#thank you for the tag seeds mwah mwah!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossysoap · 1 year ago

Text

obedience ; price & ghost ii/?

the captain’s cerulean gaze wasn’t the only set of eyes burning a hole into you. while the captain was fantasizing about bending you over his desk and thrusting his cock inside your wet cunt, the lieutenant’s honeyed eyes were staring at you and fantasizing about the exact same thing.

warnings/tags: smut, fem reader, fem anatomy and pronouns, perv simon, fantasizing, voyeur/exhibitionism elements, panty sniffing simon.

notes: dedicated to @sunnynomoar !! the next part will have more of the poly aspect but i figured i’d give you this for right now. thank you for all of your support throughout everything and all of your amazing work for rtc!!!! i love you mwah! intentionally lower case. READ PART 1 BEFORE READING THIS. ghosts pov takes place directly before the price office scene in part 1. part 3 and 4 coming soon!

word count: 3k+

Ghost, whose eyes instinctively gravitated towards you once you were assigned to the Task Force. How you followed every order to the highest quality, always eager to impress him. How your pretty eyes followed him as he spoke, paying close attention to every word he said, every syllable that fell from his lips.

Treating every word he spoke like it was gospel. And oh, how he yearned to see you on your knees. Worshipping him.

Ghost, whose eyes bored into you from the very moment you walked into any room. You could feel his gaze burning into you, his honeyed brown eyes framed by the darkness of eye black and the shadow of his mask. It would make your heart race every time.

Ghost, whose eyes would be looking at your hair tied up and out of your face, and imagining his hand buried in the (curls/braids/strands) while he rutted into you. Imagining himself gripping your hair in his calloused hand and twisting so it was wrapped around his hand, in a perfect handle. Imagining himself pulling your hair until your head was tilted back, his chest pressed flush against your back while his hips slapped against your ass with each thrust.

Ghost, who would see you craning your exposed neck as you filled out documents. Ghost, whose eyes would trail along the span of your exposed neck and immediately imagine it littered with bruises of different shapes. He would imagine himself biting and sucking into the flesh of your neck, starting with your jaw and down to your collarbone, sucking particularly hard on your pulse point. He imagines himself leaving indentations in your skin, marks serving as evidence from his teeth digging into your flesh.

Ghost, who would feel himself getting hard as he imagined biting the crook of your neck while emptying his seed inside your warm cunt. Who would imagine himself cursing into your skin, groaning out your name as he bucked into you.

Ghost, whose eyes would skim along your body and drink in every plane and curve that made up your frame. Ghost, who would see you obediently clasp your hands behind your back, and imagine himself using your hands as a handle when plowing into your tight cunt.

Ghost, who would see your shirt ride up reaching for something on a high shelf, exposing a sliver of your plush stomach. His hands aching to slide underneath your shirt and feel the soft skin of your stomach, before trailing up to cup your tits. The same tits he would fantasize about whenever you would lean down in front of him, giving him a brief view down your shirt. He would catch a glimpse of your cleavage, the tempting dip between your breasts that he just itched to lick between.

Ghost, who would see that and instantly imagine jerking off onto your bare tits. Slapping the red head of his cock onto your pert nipples. Thrusting his cock between your tits while you held them together, ensuring the hold on his cock was tight. He could just imagine you looking up at him with those cute eyes as he fucked your breasts. You sticking your tongue out to lick at the head of his cock whenever he would thrust his hips forward. Finally, he would imagine stroking his hard length a few times until he pushed himself over the edge, hips stuttering as he stroked himself through, shooting rope after rope of his cum onto your tits. Maybe some even landing on your tongue.

Ghost, whose eyes were committing every detail of your face whenever he looked at you. How your cute eyes sparkled as you gazed up at him, looking at your lieutenant as if he hung the moon. Lashes fluttering as you blinked up at him. Your lips pouting as you focused on something. Research, debriefing, or especially when he was leading a training session. You would bite your bottom lip whenever you were particularly focused — he hungered to just smash his lips against yours and bite that sensitive flesh himself.

All he could imagine when you stared up at him with those fucking eyes, biting your lip, was you on your knees. Sitting pretty and obediently, because you were always so fucking obedient, staring up at him with glossed over eyes and pupils blown wide with lust. He could practically see you kneeling between his outstretched thighs, your arms resting on his clothed thighs as your shaky hands worked at his zipper. He could imagine your pulse thrumming next to your collarbone, heart racing with need and anticipation. He could imagine you biting your plump bottom lip between your teeth as you pull his boxers down and letting his hard cock spring against his stomach.

Fuck, he could just imagine your breath hitching at the sight of his cock, just like how your breath hitches when he adjusts your form in the gym, his body pressed against yours.

When you’re working out in the gym is when his self control is tested the most. And of course, he always had the worst luck of running into you at the gym.

Which is exactly what happened today.

Ghost, whose eyes would be glued onto you for the entire workout session. Even as he lifted dumbbells, his eyes would be trained on you through the reflection on the mirror in front of him. As he was doing sit-ups, his eyes would find your form every time he sat up. As he was running on the treadmill, he would look at you. No matter what he was doing, or what you were doing, your Lieutenants’ eyes would be drinking you in.

Ghost was forced to watch you start out by stretching — seeing your muscles shift under your compression tank top as you stretched one arm across your torso, pulling it tight with your other arm. He could see the hem of your sports bra through your tank top, and he could see the thin straps sitting on your shoulders.

Ghost’s breath hitched when you bent over to pick up a weight from the rack, your ass up while you reached down for the weight. He could see the thin fabric of your panties peek out from your black leggings, and as his eyes traced the lace trim of your white lingerie, all he could think about was yanking your leggings down past your knees. Pulling you against him, so his hips were pressed against your ass, his hard cock rubbing against your cunt. He would want to rip the flimsy lace right off you, letting it fall down to your ankles. He would want to palm at your ass, squeezing the ample flesh and gripping you as he eased his cock in.

Ghost would find himself imagining you bent over the exact same way while you took his cock, skin slapping against skin as he thrusted in and out. Hips rutting into you at a furious pace, moaning at the squeeze of your tight cunt around his cock. Bottoming out with every thrust, hitting your g-spot and making you cry out.

Ghost, who would hear your grunts and breathy sounds as you lifted weights, and his mind would spiral. His mind would fill with sinful scenarios, fueled by the suggestive noises you would make. He would imagine how you’d whine as he rolled his hips, finding a new, deeper angle to thrust into your wet pussy that gripped him so well. “Oh my god,” he could just imagine you whimpering as he hits that spongey spot just right, “Ghost, right there!” He would chuckle under his mask, a rumble deep from his chest as he hears you beg for more. “Yeah? You need your Lieutenant to make you feel good?” He would imagine himself teasing you, emphasizing his rank as he set a cruel pace thrusting right against that spot. “Fuck!” He would imagine you whining, “yesyesyes. please.”

Ghost, who would see you walk over to the treadmill after finishing your lifts and his eyes would be trained on you with every step. Every sway of your hips made his cock throb harder in his joggers. He clenched his jaw, trying to stay focused on the dumbbells he was lifting as you started running on the treadmill.

“God-fucking-damn it,” He would curse under his breath as he watched your breasts bounce. With each stride you made on the treadmill, your tits would bounce. Your hips would sway.

All he wanted to do was drop the weights on the floor and march over to you. He wanted to order you to get off treadmill, no doubt making you let out a surprised noise, and bend you over the fitness bench.

He wanted to pull your leggings down until they were pooled around your knees, exposing your ass and thighs to him. He wanted to squeeze the plush flesh of your ass, feeling your soft skin against his rough, scarred and calloused hands. He wanted to give your ass a spank, watching it recoil as his palm came down on your skin, and hearing you gasp.

He wanted to feel you squirm as you were bent over, feeling vulnerable and exposed and needy for his touch. He wanted to pull his mask up to his nose, kneel in front of your exposed ass and lick stripes across the soft skin. He wanted to dig his teeth into the plump flesh of your ass, leaving bite marks in the soft skin and marking it as his. He wanted to pull your white panties to the side to reveal your cunt, all soaked and swollen for him, desperate for his attention. He wanted to trace your lips with his finger, teasing you so cruelly by not dipping his fingers in just yet. He wanted to gather your wetness on his fingers and bring it to his lips, savoring the taste of your juices as you squirmed and whined for him to touch you more. He wanted to finally ease two thick fingers inside your tight cunt, feeling it squeeze around him. He wanted to hear you moan his name as he pumped those fingers in and out, in and out. He didn’t want to hear you moan “Ghost”. Not “Lieutenant”. He wanted to hear you moan his name. Simon.

He wanted to hear those wet sounds build as he moved his fingers in and out, using his thumb to rub at the sensitive bundle of nerves in your clit. He wanted to curl his fingers in search of that special spot, that spongey spot that made your hips buck. He wanted to hear every single moan and gasp and whimper that would fall from your lips as he worked you closer to orgasm. He wanted to push you to the edge and feel you coming apart on his hand, thrusting his fingers in at a mean pace until he heard you cry out in pleasure. He wanted to feel you clenching around his fingers as you came.

He would be yanked out of his fantasy when he heard you calling his rank.

“Lieutenant?” His eyes would dart to you, his heart still hammering in his chest from all the thoughts running in his head.

You had already finished your workout, now you were standing a few feet in front of him with your water bottle in your hand. Your duffel bag with a change of clothes was slung over your shoulder. Your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat as you panted.

“What is it?” He would force out, trying to avoid your gaze as he recalled all of the images he conjured up in his brain. All of the positions he had conjured up.

“I was just saying that I’m done with my sets, the gym is yours.” You would grin politely at the Lieutenant, none the wiser to how much you were occupying his thoughts. Or how much you had caused a tent to form in his joggers.

Before he knew it, you were heading off to the showers that were attached to the gym. He heard you open a locker, presumably setting your clean clothes in it for after your shower.

The second that he heard the shower faucet turn on, it was as if his body moved on autopilot. He set the weights down on the floor, not bothering to re-rack them. His eyes were glued to the shower room entrance as his legs moved on their own accord.

He closed the distance between the gym and the shower entrance in five seconds flat, his combat boots hitting hard against the gym floor.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of your locker. Your new set of clean clothes were placed in the locker — a new sports bra, a tank top, panties and leggings. The showers were a good twenty feet away from the lockers, and the water was still running loudly — so you wouldn’t be able to hear anything he did.

He didn’t even know what he was looking for when he came into the locker room. He just felt this warm, animal need. For you.

Suddenly something caught his eye. A pile of dirty clothes sitting on the bench next to your locker. It was the sports bra, tank top and your leggings. Laying there on top of those clothes was also your white lace panties.

Bingo.

He reached down and plucked the pair of panties from the pile of your dirty clothes, still listening for your shower in case you turned it off.

As he held the fragile fabric in his hand, the same fabric that was on your body only a minute prior, touching your soft skin, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help raising your panties to his nose and breathing in. Breathing in your musk, your sweat.

Ghost, who was now in his locked quarters, grasping tightly at those same panties. Ghost, who was laying on his bed with his joggers pulled down just enough to fit his hand down the waistband. Ghost, who wasted no time in freeing his cock from his boxers and letting it spring against his stomach.

Ghost, who moaned your name as he jerked off.

Ghost, who thought of you while he stroked his hard cock. He thought of your pouty lips and how they would look wrapped around his cock. He thought of your pretty eyes looking up at him through your lashes, tears welling up and rolling down your cheeks as you choke on his cock.

“Bloody hell, fuck.” He moaned.

Ghost, who thought of you riding him as he kept stroking his cock. He imagined you straddling him, his hands holding onto your hips and guiding your pace as you grind on his cock. He imagined your breasts bouncing with each grind onto his cock, your nipples swollen and begging to be teased. He imagined himself reaching up and cupping your bare breasts, tweaking your nipple with his thumb. He imagined you throwing your head back in pleasure as you moaned out his name, “Simon!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” He cursed, chest heaving as he panted.

Ghost, who almost came at the thought of you cumming on his cock. The thought of your warm cunt squeezing on his cock as you screamed his name was enough to push him right to the edge. But before he could come to his own release, he brought your panties up to his face again and sniffed the fabric.

Ghost, who smelled your scent on the panties and imagined you sitting on his face. He imagined you hovering nervously over his face, tempting him with your sweet cunt — before he finally wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down to sit on his face. He imagined your sharp cry as he dove in, tongue flattening to lick a stripe along your cunt before dipping his tongue inside. He imagined groaning into your pussy, sending vibrations through your core and making you moan even more. He imagined licking every last drop of your juices as if he was in the desert and you were an oasis — drinking you up. He would be sloppy and messy and loud. He would growl into your pussy and hold your hips impossibly close, leaving you unable to squirm or twitch as his strong arms kept you in place. He would pay attention to every little moan, whimper or gasp. Every little jerk or buck of your hips that might indicate that you were close. Then he would moan into your pussy, encouraging you to cum on his face, to squirt on his tongue.

“Go on, cum for me. I know, I know.” Would be groaned, almost mockingly so, into your cunt, as his nose rubbed against your swollen clit. Then he would wrap his lips around that bundle of nerves and suck gently, pulling cries and moans from your lips as you would cum on his tongue.

As he sniffed your panties and imagined that scenario, Ghost felt that knot in his stomach build and build — until it unraveled. And his hips stuttered and jerked and twitched, his cock spurting rope after rope of white cum onto his chest.

Ghost, who couldn’t shake any of the images of you from his mind. No matter what he did. Whenever he looked at you, he saw the pictures he conjured in his mind. You bent over taking his cock. You on your knees sucking him off. You sitting on his face. You riding him in his quarters.

You. You. You.

He felt like he saw you everywhere. Anywhere he could possibly run into you at, he would end up running into you there.

The gym. The conference room. The training facility. The mess hall. The medbay. Price’s office.

Which is why Ghost supposes he shouldn’t be surprised at seeing you in Price’s office that day. That’s not what surprised him. It was your.. condition in the Captains office that surprised him.

He was just about to knock on Price’s door when he saw that it was open just a crack. Then he heard something that made his brows furrow under his mask and made his heart skip a beat.

“That alright, love? Feel good?” He heard Price ask. Ghost pressed himself against the wall next to Price’s door, making sure he wasn’t seen through the crack. He was taken back at the prospect of Price entertaining a fling in his own office. The Lieutenant was about to walk away when he heard something else that snagged at his attention. Your voice.

“Uh-huh,” Ghost heard you pant. Ghost’s breath hitched as he thought of you writhing under Price’s skilled hands. He should leave. He knew that. This was a private moment between the two of you. And Price was the Captain for god’s sake.

“I bet.” He hears Price mutter before he hears the sound of fabric being pulled. Then he hears you gasp out, “Oh my god.”

“Shhh, sweet girl. Just let your Captain take care of you.” He hears Price whisper to you.

Ghost couldn’t help himself. He pushed himself off the wall and quietly stepped up to the door. Just enough so he could see through the small sliver of space that peeked into the office.

His eyes widened at the sight, and he found himself almost gasping.

You were bent over the side of Price’s wooden desk with the man himself pressed up against you. Your head was laid on your folded arms, facing away from the door. Your leggings had been pulled down and were pooled around your knees, along with your panties. Your thick thighs and plush ass were fully exposed.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ sight. You know that?” He hears Price praise you, praising your ass and your cunt. Even though Ghost couldn’t fully see it, he already wholeheartedly agreed with the Captain.

“T- thank you, sir.” Ghost heard you whimper, feeling his cock stir in his pants as you thanked Price. Like the polite, obedient soldier you were.

“Thought about this so damn much, doll. Thought about you so damn much.” He heard Price say, as he watched Price spread your ass apart. “This pretty pussy,” Ghost heard you gasp. “So fuckin’ wet. Dripping.” Price ground out, voice all gruff.

Ghost could just imagine the shiny, slick juices coating your cunt and dripping down your thighs. It’s all Ghost wants, all Ghost needs, to just dart inside and lick up all of the mess you were making on your thighs.

“You just need your Captain’s touch, huh? Need his fingers. His cock.” He heard Price all but growl, seeing the Captain press himself into you further.

You could only whine in response, squirming against the wooden desk.

“Lemme just..,” Price finally dips two fingers into your wet cunt, sliding in with ease because of how wet you were, “There ya go. Good girl.”

Ghost was practically drooling at the sight of Price pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy. He could hear the squelch of your juices with every thrust of Price’s fingers, mixed with the sweet moans you let out.

It was music to his fucking ears.

“Oh my god, Captain,” You moaned, all whiny and desperate. Your legs twitched as Price continued his ministrations on your cunt, his thick fingers working to stretch you out.

“I know, I know.” Price crooned in an almost sickly sweet tone, watching you squirm and twitch from the stimulation.

“Please, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for. More? Stop? You just needed to babble, your mind so clouded in lust and pleasure.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweet girl. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.” Price purrs, easing a third finger in. Wearing a smirk on his face as he watches your cunt stretch to accommodate the extra digit.

Ghost saw your hips jolt and buck against the wood, overwhelmed at the new intrusion. “Fuck,” He heard you mewl as Price filled you up with that third finger.

“Yeah? How’s that feel?” Ghost watched Price ask you, knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to answer.

Not very coherently, anyway.

“So, f-fuck. Good.” You mumble, eyes scrunched shut as your Captain plunges his fingers in your cunt over and over. His fingers were so thick, so rough. It felt like using a small toy because of how big his fingers were.

Ghost saw Price smile, watching his shoulders shake as the Captain laughed.

“Mmm, good. Doin’ so well for me. Always so good for me.” Price murmurs, staring down at you with his piercing blue eyes.

“Always so well behaved. Obedient. You deserve to feel good, don’t you?”

You whined at that, still just squirming on the desk.

“Yeah.. you deserve to feel so fuckin’ good. You deserve to relax.” Price ground out. “So I’m gonna make you feel good, hmm? How’s that sound?” Price asked, still not expecting an answer from you as you were too mindless and cloudy with pleasure.

All you could do was nod over and over, full of desperation and anticipation.

Ghost watched as Price quickened his speed, thrusting his fingers in your soaking cunt at a furious pace. Price leaned down, till his clothed chest was pressed against your back.

“I’m gonna make you feel good. Me. Not Kyle. Not Johnny.” Price crooned, his breath hot in your ear.

Then Price did the unthinkable. His blue eyes darted to Ghost. He looked right at Ghost, through that little sliver of open space. Ghost gasped.

“And not Simon. Just me.” Ghost watched with wide eyes, feeling frozen in place as Price smirked. The bastard smirked while staring right at him.

Then Price curled his fingers at the perfect angle, making you cry out against the desk.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Price cooed in your ear as he pumps his fingers right against that spongey spot, all while staring right at Ghost.

“Price! Fuck, I’m gonna—,” You screech as he simultaneously uses his thumb to rub your swollen clit.

“Yeah, you can do it. Come on, cum for me. Yeah, yeah, there you go.” Price laughs as you squeeze around his fingers, soaking his hand and dripping down your thighs.

And Price did it all while smirking. Right at Ghost.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission. you can use this work as a scriptfill for gonewildaudios as long as you credit me and link me.

🏷️: @warenai @viylikescats @cassiecasluciluce @divine--serenity @sunnynomoar @lilpothoscuttings @jumbojazzcats93 @krakenbabe @lordlydragon @violet-phantoms (let me know if i forgot to tag you or if you want to be added to my smut tag list)

1K notes · View notes

yyokkki · 4 months ago

Text

Leona Kingscholar

A lion beastman who’s usually laying around somewhere in the forest or in his house, sleeping.

As it turns out he only really walks around town starting from 7PM up to ungodly hours (cue a lot of passing out right in front of him cuz you couldn’t find him right up to 2).

Plays rugby with Ruggie and Epel every sunny Sunday.

He was actually born into an affluent family as the second son. He’d spent his whole life training to take over the company despite everyone from his parents to the housekeepers looking down on him and constantly comparing him to his older brother.

In the end his brother took over the company and after his nephew, Cheka, was born he left the city and moved to the quiet town of Night Raven. (Well, it was quiet before all the crazy residents started moving in…)

Loved Gifts: Meat/Meat Dishes (Except Bug Meat), Universal Loves

“Heh, not bad Herbivore.”

Hated Gifts: All Vegetables, Universal Hates

“Oi, do I look like a garbage can?”

Ruggie Bucchi

A hyena beastman who grew up in the slums of the city with his grandma and the kids he took care of.

When they hadn’t moved yet Leona would often hire him to run the occasional errand but before he moved he asked him to follow him and be his full time attendant for a ludicrous salary.

Immediately accepted and regularly sends money back to his grandma.

He takes part time jobs at Sam’s General Store and the town saloon as well.

Sometimes steals random veggies from your garden, the scarecrows aren’t just for the crow.

Is often found in the forests foraging or tending to a little vegetable garden that only he eats the harvest from.

Doesn’t blink an eye if he sees you rummaging through the garbage. If anything, he joins you.

Loved Gifts: Dandelions, Donuts, Gold, All Foragables, Universal Loves

“Really?! Shishishi, well don’t mind if I do! Here, have this~”

Hated Gifts: Sap, Anything Rotten, Universal Hates

“...Do I look that desperate?”

Jack Howl

The local botanist! His shop is a greenhouse and he specialises in ornamental plants like cactus, succulents and flowers! Most of the flower seeds are sold from him as well as fertilisers and pots.

Genuinely loves his job but prefers being more physically active.

Goes on runs with Deuce every sunny Wednesday but runs at 6AM every other day.

A wolf beastman who lives with his parents and his two younger siblings.

Is often found tending to his shop or working out outside.

Loved Gifts: Cactus Fruit, Pear Compote, Universal Loves

“...! Thanks farmer. Wh- My tail is NOT wagging!”

Hated Gifts: Spring Onion, Horseradish, Leek, Universal Hates

“!!! Ugh, excuse me…”

---

TWST x SDV Masterlist

Tag List (Interact with the linked post to be tagged in future updates mwah)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #night raven valley #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #twst au #twisted wonderland au #twst stardew au

263 notes · View notes

bucknastysbabe · 2 months ago

Note

i'm like two years late but i finally binged the 1st and 2nd season this week! currently obsessing over the concept of cole w/ rhaenyra's valyrian-looking (but bastard nonetheless) daughter, returning after 5 years on dragonstone. thoughts?? anyway glad i found your blog it's actually making me more insane <33

Yessss I like this and decided to make an angsty lil songfic!!! Thank you for waiting! I’m so glad you love my stuff it’s so rewarding!!!! COLEWIVES RIDE AT DAWN TO PONDER LIFE ON A LOG AND BE HORNY

I hope you enjoy mwah mwah❤️

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Song fic, Velarystrong Princess, TW: very twisted thinking, homicidal ideation, hate sex, sadism/masochism themes, bastardphobia and dornish racism match made in heaven, obvious poison tree allegory and trying to work through both sides own mistakes screech, ye olde seroquel hours, Criston gets his head fucked with, angst, dark, rough sex, quickie, pnv!sex

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemondfairy @elaratyrell @fairysluna @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose

You were ten years of age leaving the Red Keep. There was naught much but scorn and pain surrounding the place. As Rhaenyra’s first, you were a baby girl born with dark hair and dark eyes. Save the silvery streak in the thick curls— still, that wasn’t much to help.

You could cry and yell until you were blue in the face claiming your dark eyes shone like indigo in the right light. Aegon would laugh and laugh. Queen Alicent had remarked in passing that your features were too ‘strong’ to overlook. She didn’t mean the Valyrian traits.

Your family left for Dragonstone, anger in your heart, wishing them to choke on their words. The whole lot of the green-clad faction. The morning upon leaving was seared into your heart, tucked away to stew upon. You were straggling behind, trying to decide whether to desecrate something in the room or not.

A knock upon the door made your head whip up. You opened the heavy oak up, staring at one Ser Criston Cole. Your mother always instructed you to stay away from Alicent’s loyal kingsguard. His dark eyes scanned over you and the room. His head tilted toward the right as he gruffed, “It’s time to leave, Princess.”

He spat the last word out like bile. It made your skin prickle uncomfortably while grabbing your soft-knitted dragon dolly— black as night. You walked beside the knight, knowing he’d never much liked your mother or any of you, your ‘father’ Laenor, and Ser Harwin. You missed Ser Harwin as he was good and kind.

Ser Criston looked down at you, his lips twitching.

“Do you suppose you’ll enjoy your new home? A fine one for the future Princess of Dragonstone.”

You eyed the bigger man back, anger growing in your chest. Instead, you replied quietly, not wishing to incite his notorious rage, “I do not wish for it. My mother has enough issues. My brother Prince Jacaerys shall receive the inheritance.”

It’s people like him who made you decide that at such a young age. The anger, the scorn, the stares all the time from court and ‘family’.

Ser Criston let out a bitter little laugh, “Hah- you might be smarter than the whole lot. You’re sharp and strong.”

That was the end of talking with Ser Criston. The seed had been planted along the many others. Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Otto, the list went on and grew.

You were back in King’s Landing once more. Now a woman grown of eight and ten. Everything felt different and the old burning in your chest began to rise once more. You hoped the deep anger would shield you from this cutting place— something to keep the pain from sinking in. You were here for another claim of bastardy, this time from the Sea Snake’s brother.

You weren’t a child anymore. Under your veil of anger and haughty face, there remained a well-developed princess. Lovely sweet fruit and honey, hiding the blackened insides. The stares of the staff and onlookers in the yard shifted to the now older children of Rhaenyra.

Jace and Luke watched the much taller form of Aemond sparring with the white knight. You had learned the truth about him after bothering your mother enough. He was still handsome, spry, and dangerous despite his age. Aemond made Criston yield, turning to face your brothers.

“Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked.

You stood behind them, frowning, sharing none of the shock and awe they displayed. Aemond likely suffered from the same as you— swallowed whole with righteous anger. Ser Criston peered at the boys, then you.

All three of you passed, the knight sipping from his wineskin. He was leering, thick brows down as dark orbs roved your face, down to your tits and hips. You spat, “Mind yourself, Ser.”

He almost choked on his water, Aemond’s brow raising and Jace grabbing your arm to speed along.

How dare he look at you like some slab of meat when he hated everything you were. Who you were born from. Jace murmured, “Come now, don’t let him rile you up, you know how it’s going to be here.” Luke was frowning, the princeling worried.

As the day passed, you felt your mind head in different directions. Your mother had even checked on you, asking why you were so distant. You shrugged, claiming to be unsettled by the events of earlier. Daemon sliced the man’s head in half in front of everyone.

As they dressed you in a room, you pondered Cole. How it would feel to slap him, make him admit he wanted another princess. He desired a bastard, a bastard born of the woman he lived to hate. You wanted him. The hate in your heart needed suffering for him— even if it reflected on your hypocrisy.

The conflicted feelings turned swiftly into conviction through the wretched dinner you sat through. Putrid comments from your uncles. Fighting and laughing, crying and dying, the premonition that this would be the only time all of the ‘family’ would sit in a room.

It was sad in a way. The fact that everything had been cleaved in half before anything good could come forth. Not that you could do anything. You’d reap what they had sown, the sins of the forefathers. You could wallow in feelings that always turned back to the same damn thoughts.

Let them all burn in agony. Feel the pain you’d dealt with for years, a firstborn bastard with a cunt. It was such easy pickings when your mother remained heir. As she was entitled to be. Sometimes it seemed easier if she just let Aegon’s idiotic self become king or hire some faceless man to kill them in their sleep.

There you were. The anger and fantasies took the pain of real life away. Blooming in a million separate ways, oh, but what if? Your lips curled up walking down the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, fingers trailing across the walls after being dismissed from dinner. You narrowed your eyes at the familiar form placed outside your door.

You stopped near Ser Criston, leaning against the frame of the door. He nodded, “Princess.” Criston had spat it at you like an insult again, likely ruffled from your behavior earlier. Why was he here of all places?

“Shouldn’t a warrior like you be outside of Luke’s door so Aemond doesn’t go carve his eye out?”

His eyes narrowed, yet Criston’s lips spread into a thin smile. The marcher replied, “No. It’s for protection. A pretty unmarried princess like you? Most men here would open their door. So in you go.” He opened the door, jerking his head with a grimace. You caught the implication swiftly, bristling.

“Oh? Because I’m on the wrong side of the blanket you think me to go out and fuck the men of the castle? My wretched uncles, who don’t give less of a shit about me?”

You shook with anger, trying to shove the pure hate back into the little pocket in your breast. Ser Criston gripped your arm, escorting you in with a growl, kicking the door shut behind him. He tossed off his helmet, hackles raised as his eyes studied you, his other hand coming up to hold the other arm as you tried to squirm away.

Criston’s voice was more shaky than you expected as he spoke. It was a bladed jab, “I’d almost say she birthed you on her own if it weren’t for that hair, you’re just as spoiled and miserable as your mother was at this age. You’re reckless, not to be trusted.”

Your lips pursed as he held you in place. The anger wanted to burst back out, fire and blood indeed. No, no, you needed to nurse it for when the time was right. Even if the little metaphorical pocket you’d sewn the seeds of resentments into had grown into a cavern. A void of straggling branches and vines only filled for a moment.

If the knight in front of you knew how fucked up you were, he would likely seal you off in the black cells. Father above, your mother would too. You’d be mad and alone— but the fantasies and resentments would keep you company.

Eyes gliding up to Cole you finally replied, “I suppose I am reckless. This place makes me mad. How you tolerate it is beyond me.” You’d rather not speak on your mother at the moment, but you sighed, “My mother has done good by me. She’s loved us all. Yet she doomed us with our nature, especially with my little silver brothers.”

Criston seemed to like your response, hands easing off you. He hummed, “You are sharp. Of tongue and mind. That’s never changed. Alas, you’d never know peace until you’re well married off and away.”

You crossed your arms, putting some paces between you two. There was a manic laugh bubbling from your chest, a harsh noise, “I’ll never know peace wherever I go. None of us will, alas certainly not you either. Not with what weighs on your soul.”

The Kingsguard’s long legs closed the space, hand darting out to grip the side of your head as he growled, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing of. Ill-begotten wretch.”

You grinned.

Criston didn’t have the luxury of nursing his anger. It appeared the more he tried to hold it in, the more it seeped out. His entire body was on the attack as he glared at you, eyes wide, teeth close to baring, thick brow twisted up. He didn’t sew a pocket and you wondered if it was worse or better for the soul.

You leaned up into his angered visage, lips close to his, your lips split into a mocking smile. Something was invigorating about this— watching his nostrils flare as the brunette sharply exhaled. He hadn’t released your head, breath choppy.

“You’re confusing me,” Criston gritted out.

“I want you of course.”

Spoken as if it was the most simple thing. Gods this felt fucking good.

He smashed his lips to yours, nose bumping together as he turned his head, lowering to your height. Your nails dug into his neck, inexperienced lips molding to his pace. It was rough, brutal really. Criston’s tongue ungracefully slipped into your mouth when his hand slapped your ass, prompting you to yelp.

You smacked him back on his cheek, pulling away. Criston growled, “You’re definitely on the wrong side of the coin and blanket, get over here.”

You surged back to smash your lips against his, gripping at a handful of dark hair, groaning as teeth and lips meshed. He turned you toward the bed, bigger frame crowding yours, shuffling steps until the backs of your knees hit the bed. You hissed as he pushed you back, your body bouncing once.

Criston immediately pinned you down, his cold plate digging into your soft skin. He breathed, “Sick goddamn spawn. I see the thorns underneath.” One of his knees propped against the bed, teeth subtly dragging down your throat. A hand kneaded and groped your breast, drawing a low moan from your throat— the edge of pain sent more throbbing below.

You wanted him to hurt. Moreso you to hurt and throb with pain, entering that state of bliss within. All of Criston’s physical soft spots were practically hidden, you reaching down to undo his sword belt clumsily. The knight smirked.

“You want my cock? Fitting for a natural born off a whore.”

You spat back, “Says the man who fucked the whore and now wants her filthy bastard. Is it my cunning, sly nature? My natural wanton lust that weakens you so?”

He gritted his jaw, hand slapping down next to your head with a curse. Criston swallowed heavily, both of his hands rucking up your dress, ripping anything in the way. He’d rip you too. A nice surprise you supposed, perhaps not for him.

You taunted with a grin. “You’re weak you know? Must be the Dornish blood. Ser Criston, you just need the feeling of a noble cunt to keep you going, hm?”

He was feverishly undoing his breeches and padded tunic. Shoulders shaking with anger, disappointment, something else. Criston cursed as his fingers slipped again, huffing, “Fuck you.”

You waited with a smug look, looking forward to this new, powerful experience.

His dusky cock was flush and hard, bigger than what you imagined. You weren’t sure what the imagination even was— your fantasies were feelings, not pictures. He felt at your bare cunt, thick calloused fingers unceremoniously delving into the slick heat.

You grunted, the pain giving way to more. So much more.

Criston pulled his fingers back, brows raising in alarm as the maiden’s blood covered his fingers. You watched him and quickly jerked his hand over, eyes flicked upwards. The man shook harder, gasping, “Gods fucking dammit— damn you, damn you!”

You suckled your essence and blood off his fingers, biting at the tips, just enough to leave the fingers throbbing. The anguish upon his shining eyes and his furrowed brow was gorgeous. More arousal filled your belly, moaning softly. He rumbled out a low noise, breath heavy, the knowledge he’d fucked something up due to instinct again eating the man alive.

“You broke it, now take me,” you demanded, licking blood off your lower lip.

Criston let out a harsh noise akin to a sob as he aligned himself with your soaking pussy. There was a long pause, likely a useless prayer in his head. He inhaled against your pulsing neck. You moaned again as the thick tip of his prick entered. The earlier stinging and pulling returning, the pain sending your lashes to fluttering.

“Mm- fuck- don’t stop, hard, I want it hard,” you rasped.

Criston moaned weakly, jerking his hips forward, breath hitching against as he had filled you to the hilt. Guilt and shame roiled off his frame. Meanwhile, you could breathe it in, feeling like a god. The power you held over this sick, pitiful man who happened to be a warrior. Your walls shifted and burned, something to relish.

“Come on now, take me Ser,” you cooed, a hand skating down his neck to squeeze. He thrust again, the pair of you gutturally groaning. You spread your legs wider, planting them on the bed, shuddering at the fullness and dull throb.

He began to shake the bed with the force of his fucking, grunting, and huffing into your neck. Criston would hold up sometimes to mutter pitifully, shivering from head to toe. His handsome face screwed up, thick brows knit as he groaned.

You panted, “Feels so good, fuck.”

The friction was nice, but his broken mumbling made you grow dizzy with arousal. Guilt lurked beneath, you shoving it away with a grip at his hair or bite to his jaw.

You were crying out in ecstasy now as he had both knees on the bed, holding your hips up as his throbbing cock pushed and pushed into your soft core, the heat growing overwhelming. Sweat shone on your brow and breast, Criston faring no better. You felt like a ragdoll, the white knight doing all the work, yet you pulled the strings.

You smiled in delirium, imagining him guiltily stripping his cock for days after this. Unable to look you in the eye ever again. Gods, gods, you needed this more. Criston moaned your name, his shaking hand peeling off your hip to swirl at the sensitive little nub at the apex of your thighs.

You cried out again, arousal surging into your veins, squirming and milking his cock. Criston’s hips stuttered as he whined something about forgiveness. Your chest felt full and fuzzy, content, idly wondering if he was always so emotional.

Soon, the stuffed feeling of your cunt, the nerves singing from his insistent rubbing of thumb had you on the edge, mewling in bliss. You whined, “Yes, so good Ser Criston, ’m gonna come, my white knight.”

He broke down again, falling forward and sobbing into your neck, the sound of his pain like a bolt of ecstasy. You clenched up around him, head thrown back as you moaned and huffed, lips curled up as the burn spread across your frame— cunt weeping and pulsing around him.

“Fuck yes! Yes!”

It wasn’t much long after you writhed and clawed at his throat, Criston pulled out, sniffling and sulky as he came with little whines, face dark with embarrassment and self-hatred. His cock spit onto your thigh and the bedding as he heaved. He sat on the bed, big mournful eyes on you, the evidence of his lust.

You easily rolled away, panting. With a stretch and final savor of the ache, you padded to the washroom to ring the bell for servants to draw a bath. Leaning against the frame, you watched the broken man, lost in his thoughts, silent tears down his flushed cheeks. You scoffed, “Fall to your needs again? Perhaps you’d be a better guard dog if they gelded you.”

You turned without a word more.

He was crying softly in the other room, once again broken down. You had nothing to say. Ser Criston deserved to remember what he was, a whore.

Cherishing your newfound feelings, your chest had begun to ache for more. You sighed, internally nursing those seeds, some had sprouted, you couldn’t let them grow much more. Only allowed for when the time came. Now was a tease, a glimpse of something much more powerful that would emerge when the realm erupted.

He left eventually, you sitting in a tub, eyes closed, humming softly as the servant brushed your bastard hair. Dripping with honey, filled with thorns and poison. Mayhaps you’d be too gone a day, but now? There was much more to life yet again.

#ser criston cole x reader #criston cole x reader #criston cole x you #criston cole imagine #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #angsty angst angst #hotd imagine

90 notes · View notes

belleandsaintsebastian · 3 months ago

Text

spotify shuffle game!!!! :))) <333

thank you for the tags my loves and my darlings @fatemy-friend @quillkiller @apple-mp3 @pretentiouswreckingball @drowsyanddazed @fxreflyes @deadpoets MWAH to you all forever xx

rules: shuffle your library/fave playlist + make a poll of the top five that come up !!!

tagging… @boyjoan @boydykepdf @labyrinthgf @maryoliverdotcom @yesnoidkiguess @famousblueraincoat1971 @fastasyoucan1999 @serethereal @steelycunt @stillagoodwitch @ernestonlysayslovelythings <3

#this is kind of funny ... none of these are the same genre like. at all #mixtape #games

21 notes · View notes

sebrrari · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! If it's okay to ask, what's the context behind the tags you have (honeycomb; dandelion) for certain drivers? They're really nice!!

hi omg this is so nice! also there's another anon in my inbox about this - if it was you sorry i took longer to answer!!! i wanted to be on my computer for this so i could type this all out! and if it wasn't you hi other anon, thanks for being so patient!!!

ok so basically - it's a hold over from being on tumblr in like 2010. [insert "back in my day" anecdote here]. the tagging system was waaaay different back then, and if you didn't want your posts (even reblogs) to show up in the main tag (that antis combed to reblog and hate on stuff, or maybe you just wanted some goddamn privacy), people made their own tags so that they could search just that.

also, it's fun.

here's what mine mean to me - i’m the kind of person that operates very much off of vibes, so some of these are more literal and some of these are just absolute bullshit that i came up with in my soup brain.

lewis hamilton: #dandelion - something that can grow even in the toughest of conditions. people often treat these like weeds, but they're some of the most nutritious (for humans and for other plants), easy to cultivate, and beautiful flowers in the northern hemisphere. in flower symbology, they're a symbol of hope, growth, and healing. their little seeds can travel for over a kilometer to bring life to more than just themselves. maybe you can see where i'm going with this.

sebastian vettel: #honeycomb - a marvel of nature. bees created something that took man thousands of years to understand. symbolically, beehives represent cooperation - and the fact that a hive of bees can create such a flawless, useful structure on their own and for their use just amazes me. obviously, seb and bees. but more than that, the way that bees are remarkably adaptable. and a wonder of the natural world. and that honeycomb structures are physically hardy and able to be scaled up and up without losing the core that it began with. something like that.

daniel ricciardo: #sweet and sour - this one is a little silly. sweet and sour is my favorite type of dipping sauce (thai sweet chili, honey fermented garlic, plum sauce, etc.). it goes with anything. sometimes it seems out of place, but it can make or break a taste profile (yeah i’m going with the tasting notes for something you dip french fries in sue me). it’s a rare combination in nature, but when you find it it’s an absolute treat. think kiwis, key limes, meyer lemons. little gems of their own that don’t always get enough credit.

charles leclerc: #the taste of paradise - lyrics from “sad child” by brother leo and sandro cavazza which is on pierre’s f1 spotify playlist. charles is like a character you wish you wrote. he’s born from greatness, in a place that lots of people consider a paradise of excess. he’s gifted from the start. his nickname is literally something out of a YA fantasy coming of age book. but when you’ve had the taste of paradise and then have bad luck and struggles and loss like he has, does it taste bitter? does he resent the thing he’s experienced and the places he’s come from? is all worth the chase of his paradise (the championship)? i love my little depression, angst, and burdened by destiny mouse. mwah

nico rosberg: #crown prince - he’s racing royalty. he was in line to be the next crowned since the day he put his ass in a kart seat. but his life is forever intertwined with a challenger for his throne. the befriend each other and they are at each other’s throats. he gets his crown, but then quits the sport entirely. he just needed to catch the golden ring. but did the then get to let go? or is he still sagging under the weight of greatness?

lewis/nico: #violent delights - they have violent ends, bro. like fire and powder which as they kiss consume, bro!

max/daniel: #equinox - when i first joined f1 there was a beautiful series of art pieces going around of drivers as tarot cards, and the artist cast max as the moon and daniel as the sun. i was obsessed with it. i love the idea of them as polar opposites, traveling on the track over and over again, day after day, and it’s not clear who is chasing who. and an equinox is the day in a year where they’re perfectly balanced when day and night are of equal(ish) length. they are equals on those days, neither of them winning or losing the chase.

seb/mark: #whether the medicine is enough - i was writing analytics and found this bonkers quote from mark that he gave after the 2013 malaysian grand prix. he says he’s going to go surfing as medicine to soothe the wound of multi-21. and he doesn’t know if it will be enough to let it go. i think “whether x is enough�� is a theme in the way i dissect martian. is their love enough, their raw attraction enough, their manners, their forgiveness, their history enough to see them through to a place where they can stay together? i say yes, because they’re down so fucking bad for each other. but i love to pull at the threads that they’ve woven together to grow close and see which one might be loose.

daniel/charles: #true blues - the saying means “the real thing.” the fall out boy song ginasfs twists it to mean true blues as in true sadness, true longing, blue eyes, nostalgia, going out with a bang, not being able to let go of something that was just a flash in the pan for someone else. i love taking their vegas trip and projecting on it, basically. see: there is a ghost at the end of this song.

thank you so much for asking and sorry this is a fucking essay!!!! and if there's a driver or ship that i blog about but haven't made a tag for yet, it's because inspiration hasn't struck. my smick and my sebastidan and my michael schumacher tags are desperate for a personal touch but i just haven't found the ones.

#answered ask

17 notes · View notes

cordeliaflyte · 1 year ago

Text

I have been tagged by @meadowsidevalley to post a song for each letter of my username thank you mwah 💕 tried to include a variety of genres :-)

Changes by David Bowie

Old Pot Still Cooks Good Rice by Ros Sereysothea

Rage Over A Lost Penny by Ludwig van Beethoven

Dambala by Exuma

Eponine's Errand by Kaho Shimada and Michael Ball (from Les Misérables: The Complete Symphonic Recording)

Lime Tree Arbour by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

I Am a Rock by Simon & Garfunkel

A Piacere di Nuovo by Nicholas Britell

Funny Little Frog by Belle & Sebastian

List do matki by Violetta Villas

You Keep Me Hangin' On by the Supremes

There Goes a Tenner by Kate Bush

Ella, elle l'a by France Gall

tagging @ladyoftheharbour @justinefrischmanngf @pureheroine2013 @parsleypesto ^_^

5 notes · View notes

littlegoldfinchh · 3 years ago

Text

thank you for tagging me @mothmonologue !! I made a new post because the last one was getting a bit too long hehe

Prompt: post your lockscreen, homescreen, last song, and last saved photo!

(my lockscreen and homescreen are the same pic)

+ last saved photo

It's a screenshot of a facebook post that made me laugh so hard that i teared up lmao

It's about. Well. This woman is saying that we should clean our wombs after getting nutted in because guys leave this energy line inside us with their cum and we're basically feeding them our energies (through the cum i guess?) at least for 7 years. Because pussy is like soil and cum is like seed and soil is. Feeding the seeds

And she wants to teach us how to clean our WOMBS properly which im so confused about because. Don't put stuff in your wombs people you will hurt yourselves

So yeah! That's the screenshot about basically djkd

Tagging: @doc-zaius @thomatual @caninefangs and @dawn-reaper

no pressure of course mwah<3

8 notes · View notes

doiedreams · 4 years ago

Text

ᜊ NATURAL LOVE | lmk ᜊ

║⇢ genre: fluff ద

║⇢ warnings: none

║⇢ wc: 674 words

║⇢ listen to: garden kisses by giveon

As the very last raindrops of the clouds up above hit the concrete beneath your feet, the inviting petrichor of the brisk post-rain air filled your lungs. On a journey of its own, the wind whipped through the knitting of your sweater, weaved in and out of the minimal space between you and Mark’s hands that were snugly intertwined, and returned to the vast airspace above your heads. When you lightly squeezed Mark’s hand, you could see his cheeks begin to rise to reveal a smile on his face. He fixed his beanie to cover a little more of his face as he walked.

“Perhaps we should’ve brought an umbrella. After that drizzle, you seem cold,” you said, moving your free hand to cocoon his in between both of your palms.

“It didn’t even rain that much, babe. I’m fine,” Mark said with the same small smile present on his face. You took his word for it and continued to relish in the verdant surroundings you loved so dearly after a nice sprinkle of rain while you walked home.

From your observations, Mother Nature seemed to work in mysterious and wondrous ways. There was so much beauty in the occurrences of the natural phenomena around you. Everything worked together to contribute to the flourishing essence of the earth. Subtle things, like the long earthworms Mark stopped to watch for a few seconds before resuming your stroll. The rich soil in which the worms emerged from, abandoning the home and safety of the underground to take a breath of fresh air as its former habitation flooded with rainwater from the sky. The roots of a sprout growing from far beneath the soil surface, unearthing the potential of the seed it originated from. All of these natural and wonderful happenings of nature dovetailed into each other to produce the lush, idyllic, earth you live in.

When you think of how the planet sustains such an immense amount of life through its natural processes in such an effortless manner, your mind reaches for every moment and memory you have with Mark. Starting from the shy yet fated glances you gave each other one day from far away tables in a coffee shop. Love at first sight? Perhaps. It just as easily could’ve been the predestined ways of the world, bringing you two together through one look of the eye.

Then, the first words you exchanged with each other; nervous and unsure in your own heads, yet the conversation flowed out of your mouths with ease and certainty. Despite having never spoken to him before, you knew him, he knew you.

Even the moment you suggested going star-gazing with him and he couldn’t find it in him to say no, although he didn’t really see the value in it. Had he not gone with you, he wouldn’t have seen how your love was quite literally written in the stars; your initials having been spelled out in the vast night sky by the small glowing orbs in the distance. Maybe he was just looking at it from an awkward angle that would’ve made the stars take up another image from a slightly different alignment, but he chose to believe it was a sign. You chose to believe him.

Your love story could have gone in many different directions, encountered many different challenges, come to various premature endings, but somehow, every little event fell into place to perpetuate the love you knew you had from the very beginning.

Seeing all of the earth’s wonders around you as you walked down the path back home with Mark by your side, you’re reminded that no natural disaster was strong enough to knock Planet Earth out of its orbit, nor could it stop its habitats from flourishing in the way it was created to flourish. Seeing such a thing transpire in front of your own eyes every day gave you full confidence that the natural love between you and Mark Lee would never stop harboring life, light, and affinity for years to come.

a/n: the way i was gonna try and write a request but sat on my ass in bed overnight and wrote this instead. anyways... thank you for reading! i don’t know how i feel about this yet but we’ll find out 😼

if you have any thoughts, feedback, or criticism, please let me know! as always, it is highly appreciated and encouraged :) mwah.

proofread by: @ncteaxhoe @hunjins (sorry for the tagging again!)

[REPOSTED due to tags]

networks: @nct-writers @neowritingsnet @neo-the-stars-net @kpopscape @neoturtles @czennienet

93 notes · View notes

i-am-the-balancing-point · 3 years ago

Note

hey, it’s your secret santa! i was just wondering if you could send me some more info on GiGi? that and maybe an order of which of the Seeds you would most like to see her with?

thank you! ♥️

hello hello 🌝💘 this is so exciting and I‘m already super curious about what you have planned!

Gigi is 24 and smol (1,62m) but filled to the brim with energy and shenanigans. She has dark brown hair and eyes and very pronounced eyebrows which are, like her mouth, very expressive. Her hair is cut into a sidecut which she sometimes wears in a half-bun. It's neither very straight nor really wavy but super voluminous and her tresses reach at least past her shoulder blades. The texture that can’t make up its mind goes along with a bunch of stray and baby hairs framing her heart-shaped face which is all neatly tied together by a pair of under-eye circles in varying shades of darkness. Honestly, I‘d say her face is a tie between Gal Gadot and Citra Far Cry 3. The most accurate -- it's pretty much spot on! -- image of her face and hair which coincidentally was the first one came from a picrew (pls dm me if you‘d like ref pics! considering stuff like the secret santa event it wasn’t super smart to pick myself as faceclaim for my oc 😂). I have started on a ref sheet for her but it's still a wip and honestly not much more atm than what I have posted here and this is still missing the pride scar on her inner thigh.

In regards to clothing and weapons, her "standard" outfit is either the troublemaker top with black skinny jeans (like here) or the deputy uniform and western boots. And of course, she always wears her cowboy hat and carries her baseball bat. In addition to her gun but she is not super fond of using that. I made a mood board for her style previously, maybe that is interesting to you. :3

Generally, the tag for my rookie is #my dep and I put everything in regards to her under it.

As for an order of the Seeds I would most like to see her with it's probably Jacob > Faith > John or Joseph.

Again, thank you so so much! I am insanely excited what you have in the works and am looking forward to Christmas ^-^ mwah!!

#me *obsessively picks nails over this bc I'm ECSTATIC*#answered asks #anon #Far Cry 5

2 notes · View notes

starry-night-rose · 2 years ago

Text

AWWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH POOKIE BEAR MWAH MWAH! I will use any chance I can get to talk about my odd music taste!

𓆩♡𓆪 Noel’s Lament - Ride the Cyclone

𓆩♡𓆪 Gaston - Beauty and the Beast

𓆩♡𓆪 Pomegranate Seeds - Julian Moon

𓆩♡𓆪 You & Me Song - The Wannadies

𓆩♡𓆪 Voulez-Vous - Mamma Mia

My music taste is definitely something!

Tagging - @geminiiviolets @rosietrace @sakuramidnight15 @cinnamoroxie @oseathepebble @hamstergal @daisyneptune + anyone else who sees this and wants to join!

rules 🎶 :: when you get this, list 5 songs you’ve been listening to & tag 5-10 people.

tagged by :: @photmath @karotland @okayymochi

1 :: r.i.p 2 my youth by the neighbourhood ➛ been looking back at some of my old playlists and found a couple gems

2 :: born to die by lana del rey ➛ one to many tiktok edits has me back in my lana del rey headspin and I'm not complaining about it

3 :: lied by wizthemic ➛ it's just a good song that I randomly found a while back I have listed to it ever since

4 :: wildest dreams (taylor's version) by taylor swift ➛ a classic and something that I listen to when day dreaming

5 :: cleanin' out my closest by eminem ➛ this just fuels my rage from time to time

taglist :: @silvervioletvalentine @sebscore @fxllfaiiry @mbappebby @sidcrosbyspuck @kiwisa @kiryoutann @mrs-bellingham @joaofelixes @lcvertrl

#reblogs!#mutuals <3 #nem 🎨

569 notes · View notes

aragima · 4 years ago

Text

hannibal questions! 🍖🔪

@nietzscheantrout @horrorlesbians and @hanniba1 wanted me to answer these hannibal questions and i wrote too much but oh well! thanks to all 3 of you ilu!!!

favorite episode and why: oh we’re just goin straight to the hard questions huh um OKAY so i think i can only do an ep a season - s1: SORBET SUPREMACY! you get to see the exact moment will looks at hannibal and thinks “.........shit. it’s him isn’t it. he’s The One. SHIT.” and that is so important to me - s2: this one is really hard maybe naka-choko? it’s so fucking gay and sexy. but tome-wan... but mizumono............ yeah idk - s3: torn between digestivo and the wrath of the lamb cuz they both hurt SOOO good much; i love will breaking up with hannibal and hannibal manipulating the situation so will can’t leave asldkjansk it’s so toxic we have to stan..... and for twotl i mean do i really have to give a reason every scene LIVES in my mind and it contains my favorite shot in the whole show:

that is LOVE baby! that is DESIRE! that is being ENTHRALLED!!!!

least favorite episode and why: i feel like they’re all so necessary that it’s kind of impossible to say but probably antipasto. i get sick of hannibal and bedelia’s shenanigans really quickly and as much as i hate to admit it... i miss will. i also think it was an extremely weak season opener and i blame it for getting the show canceled sjshshsgsg the resentment...

favorite side character: chiyoh or jimmy or actually wait— RANDALL TIER 🖤

if you could bring back one character who died, who would it be?: RANDALL FUCKING TIER. i want there to be a weird thing with him and hannibal and will going on. but also i love what his death did for will so idfk, other than him it’s gotta be beverly

dish prepared in the show that you would like to try eating/making: i was supposed to make hannibal’s osso bucco recipe like 3 weeks ago but it completely slipped my mind so i guess i’ll get on that my next grocery trip

which side character would you kill off?: chilton just because for god’s sake just let the man DIE ALREADY poor guy <- i’m taking ava��s answer because YEAH

was there any scene that you didn’t like to look at?: nah. the skin ripping scenes at the beginning of either kaiseki or sakizuki (idk i don’t remember, i hardly watch s2a) are particularly brutal but i tough it out

biggest ship: i mean do i even have to say

why did you start watching hannibal?: my wife, who was my girlfriend at the time, and her dad were watching it as it was airing and i was like “oh cool hannibal lecter origin story” but due to inconsistent access to the episodes i would just watch it randomly and that is... not the way to watch hannibal. i gave up around the end of s2 but knew hannigram was It regardless. i decided to watch s3 for the first time earlier this year just to have finished it and was like HOLD UP and did an immediate rewatch that left me... well, how i am now

favorite hannibal fic if you’ve read any?:

oh boy. yall ready for this? all of these can be found on ao3 obviously (i’m so sorry this is so long but i guess i’ve been asked to put together a fic rec anyway)

as soft, as wide as air by blackknightsatellite, the ladders series by emungere, blackbird by emungere, consenting to dream series by emungere, taken for rubies by emungere, at first meeting by emungere, protect me from what i want by @alienfuckeronmain, god of the cold, cold wars by highermagic, the abyss smiled back by highermagic, pomegranate seeds by highermagic, absolute zero by highermagic, in the truly gruesome do we trust by sidnihoudini, TKO by sidnihoudini, oh dear by lunarwench, each according to its kind by chapparral_crown, a flood in our hearts by nanoochka, let me sinful be by darlingred, uncomplicated by stratumgermanitivum & youaremydesign, good bones by @damnslippyplanet, like they do in babylon by @damnslippyplanet, your obedient servant by kareliasweet, past our satellites by shotgunsinlace, only the tender meat by isagel, the shape of me will always be you by missdisoriental, a white-walled room by rodabonor, spleen et idéal by rodabonor, the paper doll series by rodabonor, a common point of interest by rodabonor [i do NOT like a/b/o stuff but if i did... it’s this fic], just thought you should know by earthsickwithoutyou, the sacrificial lamb by princesskay, transcendent suffering by itsbeautiful, not something polite by moistdrippings, leave your message after the tone by onewhositswithturtles, holes in the floor of the mind by feverdreamblood, crossing caina by feverdreamblood, the archipelago series by melusine10, but seas between us braid hae roar’d by kareliasweet

have you watched any of the hannibal films?: yeah all of them except manhunter! i grew up watching silence of the lambs because my mom loved it and i went thru a big edward norton phase as a teen so i’ve seen red dragon like 10 times

have you read the thomas harris books?: no and i’m not going to lmao #fakefan

favorite murder tableau: if we’re talking just hannibal’s- the judge. if we’re talking Murder Bad But Kinda Pretty like in general probably the mushroom people or the totem

favorite blood spill: will imagining hannibal while he beats randall to death or The Gutting of Will Graham

what’re some of your headcanons?: - will is good at shibari (backed up in canon: his fishing knots, the firefly man’s full body hishi karada harness) - hannibal rarely listens to modern, non-classical music but he’s a björk fan and he saw one of her chapel performances during the vespertine era and was Moved - will listens to classic rock (zeppelin, the doors, pink floyd) with some classic country (patsy, merle, johnny) and blues (billie, muddy, bessie) thrown in. he’s also a sucker for early/mid-90s college rock/alternative/grunge - will plays the piano (because of the piano in his living room) and the harmonica (because he’s country white trash); he’s kind of shit tho - hannibal fell for will somewhere between “my thoughts are often not tasty” and “you won’t like me when i’m psychoanalyzed” (love at first sight! at last sight! at ever and ever sight!!!) - will’s circumcised, hannibal isn’t 🤪 - hannibal’s a gemini!!!! adaptable, creative, intelligent, outgoing, impulsive, etc - will’s an aquarius!!!!! analytical, a loner, temperamental, unique, compassionate, etc - will’s mom was jewish go read my fic about it https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774326 - hannibal is an agender man (tbh i think of this as canon, it’s just unstated/undefined) - hannibal can speak russian, spanish, and a teensy bit of portuguese in addition to the other languages we know he speaks (lithuanian, english, french, italian, japanese) - will speaks limited amounts of french; he learned it as a kid in louisiana - ED TW will sometimes has a Difficult relationship with food due to food instability by the way of poverty as a kid and goes through periods where it’s hard to keep himself fed, but hannibal is so good for him in that way because he keeps him from going hungry 😓 (yes this is me projecting but also it makes SENSE) - hannibal typically bottoms but THEY DEFINITELY ARE BOTH VERS and will never stops being surprised by how much he loves catching a dick. every time is like religious experience. okay? okay - they’re also both very kinky and switches but tbh.... will was made to Dom hannibal like that’s the reason he exists he could drag that old bitch around by a leash and hannibal would be in heaven HANNIBAL WOULD CALL HIM SIR - the first time they have sex hannibal comes like immediately but he isn’t embarrassed because he’s hannibal fucking lecter and hannibal lecter doesn’t get embarrassed - i have a hc for their favorite sex positions but i’m not gonna put that here because i don’t want yall calling me crazy any more than you probably already do but if you wanna know just DM me all i do is think about them fucking it’s a curse - okay no more dirty stuff abigail called hannibal “dad” on more than one occasion and it was half-joking but it also felt comfortable to her; she never thought to call will “dad” because he’s a weirdo and never knew her as much as he knew his idea of her - hannibal taught her to play piano at the cliff house - beverly is pansexual!!! - brian and jimmy kissed one time when they were drunk and they NEVER talk about it EVER - chiyoh is straight probably. i know, i know, everyone says she’s a lesbian and if she’s a lesbian to you that’s awesome! she’s a lesbian! but idk i just think she’s SO fucking straight and tbh i mourn bc that’s my wife. she could MAYBE be bicurious... - chiyoh is non-monogamous and doesn’t do serious relationships, she doesn’t like the idea of being tied to one person ever since she left the lecter castle - she helped hannibal and will escape after The Fall; she told hannibal she would continue to watch over him and i think she did, she got them a boat and got them the fuck out of there - MOLLY IS DOING SO MUCH BETTER WITHOUT WILL. SHE’S SO GLAD SHE GOT OUT OF THAT WHEN SHE DID. she has a good, long talk with alana and finds out all the shit about him and hannibal that will never told her (and it was a lot), gets drunk and burns all his shit, and then washes her hands of the whole thing; moves to a different state, gets a girlfriend, and never thinks about will again

okay i’m capping it there or i’m never gonna stop!! i’m not tagging anyone cuz i think everyone has done this by now lmao but if you’re a mutual who hasn’t and you want to just do it and say i tagged you!! mwah!!!!

#blood #long post #hannigram fic rec #hc

44 notes · View notes