealousy and helplessness. He has money to solve all of his problems, his life must be so easy. You’ve lived through so many overblots and received no help from anyone, but Kalim has always been so kind and generous to you. It makes you resent him a little, and anyone else who tries to help, because they all have things that you don’t and that's just not fair.
Jamil twists and bends your mind so much that you can do the very same thing to others. You’ve caught onto his little game and he knows it, eyeing you with anticipation whenever you speak in the same honeyed tone he uses when he wants something. You’ve gotten scarily good at hiding it too, shooting him a smug grin because you know he knows, but nobody else does.
Vil brings out so much confidence in your abilities it’s borderline arrogance. You know you’re capable, so why doesn’t everyone just let you handle this? You can do it, they can’t. So they should just step aside. You’re not doing it to be mean, so why are they getting so annoyed at you? You’re just better.
Rook has some eccentricities, and you’re well aware of them. They put you off at first, but now you’re used to him. It just seems normal now. You’re not sure why everyone makes such a big deal out of his tendencies, that’s just how he is. He’ll stalk you, hunt you down, but he’s having fun! Don’t spoil it for him!
Epel is actually the perfect fit for NRC, you think. He’s a troublemaker, he’s stubborn, and he’s so, so angry. But he’s right! Why should you respect people who claim to be above you? It’s so irritating that they walk around with those annoying smirks on their faces. You two should do something about that, don’t you think?
Idia has a very specific way of talking that can not only be confusing, but can also irritate the hell out of people. Of all things you could pick up from him, you picked up his smug jabs and insults, accompanied by a tooth grin and a laugh. It’s unnerving how much he’s rubbed off on you, a true testament to how close you too are much to the chagrin of the rest of NRC.
Malleus finds so much delight in being your bodyguard, your most trusted companion, that he doesn’t even bat an eye when you use his magic for your own gain. You’ve gotten soft, molding to whatever shape Malleus wants you to be just so he won’t leave. You’re helpless without him, only he has the will and the magic to protect you. So won’t he please stay?
Lilia has a way of dodging the truth, putting a smile on his face even when he’s hurting. It makes you think that, if he can do that, why can’t you? Lilia is smart, he knows how to go about life, so you should follow his lead and bury your problems until they’ll never see the light again.
Sebek has done nothing but berate you for being human since you met him, and even if you’ve gotten closer to him over the course of your stay in Twisted Wonderland, you’re starting to think he’s right. If you had magic, if you weren’t human, you’d be more powerful. It’s a fact. You could do so much more if you weren’t so weak.
Silver has made you complacent. He takes each step carefully, protecting both you and Malleus, so why would you need to protect yourself in any capacity? It’s so nice, having this safety net. If you could, you'd rely on Silver forever, never facing the cruel realities of the world that are blocked by his strong arms.
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hypnagogics · 1 month ago
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THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST SO YUMMM so yeah🧍🏻‍♀️can you write something about streamer ellie <33
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☆: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. definitelyyyy hasn't been...months...anyway. positive this is one of the worse things i've written, but didn't wanna leave you hanging forever! ngl it's pretty filthy..heh.
◇: 18+ pretend those twitch guideline things don't exist. remote control vibrator use, orgasm denial, sub-ish!ellie?? plot twist at the end bc i think im so funny. 1.6k wc. don't mind the layout of this idk what else to do...
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You watch your girlfriend stream her game from your fluffy and comfortable spot on your shared bed—you observe how focused she was on her screen, how her skilled fingers were flying across the keyboard and mouse. It would certainly be a shame to disturb her in such a high tension moment but you think it over, running your finger over the small buttons of the sleek little remote in your hand.
"Yeah, yeah, got 'em! Look at that guys, I fuckin’ aced that!" Ellie rejoices in her victory, and gleefully boasts to her viewers, adjusting her microphone closer and leaning back in her chair.
You're glad you were far off camera, her fans didn't even know she was in a relationship—Ellie made it clear she wanted you to be separate from her hobbies, not because she wanted to keep you a secret, but because she wanted to keep you safe. And you enjoyed watching her stream from the sidelines like this, you saw how her personality captivated viewers and how much fun she really was. But you also enjoyed messing with her on the occasion. Like today.
"Can I watch tonight's stream again?" You asked her eagerly. "Yeah, why not? I'll be doing some tournaments and stuff though, so no distractions." Oops. You bit back a laugh. Ellie immediately sussed out the mischievous look on your face and she sighed, expecting the worst.
Then you showed her the box you've been hiding, "Please let's try, I won't click it too much, I promise." She stared at you for a whole minute, maybe more, before sighing and reluctantly agreeing, rubbing her hands all over her face. "God, fine. Just 'cause I love you. Damn you're evil."
Fast forward to now—the device was snugly inserted inside her pretty pussy, tested out to prove it does in fact work, and works well at that.
So off Ellie went to play her game, getting so caught up in everything she seemingly forgot about the device entirely. In between games she was talking to the viewers, reading the chat and joking back and forth. You decided it was a good enough time to click it so you pressed the button, only for a miniscule zap.
She jerked in her seat, gasping, but quickly recovered with a strategic cough. "Phew sorry guys, something got caught in my throat." You saw a bright berry blush spread across her face, and the way she fought to turn and throw a glare at you. This was going to be fun.
"Alright, the next round’s gonna start, we gotta lock in! Hopefully nothing pops up and this goes smoothly. I can taste the win already.” She put a certain warning tone to her voice in the last part of her sentence, you knew it was meant for you, but were you going to listen? Absolutely not. "Oh yeah chat fun fact, this old area of the map was inspired by ancient ruins just of—ah!" As if her body had a mind of its own, she squirmed in her seat and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a moan when you hit it again, but this time you didn't turn it off right away. You kept it going for a few more seconds, to prolong the terribly delicious sensation.
She screwed her eyes shut tightly and held her breath until you turned it off, mumbling to her viewers about "having hiccups". "The game is starting now, so we really gotta get serious." Her voice had an unsteadiness to it only you could hear, she was keeping her composure rather well so far. But likely wouldn't be able to keep up the act for much longer. Even she has her limits.
As her match went on, she got quiet when she was focused, mashing the keys with a speed fast as sound. Of course, you hit it again, just a short one, causing a choked "guh" to escape from her lips and she twitched when you did so, her facade starting to crack. The effort to keep her voice stable was showing, she was huffing and struggling to get her words out clearly, they were laced with obvious irritation.
"Fuck missed the shot, dammit. Yeah I don't know, somethings up today, sorry guys...off my game." You decided to be nice to her until the game ended, not pressing it further or adjusting the intensity. She played for a little while longer before losing the match, leaning forward on the desk with her face in her hands. This was the perfect moment, so you cranked it up, increased the intensity to maximum, and held the button for the longest time yet, making her whine—a low, drawn out sound she couldn't stifle this time.
You could hear lots of messages being sent, pings in rapid succession, they were probably clipping that moment. Perverts, you thought. 
Her chest was noticeably heaving up and down, her legs spread as she rocks her front against the chair, and she kept her head lowered until you decreased the intensity but didn't turn it all the way off. Her hands were shaking, and her face was a vibrant cherry red, the screen even reflected the sparkle of a couple tears in her eyes.
“What? Oh, I'm just so sad about the loss guys, we were so close—hnn- so…so closeahh—I mean, we should've gotten that…” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip and tapping her fingers on the desk’s wooden surface. “Y’know what, I'll be right back.” She paused the stream, made triple sure her camera and microphone were turned off, then whipped around in her chair to face you, glaring silver daggers your way.
You just giggled innocently and turned the device off again. “What the fuck is wrong with you, this shit is not- not light on you at all.” Her voice was breaking, her pretty features contorted in a beautifully needy expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all watery. Nearly as wet as the mess in her pants. You feigned innocence and shrugged at her, “Well I didn't know it was that strong.” “You knew damn well.” She's fed up with your antics, but you have fun playing with her. She covers her face and leans back in the chair, the embarrassment in her voice the only thing you could hear, “Fuck you...turn it up again, wanna cum.”
You couldn't contain the laugh that burst forth from your chest, then said, “Only if you stream it.” The shock that flickered across her face was priceless, you wish you could have snapped a photo.
“What the fuck do you mean by that, nah forget it.”
“Hey, you gotta finish your stream either way, they're waiting. Would you wanna be so awful and deprive those darlings of your presence?”
You flash her a sugary smile, and she shoots you a murderous look again, before wordlessly scooting back to her setup, fanning herself briefly and readjusting her coppery hair.
Then she turns the stream back on. “Sorry guys, I had to get up for a second. Anyway, let's play one more game. I'm getting kinda tired today. Let's make this one count, lock in like never before.” She takes a deep breath, cracks her knuckles, and begins smacking away at the keyboard buttons. You're able to see the way she looks tense, on edge, anticipating your devilish interruption.
You debate whether you should torture her, but the answer quickly becomes clear. Click.
“Ah—fuck!” She sputters, and roughly slams her fist on the desk. The pleasure was hitting her with full force, she was in her own, lewd, world now. Her head is thrown back, back arched and hips stuttering, the release was about to sneak up on her.
You watch the scenario unfold, licking your lips and pressing your thighs together to deal with the pressure between them. Her unapologetic moans get louder, but for a second she snaps out of the trance to sit back upright, turn the stream off, before the peak hits her like a truck.
“Holy, fu—hah!!” With a squeal she cums, not caring about how fucking loud she was being, wanting to be selfishly absorbed in ecstasy.
She started to jolt around in her seat, the throes of overstimulation making her whimper like an animal in heat, it truly was a sight to behold. You wish you were in between her legs, lapping up her sweetness straight from the source, but in a way, just watching from the sidelines was satisfying enough. You'll clean her up afterward.
Finally you turned it off once and for all, and gazed at her, she was panting heavily, the post-orgasm glow making her rosy skin shimmer in the low light.
“Hmmm, thanks babe, that was so good…” She tried to talk, her head was in the clouds, but she looked at peace.
“You're a whore.” You chortled, and you two shared a laugh.
Although, a flurry of shrill sounds brought you both out of the fantasy. Ping, ping, ping.
Unfortunately she wasn't able to enjoy the aftermath of a mind-numbing session, because her eyes shot open and she began scrambling to find the source of the sound. Your stomach dropped as you watched her panic, her neuroticism infectious.
She looked at you, her eyes wider than saucers, nothing but fear in her voice, “I wasn't able to turn my mic off…”
What was she going to do now?
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if you'd like to be tagged in my fics, click here! thank you for reading. asks, reblogs, and comments are appreciated more than you know. ♡
tags: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @ashaynep @mascdom @xysbree @liddysflyer @fortune777 @brunaedn @bunnitewsilly @mimasroom2 @deliriousrn @infiniteinquiries @thekill3randthefinalgirl @kissyslut @elliesapple
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months ago
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Aegon x niece! reader (Rhaenyra’s daughter) smut please! Aegon has always been in love with her and manages to convince Alicent and Viserys to let him marry her. The reader is just as in love and when they get married, thwir wedding night is full of love and passion and 🫦. Aegon hugging her tight while fucking her and reader whimpering and moaning in his ear 🤌🏽
I received so many requests these past days and got inspiration for a lot of them (14!!), so expect more very soon <3 I'm trying to include everything (smut, angst, action)
Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, p + v, loss of virginity
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Standing in the Great Sept of Baelor, your eyes couldn’t stray from Aegon. Blood was dripping slowly from his bottom lip after being cut after being cut and smeared on his forehead. His frizzy hair had been tamed and the cold of his clothes made the blue of his eyes stand out. 
A dagger was handed to you to cut your palm with. You hissed slightly, watching as blood seeped out. You held your hand away from your pretty dress, not wishing to dirty it with blood, then passed the dagger to Aegon who did the same. He clasped his hand with yours, your blood mingled together as a blood silk was wrapped over your joined hands. 
Queen Alicent wanted Aegon to marry following the Faith of the Seven, but he insisted on Valyrian tradition as the bond by blood was unbreakable. 
‘’Blood of two, joined as one. Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time or darkness and light,’’ the officiant said, reading from an old book. 
Aegon could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t wait to call you his wife, to walk around court with your arm looped around his. And to no longer have a chaperon following you everywhere. It was so annoying. The only times you were able to be alone together was when you would elope on your dragons. 
If your parents thought a chaperon would stop you from sharing kisses and letting your hands wander to places they should not be, they were mistaken. 
The officiant finally allowed you to kiss, and every part of Aegon ached to shove his tongue into your mouth and kiss the life out of you in front of everyone. But he restrained himself, settling for a kiss that would be just enough to make your cheeks flush. 
When the ceremony came to an end, everyone was bright back to the Keep. You rode a carriage with Aegon and your little brother, Joffrey, which you suspected was a scheme by your parents to make sure no sexual activities would happen in the carriage. 
Aegon's hand was resting on your thigh, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear. ‘’This is so frustrating. They really did this on purpose, didn't they?’’ 
‘’It’s not entirely a bad thing. I wouldn’t want you to crease or stain my dress before the feast,’’ you said, smoothing the shimmery white fabric of your dress as you fawned over the gold embroideries. You had never seen a more beautiful gown.  
Aegon smiled smugly, thinking back to your last dragon ride together and the kisses you shared in the clearing…and his hand that slipped into your riding pants. ‘’Little does these fools know, we’ve played them before.’’ Smirking, he leaned in again. ‘’You know what kind of effect you have on me, wearing that dress. Especially knowing what's underneath.’’ He gave your thigh a little squeeze, his hand starting to move upwards just for a moment.
You quickly covered his hand with your own, stopping him. ‘’Stop it. Not here.’’ 
You looked over and saw Joffrey sitting on the opposite seat. Luckily, the boy was too preoccupied staring out the window to notice anything.
A sigh left your husband’s lips. ‘’I don’t want to wait until tonight. I won’t be able to.’’ 
Thankfully, the journey to the Red Keep was short. The doors to the carriage were opened and Aegon stepped out first, then offered his hand to help you out. He took a moment to let his eyes roam over your body, his gaze hungry. Before he could say anything, you pulled him towards the castle and to the throne room where the festivities would be held. Inside, the room was decked out with gold drapes and beautiful flowers — nothing less for a royal wedding. 
The music began as you and Aegon made your first entrance together, your arm linked to his. He had promised to not let you fall in front of the lord and ladies. The guests cheered as you both made your way down the grand aisle, to the large table where your families stood, waiting for you to begin the feast.
As the night went on, you danced and ate cake and indulged in more wine that you would allow yourself to help with the nerves later. You were dancing with Helaena and laughing when you felt an arm snake around your waist and wet lips on your neck.  
You leaned into Aegon’s chest and Helaena took this as her cue to find another dance partner. 
‘’Do you think they will notice if we leave the festivities early?’’ he whispered in your ear, having enough of this feast and wanting to be alone with you. 
You glanced around, searching for your parents. They seemed all involved in conversations with other lords and ladies, but one last pair of eyes was on you: Otto Hightower. Since he caught you kissing in an alcove when you were five and ten, he had been following you and Aegon like a hawk, disproving of your courtship.  
‘’If you can find a way to escape your grandsire, I’ll follow you,’’ you replied. 
Aegon’s laughter mixed with yours as you were running to Megor’s Holdfast where the royal chambers were. It felt like all the times you slipped away from court together to avoid being caught.  
As soon as the door of Aegon’s chambers closed, his lips were on yours and his hands were all over you, grabbing and pulling with a hunger that made your pulse race. The urgency in his movements left you breathless, your body responding instinctively to his touch. 
Clothes were taken off in haste, allowing your lips to kiss more skin. You threw your head back and moaned softly, nails sinking into Aegon's milky skin as he kissed down your neck and to your bared breasts, giving them the attention he's dreamed of. 
‘’Aegon, please,’’ you whimpered, feeling his erect cock prod at your lower stomach. 
He pressed a last kiss to your nipple and nodded, walking you back to his bed. You crawled up to the pillows, making yourself comfortable. Aegon joined you, hovering over you, and studying your flushed face for a moment, before he bent down to kiss your lips again.
You were thankful that your mother had opposed the humiliation of a bedding ceremony. You would never have been able to relax under the eyes of men standing around the bed, waiting for blood to mark the sheets. 
While you were distracted by his kiss, Aegon moved a hand between your bodies to play with your cunt a little, helping you relax and prepare you for his cock. His girth was larger than the fingers he’s inserted before and he didn’t want to hurt you. 
It would be a lie to say you didn't feel anything when he slid into you. The pain was unlike anything you felt before. Seeing the tears prick in your eyes and your pained face, Aegon was quick to sooth you with sweet words until the pain subsided. 
His first thrusts were slow and overwhelming. It was a kind of pleasure you never experienced before. 
‘’I love you, Aegon,’’ you said, seeing stars when he reached a particular spot.
He kissed you sweetly. ‘’I love you.’’ 
You hugged him tight while he moved his hips, his ears blessed by your whimpers and moans.  
A chill blew from the windows, refreshing the warm air after your entercourse. You shivered, clinging to Aegon under the sheets. He closed his eyes, ready for a night of sleep, when your voice stirred him.
‘’Can we do it again?’’ you asked in a whisper, your head resting on his chest while bathing in the afterglow.  
Aegon grinned at the ceiling, thanking the gods for giving him a wife that was just as horny as him.
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mask131 · 11 months ago
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The truth about Medusa and her rape... Mythology breakdown time!
With the recent release of the Percy Jackson television series, Tumblr is bursting with mythological posts, and the apparition of Medusa the Gorgon has been the object of numerous talks throughout this website… Including more and more spreading of misinformation, and more debates about what is the “true” version of Medusa’s backstory.
Already let us make that clear: the idea that Medusa was actually “blessed” or “gifted” by Athena her petrifying gaze/snake-hair curse is to my knowledge not at all part of the Antique world. I still do not know exactly where this comes from, but I am aware of no Greek or Roman texts that talked about this – so it seems definitively a modern invention. After all, the figure of Medusa and her entire myth has been taken part, reinterpreted and modified by numerous modern women, feminist activist, feminist movements or artists engaged in the topic of women’s life and social conditions – most notably Medusa becoming the “symbol of raped women’ wrath and fury”. It is an interesting reading and a fascinating update of the ancient texts, and it is a worthy take on its own time and context – but today we are not talking about the posterity, reinvention and continuity of Medusa as a myth and a symbol. I want to clarify some points about the ACTUAL myth or legend of Medusa – the original tale, as told by the Greeks and then by the Romans.
Most specifically the question: Was Medusa raped?
Step 1: Yes, but no.
The backstory of Medusa you will find very often today, ranging from mythology manuals (vulgarization manuals of course) to Youtube videos, goes as such: Medusa was a priestess of Athena who got raped by Poseidon while in Athena’s temple, and as a result of this, Athena punished Medusa by turning her into the monstrous Gorgon.
Some will go even further claiming Athena’s “curse” wasn’t a punishment but a “gift” or blessing – and again, I don’t know where this comes from and nobody seems to be able to give me any reliable source for that, so… Let’s put this out of there.
Now this backstory – famous and popular enough to get into Riodan’s book series for example – is partially true. There are some elements here very wrong – and by wrong I do mean wrong.
The story of Medusa being raped and turned into a monster due to being raped does indeed exist, and it is the most famous and widespread of all the Medusa stories, the one people remembered for the longest time and wrote and illustrated the most about. Hence why Medusa became in the 20th century this very important cultural symbol tied to rape and the abuse of women and victim-blaming. HOWEVER – the origin of this story is Ovid’s Metamorphoses, from the first century CE or so. Ovid? A Roman poet writing for Roman people. “Metamorphoses”? One of the two fundamental works of Roman literature and one of the two main texts of Roman mythology, alongside Virgil’s Aeneid. This is a purely Roman story belonging to the Roman culture – and not the Greek one. The story of Medusa’s rape does not have Greek precedents to my knowledge, Ovid introduced the element of rape – which is no surprise given Ovid turned half of the romances of Greek mythology into rapes. Note that, on top of all this, Ovid wasn’t even writing for religious purposes, nor was his text an actual mythological effort – he wrote it with pure literary intentions at heart. It is just a piece of poetry and literature taking inspiration from the legends of the Greek world, not some sort of sacred text.
Second big point: The legend I summarized above? It isn’t even the story Ovid wrote, since there are a lot of elements that do not come from Ovid’s retelling of the story (book fourth of the Metamorphoses). For example Ovid never said Medusa was a priestess of Athena – all he said was that she was raped in the temple of Athena. I shouldn’t even be writing Athena since again, this is a Roman text: we are speaking of Minerva here, and of Neptune, not of Athena or Poseidon. Similarly, Minerva’s curse did not involve the petrifying gaze – rather all Ovid wrote about was that Minerva turned Medusa’s hair into snakes, to “punish” her because her hair were very beautiful, and it was what made her have many suitors (none of which she wanted to marry apparently), and it is also implied it is what made Neptune fall in love (or rather fall in lust) with her. I guess it is from this detail that the reading of “Athena’s curse was a gift” comes from – even though this story also clearly does victim-blaming of rape here.
But what is very fascinating is that… we are not definitively sure Neptune raped Medusa in Ovid’s retelling. For sure, the terms used by Ovid in his fourth book of Metamorphoses are clear: this was an action of violating, sexually assaulting, of soiling and corrupting, we are talking about rape. But Ovid refers several other times to Medusa in his other books, sometimes adding details the fourth-book stories does not have (the sixth book for examples evokes how Neptune turned into a bird to seduce Medusa, which is completely absent from the fourth book’s retelling of Medusa’ curse). And in all those other mentions, the terms to designate the relationship between Medusa and Neptune are more ambiguous, evoking seduction and romance rather than physical or sexual assault. (It does not help that Ovid has an habit of constantly confusing consensual and non-consensual sex in his poems, meaning that a rape in one book can turn into a romance in another, or reversal)
But the latter fact makes more sense when you recall that the rape element was invented and added by Ovid. Before, yes Poseidon and Medusa loved each other, but it was a pure romance, or at least a consensual one-night. Heck, if we go back to the oldest records of the love between Poseidon and Medusa, back in Hesiod’s Theogony, we have descriptions of the two of them laying together in a beautiful, flowery meadow – a stereotypical scene of pastoral romances – with no mention of any brutality or violence of any sort. As a result, it makes sense the original “romantic” story would still “leak” or cast a shadow over Ovid’s reinvented and slightly-confused tale.
Step 2: So… no rape?
Well, if we go by Greek texts, no, apparently Medusa was not raped in Greek mythology, and only became a rape victim through Ovid.
The Ancient Greek texts all record Poseidon and Medusa sleeping with each other and having children, but no mention of rape. And the whole “curse of Athena” thing is not present in the oldest records – no temple of Athena soiling, no angry Athena cursing a poor girl… “No curse?” you say “But then how did Medusa got turned into a Gorgon”? Answer: she did not. She was born like that.
As I said before, the oldest record of Medusa’s romance but also of her family comes from Hesiod’s Theogony (Hesiod being one of the two “founding authors” of Greek mythology, alongside Homer – Homer did wrote several times about Medusa, but only as a disembodied head and as a monster already dead, so we don’t have any information about her life). And what do we learn? That Medusa is part of a set of three sisters known as the Gorgons – because oh yes, Ovid did not mention Medusa’s sister now did he? How did Medusa’s sisters ALSO got snake-hair or petrifying-gaze if only Medusa was cursed for sleeping with Neptune? Ovid does not give us any answer because again, it is an “adaptational plot hole”, and the people that try to adapt Ovid’s story have to deal with the slight problem of Stheno and Euryale needing to share their sister’s curse despite seemingly not being involved in the whole Neptune business. Anyway, back to the Greek text.
So, you have those three Gorgon sisters, and Medusa is said to be mortal while her sisters are not. Why is it such a big deal? Because Medusa wasn’t originally some random human or priestess. Oh no! Who were the Gorgons’ parents? Phorcys and Keto/Ceto, aka two sea-gods. Not just two sea-gods – two sea-gods of the ancient, primordial generation of sea-gods, the one that predated Poseidon, and that were cousins to the Titans, the sea-gods born of Gaia mating with Pontos.
So the Gorgons were “divine” of nature – and this is why Medusa being a mortal was considered to be a MASSIVE problem and handicap for her, an abnormal thing for the daughter of two deities. But let’s dig a bit further… Who were Phorcys and Ceto? Long story short: in Greek mythology, they were considered to be sea-equivalents of Typhon and Gaia. They were the parents of many monsters and many sea-horrors: Keto/Ceto herself had her name attributed and equated with any very large creature (like whales) or any terrifying monster (like dragons) from the sea. The Gorgons themselves was a trio of monsters, but their sisters, that directly act as their double in the myth of Perseus? The Graiai – the monstrous trio of old women sharing one eye and one tooth. Hesiod also drops the fact that Ladon (the dragon that guarded the golden apples of the Hesperids), and Echidna (the snake-woman that mated with Typhon and became known as the “mother of monsters”) were also children of Phorcys and Ceto, while other authors will add other monster-related characters such as Scylla (of Charybdis and Scylla fame), the sirens, or Thoosa (the mother of Polyphemus the cyclop). Medusa herself is technically a “mother of monsters” since she birthed both Pegasus the flying horse and Chrysaor, a giant. So here is something very important to get: Medusa, and the Gorgons, were part of a family of monsters. Couple that with the absence of any mention of curses in these ancient texts, and everything is clear.
Originally Medusa was not a woman cursed to become a monster: she was born a monster, part of a group of monster siblings, birthed by monster-creating deities, and she belonged to the world of the “primordial abominations from the sea”, and the pre-Olympian threats, the remnants of the primordial chaos. It is no surprise that the Gorgons were said to live at the edge of the very known world, in the last patch of land before the end of the universe – in the most inhuman, primitive and liminal area possible. They were full-on monsters!
Now you might ask why Poseidon would sleep with a horrible monster, especially when you recall that the Greeks loved to depict the Gorgons as truly bizarre and grotesque. It wasn’t just snake-hair and petrifying gaze: they had boar tusks, and metallic claws, and bloated eyes, and a long tongue that constantly hanged down their bearded chin, and very large heads – some very old depictions even show her with a female centaur body! In fact, the ancient texts imply that it wasn’t so much the Gorgon’s gaze or eyes that had the power to turn people into stone – but that rather the Gorgon was just so hideous and so terrifying to look at people froze in terror – and then literally turned into stone out of fear and disgust. We are talking Lovecraftian level of eldritch horror here. So why would Poseidon, an Olympian god, sleep with one of these horrors? Well… If you know your Poseidon it wouldn’t surprise you too much because Poseidon had a thing for monsters. As a sort of “dark double” of Zeus, whereas Zeus fell in love with beautiful princesses and noble queens and birthed great gods and brave heroes, Poseidon was more about getting freaky with all sorts of unusual and bizarre goddesses, and giving birth to bandits and monsters. A good chunk of the villains of Greek mythology were born out of Poseidon’s loins: Polyphemus, Antaios, Orion, Charybdis, the Aloads… And even his most benevolent offspring has freaky stuff about it – Proteus the shapeshifter or Triton half-man half-fish… So yes, Poseidon sleeping with an abominable Gorgon is not so much out of character.
Step 3: The missing link
Now that we established what Medusa started out as, and what she ended up as… We need to evoke the evolution from point Hesiod to point Ovid, because while people summarized the Medusa debate as “Sea-born monster VS raped and punished woman”, there is a third element needed to understand this whole situation…
Yes Ovid did invent the rape. But he did not invent the idea that Medusa had been cursed by Athena.
The “gorgoneion” – the visual and artistic motif of the Gorgon’s head – was, as I said, a grotesque and monstrous face used to invoke fright into the enemies or to repel any vile influence or wicked spirit by the principle of “What’s the best way to repel bad stuff? Badder stuff”. Your Gorgon was your gargoyle, with all the hideous traits I described before – represented in front (unlike all the other side-portraits of gods and heroes), with the face being very large and flat, a big tongue out of a tusked-mouth, snake-hair, bulging crazy eyes, sometimes a beard or scales… Pure monster. But then… from the fifth century BCE to the second century BCE we see a slow evolution of the “gorgoneion” in art. Slowly the grotesque elements disappear, and the Gorgon’s face becomes… a regular, human face. Even more: it even becomes a pretty woman’s face! But with snakes instead of hair. As such, the idea that Medusa was a gorgeous woman who just had snakes and cursed-eyes DOES come from Ancient Greece – and existed well before Ovid wrote his rape story.
But what was the reason behind this change?
Well, we have to look at the Roman era again. Ovid’s tale of Medusa being cursed for her rape at the hands of Neptune had to rival with another record collected by a Greek author Apollodorus, or Pseudo-Apollodorus, in his Bibliotheca. In this collection of Greek myths, Apollodorus writes that indeed, Medusa was cursed by Athena to have her beautiful hair that seduced everybody be turned into snakes… But it wasn’t because of any rape or forbidden romance, no. It was just because Medusa was a very vain woman who liked to brag about her beauty and hair – and had the foolish idea of saying her hair looked better than Athena’s. (If you recall tales such as Arachne’s or the Judgement of Paris, you will know that despite Athena being wise and clever, one of her main flaws is her vanity).
“Wait a minute,” you are going to tell me, “The Bibliotheca was created in the second century CE! Well after Greece became part of the Roman Empire, and after Ovid’s Metamorphoses became a huge success! It isn’t a true Greek myth, it is just Ovid’s tale being projected here…” And people did agree for a time… Until it was discovered, in the scholias placed around the texts of Apollonios of Rhodes, that an author of the fifth century BCE named Pherecyde HAD recorded in his time a version of Medusa’s legend where she had been cursed into becoming an ugly monster as punishment for her vanity. We apparently do not have the original text of Pherecyde, but the many scholias referring to this lost piece are very clear about this. This means that the story that Apollodorus recorded isn’t a “novelty”, but rather the latest record of an older tradition going back to the fifth century BCE… THE SAME CENTURY THAT THE GORGONEION STARTED LOSING THEIR GROTESQUE, and that the face of Medusa started becoming more human in art.
[EDIT: I also forgot to add that this evolution of Medusa is also proved by strange literary elements, such as Pindar's mention in a poem of his (around 490 BCE) of "fair-cheeked Medusa". A description which seems strange given how Medusa used to be depicted as the epitome of ugliness... But that makes sense if the "cursed beauty" version of the myth had been going around at the time!]
And thus it is all connected and explained. Ovid did invent the rape yes – but he did not invent the idea of Athena cursing Medusa. It pre-existed as the most “recent” and dominating legend in Ancient Greece, having overshadowed by Ovid’s time the oldest Hesiodic records of Medusa being born a monster. So what Ovid did wasn’t completely create a new story out of nowhere, but twist the Greek traditions of Athena cursing Medusa and Medusa having a relationship with Poseidon, so that the two legends would form one and same story. And this explains in retrospect why Ovid focuses so much on describing Medusa’s beautiful hair, and why Ovid’s Minerva would think turning her hair into snake would be a “punishment fit for the crime”: these are leftovers of the Greek tale where Medusa was punished for her boasting and her vanity.
CONCLUSION
Here is the simplified chronology of how Medusa’s evolution went.
A) Primitive Greek myths, Hesiodic tradition: Born a monster out of a family of sea-monsters and monstrous immortals. Is a grotesque, gargoylesque, eldritch abomination. Athena has only an indirect conflict with her, due to being Perseus’ “fairy godmother”. Has a lovely romance with Poseidon.
B) Slow evolution throughout Classical Greece and further: Medusa becomes a beautiful, human-looking girl that was cursed to have snake for hair and petrifying eyes, instead of being a Lovecraftian horror people could not gaze upon. Her conflict with Athena becomes direct, as it is Athena that cursed her due to being offended by her vain boasting. Her punishment is for her vanity and arrogant comparison to the goddess.
C) Ovid comes in: Medusa’s romance with Poseidon becomes a rape, and she is now punished for having been raped inside Athena’s temple.
[As a final note, I want to insist upon the fact that the story of Medusa being raped is not less "worthy" than any other version of the myth. Due to its enormous popularity, how it shaped the figure of Medusa throughout the centuries, and how it still survives today and echoes current-day problems, to try to deny the valid place of this story in the world of myths and legends would be foolish. HOWEVER it is important to place back things in their context, to recognize that it is not the ONLY tale of Medusa, that it was NOT part of Greek mythology, but rather of Roman legends - and let us all always remember this time Poseidon slept with a Lovecraftian horror because my guy is kinky.]
EDIT:
For illustration, I will place here visuals showing how the Ancient art evolved alongside Medusa's story.
Before the 5th century BCE: Medusa is a full-on monster
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From the 5th century to the 2nd century BCE: A slow evolution as Medusa goes from a full-on monster to a human turned into a monster. As a result the two depictions of the grotesque and beautiful gorgoneion coexist.
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Post 2nd century BCE: Medusa is now a human with snake hair, and just that
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gghostwriter · 2 months ago
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If You Love Me Right
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Part 1 || Part 2 Summary: Emily asks an all important question regarding the next step of your relationship with Spencer Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k a/n: Back at it again with something Short n' Sweet. Unsure if this will be the last of this album inspired fics but so far the album is still on repeat. I think out of all the fluff I've written, this is the one where I could just feel how much of a green flag Spencer would be as a partner, if only he wasn't fictional. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist
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“Have you thought about it?” Emily asked, wine glass on hand as she slid into the seat next to you.
The sun was just starting to set, covering the lush backyard in multitude of pink & orange hues. It was a Sunday and Rossi had invited the team and their extended families for an early Italian dinner feast. When Spencer inquired about your availability, it warmed your heart to hear who you are to him.
“Are you sure you want me there, Spence?” your voice coming out soft and muffled as you burrowed yourself further into the warmth of his slender neck. His invitation was a big step in further solidifying the relationship and having been in questionable situation-ships, you had to be sure where you stood.
He pulled back, doe eyes inquisitively staring into yours. His gaze had this way of making you feel known and at home. It was as if his soul has recognized yours from eons ago and needed no further introduction.
“Of course,” his calloused fingers softly pushing stray locks behind your ears. “You’re my person now and it feels right to have you there with me.”
Emily cleared her throat binging you back to the present. “Well?”
“Thought about what?”
She nodded her head in Spencer’s direction. “Having genius babies with our boy genius?”
You softly smiled, watching your boyfriend of one year perform magic tricks for Henry and Michael. It wasn’t like it never crossed your mind. If you were being honest, by the sixth date and the first time he stayed over for the night, the idea of growing old and starting a family with Spencer by your side had started to solidify. 
“Maybe,” you drawled out. A half truth that the seasoned profiler caught on right away.
“And has this—” she lifted her hands to form quotation marks in the air. “‘maybe’ been discussed with the potential baby daddy?” 
You brought the wine glass up to your lips, the outer corner of your lips tugging upwards your face as you took a sip. Dating a man of Spencer’s caliber had given you the comfort and stability to discuss any little insecurity, adoration, and realization without the unease of thinking he’d judge you for it. Gone were those nights of second guessing and reading too much in between the lines and in its place were honest discussions between two consenting adults. 
It was a real breath of fresh air.
“Do you think we should have a baby?” you casually asked, laying on his lap as he was propped up against the headboard with a book on hand. “I mean, not this second but—yeah, do you?”
There was a rustle of pages before a soft thud. “Sweetheart, don’t take this the wrong way but are you by any chance ovulating?”
“Uh—maybe?”
He smiled, looking down at your slowly reddening cheeks. I—uh, have actually been keeping track—” he bit his lip before rushing out to explain himself. “—not to use the information for nefarious reasons but my brain just started to notice the patterns and it feels like an invasion of your privacy and—are you angry?”
“Oh Spence, no. Not at all,” your hand twining with his to stop its nervous movements. “It might be weird but I know you meant well. Now, will you tell me some facts about why you thought I was ovulating?”
“Well, studies had shown that women feel more flirty, sociable, and more physically attractive right before and during ovulation. Some studies also support the idea of increased libido which makes sense since that is the peak window for propagation of the human species.”
You giggled, always welcoming his rambles even if it had to do with your own reproductive system. “Right, but you know what else got me thinking about it?”
A slight scrunch in between his eyebrows appeared as his mind no doubt rewound the day for any trigger. His eyes brightening when it clicked. “Was it the picture of me holding Henry and Michael?”
“Definitely,” you breathed out, starting to feel warm just thinking about how secure his hold was to the newborn babies and that smile on his face that reached his molten hazel eyes and radiated from his whole face.
He pressed feather-like kisses all over cheeks and forehead. “There’s actually also a study on why that affected you so much. It all comes down to women seeing their partners acting as providers—” he cut himself off to land a kiss on your lips. “—I’m not saying no—I’d actually really like that but maybe we can revisit the idea again in two weeks? I want to make sure this is something you really want and not something your biology has dictated on you.”
“Okay, that sounds fair. I love you, Spence.”
“I love you too.”
Spencer’s laughter floating through the air brought you out of your reverie. A slight shiver passed through you—either from the wind or the imagery of him carrying Michael and holding hands with Henry on the other as they slowly made their way back to their mother.
You turned to face Emily, no doubt that the blush on your cheeks giving you away. “Maybe.”
“Huh,” she tilted her head slightly to the left—a subtle tick you’ve grown to read into.
“What?”
Shaking her head, she leaned in to clink her glass with yours and a teasing smile forming on her face. “Nothing. Well—you’re welcome, by the way. And as a thank you, what do you think about naming the maybe baby after me?” 
You laughed. The trio had taken full credit for bringing the couple together—something that they had always brought up like it was their greatest contribution to earth.
A layer of warmth was added to your shoulders and a faint scent of books and wood wafted to your nose. Tilting your head backwards, it was Spencer sans his black coat that was now adorning your body. His garment effectively marking you as an extension of him, as if the necklace around your neck with his initials 'SR' wasn't enough already. A priceless jewelry that had a partner with your own initials that found its home around his neck. “Hi love.”
“Hi sweetheart,” leaning down to give your lips a kiss. “You looked cold.” 
You were both wrapped up in your own little bubble to notice Emily’s eyebrows arching towards her hairline. “It won’t be long now, I guess. So how many?” 
“One would be cute—” your eyes never lingering on his face as if you were tracing the all his angles and memorizing all the stubbles that had started to grow on his jaw line. 
Spencer without further explanation continued on. “—two would be better.” 
“You know, you both have to stop finishing each other’s sentences, it’s getting creepy,” Emily quipped.
You both laughed, turning to face her, and although your gazes were no longer meeting, the gentle caress of his thumb on the back of your hand was enough to communicate everything and anything in between.
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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prokopetz · 3 months ago
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On the origin of oozes:
When googling it seems that ooze type enemies came about with dnd.
Are you aware of earlier origins? It does not seem farfetched to assume that some fantasy book had them before that.
(also, best ooze in your opinion?)
It's broadly correct that the ooze monster in its modern form comes to us via Dungeons & Dragons (with considerable influence from D&D-inspired Japanese console RPGs like Dragon Quest). However, like many other classic D&D tropes, its antecedents were present in the sword and sorcery literature of the 20th Century – ooze monsters just seem like they sprung into existence fully formed in D&D's monster manuals because nobody reads sword and sorcery lit anymore.
While there are no doubt earlier precedents, I'd be inclined to point to early 20th Century cosmic horror fiction as the point where the modern giant-amoeba-like notion of the ooze monster really became a standard trope. We can see a clear prototype of the modern ooze monster in Lovecraft's shoggoths, first described in detail in At the Mountains of Madness (1931), for example; from there, the line to the sword and sorcery literature that would go on to form the basis of Dungeons & Dragons is a short one. This certainly isn't the first example of the type – I just don't have an earlier one at my fingertips.
As for my favourite ooze monster, I've gotta give it to the gelatinous cube, one of the few examples of the type which truly is original to Dungeons & Dragons – in fact, it could only have come from D&D, owing to the peculiarities of its creation. It started out as a sort of dungeon hazard, an "invisible" ooze which concealed itself by being completely transparent and conforming perfectly to the shape of any passage that it occupied; however, since old-school D&D expected players to produce their own dungeon maps as they went, and made their job easier by abstracting dungeon floorplans onto a grid of ten-foot squares, the idea of the gelatinous cube quickly shifted from "ooze which perfectly fills any passage it occupies" to "ooze which evolved to be a perfect ten-foot cube in order to block a standard ten-foot-by-ten-foot dungeon hallway". It's incredibly dumb, and I love it.
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winterarmyy · 1 year ago
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My Person
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.
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Summary: In which Sam's question forces Bucky to reveal his true feelings to his so called "friend", Y/N.
Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader
Words: 3.2k++
Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, fluff, wee bit of angst, bucky is so adorable in this I WANT HIM SO BAD, also he is a bit feral. I feel like he can be more feral than this but you know, he doesn't wanna scare her away lol. This is just a result from surge of need so might not be too much of plot but I hope you enjoy your reading, anyway.
Inspiration: This post right here by @black-cat-2
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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Sam took notice on every single crooks and corners as he followed Bucky's dragging footsteps from behind. It wasn't that he didn't want to help him but Bucky refused the offer right on the bat, saying that the serum will fix him up sooner or later.
The aftermath of their final battle with the flagsmasher was chaotic to say the least. With the splitting sides of public opinions of the new Captain America and the whispers about how the former winter soldier saved a bunch of civilian tonight had been the talk of the town.
But both Sam and Bucky decided not to think of it too much,  especially when both were exhausted from the fight. Not to mention Bucky was injured. Although Sam knew damn well that the soldier can managed himself to a hotel to rest for the night like he always does, but as a worried friend, or rather a babysitter some would say, he insisted to accompany Bucky all the way through.
And Bucky was not in the mood to argue; Sam is as equally stubborn as Steve used to be, so he let the man do whatever he wants.
It was clear Sam was suspicious of where the hell did this terminator brought him to, but mostly he was curious. He thought he would just accompany him to the nearest hotel but nope. After taking an Uber, the next thing he knew, Bucky was leading him into this apartment building, that was obviously not his.
"Last time I checked your apartment was in Brooklyn. When did you get a place here?" Sam asked as Bucky stopped at one of the identical looking doors.
"It's not mine" Bucky replied truthfully as he removed the glove from his fleshed hand and pressed his thumb at the top of the door handle.
Sam eyed him with a look on his face when he sassed at him, "Said the guy who is currently unlocking the doors with his fingerprint."
Bucky simply rolled his eyes before the chiming sound alerts that the door was unlocked. Bucky opened the door to let Sam inside before he himself got in after him. "Seriously, man. If I knew you can afford having two apartments I would've asked you to pay for tonight's dinner. That's the least you can do..." Sam's words died as his eyes scanned the apartment.
Whatever he was expecting the apartment to look like, it was far from it. He surely was not expecting the place to be fully decorated with complete set of furniture in every area of the room. Whether it is the living room area, or the huge kitchen that was also equipped with built-in oven.
Even with the lack of light, Sam could see the color pallette on the walls were definitely not what Bucky would go for. The sentimetal trinkets on the shelves, the sweet fragrant of the scented candles; everything was the very opposite of what Bucky's apartment in Brooklyn looks like, feels like.
This, it felt like home. Warm and inviting. Quiet and serene.
"You know what? I take that back. Whose house have you broke us into?" Sam asked, almost in awe rather than shocked, "I know for a fact that this ain't your house."
Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he remove his tactical gears, "I didn't say it was mine, remember? Or flying with the pigeons in the sky had made you forgot how to undertand human language?" there was an unfiltered sarcasm in his tone that didn't go unnoticed by Sam.
So obviously he got defensive and unknowingly increase his volume as he countered, "Woah woah, that was uncalled for. And for your information pigeons can't fly as fast a my wings, and rest assured that I--"
Bucky swiftly stomped towards him, eyes wide almost in anger, while his metal hand reached to cover Sam's mouth, "Can you shut the fuck up, she's probably asleep and your noisy ass will wake--"
"Bucky?" A tiny yet groggy voice interrupted the conversation causing both of them to turn their attention to the source. The figure peeped itself from the bedroom, her uncertainty made it that only half of her body was revealed through the doorway.
Her squinting eyes indicates how recent she was woken up from her sleep and Bucky flashed a quick glared at Sam for that. Sam simply shrug with his hands the air as a response. He was still confused who is this woman and why were they in her house.
Bucky's tight features softens as he called for her, "Hey, babydoll. What are you doing up?"
Recognizing that voice anywhere her feet made her way to him, "Heard some noises." She answered shortly as her knuckles find her eyes and rubbed it lightly. The closer she gets, the clearer Bucky can see the dark circles under her eyes, signifying how much she was lacking of sleep.
His heart squeeze a little at the sight, "M'sorry, sweetheart." it was as if their bodies were magnets that they naturally found each other. Bucky opened his arms wide for her to find her rightful place in his embrace.
"It's okay" she mumbled against his sturdy chest. "Welcome home." She continued.
You'd be surprise to know how much the former winter soldier absolutely adore the feeling of her lips moving against his skin. Even if it was blocked by the fabric of his shirt. It always felt good and he swore he could not get enough of it.
Bucky leaned down on top of her head, inhaling the strawberry yogurt scent of her shampooed hair, "Yes. I am home, indeed." His hugged got tighter, crushing her just enough to make those pretty little sounds slipped her from lips.
Strings of hushed moan kept purring in her throat when Bucky lightly swayed her from side to side; his fleshed hand drawing invisible circles on the back of her waist, while his metal hand gently squeeze the back of her neck.
If she let him pamper her more than this, they'd probably forget that Sam was in the room. Unabashedly had his mouth agape at the sight in front of him. He was not sure whether he wanted to look away or to continue staring because no amount of explanation will suffice to answer his questions.
Peeking from Bucky's shoulder, she smiled warmly as she finally acknowledge the unexpected guest, "You must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you."
She tried to wiggle an escape from Bucky arms, but it was no avail; he was not planning to let her go any time soon. She ended up dragging the enormous koala bear who was stuck on her back as she offered Sam a handshake, introducing herself.
"Good things I hope." Sam took her hand and lightly shake it as she replied, "Of course." As much as he wanted to keep his eye contact with her, it was extremely hard when the grumpy super soldier that he knew was basically melting in crook of her neck.
"I don't want to be rude but the two of you are..." Sam purposely left his words hanging, hoping that one of them would finish the sentence before he let out his assumption, however both of them remained silent. The woman was blinking at him confused, while Bucky was practically still drooling over the her.
"...Lovers?" Sam ended his sentence with an uncertain tone.
Both of them went rigid to the question but before Bucky could say anything, she answered first, "No!" She almost shouted, taking a deep breath before she rephrase her answer, "No. I mean yes. We're not... like that."
"So, you guys are friends then?" Sam quirked an eyebrow to her answer, and seeing Bucky's silence, he guessed that the super soldier might liked her more than just 'friends'.
"Yup, we are. We first met when Bucky was on the run from Hydra, before you guys found him. It's a long story, really." And by the time she explained the shorten version of their story, Bucky finally drifted his attention to Sam, a deep frown decorated his brows as he was mentally asking, "How much longer are you going to stand there? Get the fuck out."
Sam should be offended by his silent orders but considering he came in the middle of the night, uninvited, he realized that he should leave them be,"Then, let that be a reason for us to meet again. You can tell me all about this meet-cute of yours later. I don't want to keep you away from him any longer. Especially when he is staring daggers at me."
She lightly tapped on Bucky's arms, and quick frown at him followed after as she non-verbally asking him stop glaring at Sam. Needless to say, Sam removed himself from the scene after they, or rather she, bid him goodbye.
As soon as the doors closed, Bucky has her back pressed against the door, wasting no time than to capture her lips. A gasped from her made it easy for him to slip his tongue inside. He kissed her slow yet so hungrily as if he was starved of the taste of her sweet mouth against his.
Bucky broke the kiss momentarily just to whisper, "I missed you so much, babydoll." With his thigh in between her legs, he guided her clothed core to slowly hump against him. "Missed you, too." Her beautiful moans only encourage his cock to swell even more than it already was.
Breaking the kiss, Bucky let her catch a breath as his glazed eyes adored her soft features. He still remembered the day when he first met her.  When he escaped from Hydra's control, he was determined to keep his life down low. Don't attract to much attention, follow the schedule and stick to rules.
And his schedule was never interesting, it was always:
- write his journal entry
- find/do odd and non-permenant jobs for money
- grocery shopping and cooking
- watch the news
- and mostly just stay at home
Obviously, Bucky knows how to use the internet and all those modern devices that they have nowadays, but he never understand them; the 'social media' and the 'viral' things were never really appealing to him. So one day he decided to pay a visit to a small local library; hoping to find fimiliar solace in books instead.
What are the odds that both of them reach for the same book at the same time? After the multiple exchange of: 'Oh, I'm sorry, here take it.' 'No, you take.' 'No, please I insist.' They ended up meeting on a common ground; making a decision to sit down and read together. Turns out, spending a few hours with her at the library was the most peace he had since forever.
Bucky had a strict routine and rules. But the moment she asked him if he want to spend more time with her while she was there, he was ready to break all of it. And he did; for 7 days straight.
She was his first sense of freedom. His first choice in life.
Though, back then he was on a run, for presumably a lifetime, while she was on business trip for a week. So, they lost contact after that, especially when Bucky was running around with the Avengers and fighting aliens, but fate seemed to be on their side when they were reunited again in New York.
It's a miracle that she even recognized him. Little did he knew, he wasn't the only one who got hooked on the first few hours of that reading session had.
Though, he was extremely grateful that she reach out the moment she recognized him; no hesitant, no doubt. Just a confident and cheerful shout of his name in middle of the park that he walks through everyday.
The first thing that came out from her mouth after calling out his name was a compliment of his new hair cut and how she can see his beautiful eyes more clearer now. And that alone had made Bucky absolutely red in blush.
Weeks after that, she often joined him with his daily walk, making it their routine instead of just his. And months into this newly founded 'friendship', they found solace in each other's arms, comfort in each other's touch, and this quickly become their new favourite activity to do together.
Though none of them ever actually discuss their status but their body language suggest that they are more than just friends.
Especially with the way Bucky was rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on her clit; so desperate yet so gentle. Just like how he always does when he makes love to her. But, tonight he felt different. Maybe he was just needy or maybe it was the way she admit that they were not lovers when Sam asked about their relationship.
It was true. But, it felt so wrong.
"Am I just a friend to you, doll? Bucky leaned forward, his forehead met hers, his hot breath tickling her skin.
His tongue briefly passed in between his lips as he spreads her legs further, revealing her dripping cunt for his display, "Do your friends touch you like this, hmm?" His husky whisper as he rubbed his hardened length in between her slit, brushing against her clit.
"Do your friends kiss you all over like me?" She moaned breathily, as he bit and kiss the softness of her breasts; easily leaving his marks as if she was his to claim.
And without any warning, his cock slammed straight into her hole, stretching the walls to his size causing her to yelp in painful pleasure. Bucky let out a satisfied groan as the tightness of her around him, "Do your friends fuck this tight little pussy with their cock like me?"
Bucky couldn’t stop himself from pulling and pushing his hips to meet hers, his fingertips was practically digging into the flesh of her hips, moving her in time with his thrusts, "What am I to you, baby?" Honestly, it was hard for her to form complete thoughts, let alone reply to his question when he was fucking her so good.
Gone was the gentleman she knew for the past years, the koala bear that she spent hours on the couch cuddling to a movie marathon with. Now, there was only this feral beast, hungry for pleasure, insatiable to devour her whole body and soul.
Each roll of his hips pushed her further from her sober thoughts, focusing only on the wild look on his face, his huge body hunched over hers, his throbbing cock kissing her cervix. Any answer she was trying to convey was lost at the tip of her tongue; there were just the mewling mess, as she fell apart underneath him, compliant to his every thrust as his cock ramming within her. "Tell me. Come on, now. Use your words."
Bucky was almost losing his mind, from how bad he wanted to cum and how stubborn she was for not answering his questions. He pushed her legs up and wide as his thrust punctuated to his words,  "What. Am. I. To. You?"
It took her a couple of long moans at his roughness, before she could utter a single word, the only correct answer to his question, "Mine."
He groaned approvingly, pulling back just enough to slide his metal between their bodies. "I'm yours?" Those hard, cold fingers that she loved so much was quick to find her clit. She was already sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and now was he relentlessly assaulting the swollen nub, "Then, does that make you mine as well huh, sweetheart?"
"Yes, Bucky. You're mine. And I'm yours. All yours. Pleasee"
Her back arches off the bed, toes curling tight as her nails dug into his skin and across his back; To have some kind of a leverage to hold as the overwhelming pleasure surged through her body.
"Yeah, that's right, babygirl. You're mine and mine alone. Mine to love, mine to fuck. Yes?" Bucky taunted her with both his words and the way he rutted into her wet pussy, as if he himself was not close to the egde.
The sound of skin to skin clashing intertwined with the sounds of her pussy squelching around his cock, his girth kept pounding straight into her sweet spot to the point that only lewd whimpers of plead were spewing out of her lips, "Yes, yes yes. Oh Bucky please,, fuck,, I'm cumming!"
"Cum, sweetheart. Let me feel that tight little pussy of mine cum around my cock" He hummed approvingly as he picked a deeper and harsher pace, causing her mouth to fall wide open and her eyes screwed shut as she felt her whole body shook as she came. "Yeah,, that's it, doll. That's my girl. fuckkk,, feels so good baby, gonna make me cum inside you if you keep choking me like that."
"Please, Bucky?" A breathy moan of his name passed her lips as she her walls spasm with need. Bucky groan to the sensation, he was sure that her pussy was already full of his precum, considering how it has been leaking inside her for so long, "Want my cum in you, pretty girl?"
Batting her eyes through her lashes, she stared up at him, pleading., "Need it, please."
"Oh fuck, you got it, sweetheart." Throwing his head back in pleasure, shutting his eyes solely to focus of the feeling of her wet and tight cunt, Bucky's pace quicken as he chased his high, "Hmmm,, fuckk,, gonna stuff you full. You'll leaking for days, babydoll. Then, I'm gonna keep filling you until you can't live without my cum inside your pussy."
Hearing such dirty confessiom only triggers her to near orgasm, "Yess pleasee i want it. Need it, bucky." Surely enough she came again when he hit that special spot inside her.
"Ahh,, fuck ahhh,, I'm cumming shit pussy so good m'cumming fuckkkk", Bucky couldn’t even stop himself from rutting in and out of her sweet pussy as his cock pulsed, especially when her cunt was sucking him in deeper.
His head fall down to watch his cock disappear inside her before squeezing it shut again when the white spurt of cum shoots against her walls. His jaw was loose as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape to allow his loud groans contaminated the silenced room.
His thick endless cum warm her insides and the honeyed moans hanging off her lips to its own accord as Bucky hunched over her frame, pressing his face in crook of her neck, breathing heavily as she was. After awhile, a broken sound of his voice stopped the silence, "Do you really mean it?"
He refused to look at her in the eyes, afraid of the rejection that might come his way but she proved him wrong by holding him by his cheeks, leading his eyes to align with hers,
"Bucky. You, my dear, are my bestfriend; you are my heart, you are my person. And there is no one in this world that I'd rather spend my whole life with besides you." Her words was nothing but the truth and Bucky knew that.
His heart swelled with joy yet he didn't know how to express it other than, "I love you, doll..." there was pause as if he was gathering the pieces of his soul to offer it to her, "...So much."
And she accepted it with her whole heart, "I love you too, Bucky."
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: I was gone for awhile but never too long. Hope you enjoy this little drabble 👀
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