#silver coins

[destined-productions]

Just wrapped up the new Collector Mode for Mighty Marbles! In this mode, you’ll chase down coins hidden in tricky spots you might skip in Standard Mode. Think you can collect them all? Now with super shiny coins! I love shiny things!

I love making this game with passion and I am so excited to share it with the world, but somehow I need to let the world know. Unfortunately the way steam works is the more wishlists the more visibility, so if you are interested it is super appreciated :)

Wishlist on steam or visit the website to find out more mightymarbles.com

[blueiscoool]

1,000-Year-Old Norman Conquest Coin Hoard Sells for $5.6 Million

A hoard of Norman-era silver coins unearthed five years ago in southwestern England has become Britain’s most valuable treasure find ever, after it was bought for £4.3 million ($5.6 million) by a local heritage trust.

For the group of seven metal detectorists who discovered the 2,584 silver pennies in the Chew Valley area, about 11 miles south of the city of Bristol, it marks a lucrative windfall since they will pocket half that sum. The landowner on whose property the coins were found will receive the other half.

According to South West Heritage Trust, the body that acquired them, the coins date from around 1066-1068, spanning one of the most turbulent periods in English history as the country was successfully invaded for the last time during the Norman Conquest.

One coin, the oldest in the hoard, depicts King Edward the Confessor, who died childless in January 1066, triggering a period of instability since he had promised the throne to three claimants: Harold Godwinson, Earl of Wessex; Harald Hardrada, King of Norway; and William, Duke of Normandy.

Edward named Harold Godwinson as his successor on his deathbed, but the newly crowned King Harold II faced challenges from the other two claimants to the throne, and he was eventually defeated by William at the Battle of Hastings in October 1066.

The hoard of coins depicts this turmoil as Harold II features on just under half of them while William I (also known as William the Conqueror) features on the rest.

“It comes from a turning point in English history and it encapsulates the change from Saxon to Norman rule,” Amal Khreisheh, curator of archaeology at South West Heritage Trust, said in a video on the organization’s website.

“The hoard was buried in around 1067-1068 on an estate in Chew Valley which later belonged to Giso, the Bishop of Wells. We think it was probably buried for safekeeping during the time of rebellions against William in the South West.

“We know that in 1068, the people of Exeter rebelled against William. At around this time, Harold’s sons returned from exile in Ireland and their forces mounted attacks around the River Avon and then down into Somerset and the Chew Valley,” Khreisheh added.

Finding coins that were in use almost 1,000 years ago is exceptionally rare – this hoard contains twice as many coins from during Harold II’s reign as had previously been found.

The coins will now go on public display at the British Museum in London from November 26, before heading back to museums in southwest England.

[theantonian]

Silver coin of Mark Antony

Roman period ca. 40-31 BC

Drachm of the Roman General and Triumvir Marcus Antonius from Antiochia ad Orontem.

Obv. Bust of Mark Antony facing right. Rev. Head of Tyche facing right Inscribed, ΑΝΤΙΟΧΕΩΝΜΗΤΡΟΠΟΛΕΩΣ (of the metropolis of the people of Antioch)

The mint of Antioch produced a drachm coinage in its own name, but with a portrait of Antony on the obverse. On the reverse appeared the head of Tyche with the legend 'of the metropolis of the people of Antioch'. The date of the issue cannot be determined with precision. In concept, this coinage is analogous to, though of higher value than, the city bronze coinages with Antony and Cleopatra's portraits.

from The British Museum

[arcielee]

Silver Coins

Summary: You are paid to be a pleasure for the baby monk. Paring: Osferth x Female!Reader Word Count: 2374 Warnings: Smutty smut, inexperienced Osferth, oral sex (m and f), p in v. Minors DNI. Author's Note: This is for @eddiemadmunson ♥ I agree there is not enough Osferth fics and there should be more. Here’s just some smutty fluff one shot for your ask. ♥ Also, my Osferth is book canon.  Update: Link for part 2! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy​

Osferth was tall and lean, with an awkward grace to his movement as he sat himself into one of the chairs within your chambers. He kept his feet on the cobblestone and his large palms gripped onto his thighs. 

You thought him to be handsome in a way that was so uniquely his own. What made you agree to this had been when you first saw his eyes. They were a brilliant blue that held no judgment when you spoke to him earlier that night, how they shone with a kindness that you could not recall ever seeing in the gaze of a man before. 

“I am looking to bed one of Uhtred’s men,” your tone was purposefully coy and you relished in the pink that dusted his cheeks.

Oh, the word barely left his bow lips and your touch was gentle to take his hand; his palm was calloused and warm, with long, slender fingers that wrapped around your own in response. He allowed you to pull him away from the crowd, which included the grinning fools that were Sihtric and Finan, and you led him to your room below the tavern.

This was where he now sat, so uncertain as to what to do with his hands. 

You reach for the knot of your wrap dress, removing the layer to reveal a satin chemise you wore beneath. It was soft and fell to your curves, your nipples pebble beneath from the cool air.

His eyes are wide at the sight of you, his pupils swallowing the beautiful blue and his tongue wet his lips. “My lady,” his voice almost a whisper, “I must admit to you, I have not bed a woman before.” 

You were already aware of this, but chose to tease him, moving closer towards him. “Are you not the same man who slain Sigefrid?”

He nods with the tousle of his dirty blonde hair, his gaze shyly cast downwards. 

You are now in front of him, your finger curling beneath his chin to bring his eyes to meet with your own. “Well, I admit that I have never killed a man before, so may I suggest a fair trade,” you continue with a smile. “You can share with me how you killed Sigefried and I will share with you the secrets of my trade.” 

You lean closer and his exhale fans your cheeks, his eyes still wide as he processes your words. “But, my lord, I insist you remove your boots first.”

“Yes, my apologies,” he stammers and you step back with your smile, watching as he is quick to unlace and remove them. His long legs brought him across to place them by the door, then turning to face you again.

Your smile renews at the sight of his bare feet, pale against the grey cobblestone, and you move towards him. He is watchful of how the satin breathes against your curves with your every step closer until you can place your hands, gentle to the touch, on his chest. His breath draws as you come up to your toes and press your lips against his own. 

Osferth seems to balk against your mouth, his lips pressing together and stilting in response, his arms stiff at his sides.  

You pull back, your brow quirks as you see his blue eyes still wide and nervous. “Osferth,” you honey your tone, a gentle smile to your lips. You reach to touch his hands and they relax against your own, following your pull to rest them against the small of your waist. “Do not think, just kiss me.” 

His gaze falls to your mouth and he tilts his head, his lips soft and warm against your own. Your mouth opens slightly, your tongue touching his bottom lip and you can feel him smile. His hands grow bold, pulling you closer against his chest, meeting with the tempo you set. You open your mouth more to deepen the kiss, his tongue following the languid pacing of your own; you nip at his bottom lip and he groans in your mouth.

The sound melts you against his hard chest, enjoying as his large palms trace the curves of your hips and cradle the small of your back. You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers move to comb through his golden locks. 

He steps and turns you to press your backside against the door, pressing against you and a moan spills from your kiss-swollen lips when you feel his hard length push against your stomach. 

“Osferth,” you whisper and he looks pained as you pull away, until you reach for the belt knotted around his slender waist that holds his albe in place. He helps remove the layers until he is bare waist up, his muscles taut and there is a patch of hair across his chest. 

Your eyes admire the planes of his abdomen and the lines that dip below where his trousers hung. Your mouth waters at the bold outline of his crotch against the fabric. 

Baby monk, you think, incredulous, to yourself and you reach to slip your fingers in the waist and pull him to the bed edge. Your fingers work to unlace and his trousers puddle at his feet; he steps out and backwards until he touches the bed and sits down, watchful and waiting for your lead.

The sight of him bare leaves you almost timid, there is a growing anticipation combined with the warmth wet from his kisses, his touch, between your thighs. You exhale slowly through your open lips, stepping forward and kneeling before him.

He is resting on his elbows, unaware of your slight trepidation to his size, his gaze curious as your hand reaches to curl around his member. A blush returns to his cheeks, the rose color matching his tip and your thumbs wipes the bead of precum, rubbing beneath which elicits a groan that rumbles from the back of his throat. 

Embolden, you move to bring your tongue flat to the underside and follow until your lips wrap around the head, your tongue tasting the hint of him. He groans again when your head begins to move in tandem with your hand, up and down his length to coat him with your saliva.  

You pull back and he watches as you lift your chemise over your head to bare yourself, his jaw slightly slack as his eyes drink in your figure. Your cheeks grow warm with the adoration of his gaze, stepping closer to straddle him and he sighs sweetly with your warmth pressing against his cock. 

He groans when you slowly rock your hips, your silken folds smooth with your spit, sliding the length of his member before your hand reaches to line him with your entrance. 

You are slow to lower yourself, in part to savor the delicious stretch as he fills you, another to try and adjust to his size. Your nails bite into his shoulders and his arms are gentle when they wrap the small of your waist, pulling you flush against him, his chest hair tickling your breasts, and he buries his face into your neck. You gasp when his tongue tastes you, clenching in response, and he groans louder.

“I need but a moment,” your voice is small with the confession.

“My lady, take as long as you need,” he breathes into your neck and your skin rises from the touch of his lips. “We may stay like this all night, if it pleases you.” 

You pull back to look into his eyes, how they shine with an earnestness, and you find his mouth, your kiss slow and searching. He sighs and you begin again to rock your hips into him; you can feel his hold relax, the warmth of his palms as they settle onto your hips and pull you against him.

The motion allows him to reach deep within you. You rest your palms onto his chest and push him to lay back on the bed, your hands bracing as you quicken your rhythm. A soft moan spills from your lips and another groan escapes the back of his throat when your cunt begins to flutter around him. 

You slow your pace, wet lewd noises filling the intimate space. “Please,” he begs. “Show me how to touch you.” 

He bites his bottom lip when you take his hand, bringing his thumb to your mouth. He sighs again when your tongue curls the digit, enclosing your lips around and then pulling it back, a line of spittle from your mouth that breaks and falls to your chin. You lower his palm to fit against the inside of your thigh, pressing his thumb into the bloom above where his cock continues the pace, in and out. 

Your moan starts soft. “It’s…it is that, can you feel…” your voice mewls with his guided touch. 

“I, yes,” there is a sheen of sweat to his features, his focus drawn and torn between admiring the curves of your movement and where his hand now rests. “Right…here?” 

His touch coils the passion in your lower abdomen. “Yes,” your cries wanton and it gives him a confidence to his touch, also quickening his upwards thrusts to meet with your motion. Stars dance in front of your eyes and he moans as your climax rolls in waves, clenching at him for his own release. 

“Oh, God,” he cries out and you feel him pulsating within your velvet walls with his own peak. 

You fall and curl against him, he brings you to the side and waits until your heart rate settles. He is reluctant to let you go, but you give him a kiss, moving to the basin and pouring from the pitcher, grabbing a cloth to wet and wring. You clean yourself before grabbing another, returning to him. “It will be cool,” you warn, your touch gentle. 

Osferth hums his pleasure, “Allow me to stay and we can warm beneath the furs.”

“That was my plan already, lord,” you reply and he smiles with your words.

Curled beneath the furs, he is on his side with one arm holding his head up and his other palm resting beneath your breasts, his eyes watching them rise and fall with your steady breaths. He shares the truth of Sigefried, how he climbed the wall while the men fought, and confronted the Dane and plunged his dagger into his stomach. 

“Were you frightened?” You shiver with your question, turning your head to look at him.

He smiles and you see his cheeks line with dimples. “I admit, in the moment, I did not have the time to dwell on fear, but I can recall that my hands were shaking.” 

You touch his hand, yours so small in comparison to his own. “You did what was needed,” you say and bring his fingertips to your lips.

He leans forward to find your lips once again, another sweet kiss. “Would you allow me…” his voice trails off, a blush to his features as he hems for the words that will allow his hand to move lower. 

You touch his cheek to hold his gaze. “Osferth, I am yours tonight.”

There is the added sweetness of your expressed consent, his willingness to listen to your soft hums of guidance as he nestles between your thighs. His lips are so soft, his breath warm on your cunt, and he is quick to understand and match his ministrations with your soft sighs. The curl of his finger within you was sinful, that begins as a gentle prod until you mewl his name and he continues without complaint until he feels you clenching your release. 

The morning comes too soon and you begrudgingly leave the monk, who is sound asleep on his stomach and bare next to you. You dress quickly, fasten your cloak and your fingers check the pocket’s contents before you come to the bedside with a gentle kiss to wake him. 

His brow quirks when he realizes you are already dressed. “Where are you going?” His voice husky with sleep. 

“I am going to the kitchens to have something prepared for you,” you kiss him again and he hums at your touch. “Dress and come meet me upstairs?” 

He nods sleepily and you move to leave, your cloak billows with your steps as you walk the corridor and take the stairs up, two steps at a time.

The tavern is empty and smells of spilt ale from the night before, mixed with the spices that waft from the kitchen. You fill two plates and return to place them on an empty table, when the door opens and the silhouettes of Finan and Sihtric fill the door frame. 

“We’re closed,” you call to them, a smile to your lips. You move towards them, reaching into your pocket and tossing the felt pouch that hits Finan’s chest. 

His brow furrows but he catches it, the soft jingle of the coins it held. “This silver was for you to bed the baby monk,” he says. 

“Yes,” you reply, your eyes narrowing onto him. “I am returning it to you, no coin spent.” 

Before another word can be said, his dark eyes look past you and you turn to see Osferth surfacing. His hands pat his locks down, a smile on his face when he catches sight of you. 

You move towards him, leaving the Irishman and the Dane, and move to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips to your own one last time. 

He responds without the embarrassment from last night, softening against your touch and you smile when you pull back. “Do you have time for break fast?” 

There is a beat of silence, with Osferth blushing from your affection and Sihtric dumbstruck, before Finan finally speaks. “Afraid not, missus. Lord Uhtred requires us to ride out. We have much to discuss today,” he moves forward to clasp a hand on Osferth’s shoulder, pulling him towards the door. 

You sit down on the bench, picking at one of the plates and watch them tuck the monk between, grinning fools and arms draped around his shoulders, pushing through the door and into the morning light. 

arcie’s masterlist

[apop-lol]

I completely forgot about Tumbler

I have a current picture with Silver

[meamiki]

i was doodling my friend and i as some of the characters we voice during streams. then this happened ASFASDA.

design went

draw miki (my beloved oldest oc and sona) as... loop??? -> wow this is cursed (miki ONLY has a mouth) -> okay different direction -> nebula ????? -> get lost loop is only a vague inspiration at this point -> remove arms thumbs up -> this ASDASFASDA

isat spoilers upwards to end of game below (lil vague but still)? and artfight below lmao

vvv

my thesis statement for miki as a character is "fucked around and found out" so doing this to them is funny to me. putting them into Situations entertains me. no further elaboration :)

also. i may or may not being artfight this year? it'd be my first time participating because theme....

i have been workin on a couple of oc refs?? goal is like 4 ocs + my sona at least, 2 of them are doneish. maybe more. if i have extra time. i have over 30 characters i need refs for in general so. i do not know. here is the link. very very WIP atm only one up atm so yea! drawing ppls ocs is fun!!!

also i do not know if i can/will put this design up? if i can/do i will definitely be removing the red. and the silly mouthed loop. and any allusions to spoilers whatsoever. LMAO. and ofcofc saying this is an isat oc/sona!! credits are important!!

okay thats it thanks for reading the tiny ramble :]

[vox-anglosphere]

A new silver coin commemorates the accession of King Charles III

[robotblues]

Didrachm, Greek, 281-272 BCE

[im-just-a-silly-lil-guy]

milk tea stimboard

[omormoment]

Im gonna spin the stranger by the tail like a yo-yo swingin' trick

So cruel

[dulalkarmakar]

#Post_0001

⭐⭐ One Quarter Anna 1901 Victoria Empress British India Copper Coin Unique. ⭐⭐

🔰🔰 Additional Information 🔰🔰

⚡⚡ Details:

One Quarter Anna 1901 Victoria Empress British India Copper Coin

This Coin Issued By 1901 This Is a Copper Coin 100% Genuine Item With Life Time Guarantee.Shop Safe With 7 Return and Rufund Police

Issuer : BRITISH INDIA

Queen : VICTORIA

Type : Standard circulation coin

Years : 1877-1901

Currency : Rupee (1862-1947)

Composition : Copper

Weight : 6.4 g

Diameter : 25 mm

Shape : Round

⚡⚡ Precious Coin 🪙

[thepastisalreadywritten]

23 September 2024

[blueiscoool]

17th-Century Silver Coin Hoard Discovered in Wettin Germany

Archaeologists from the State Office for Monument Preservation and Archaeology Saxony-Anhalt (LDA) have discovered a large 17th century coin hoard during construction works at a farmstead in the town of Wettin, Germany.

Situated in the heart of Wettin, the farmstead has been maintained by the Altstadt Wettin e. V. since 2018. The organisation is dedicated to preserving the town’s cultural heritage, which is at risk of being demolished due to modern development.

The bourgeois farmstead dates from the 16th to 17th century and can be traced to the time of the end of the Thirty Years’ War via written sources. From 1681, the building served as the town’s pharmacy, as indicated by remnants of an 18th-century baroque stucco ceiling and an Apotheke vault.

Construction work at the farmstead has uncovered a hoard of 17th-century coins in the gate area leading to the central courtyard. Archaeologists found 285 silver coins in layers of compacted soil, which were sent to the restoration workshop of the LDA Saxony-Anhalt.

The hoard was likely deposited in the late 1650’s, with more than half of the coins being silver thalers, a currency used by several states of Northern Germany, first under the Holy Roman Empire, then by the German Confederation. The rest of the hoard consists of thaler fragments and various groschen coins.

Among the hoard are the so-called Schreckenberg grochen coins and Albertus thalers minted in the Spanish Netherlands. There are also coins minted by the German emperors, the Duchy of Brunswick-Lüneburg, the Archduke Albert VII of Austria, and King Philip IV of Spain.

According to the LDA: “In addition to its scientific significance, the Wettin coin find is also an excellent example of the important contributions that voluntary work in close cooperation with the responsible authorities for the preservation of buildings and archaeological monuments can make to our knowledge of the history of Saxony-Anhalt.”

By Mark Milligan.

[theantonian]

Fulvia AR denarius issued by Marcus Antonius. Rome mint, ca. 42 BC, 3.5 gm, 17.0 mm. Ob. draped bust of Fulvia as victory. Rev. victory in biga holding reins of two horses. Inscribed, L MVSSIDIVS LONGVS

Mark Antony's 2nd wife Fulvia was the first roman woman to be portrayed on coins. Beautifully toned attractive portrait of Fulvia Flacca Bambula. Somewhat rough around the edges and the reverse struck slightly off center, otherwise, very fine.

[arcielee]

Peace Beneath the City

Summary: Years have gone by and you receive a familiar visitor. Paring: Osferth x Female!Reader Word Count: 3052 Warnings: Smutty smut, we got season 5 Osferth coming in with the d that they were fighting over, oral (female receivng), p in v. 18+ MINORS DNI. Author’s Note: Thank you @aspen-carter​​ for being my beloved beta reader, seriously you all would unfollow my ass if I posted without her sage insight. Anyway, here is part 2 of Silver Coins as per the poll I posted! It’s smutty, it’s sweet, it’ll pull at your heartstrings (maybe). Enjoy! ♥  Dividers by @jaysdividers​ Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon​ @annikin-im-panicin​ @watercolorskyy @eddiemadmunson​ @schniiipsel​ @aaaaaamond​​ @tssf-imagines​​

The old man who owned the alehouse was considered a philanthropist for the growing city, an elder in this regard who would help with the affairs. You thought yourself fortunate that he was always kind to you and the other girls, with a sense of kinship for the mismatched gathering beneath the roof.

When he passed and it was known he had no children of his own, it brought forward a slew of greedy claimants who tried to take ownership of the tavern and by proxy the whorehouse below.

This was when you and the girls dared to step forward, bringing your combined silver saved from the years and demanded ownership, demanded your freedom and for the right to own yourselves. 

Their response was the threat of riots, their reverberation for violence rolled throughout the city and promptly died at the feet of Lord Uhtred and his men. Perhaps it was luck, or maybe the mercy of the gods, that they happened to arrive that day, intrigued by the city brimming with chaos. Lord Uhtred was quick to remind them of the faithful peonage served and how it should be rightfully rewarded with ownership; he then continued to boast of the sound mind you possessed and his faith for you to take on this vacant role. 

Most importantly, he told them that if they decided to keep the tavern still, that you, as well as the other women who rallied behind, would leave the city and return with them to Coccham. 

Your face was flushed and you had no words as you watched the title be signed to your name.

That night was a celebration for the new era in the city of Gloucester. The cups brimmed with ale and you were able to find Osferth in the crowd; it had been several months since the last night you spent with him and you felt the warmth pool between your thighs at the sight of him. You were bold to seat yourself in his lap and table cheered when you wrapped your arm around his neck and pulled him in with a soft kiss; he grinned with your affection. 

He stayed with you that night and it was just as sweet as before with his same eagerness to please you. He was adamant to practice your trade secrets and you adored him for being quick to learn, responsive with your soft moans and hums for direction. 

You had been heartsore to see him leave and you declared that they were forever welcomed within the city walls. It was a new day to embrace new responsibilities and the decree let it be known that you and your own were protected by Lord Uhtred. 

The city of Gloucester was on the apex of the river Severn, at the cusp of Mercia and the crossroads where travelers, traders would pass back and forth from Wessex to Wéalas. You showed that you were savvy with your role and there was an unspoken accord that the city was a sanction, a place where Dane, Saxon, or other could come to trade, rest, drink, and fuck in peace. 

You became the revered Madam of the city and it began with you moving your belongings upstairs and renovating the downstairs amenities, having them cleaned and properly furnished. You were the known shrewd haggler, creating partnerships to guarantee stock, food and ale for your establishment and its residents. With the growing respect, you were able to convince space to be made and stalls created for the passerby merchants, which allowed the small economy to thrive. 

The city adored you and the peace continued, with a harmony that welcomed when Lord Uhtred returned. On this night, the tavern was thrumming with life and your eyes danced over the men, your cheeks flushed as you searched for him.

Lord Uhtred was seated at the head of one table, with his men around and some already partnered with your girls. You could see Sihtric, his hint of a smile as he drank his ale, and Finan with his cheeky grin, glowing as the ladies were vying for the attention of the handsome Irishman. 

And then you spotted him. 

There was maturity from the years that had passed. Baby monk, as you remembered Finan and Sihtric crowed, was no longer suitable for the man who entered. You noticed that his face had leaned, his features had hardened but that his cerulean blue eyes still twinkled when he saw the men. He held himself with a severe pride, his shoulders broader, perhaps from the years of fighting, but he still moved with the same grace as he weaved through the crowd and came to seat himself. 

You knew the years had changed you as well and with that thought, came that flutter of trepidation down your spine, though your steps still brought you towards where they all were now seated. Your hands were nervous and smoothed the silk of your wrap dress that hugged to your womanly curves; your curls were worn down and billowed with your walk. Your face was bare, as you no longer felt the need to paint it to appease men; in fact, you had not taken another man to your bed since the last time Osferth had been in the city and this was because…

Well, he was different. 

Despite your unease, there was also the warmth that coiled in your lower abdomen and gave a determination to your steps; you called out for their cups to be refilled and you were greeted with the uproarious response of Lord Uhtred and his men. You felt a hitch in your chest when you saw how his face glowed with his recognition, how his eyes watched you move to his side, a soft touch to his shoulder and you leaned forward to whisper in the shell of his ear, “My lord, you are welcome to stay in my bed this night, if it pleases you.” 

You watched him through your eyelashes, coy with your demeanor, and felt the flutter of pleasure as you watched the severity etched onto his features soften from your touch, how your words made him redden with your proposition. He looked into your eyes and you saw the same kindness as before, then he reached to pull you onto his lap. A giggle spilled from your lips and the men cheered even louder, drinking to good health, good fortune, and to good friends.

With the commotion, Osferth nuzzled into your neck and you felt the tickle of his lips to your ear, his voice low. “You are always a pleasure, my lady.” 

You shivered with delight at his words and there was a comfort against his chest, you felt almost girlish with how your feet almost touched the tavern floor from your seat in his lap. As the men regaled with tales of their adventures, you felt his large palm move around your waist and rest on the outside of your thigh, the gentle caress of his thumb. When you shifted your weight, you felt his hardness beneath your bottom and your cheeks grew rosy, a heat that pooled between your thighs. 

Osferth noticed the shade of red and when you looked into his eyes, his hand moved to squeeze the softness of your hip and he gave you a sly wink. 

The anticipation bullied you; it grew late and the men paired off, you were quick to slide from his lap and take his hand into your own, all but dragging him upstairs. Your face blushed again from the good natured catcalls from Finan, Sihtric, and the remaining company; your head remained high, but you stole a look to see the shy smile on his face as he followed your steps. 

Your room was cool from the night air that came through the windows, the soft flutter of fabric from the curtains you took care to hang. You turned on the ball of your foot to see him stop in the doorframe, bending over to remove his boots. 

Your hand moved to cover your smile, touched with his gesture, and he peered up at you, his face brightening with a grin of his own. He took care to set them by the door and your feet padded soft across the rugged floor; you pressed against his chest and tilted your chin up to find his lips.

They were soft and warm as you remembered; his large hands roamed your body, one that cupped the back of your neck to deepen the kiss and his other gripped into your hip. You moaned into his mouth and his tongue pressed forward to taste you, the slow motion to savor before his kisses trailed your jaw and fell to the junction of your neck. You sighed and melted flush against his chest when he nipped his teeth against your pulse, gooseflesh rippled over your skin that showed. 

“My lord,” you breathed, daring to tease him. “You kiss like a man starved.” 

He pulled back and you see the upward curl of his bow lips. “My lady,” his voice was low like before. “You, of all people, may simply call me Osferth.” 

Your eyes met with the brilliant blue of his own and you saw they still held that same genuineness as before; you reached to trace his jaw and stepped closer still, your lips finding his once again. 

His arms wrapped around the small of your waist and picked you up enough for your feet to not touch the floor; you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, enjoying his woodsy musk mixed with sweat and ale. 

Osferth was careful to eye the bed and his long steps brought you to the foot of it; you felt  his hold relax and once the floor was beneath you, your hands were quick to unfasten his embossed leather and help him remove the albe underneath. You stopped and allowed your eyes to wash over his matured form, the crimson returning to your cheeks.

His broad shoulders only emphasized his slender waist and there was a refined definition to his abdomen, the same tuft of hair across his chest. Your eyes looked over each healed scar that decorated him, as well as the sporadic placement of freckles from where the sun had kissed his pale skin.

That thought, the sight of him emboldened you and your touch was gentle, just a finger to trace the jagged line above his pectoral and you followed it with a kiss. He hummed his pleasure from the tickle of your lips and reached to catch under your chin, bringing your eyes to meet with his own and you see how his pupils swallowed the brilliant blue. 

“May I?” He asked and his large palms moved to rest on your hip, on the knot for your dress. He watched you, always adamant for your consent, and you smiled at him. Your hands rest on his own and you helped him untie, allowing the silk to spill onto the floor. 

It was his turn to admire you; his eyes looked over your curves, adoring how the silk chemise beneath clung to them, and widened at the sight of your nipples peaking beneath the soft fabric. 

His tongue wet his lips, your name a fervent prayer whispered and he pulled you into his arms, flushed against his bare chest and his lips tasting the curve of your neck. You made a noise that was a mixture of a giggle and a hum when his tongue trailed your collarbone, his hot mouth latched to the softness of your chest and left love bites. 

“Please, my lady,” you can feel his breath, how his lips curl with his words against your flesh. “Allow me to show you what I have been practicing.” 

Your eyebrow arched and he reached for your hem, pulling the silk over your head. You giggled again as your curls spilled onto your shoulders and you felt his large palms clasped onto your waist; there was a quick lurch when he pushed you to fall back against your bed. 

He grinned with your almost lyrical laughter, you were bright and flushed and he moved to climb on top of you, kissing every inch of you with a renewed hunger; a soft moan escaped you and his mouth moved lower, stopping only to nip at your hip bone before trailing towards your center. 

Osferth nuzzled between your thighs and you felt the blossom of blood when his tongue dragged along your wet slip, then pressed between the top folds and began to flit back and forth against your pearl. You mewled his name, gripping the bedclothes and pushing to your elbows to look down at him; your eyes fogged with pleasure and he pulled back, the dribble of spit that fell from his lips onto your cunt.  

He looked at you with a grin that dimpled his cheeks. “I find this better prepares the ladies…” but he trailed off, his focused return to move until his slender fingers touched the wetness with deliberate circles. 

Your question to the plural use of ladies died on your tongue, your head fell back against the bed with a moan to the gentle prod of his finger as if he was searching; a louder moan spilled from your mouth and you moved to muffle the sound, but his other hand caught your wrist. 

He shook his head. “It is just us,” the grin was still on his lips. “Let me know how this feels for you.” 

You were almost wanton from the pleasure that continued to build in your lower abdomen, more vocal with the second finger that curled sinfully within you. He paced himself, the momentum brought you to the precipice of your peak and then his mouth returned, suckling above your entrance. The simultaneous act had you seeing stars.

“Osferth,” you exhaled and he moved to climb on top of you, his mouth finding yours and you moaned from the taste of your release on his lips.  

You grabbed his shoulder and pushed him onto his back, your hands moved to the laces and helping him remove his breeches; he was bare and you straddled him, the slickness from your cunt trailed his cock and your palms were flat on him tensed abdomen, holding yourself as he shifted to line up with your silken folds. 

Though the stretch was not as severe as the other times, there was still the unmistakable fullness as he slowly sheathed himself into your cunt. You felt the warmth of his palms on your thighs, how they grabbed into their softness and his eyes were watchful for your response, allowing you to adjust.

You realized your fingers dug into the solid plans of his abdomen and you exhaled before you slowly began to rock your hips into him.

He relaxed with your movement, a guttural groan from the back of his throat as he reached deep within your wet heat. You clenched in response, his jaw tensed and his eyes fluttered while your own soft noises came with how he hit your sweet spot.  

His hands moved to grab your hips and the rhythm quickened, the coil in your stomach tightened with each pleasurable thrust and your cunt clenched. 

You almost whined with its abrupt stop; he pushed himself up and rolled you onto your back, with kisses that tickled your bare chest as he cradled into your hips, pushing into you once more. Your back arched, your fingernails bit into his shoulder and you sighed when his hands came to rest on your hips, rutting into you and the rhythm returned to press upon your sweet spot. 

His pace began to build towards your second release and your cunt fluttered around him; he groaned, his hand shifted and his thumb pressed against your bud with a familiarity, matching with the brutal pace of his hips. His touch was the push over, the rolling pleasure causing you to clench with your own release and he followed.

There was a tenderness in the moment, with the slouch of his posture and how it allowed his damp brow to touch against your own. You closed your eyes and enjoyed how your breaths synchronized, enjoying his woodsy musk with sex. When your heartbeat settled, you opened your eyes and he pulled back, the returned curl of his lips and a sweet kiss before he allowed you to move from beneath him.  

The basin was filled and you took care to hand him a damp cloth; he was careful to wipe himself and he laid on his side, waiting for you to return. His arm reached to pull you close, to rest your head in his chest and cuddle beneath the quilts; it was the same comfort you remember, the gentle thrum of his heart to your ear. 

After a moment, he asked, “My lady, do you ever feel we may have been destined for one another?”

This was a thought you would revisit over the years, whenever you rekindled the shared intimacy of the few nights you two had spent together. Reality always brought you back, for you knew he was damn near a nomad and driven by his bastard status to create something all his own. It was a plight you could relate to, as whoring had not been your own life’s ambition, but you had been able to create from it, a life of comfort and a kinship with the girls. 

A haven all your own. 

“I believe,” you began, your voice soft and words slow to form on your tongue. “That we all each have our destiny to follow and that we are lucky enough for our paths to cross, from time to time,” and you turned your head, pressing your lips to the underside of his jaw and against his neck, savoring his scent that would linger on your sheets when he would leave you once again. “Please know that you are always welcome whenever you return.”

He did not say anything, but wrapped his arms tighter around and hummed his acknowledgement. You closed your eyes again and relaxed against him, enjoying the soft touch of his fingers as they drew circles on your backside.

arcie’s masterlist  

[apop-lol]

A whole set of Sonic fanarts. There's Silver and Knuckles and a very strange design by Sonic phph

Also my character in this universe, Teva, it looks good

The design of Sonic the Griffin is partially taken from @son1c ;)