Tumgik
#the womb as the uncanny
seoafin · 1 year
Text
I'm so glad mao's favorite character in bllk is rin/bachira bc bachira is one of my favorites so I just have to sit and wait for the inevitable
13 notes · View notes
getodrools · 4 months
Text
𐙚 COMPARABLE FANTASIES: TOJI FUSHIGURO!
Tumblr media
IN WHICH, toji proves even with new, cold attachments, he could still make you feel good regardless...
I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! reader. slight jjk spoilers. lazy dovey morning turned messy feral muah mess. fingering. breeding. cock warming. squirting. creampies. | WC –> 0.8k+ est ! !
Tumblr media Tumblr media
TOJI'S TONGUE PLAYS AT the shell of your ear, slipping in to whisper, "you feel… full." nuzzling down, you ache into his touch.
feening at cold metal dipping between bodies, toji trails along your tummy to mush at the small bump of devotion pooled stickily in your womb. his scar curls with his lips – smirking at the ghastly amount as he keeps his softening cock deeply buried in your walls.
groaning and twisting at the warm fill and shivering and cooing at the foreign object drifting at your skin. it was crushing to see the man you love once kiss death and now filled in with a new century of technology...
though, how he handled it. it was, manly... tantalizingly fun too.
filthy.
cold — freezing more of... the sudden touch of his new arm snipped at bare skin, feeling him slip between shaken legs was like glaciers moving through water… soon, catching at the puckered hood of your clit, he winds steady circles.
“cold? heh...” his words trail off into a husky groan, almost mocking at your worn shivers.
spent and warmly settled to spooning, his cock rests a slow rhythm before popping out. unplugged… a warm, white mess follows, dripping a soiled puddle into silk sheets.
toji knew it made you squirm — knowing the truth. it was new and something to get used to.
no different, he spreads slippery folds wide, forcing them to hug, now, two silvery fingers and cling tight as he pummeled cum back where he deems belongs. toji was quick and busy at stuffing spongy walls to the hilt, all while you were marveling in the taunt texture the entire way through, feeling scraps digging at you with fierce intent.
eyes fluttering back, toji pecks along your jaw,
"see, 's still makes you feel good.." lewdly locking lips, you squeeze at his forearm; the mass once strong muscle, scarred and expanse, now smooth, dull - and uncanny... but the sensible warmness growing to your tone left an ache.
incredulously prodding away, he digs eager fingers into your cum-swollen cunt – and one moment they weren't, the next, they were pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves, running circles. your thoughts too, running mindlessly, hearing the squelching batter of juices and tainted shame.
"you're making me hard again, baby... maken' those pretty moans in my ear." you curl into his chest, sobbing out moans as his fingers pressed down and worked into your slit. hard and smooth, he dug them into the pliant, slick heat of your pussy, squishing at walls and kneading them around working digits.
you mewl, "oh!–" crudely before whimpering into submission. toji pops the metal tools out, yet kept a steady rhythm at your puffy hood, and probed his bulbous cockhead – hitting into you in no time at all. full chastity, his cock swole and throbbing again. toji sets a rhythm. strong and paced, and keeping firm at your clit; rolling and pinching when warm walls squeeze at his base.
toji holds you close as you sink into fervent putty; his arms so strong, one just as the other, keeping you warm and close... your stomach is coiling and your jaw hangs, "my pretty girl likes being stuffed? you enjoy looking like a mess? huh?" his free hand tucks under your neck, bullying eye contact from you.
you shakily nod.
"nothing can stop me from making you feel good baby?" he would be foaming at the mouth if possible; gasping at the deep-set of jungle eyes hooded, almost hunting for you through lids,
"don't ever doubt me, sweetheart..." panting with pearls of sweat mixing in, as both of you in sync like beasts – tongues even lapping sloppily at each other.
his life seemed to hold that fine line. It terrified you, every day because it could be any day... only the potency of resilience proved odds... and oddly, it was attractive how much he held that.
he fucked you good and well, always horny and hungry. never knowing if it could be the last to make you scream over his name ‘til you couldn't… the day he faced eternal gloaming and luckily found an escape through it, he stuffed you long and hard – ‘til you were packed like a snow cone...
toji buried himself deep while his swollen crown pushed hard against the breaking walls you lose control of – shivering in a pulsing high. licking up your throat, a wet and sloppy tongue cursing,
"can you even handle another?" he was mocking you and at your weakness, watching through droopy eyes how you shook into a mess at such little, yet so much...
watching how he fucks you into a mess and keeping metallic fingers pinched at your clit, you arched a perfect bow into the sheets; cumming a fountain and creaming a translucent ring at his base, his balls rise in a manner you adored in response. In a battering of his hips, solid nth-inch cock meat swelled with oozing cum. heavy holders, no less than before, and just as messy, empties every last drop into you.
barely room, ropes of hot seed decorate the soft mounds of your ass. almost bursting; his cock pops out still jutting in cloud nine as your womb was drowning in delight and with cum still struggling to find space... your chest heaves and his follows.
"ah-... y/n..." catching a rare breath, the same raunchy arm puckers up to your face and drags your chin back to his. showing no difference – just clanking bits and cold metal, he pulls and breathes at your bottom, quivering lip,
"i'll always, take care of you."
Tumblr media
<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>
432 notes · View notes
dark-and-kawaii · 4 months
Note
I’ve really been enjoying your Raphael content and I was hoping to request something along the lines of Raphael reading to tav. Bonus points for dadphael
༺ 𝒜 𝒯𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 ༻
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Raphael Reads To You And His Unborn Child.
Note: This was a lovely request, thank you xoxo
No Warnings, Pure Softness
Tumblr media
Raphael lounged in his chair, sipping on a glass of wine as his eyes scanned over his newly acquired poetry book you had brought back for him. As always, you had an uncanny ability to choose books he thoroughly enjoyed. Setting down his glass he glanced down at you. Your head rested on his thigh, your arms wrapped around his leg holding him close to your chest while you sat on the ground next to him.
He gently played with your hair, letting the strands fall through his fingers before gently massaging your scalp. You let out a soft little mewl as he hit a particular spot on your head, causing goosebumps to form on your arms. It made Raphael chuckle. You were practically purring under his ministrations.
"You’ve quite the talent for bringing me the finest of treasures." he murmured, a smile on his face as you tilted your head back to look up at him. You returned the smile with a soft hum, letting your cheek rest against his thigh.
"You deserve nothing but the best, my love." you said softly, your hand lightly stroking his calf. "I like seeing you happy... I only wish i could've gotten you the crown, but Gale..."
Raphael shook his head, his fingers leaving your hair to cup your chin. With a tender tilt, he guided your sight to lock with his own. "All in due time, my precious little mouse. Time shall turn the tide, but for now we must embrace patience. Upon the arrival of my child, our ranks shall swell with another soul to seek the crown."
You nodded slightly, nuzzling his palm as his hand shifted, your lips graced by his thumb before it finds its way back to your hair to resume its work.
You relaxed, your eyes closing while massaging your swollen stomach, "Read to us, Raphael?" you requested, "Please? It's something i truly enjoy, besides... Your voice, it's so beautiful... And I can't imagine your little one not liking it either."
How could he not concede to such a heartfelt plea? "Very well," Turning his attention back to his book, he started to read aloud a poem from his new volume. His voice low and melodious, soothing you, your eyes fluttered closed as you listened.
"In the bristling thicket, small and meek,
A mouse with a spirit far from weak,
Nibbled on seeds, a feast so slight,
Aware of the fox in the pale moonlight,"
-The rhythmic tone of his voice, the smooth flow of his words, it made a tingle of heat form within your belly-
“Not a hunter, but a friend,
Vowed to shield her to the end,
Against the hawk, against the owl,
In the night when creatures prowl.
A pact unseen by day's bright light,
Forged in trust through the quiet night.”
Your hand slid up his thigh and he shifted, spreading his legs open. A subtle invitation for whatever it is you wished to do. You shifted, rising to your knees and leaning forward between his legs. Your arms wrapped around his waist best they could so you could use his stomach as a pillow.
“Each night beneath the star's gentle sweep,
He guards her dreams, her peaceful sleep,
Whiskers twitching, she slumbers unaware,
Of the fox’s gentle loving stare.”
Raphael paused, glancing down at you. Your eyes were shut, your breathing slowed. Like the mouse in his book it would seem sleep had taken its hold on you.
Setting his book aside he carefully shifted you. He pulled you into his lap, his hand finding its way to the swell of your stomach as he held you in a protective embrace.
Raphael could feel his little one wriggle and shift in the safety of your womb. Gently he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his eyes studying your features.
Just like the fox in the book, Raphael silently vowed to protect you and his little one to the very end. And that the hells would bend to his will once he has the crown, and all will be well.
211 notes · View notes
queenimmadolla · 10 months
Note
It’s crazy how you were just trying to buy some groceries, then this happened.
We gotta release baby Penny from the shackles of Eddie Munson ✊😔 but I fear it might be too late AHHH-
Tumblr media
It was too late the moment one of his swimmers succeeded.
You really can’t turn your back to Eddie without expecting him to put Penny on display in anyway. He can’t help it! Look, you’ve mentioned loving his eyes before—quite a few times and he’s taken advantage of it whenever he could, batting his eyelashes at you to get you to stop being mad at him, the puppy dog stare to get you to cave into his whim (and also get him into your good graces). The point is, he was very aware of how pretty you thought his eyes were, though he never really got the big deal. Fond of them, sure, because his Uncle Wayne always told him he’d had his mother’s eyes, and he could see the uncanny resemblance in photos he had of her—still wasn’t a big deal.
Until you’d had Penny. From the first moment he held her, cradled against his chest and curled in on herself as though she were still in your womb, pulling herself from her own exhaustion to open her eyes and stare up at him, Eddie understood. Eddie finally got it, knew what you saw.
He’d been expecting them to be big—could tell even with her eyelids shut, thanks to how they almost seemed to bulge and take up a good amount of her face, but he hadn’t been expecting the innocence in them, her chocolate gaze luring him in, easily uprooting everything he considered of importance to him—music, art, teenage dreams—and taking their place. And she did it all with a few blinks. Eddie was finally a victim to his own eyes, staring back at him from such a precious, new face.
He fucking loved it. Loved her.
She’s so damn cute, he literally cannot stop staring at her. He’s a obsessed. And he’s proud. You made her, but he helped! He fertilized that egg, she’s a perfect mixture of the both of you, and with the newness of it all—he’s just gotta share! Camera in a grocery store??? HELL YEAH.
He’s holding her right up to it, LOOK AT HER!!!!! LOOK AT WHAT HE HELPED MAKE!!! LOOK AT THOSE ANGEL EYES AND LOVE HER, RIGHT! NOW!
Meanwhile, there’s not a single thought in your sweet little babies head, she is but a mere puppet for Eddie’s antics. His little babydoll bestie.
She’s lucky she was born before The Lion King came out. You know damn well what scene he would constantly re-create with your baby, and force his friends to get in on.
You’re no better, if you’re holding her, you will always find your way to a mirror so penny can see how cute-beautiful-gorgeous she is and say something like, “That you,” or “Oh my goodness, who is that beautiful little angel??? Is that you??? Are you mama’s pretty girl? Yeah, you’re mama’s angel, huh? Aw, so pretty! The prettiest girl around.” And you do it all the time because Penny gives you that gummy grin, loves it when you tell her how pretty she is or just when you use that baby talk tone.
408 notes · View notes
doubleca5t · 1 year
Note
You will never be a real woman. You have nc
womb, you have no ovaries, you have no eggs.
Your body is twisted by drugs
and surgery into a crude mockery of nature's
perfection.
All the "validation" you get is two-faced and
half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you
Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you
your "friends" laugh at your ghoulish appearance
behind closed doors.
Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of
years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out
frauds with incredible efficiency. Even trannies
who "pass" look uncanny and unnatural to a man
Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And
even if you manage to get a drunk guy home with
you, he'l turn tail and bolt the second he gets a
whiff of your diseased, infected axe wound.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake
smile every single morning and tell yourself
it's going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the
depression creeping up like a weed, ready to
crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it'll be too much to bear - you'll buy
a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and
plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will
find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no
longer have to live with the unbearable shame
and disappointment. They'll bury you with a
headstone marked with your birth name, and
every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a
man is buried there. Your body will decay and go
back to the dust, and all that will remain of your
legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably male
Why is this anon hate formatted like a free verse poem
299 notes · View notes
fanficapologist · 1 month
Text
Of Dragons and Maelstroms
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Tumblr media
Chapter Seventy-Two
Two dragon eggs are laid. One in the rivers, one in the maelstrom.
Helaena had tried to warn her, time and time again. The egg that had been laid in the maelstrom had belonged to Maera. And the egg in the Rivers, Alys Rivers, was now staring Maera in the fucking face. A large shadow temporarily blocked light coming in from the small window, the witch’s form illuminated by the light of the hearth. Maera’s eyes widened as she watched the unborn child stir beneath the fabric of Alys’s dress, a silent dance of life within her womb. Alys’s hand instinctively moved to rest atop her swollen belly, a tender gesture that spoke of the deep connection between mother and child.
As Alys looked up, her cat-like green eyes with golden flecks met Maera’s gaze, holding it with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. The witch smiled, answering the question that had not dared been asked. “I have the dragon's bastard in me. I can feel his fires licking at my womb.”
Maera took a shaky breath, her own hand instinctively coming to rest on her smaller stomach beneath her damp riding leathers. The contrast between Alys’s swelling belly and her own barely perceptible bump only served to heighten the turmoil of emotions swirling within her.
Anger boiled within Maera, mixing with a potent concoction of hurt, betrayal, and a deep sense of injustice. She felt a surge of violent rage coursing through her veins, the urge to lash out and seek vengeance consuming her thoughts.
"You look upset," the witch remarked casually, her tone almost taunting. "You needn't be."
Maera's jaw clenched at the sight of the woman before her, her frustration palpable. "You stand there, pregnant with my husband's child, and wonder why I am upset?" she retorted, her voice tinged with incredulity.
Alys sighed softly, a dismissive shake of her head accompanying her words. "It is the Gods' will, Princess. I have seen it."
The mention of divine will only fueled Maera's irritation further. She took a step closer to Alys, her posture tense with anger. "And I wonder," she began, her voice laced with sarcasm, "was the death of my aunt Viserra and her family also part of this divine plan?"
Alys lowered her gaze to her stomach as she absentmindedly caressed the curve of her abdomen. "It was necessary," she stated coldly, her tone devoid of remorse.
"Necessary?!" Maera's incredulous laughter filled the room, a mixture of shock and disbelief evident in her expression. She raised her eyes heavenward, as if seeking answers from the gods themselves.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Maera stepped forward once more until she was practically nose-to-nose with Alys. Their physical similarities were uncanny, but Maera refused to let that distract her. "My husband is a great man," she began, her voice firm and unwavering, "but he has been an idiot."
Maera's gaze bore into Alys's, her stance unwavering as she continued to speak. "You may be able to fool him with pretty words of prophecy, to manipulate him into laying with you and filling your womb," she continued, her voice dripping with disdain, "but I am not so easily swayed."
The witch simply hummed to herself, completely unperturbed by Maera's threatening demeanour. She turned her gaze towards the fire dancing in the hearth below the steel pot, the flickering light casting shadows across her features. The flames swirled and leaped, painting intricate patterns of orange, yellow, and red against the dark backdrop of the hearth. Occasionally, embers would crackle and spark, sending small bursts of light shooting upward before disappearing into the darkness.
“Fire illuminates the truth to those whose eyes are open. No flame is more powerful, nor burns as bright, than that of a dragons,” Alys declared, her voice was calm and measured, betraying no hint of the tension that lingered between them.
Maera furrowed her brow, puzzled by Alys’s strange fascination with the flames. Before she could question her further, Alys turned to look at Maera once again, her eyes reflecting the firelight.
“A great dynasty will be born from the blood of Aemond Targaryen,” the witch proclaimed with confidence, as if it were a proven fact. She rested one hand on her own swollen belly, a serene expression on her face as she seemed lost in thought. “My son…” without warning, Alys reached out to touch Maera's bump with her other hand. Maera's instincts kicked in, and she reacted without hesitation, grabbing Alys's wrist in a firm grip before she could make contact.
The sudden movement caused Alys to glance up, her cat-like green eyes meeting Maera’s with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as she continued, “…and your daughter will return the House of the Dragon to its proper glory. From their union will come the Prince that was promised.”
With a steely gaze, Maera continued to hold Alys's wrist in place, her jaw clenched in determination as she silently dared her to make another move. The action was instinctual, a protective gesture driven by a primal urge to shield her unborn child from any potential harm.
“You are mad,” Maera replied through gritted teeth, her fingers digging into Alys’s wrist, her nails forming crescent moons into the skin.
Alys simply smiled. “It is fate, Maera. Foretold by the Gods.”
Those familiar words. First uttered by the apparition of Lady Gael in her nightmares, the last words she would speak before the dream would tear away the memory from Maera. Helaena had also spoken the words in relation to the broken images that danced within her mind. And now Aemond’s whore had spoken them to her. Maera thought there would be at least be a glimmer of amazement in the stark number of incidents in which these words were spoken. But there was not. There was only bitterness, and unbridled fury.
The wooden door swung open with a resounding bang against the stone walls, causing both Maera and Alys to jump in surprise. Alys's gaze snapped to the door, her small grin betraying a hint of mischief as she managed to slip her hand from Maera's grasp. With practiced grace, she curtsied, head lowered demurely, one hand resting on her swollen belly.
Maera whipped around to face the door, her eyes widening as she saw Aemond standing in the doorway. His long silver hair was tousled, no longer perfectly straight as it had been when he left Kings Landing on his dragon. Aemond's violet eye met Maera's gaze, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face.
He furrowed his brow in a mixture of surprise and concern at finding his wife here, away from Kings Landing. A scoff escaped his lips, accompanied by a deep frown, as he realized she had defied his orders to remain in the capital. He opened his mouth, seemingly to chastise his wife, before his gaze fell onto the witch.
“My Prince,” Alys greeted him, before rising slowly from the curtsy, the movement strained due to her condition
Aemond’s gaze shifted from Maera to Alys, and in an instant, his reaction so pronounced that it seemed to freeze the air around them. His normally composed demeanor shattered in an instant, replaced by a visage of shock and astonishment. The muscles in his jaw tensed, his violet eye widening to the point where it appeared almost unnaturally large against the backdrop of his face.
Maera’s eyes bore into him, capturing every nuance of his expression as he stood there, frozen in the doorway, his single eye locked on Alys’s pregnant form. She noted the disbelief etched into his furrowed brow and the subtle trembling of his lips. Green eyes flicked back and forth between Aemond and Alys, studying their reactions with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Maera noted the absence of fear or concern in Aemond’s eye, no hint of guilt or remorse. It was a raw, unfiltered astonishment that gripped him, leaving him momentarily speechless.
The realization slowly dawned on Maera: Aemond was completely unaware of Alys’s pregnancy. The implications of this revelation swirled in her mind, adding another layer of complexity to the already tangled web of emotions she felt towards her husband and his whore. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Maera was the first to break the silence, an ominously light-hearted tone to her voice. “Well, this is certainly a surprise, is it not?”
She turned her head to glance at Aemond, who remained rooted to his spot, unblinking eye still fixated on the witch’s rounded abdomen. A bitter laugh escaped Maera’s lips. She had never witnessed him so thoroughly taken aback, not even in their childhood. Despite the tumult of emotions roiling within her, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at seeing Aemond so utterly vulnerable, his handsome face now white as a sheet.
“I am sure you have much to catch up on. I shall leave you while I go and settle in my rooms,” Maera declared before taking a step away from Alys and began walking towards her husband. But the she stopped suddenly in her tracks, turning to face Alys once again, as if she had forgotten something. “When is the child due to be born?”
Alys met Maera’s gaze steadily, her expression relaxed. “Two moons, Princess,” she replied evenly, her voice carrying an air of quiet confidence.
Nodding thoughtfully, Maera absorbed the revelation, her mind already processing the implications. She mentally traced back the timeline, realizing that the child would have been conceived around the time of the Harvest Moon Ball.
"Oh, Lady Maera, I can attend to my duties. Very. Thoroughly,” Aemonds previous words echoed in her mind.
Fucker.
The prince had remained in Kings Landing since that day, and whilst that meant that there may not have been adultery in the technical sense, the revelation still stung, igniting a fierce anger within her.
“Has the Maester attended to you?” The Princess asked, seeming concerned for the well-being of both Alys and the unborn child, evident in her voice.
Alys appeared momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question, her brow furrowing in slight confusion. “No, he has not,” she admitted, her tone tinged with uncertainty.
Determined to maintain control of the situation, Maera walked back towards Alys with measured steps. She knew that showing any sign of weakness would only give the witch an advantage. With every graceful movement, Maera silently vowed to handle the situation with cunning and strategy, refusing to let her emotions dictate her actions.
Maera forced a smile, masking her true feelings behind a façade of benevolence as she addressed the witch. “I have no qualms with the child in your womb,” she stated firmly, her words carrying a note of sincerity. “It did not ask to be put there and is innocent in all of this.”
Turning to gauge Aemond’s reaction, Maera found him still rooted to the doorway, his expression a mask of shock. Undeterred, she pressed on. “I will ensure you are examined by the Maester and that preparations are made for the child’s arrival,” she declared, her voice resolute.
Alys blinked in disbelief, gratitude mingling with her surprise as expression softened, a hint of joy shining through her guarded demeanor. “Thank you, Princess. That is kind of you,” she murmured, her tone sincere.
A smirk tugged at the corners of Maera’s lips, a glint of steel in her eyes as she responded, “Yes, it is.” Taking a deep breath, she let the sweetness fade from her voice, her words carrying a warning edge. “But do not mistake my kindness for weakness.”
Maera took another deliberate step towards Alys, her eyes roved over the witch’s form, from head to toe, taking in every detail like she would her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t help but pause momentarily on the prominent swell of Alys’s belly beneath her dress, a stark reminder of her husband’s betrayal. Yet, Maera maintained a façade of control, her expression unreadable as she locked eyes with the witch.
“That bastard in your belly is the only thing keeping you safe,” she sneered, each syllable dripping with venom. “If you touch my husband, no actually, if you so much as even look at him in a way I find distasteful…” She paused, raising a single finger to punctuate her threat. “One word to my dragon, and you will die. Screaming.”
Alys swallowed hard, her bravado faltering in the face of Maera’s unwavering resolve. Her jaw clenched tightly as she met Maera’s gaze, a flicker of fear betraying her composed exterior. “Is that clear?” Maera demanded, her tone sharp and commanding.
“Yes, Princess,” Alys replied begrudgingly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Maera hummed in response, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she studied Alys’s reaction. With a final, pointed glance, she turned on her heel, shoulder-barging past her husband as she left the room.
She strode down the corridor, her footsteps echoing against the stone walls as she sought out the main chambers where she would be staying. As she walked, the silence was shattered by the muffled sounds emanating from the room she had just left. Alys’s voice, barely audible, was soon drowned out by the cacophony of crashing furniture, shattering bottles, and clanging metal. Despite the chaos behind her, Maera did not falter, her resolve unyielding as she continued on her path, refusing to look back.
The flickering candlelight danced across the stone walls of the chamber as the maid busied herself preparing the bath for Maera. The servants at the castle were similar in number to that at Rain House, much less than that of the Red Keep. It might have made her feel at home, it were not for the circumstances. The warmth of the water filled the air, mingling with the subtle scent of lavender that wafted from the nearby candles.
With practiced hands, the maid carefully undid the intricate braids that adorned Maera's hair, allowing the damp strands to cascade down her back in loose waves, dark brown and silver blended together. The laces of Maera's leathers were deftly undone, revealing her curvaceous form and the subtle swell of her growing belly. Despite the warmth of the room, goosebumps rose along her skin as she slipped into the steaming water, the heat enveloping her in a comforting embrace.
Maera sank into the bath with a contented sigh, the water soothing her weary muscles as she leaned back against the edge of the tub. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the maid, preferring to bathe alone in the quiet solitude of the chamber. Alone at last, Maera closed her eyes, allowing the warmth of the water to wash away the tension that had built up throughout the day. The gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the tub provided a soothing backdrop as she let herself relax, if only for a fleeting moment, in the midst of the turmoil that surrounded her.
As Maera lathered the soap in her hands, she felt the familiar tingle of bubbles forming, yet the soothing sensation did little to ease her troubled mind. With each pass of her hands through her brown locks, washing away the grime of travel in dragonback, she couldn't help but feel a sense of futility. No amount of soap and water could cleanse her of the turmoil brewing within.
The thought of Aemond siring a bastard filled her with a sense of helplessness. Would he acknowledge the child? And what of Alys, with her fanciful notions of fate and birthright? Maera feared the influence Alys might have over the child and the potential threat it posed to Maera’s own status as a princess of the Realm and her child’s status as Aemond’s heir.
Rinsing her hair, Maera couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that clouded her thoughts. How long would she be forced to put up with the presence of her husband's whore? It seemed as though she was expected to tolerate the situation, to play the part of the dutiful wife. But Maera knew deep down that she lacked the strength and resilience to endure such a trial.
The sound of the chamber door opening and closing quietly reached her ears as she continued to bathe, signaling her husband's arrival. She didn't need to turn to know it was Aemond; the familiar presence and the glint of silver in her periphery confirmed his presence as he made his way toward the bed. The soft clinking of metal followed as Aemond began to undress, the distinct sound of his belt and the buckles of his doublet hitting the floor before being placed neatly on a nearby desk. His boots followed suit, the dull thud of leather against the stone floor echoing in the chamber as he removed them and set them aside.
Maera stole a glance across the room as she continued to wash, running the bar of soap across her chest and shoulders. Aemond sat on the edge of the bed now, clad only in his trousers and an oversized white undershirt. Despite his stoic expression, his single violet eye betrayed the emotions swirling within him—guilt, and perhaps even fear—as he watched Maera with a mixture of apprehension and remorse. She did not say anything and simply continued with the task at hand, letting the undeniable tension simmer in the atmosphere.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke, his voice tinged with a rare note of meekness. “I did not know,” he muttered, his words almost lost beneath the sound of the water.
Maera glanced up at him briefly, her expression unreadable, before returning her attention to bathing. His words hung heavy in the air, but she made no move to acknowledge him. As she twisted her thick hair in her hand to wring out the water, he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I swear it.”
A humorless laugh escaped Maera’s lips, the bitterness evident in the sound. “I believe you,” she replied, her tone flat and devoid of any emotion.
Aemond’s head snapped up, surprise flickering across his features. “You do?” he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of hope and disbelief.
Maera nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on her task. “I do,” she affirmed, her voice soft but firm. “What I find hard to believe is how you could be so stupid.”
Aemond winced at her words, the weight of her disappointment evident in his downcast expression. “I am sorry, Maera,” he murmured, his tone heavy with remorse.
Maera hummed in response, her movements becoming more deliberate as she stepped out of the bath and reached for a towel. “Do you realize the position you have put me in? Our child in?” she continued, her voice laced with frustration and anger.
Aemond remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor as she began to dry herself off. Maera’s words hung in the air, the tension between them palpable. “It was not an empty threat,” she stated firmly, her eyes narrowing as she turned to face him. “It is a promise. Whatever love I have for you has implored me to be merciful.”
She ran the towel through her hair, squeezing out the water as she turned her back on Aemond, her gaze fixated on the flames of the hearth. “But if she steps out of line once, she will burn, bastard and all.”
The Prince’s reaction to Maera’s chastisement was subtle yet palpable. Though he remained composed, Maera could sense her words cutting him deeply. His eye was fixed on her bare form as she moved across the room, settling into a chair by the mirror to brush her hair, the silver streak standing out amidst the dark curls. Lost in thought as she brushed, Maera contemplated the brewing warfare, both within the Realm and within the walls of Harrenhall against the witch, Alys Rivers. Her mind buzzed with strategies and counter-strategies with each stroke of the brush, each possibility branching out into a web of intricate calculations.
She knew that resorting to brute force against the whore would only play into Alys’s hands, giving the witch the satisfaction of knowing she had rattled a Princess of the Realm. As easy as it would be to simply kill Alys and the bastard within, it only reveal weakness, casting Maera as the jealous wife unable to handle her husband’s transgressions. No, Maera resolved to play the long game, biding her time, and when the moment was right, she would strike with all the cunning and determination of a true Targaryen.
“ Gaomagon ao vēdros issa?” Do you hate me? The Prince asked, as he watched his wife in the mirrors reflection.
“Kessa,” Yes, Maera replied gruffly, her fingers untangling the remaining knots at the end of her hair. She glanced at Aemond’s reflection in the mirror, seeing the tension etched into his features despite his composed facade. It was clear that her words had struck a nerve, stirring up a storm of emotions beneath his stoic exterior. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on her, unwavering in its intensity, as if searching for something within her that he couldn’t quite grasp.
“Yn gaomagon ao jorrāelagon issa?” But do you love me?
His question prompted Maera to close her eyes and sigh deeply. The thought of him being reckless enough to give a woman is seed, and not even think about the consequences of what would happen if it took root in Alys’s womb, filled her with a potent mix of rage and despair. But, she knew that succumbing to such emotions would only weaken her position further.
“Hakotan sīr,” Begrudgingly so, she replied, bittnerness on her tongue as the words left her mouth. While Alys possessed the arcane abilities of a witch, Maera recognised she too was powerful within her own right. She was proficient with the sword, adept at forming alliances, had claimed one of the largest dragons in the world, and, most importantly, ensnared the love and devotion on the One-Eyed Prince.
She stood from her chair that faced the mirror, her bare form ensnaring Aemond to not tear his gaze away, making her way over to her belongings on the other side of the room. She reached into her chest that had been brought in by the guards and retrieved her dagger, the candlelight catching the glint of sapphires and emeralds adorning its hilt, casting mesmerizing reflections.
“I wish I did not. It would make things simpler,” Maera muttered, before turning to look at her husband and strolling towards him. Still sat on the bed, the Prince looked up at her, the silver hair falling away from his face. Approaching Aemond, who remained seated on the bed, his gaze fixed on her, Maera wielded the dagger with a confident air. She pressed its tip lightly against the exposed part of his chest beneath the loose shirt, the metal cool against his skin.
“For instance, I could slit your throat right now for how you have dishonoured me, and not bat an eye,” she purred, applying even more pressure with the blade. As she pressed even harder, Aemond's gaze remained locked on hers as he shuffled backward on the bed. Maera knelt on the mattress, her form following his until Aemond's head thudded against the headboard.
She straddled his hips comfortably, a satisfying smirk crossing her face as she could feel a hardness beginning to grow beneath the fabric of his trousers. “Yet whether to be divine intervention or not, my body will not allow me to press this knife deep enough to kill you.”
A sharp intake of breath escaped Aemond’s lips as the blade broke the skin on his chest, a thin line of crimson welling up in its wake. Maera brought the dagger up to her face, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of intensity and satisfaction as she observed her husband’s blood staining the metal. With deliberate slowness, she opened her mouth and traced the blade along her tongue, savoring the metallic taste of his blood, her gaze locked with Aemond’s, who watched with a potent blend of astonishment and desire, his breath hitching in response.
Grinding her bare core against him, a deep rumbling sound left his throat, his large calloused hands gripping the sheet below him, not daring to touch her just yet. Deciding that he was beginning to enjoy himself a little too much for her liking, Maera snaked her way back down is slender muscular form. The sharpness of the dragger ripped the fabric of the cotton shirt, revealing his toned stomach, a sight that had Maera licking her lips.
The knife stopped at the bulge in his pants and stayed there for a moment. She looked at his face, seeing the tenseness in his jaw and a dusting of pink on his cheeks as he attempted to steady his breathing. With a skilled hand, she hooked the blade underneath the laces, a gasp leaving the Prince’s mouth as Maera pulled the blade upwards, severing the strings that confined his manhood.
Her hand slipped into his breeches to wrap around his length and stroke him slowly, his cock hot and heavy in her hand. She lay on her side between his legs, mindful of her swelling abdomen, as she let her hand slide down his shaft, her touch intentionally light, seeking to draw out the sensation.
“What exactly did you think she would do with the seed you bestowed upon her womb when you lay with her?” Maera asked, her green eyes burning into his as she continued to pump him. No answer came as Aemond attempted to hold back a groan by tensing his jaw. That would not do. Leaning forward she kissed his tip, tongue darting out to catch a bead of his arousal that began to leak from his slit.
He threw his head back, a harsh thud against the headboard indicating that he was beginning to lose control. “Fuck,” he growled, knuckles white from holding the sheets so tightly between his fingers.
“Perhaps wipe it from her body and read what it said in the palm of her hand?” Maera inquired with a mocking tone, before taking him in her mouth. Aemond hissed as she sucked to the base of his length, not breaking eye contact, before coming back up and releasing the cock from her mouth. She tilted her head and continued to taunt him. “Or maybe conduct some sort of ritual and consume it?”
“Maera,” he breathed, the sound of her name from his lips sending a shudder down her spine and causing her core to throb. She wanted nothing more than for him to elicit more such sounds, loud enough even for that whore to hear.
Maera encapsulated him in her mouth once again, swirling her tongue around his tip, ensuring that her eyes were still on his face as he watched her, swiping his tongue against his bottom lip. She settled into a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down his length, noticing how he scrunched his face as the control he had continued to fray at the edges, his hips bucking upwards slightly causing his cock to hit the back of her throat.
As he attempted to entangle his fingers into her damp curls, Maera abruptly pulled back, causing the Prince growl disapprovingly. However, as he watched sit up and move to kneel above his cock, his pupil blew wide with lust, hands finally letting go of the sheets and resting on her plush thighs, fingers digging into the flesh.
“You are a Prince. In my eyes, you are a King,” she whispered in a sultry tone, wrapping her hand around his length and rubbing him against her your entrance so he could feel the slick that had formed there. She sank down slowly on his cock, their eyes remaining fixed on each other as they both gasped. “Not some pathetic wastrel who needs validation from a Strong Bastard,” Maera whined, placing her hands on his chest as she slowly continued to lower herself down, savouring every inch of him until he was fully inside of her.
After a moment she began to roll her hips, grinding against him so her clit pushed against his pubic bone. Her skin prickled at the sensation and that familiar coil in her stomach began to wind its self tighter and tighter. The bruising hold he had on her thighs faded as his hands snaked up her torso, stopping a moment on the small bump of their child, before landing on her large and rounded breasts.
He closed his eye before leaning in and taking one of her nipples into his mouth, the feeling of his tongue swirling around the nub making Maera’s eyes flutter shut. His teeth grazed the skin and her cunt clenched around him, head tipping back as she continued to ride him, Aemond’s hips now snapping upwards to meet her movements.
Deciding to regain a semblance of control, Maera cast her eyes downward to see him staring right back, suckling one of her breasts whilst squeezing and fondling the other. As he switched sides, Maera found herself able to speak. “I am yours because I choose to be. Not because of spells or fate. It’s because I say so,” she gasped, a warning tone beneath the pleasurable noises she made.
Maera picked up the pace, rocking more vigorously as she chased her own high, Aemond now planting his feet on the bed, thrusted upwards, much harder before, hitting that spongey spot within her repeatedly. All of a sudden, blinding white hot pleasure coursed through her veins as her peak hit her, her cunt fluttering around him as he fucked her through her orgasm.
“Seven fucking Hells,” he uttered through gritted teeth, his voice animalistic and feral as he chased his own high, biting his bottom lip so hard that it drew blood. As Maera’s mind became clearer, she continued to ride him, studying his face and paying close attention to his movements as his hips began to stutter, his pace becoming sloppier, his jaw becoming slack.
Aemond was seemingly about to peak, so she promptly hopped off his lap, his cock slipping out of her, glistening in the candlelight with her slick, leaving him shocked and somewhat dazed from the experience. Even though her legs were shaking from climax, she managed to confidently stroll to her chest of belongings, pulling out a nightdress and gown and dressing herself quickly. She caught the reflection of the Prince in the mirror. The image of him sat against the headboard, half-naked with his cock looking painfully hard after he was denied an orgasm was enough to make her chuckle to herself. A fitting punishment.
“I’m going to find a book in the library. Finish yourself off.”
Tumblr media
Notes: Honestly, good for her 🖤
Tags: @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @0eessirk8 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @zenka69
Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
69 notes · View notes
thehollowwriter · 5 months
Text
The Official (Remastered) Bio of Finn Clearcove
Basic Info:
Class: Class C
Dorm: Octavinelle
Club: Gargoyle Research Club
Birthday: 20th November
Age: 17
Height: 146cm
Dominant hand: He's ambidextrous
Unique Magic: Mirror Image. He can copy the voice of anyone he directly touches and their physical form if he pushes hard enough. If he wants, he can limit it to certain characteristics. (E.g: voice or eye colour)
Preferences:
Favourite subject: Art
Hobby: Painting
Likes: Butterflies, reading, music, cooking, painting
Dislikes: Large crowds, loud people, showing his teeth, loud sounds, bright lights
Favourite food: Chocolate mousse, shrimp
Additional Info:
Homeland: The Coral Sea
Species: Cookie Cutter Shark Mer
Family: His father and later on Chrysos who belongs to @distant-velleity
Nickname: Blue Angel, courtesy of Floyd (thank you @azulashengrottospiano for the name!)
Relationships: Finn is polyamorous with the Octavinelle trio
Appearance:
Finn has long, fluffy forest green hair that has a curly seaweed/kelp like shape that goes to just past his is shoulders. It is often tied in a tight bun. His eyes are a bright amethyst and his teeth look like they came straight from the mouth of an angler fish, twisted and horrific.
Finn is very chubby and most people think "soft" and "squishy" while looking at him. Until the dread sets in, that is. He's quite pale as well but has recently started to tan a bit. He is very very small and most of his clothes have to be taken to be adjusted so they actually fit him.
In his true form, Finn's tail and face are forest green in colour, just as is the rest of him. The palms of his hands are seafoam green. His tail is like that of a cookie cutter shark's.
Finn's... fins are riddled with holes and tears. There is a large patch of scarring on his left shoulder and the middle of his tail. He has long black claws that are retractable and incredibly sharp.
Personality:
Finn is quiet and mostly keeps to himself, barely speaking to most people unless absolutely necessary, and is usually polite. He lives be the rule "don't bother me and I won't bother you". His "default" expression, if you will, is usually just a blank or serious face.
Finn is intelligent and quick-witted. He often weeds information out of people for Azul, taking the role of the "therapist bartender" except most people get an uncanny valley feeling if they look at him for too long. Despite his politeness something about him always feels wrong to others. They get this sense of dread that make them want to leave as soon as possible.
Finn is quite sadistic and has a deep love for the twisted and macabre. This is often reflected in his paintings, many of which are disturbing in nature. He is very happy to extend his sadistic ways to other students if he deems it necessary. Only if he deems it necessary. (What he deems as necessary can vary)
Finn is, most of the time, immensely confident in himself and who and what he is. He is quiet but he is not, by any means, shy or timid. He does have his insecurities though, mainly about his teeth since they're often viewed as ugly. He covers his mouth whenever he laughs or smiles in public.
Some "Fun" Facts:
▪︎Finn is haunted by the ghosts of the siblings he devoured in the womb in true shark mer fashion, they aren't aggressive towards him but they are tethered to him and cause him nightmares and endless stress and fear (they are the cause of the sense of dread people get around Finn)
•Finn's voice is very soft and very nice to listen to. It's like a flowing river. He's difficult to hear at times.
▪︎Finn enjoys flying and is very good at it
▪︎His family comes from the deep of the midnight zone, so he is well versed in abyssal magic and the dangerous and powerful spells that come with it
•Finn likes to garden
Fic Masterlist
Tumblr media
Art by @clovenoko
Tumblr media
Art by @boopshoops
.....................................
A/N: Here's the boy! New and improved with an extra long personality section ooops
Tagging: @distant-velleity @krenenbaker @kitwasnothere @officialdaydreamer00 @jaylleoo14 @oya-oya-okay @cynthinesia @azulashengrottospiano @whspermy-name @minteasketches @the-banana-0verlord @adarkenedforest @whspermy-name @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer @ramshacklerumble @cyanide-latte @boopshoops @skrimpyskimpy @jovieinramshackle @quartztwst @amOnline @offorestsongs
@the-trinket-witch @ghostiidasponk @poisoned-pearls
80 notes · View notes
pinkydevil16 · 2 years
Text
Sunshine Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen reader: part 1
Being born from the same womb had made the twins close, it was normal for them to share everything as children. They were two sides of a coin, Y/n the embodiment of sunshine as she brought light to everyone around her. And uncanny ability to make anyone smile, the stuffiest of Lords could not stop the smile pushing to the surface when the young princess gazed upon them. Aemond was cold and calculated, he was the second son, he wanted to be the best, controlled and serious. The two born together believed to be born for each other, where one went the other was surely near by. Impossible to separate them when they would fight for the other, Y/n learnt from a young age her beauty and grace could sway anyone's mind to believe her, to allow her what she wished. She did not want for anything, showing her love for all without hesitation or fear of rejection. Aemond took life by his own hands, he had the advantage of a cock between his legs which meant he gained respect simply by being a man. He had no reason to fear those around him when he was dragon, atleast after he lost his eye. Before he lost his eye he was shy, more reserved in his nature but he did not need to hide from Y/n, they had grown together for 9 moons why should he ever feel a need to hide from her. No matter the conditions Y/n flourished whilst Aemond remained in the shadows, both cunning in their own ways. Each possessing something the other did not, when they worked together they could not be taken down. They were a true match made by the gods and they would reign hell fire on anyone who tried to stop them. 
So this more like an introduction to this series! What do you guys think? Should i create a dragon for Y/n or should they share Vhagar? I'm so excited!
MASTERLIST
Taglist:
@smileykiddie08
@hannaeditzs
@stuckinaf4nfiction
@verybluntstoner
@moonmaiden1996
@yumiassworld
@eonnyx
@whitejuliana1204
@missusnora
@applepyesworld
@mingiholic
@crownofdecit
@destroyingdestiny
@alexisabirdie
@dudfahsn
@littlebatsimagines
@bloode-money
@moonlight-and-stars
@xcharlottemikaelsonx
@onemillionpeopleinone
@random-human02
@hi-im-fan-trash
@meilikki
@sonnensplitter
@jugheadisaweirdo
@lomllino
@celibacy-or-death
@crazylokonugget
@natashaxhellenic
@here4thefanfic
@bubblebuttwade
@disturbing-love666
@sha-aesthic
@solace-inu
@rntrsna
@jeyramarie 
@apollonshootafar
@holb32
@pancakefancake
@claudiajacobs
@maeverae006
@stargaryenx
508 notes · View notes
therrerium-valkryonia · 9 months
Text
Mona's Mistakes
Warning: This is an 18+ story with very uncomfortable or even disturbing topics
In her desperation for any amount of mora she devised a plan to entice men into prostitutions, and made it so she'd make them pay a certain amount for a duration of sex.
Though she wrote down the limit of how many men in one day of work, ten was the limit for a singular 24/7 job and it worked as they waited by the door and she stripped down.
He opened the door and stared at the nude Mona willing to have sex for money, he had stared her down for a little while.
He pulled off his pants and revealed his adornment, a long one as he pressed it uncomfortably close her mouth as she swallowed it whole down her throat.
It was painful at first but she got used to it rather quickly, stroking his penis with her gulping it down deep into her esophagus.
Her body began to rock and swiften in each deepthroat as he began to groan softly and speeding faster, she felt him release a huge amount into her mouth and her eyes widen.
"No- Stop I- can't breathe someone help me!"
He pulled out as she swallows as it went down and it tasted salty and she liked... it somehow.
Client 1:
"Are you okay, Ms. Mona? You sure yo-"
Mona:
"I- I'm okay for the moment. Now there's time."
Her hands pulled him close and she pushed it deep into her pussy, as it jerked and he forced her down hard onto his long dong.
Mona:
"Ah~ Tha- feels so good! Haahhhhh~ By the songs of the win- Ohhhhh~~"
The tip had pierced her cervix and pounded her vaginal walls in an ecstatic form, her breath was erratic as she felt turned on so much.
Mona:
"Agh~ ngghhhhaaa! Make me your toy, Fuck ME harder!"
Pounding deeper and faster, he eventually had to groan and release a hot sperm throughout her womb but she didn't care for any of it.
The bell rang loud and buzzed the door, she pulled off his dick giving him a tight squeeze around his penis tip looking deep in his eyes.
Mona:
"Next ones on the house, you satisfied me. Now get out and meet me next time~"
The next few clients had poured their mora into her jar just to pound into her pussy, they we're tricked but she liked the outcomes.
The morning after was her needing to vomit a whole lot out the window, she felt sick and very tired and knew immediately what happened and that she was pregnant definite with more than one so she used her magical scry ability.
Mona:
"Let's see wh- "
She was stunned that her baby was like her mother, it had a small trait of her first client their similarities we're uncanny.
Mona cried, she was excited since she didn't expect such a beauty of a child that was put here out of her desperation, she loved him.
Mona:
"Mommy's gonna take care of you, okay I'll be sure of that. You'll be safe with me. I promise."
The first four and a half months of pregnancy, she took her motherhood carefully and made the experince based off how much you pay up.
It was at a reasonable price of course, and no one had wanted to cause an abortion but had wanted blowjobs and handjobs.
But at five months only light brushing against her tight pregnant pussy, but at seven months they went wild and chose dildos and doubles.
Mona:
"You paid for anal? Okay, I'm expecting a good time okay?! You understand me here!"
He pushed roughly and she moaned out loudly, her womb filled with strong kicks and pressure but no amniotic fluid or blood came out.
He held her breasts and squeezed out the milk from within her body, made to create a child and pop one out that's what she wanted most.
Mona:
"Ouh! Your rough and I like it! Go dee- Haa~"
The golden desk bell rang for timeout, ending the session a bit early and running a few two hundred thousand mora in total.
Mona:
"I need to save up, I can't go broke anymore."
She temporarily closed for a month, they all sent her dildos and sculptures as a reward and lived it very well, returning four weeks before due.
Mona put up a poster to whoever gets to make her pop gets to impregnate her next, and while waiting looked at herself and posed herself.
Tumblr media
Flushed in red and arms above her head, she licked her lips and leaked milk from her tits that grew larger than before more larger than normal her belly full of life and surprise twins.
She infatuated her belly didn't wish it to end to soon but what happens, it happens but this it can happen again for her as she wants it.
The door opened up, she sat down and he first was tall and very dark and rich as hell and his fair share of eight-hundred and forty-four mil.
Mona:
"Five hours to fuck me into labor and back to being pregnant, are you sure?"
Client 70:
"I wanna be satisfied and if i'm not then I am not sorry for what happens next to your baby"
Fear had engraved her soul when he threatened her twins, she placed a hand on her belly and in a moment she said confidently.
Mona:
"I- I'll make a deal if you leave unsatisfied then you get to do anything to me while I push, and if you leave satisfied than I get to fuck your wife is that a deal?"
His faced was shocked but he nodded to the agreement since he didn't like her much, so pulling out the nine-inches of pain.
He smirked as he pulled her closer, she stroked his penis gently tugging it and he released the heaviest load he could at the moment.
It spewed on her face, sticky and dripping in thick white she took a cloth and wiped it off trying to suck on his large dick.
Sliding his cock in and out her mouth at every movement, vigorously blowing his dick while she had her most intense set of contractions.
Sweat dripped from her body at every inch of it and her eyes widen, as his dick released a shot load that filled her mouth full and she spewed it out her mouth, softly groaning off pain.
Slowly riding to ease into his penis, he was very patient as she slammed it in and slid it roughly and intesifying her contractions, she held her hardened belly's underside and groaned in a strong ecstacy and cry of pain.
Mona:
"Hoo- I feel s- Ah!~ TIIIGGHHHTT!! Hoo- Agh!"
He felt every inch of his dick tightened as she fastened the pace and felt her twins shifting down her womb, as he pulled her in deeper while he released in full ejaculation.
Mona bit her ruby lips and had soft tears roll down her face, the pain was tender and felt though she was burning intensely through restraint, moaning in ecstacy and horrible contracting waves of pain.
Client 70:
"There is still more time but I am satisfied, i'll massage your tenderness for momentary relief"
Gently pressing her belly in an upwards motion, it relieved pain and helped the babies descend further below her cervix, Mona flushed in red.
Mona:
"There's four more hours, we c- mhhmm can keep going for more."
He blankly stared with his yellow eyes and had to say, in his honest opinion of her dedication.
Client 70:
"I respect your dedication, you want them to live a better life than the one you needed to take."
Mona felt the massage move the baby closer to her hymen, and he stopped as to bide time she nodded in approval in his actions.
Mona:
"My waters not broken yet, they can still wait.."
He grabbed her hips and ravaged her body as she gripped on to her belly, rotund and filling with pain but it was pleasurable to her.
She pushed her vagina into his dick, and she moaned out in extreme pain and ecstacy as pains hardened her womb, he galloped deep into her womb and plunged through a slime plug and ripped into her placenta.
Her body orgasmed so violently in pleasure, fluids had filled her womb as her babies had kicked around and she leaked white.
They continued on as his penis touched her uterine walls, he went on and endured an extreme exshaution after long hours still going.
)---------
Hours passed, she leaned against the wall her knees bent in and thighs spread wide, her full bruised pussy burned as the head forced it's way through her vaginal opening.
Mona groaned, grinding her nails into the wall as she clenched her body pushing the head out, it spread her wide and bulged out intensely.
Her mouth opened for breaths, gasping air while she stretches out and popped the head her eyes widened and dilated when a heavy rush of pain made her scream, she pressed her forehead on the wall and let out her pain.
Mona:
"AAAHHHHH! hahuu- MNNGAAAAAAAAAAAA- HRAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"
The shoulder slowly inched out as she heaved and waddled when she collapsed down, falling on her ass it forced out the baby halfway out.
Mona:
"Hmmnnnhhh- NHAAAAAHHH! F- GET O- AA!"
Her head fell back and the baby burst from her womb, a puddle of her client's sperm puddled with a tint of blood as her belly shrank.
Pushing her full might the second twin's quick descent ripping her womb's insides, her gasps swiften and she pushed to her hardest.
Palms pressed into the floor, nails digging into the wooden plank her eyes we're dilated and belly contracts, she gritted her teeth tight.
Mona's body was in sweat and slick she throbbs in pain and with her twin stuck in a crown, tears dripped from her neck as she sobs in pain.
With support from the wall, she took the spell book and opened to the bookmarked page as she read each detail with pain she stared into the cast and read out "Cast it by pressing a palm on your belly and chanting Release!".
On her knees her hands on her belly through the most intense cried out the chant, and gripped on the wooden edge screaming out as the baby gushed out and slipped onto the floor.
Both cords ripped off her but both twins wailed and we're healthy as she crawled around and laid on her side, hugged onto her children her most genuine smile arose widely before she faints into deep darkneess to cooing twins.
54 notes · View notes
socialistexan · 10 months
Note
You will never be a real woman. You have no womb, you have no ovaries, you have no eggs. You are a homosexual man twisted by drugs and surgery into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.
Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even trannies who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk guy home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected axe wound.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Damn dude, do you just spam the same copypasta to trans women all day? What a sad life you lead, my guy. I hope you get better soon.
I'll give you credit, you dug through my blog long enough to find pictures of me that are nearly 3 years old before I even started hormones. You took some of the limited time you have left in your life to do that, you realize that right?
That says more about you than it does me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Jokes on you though, even people that share my brainrot think I'm a weird faggot. That's not news to me, dude.
63 notes · View notes
levmada · 2 years
Note
*taps mic* ahem.. cervix licking w demon levi
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS THIS THIS
//hybrids (demon levi), overstim, service dom Levi, oral (f!receiving), a little biting, tears, multiple orgasms
before he did it, one of his backwards horns, forming a crown around the back of his head, would knock your thigh as this sharpened molars dug in to taste you. but that tongue would immediately soothe the oozing wound before he dives between your inner thighs, where you need him most.
"Gonna try something different this time, okay sweetness?"
holy shit, feeling it thicken and corkscrew inside your clenching pussy. it's just like curling his fingers, but hotter, soaking wet, and much bigger.
god, Levi wants you to cum on him just like that, moaning and shaking turning into silent, gaping quivering as his tongue extends, lapping at your walls in short, sweet flicks.
his tongue splitting for the uncanny ecstasy of your sweet spot being stimulated in alternating up and down movements. growing faster and faster, Levi moaning and sinking his little talons into your legs... leaving bruises...
"Oh fuck! I can't!" you yelp. tears stream down your face as you thrash, held still only by Levi's inhuman strength. "Please, please..."
Which is it? Levi would think, but he knows; he can smell the arousal pelting off you in waves.
more than that, he can taste it.
his lips are plastered to your quivering hole, pinned open by both his thumbs as his searching tongue licks into a much, much tighter hole, as deep as he can get, and you scream.
Your back jumps up off the bed as his tongue, again blunt, circles around it. He can scarcely dip it inside when your pussy squeezes him, more of your gush rolling over his tongue.
Levi is fucking insatiable. Light laps into your womb with his head angled so he's massaging your sweet spot constantly. He wants to make you cum until you physically can't anymore.
what have you awakened in me, anon.
226 notes · View notes
ditzygutz · 5 months
Note
You will never be a real woman. You have no womb, you have no ovaries, you have no eggs. You are a heterosexual man twisted by drugs and surgery into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection. All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors. Women are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed women to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even trannies who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a woman. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk girl home with you, she’ll turn tail and bolt the second she gets a whiff of your diseased penis. You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight. Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably male. This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
You want so badly to hurt me because you r insecure but im literally just chilling and ur making a fool of urself 🩷 enjoy putting urself on blast i guessss
13 notes · View notes
ms-metra · 4 months
Note
You will never be a real woman. You have no womb, you have no ovaries, you have no eggs. You are a homosexual man twisted by drugs and surgery into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.
Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even trannies who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk guy home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected axe wound.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably male.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
lmao thanks you're so nice
I needed a good laugh
8 notes · View notes
mutasmutosarchive · 3 months
Text
bonds of ichor and viscera
summary: no matter how long time kept them apart, the bond of twins always prevails (or your twin sibling shows up to bully you for playing god)
word count: 3k+
tags: @eternally-smitten , @felixrichtershubby , @sugar-and-pearls , @blairyl (lmk if you want to be tagged)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The dull rattle of the wooden door under Mavis fist as she knocked echoed in the night air. She gave a small yawn as she rubbed her eyes. The dark haired woman looked at the paper in her hand. A messily scribbled address on it and a name. She was hoping this was the right place and she wasn't accidentally disturbing some poor sod if the person she was looking for wasn't there.
She could hear the heavy patter of footsteps on the other side of the door as they neared the door before the sound of locks sliding before the door was pulled open. Dark haired man who looked like he could use some sleep opened it and Mavis gave him a bright smile.
“Uh hello, is this the residence of uhm..”
She looked down at the piece of paper to squint behind her glasses as she tried her best to read the messy handwriting.
“Daniel Cain! Sorry kinda of forgot the name.” Mavis chirped.
Daniel rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he looked at his cheery girl who stood on his doorstep in the late hours or the night. There was something oddly familiar about her that he couldn't place exactly and it was a bit uncanny to say the least.
“Yes and you are?” He asked as he leaned against the door.
“Oh sorry, my name is Mavis West. I'm looking for Herbert West.” Mavis waved off before she made a small nonverbal motion for her to come in.
Daniel obliged and let the wavy haired girl bounce on in as she took in the space of his in. He was kind of glad that Megan wasn't there at the moment, it would have been too much chaos after what happened with Rufus.
“Are you two…” He asked.
His question had Mavis letting out a bark of laughter before she frantically shook her head at the man.
“No, No, I'm his twin. I'm surprised he probably never mentioned it but then again it is Herbert so I'm also not really surprised. Is he here?” Mavis asked between her light giggles.
She had swiveled on her old beat up converse all stars as she looked at Dan. She could see the mild skeptical look in his eyes. It was something she was used to when it came to dropping that on people. Not everyone believes the two were of the same womb but in fact they very much were.
Daniel took a moment before he nodded his head and brushed a hand through his hair. He made a idly motion to the basement door, something he wasn't too keen on going towards at this hour of the night. He was still processing everything.
“Yeah, he's downstairs. Whoa you are just gonna go down there?” Daniel asked as he watched her quickly take the motion to be where her twin was.
She was definitely brave, he'd give her that. He wasn't sure if she even knew. Daniel was sure she didn't with the way her strides carried her like there was nothing wrong.
“Uh, yeah. He's my brother, I spent nine months in confinement with that weirdo. Whatever little lab experiments he's up to I can handle.” The young woman waved off to him.
Mavis carried herself in pride as she strode to the basement door before she felt a strong hand on her bicep slightly pulling her back. Her hazel eyes met Daniel's dark ones as they stared at each other. She could see how Daniel was trying to figure something to say to her.
“Wait wait, you should probably know something before you go down there…” Daniel cautiously said.
Mavis didn't get a chance to respond before the sound of the basement door opening and the sound of footsteps followed. Both Daniel and Mavis' heads snapped towards the direction to see Herbert emerging from the basement.
The siblings stared each other down for a moment before a gentle smile came to Mavis lips as she heard her brother speak.
“Mavis?”
“Well speak of the devil, hello dearest brother of mine.” Mavis joker lightly as Daniel let go of her arm.
“I see you've met Dan.” Herbert said as she looked between them.
Herbert’s lips pursed for a minute as he looked between the two. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel about how close Dan was to his sister and in the darkness his eyes squinted a bit in protectiveness.
“That I have. A sweet guy, better not corrupt him. Sorry to cut it short, it is nice to meet you Dan but I do have to talk to my brother alone.” Mavis snorted.
She knew her brother well and knew how he was acting within the shadows. He may not have outwardly shown much emotion most of their life but she knew the little quirks of when he did. Ever so protective of her just like when they were kids.
“Now?” He asked.
“Yes now.”
Herbert had been quick to wave at Daniel, letting the tired med student go back to get some sleep as he and his twin made their way down the stairs. He could just feel there was something she wanted to say to him but didn't get a chance too when he heard her footsteps stop and turned around to look at her.
“So when were you going to tell me you got back from Germany or was that never going to happen.” Mavis asked him as she folded her arms and looked at him.
“I was going to eventually.” Herbert swallowed.
He knew that look in her eyes. It was the same one their mother had when the two of them often snuck off in their teens. A look of worry but also frustration. He felt some remorse, he probably should have told her soon. They were the only family they had left but he had drowned himself into his work.
“It's been six months since you've been back. I sent you a letter and I got one back saying you had left after an accident.” Mavis countered as she let out a huff.
There was hurt in her eyes that he couldn't continuously look at before he went to continue his way down the stairs. Mavis wasn't going to have that, he couldn't worm his way out of this from her.
“Herbert look at me,” Mavis said as she snatched him quickly by his arm, turning him to face her.
“Hey!” He protested but he was quickly cut off.
“What did you do? They said something about being involved with a doctor's murder.” Mavis' voice was low as she looked at him.
There wasn't aggression in her eyes but disappointed muddied by worries in him. But she still looked at him like he was her brother. They were of the same flesh, they were still family even if he had killed someone.
“It wasn't murder, I was giving him life.” Herbert said quietly.
Mavis looked confused but her tight grip on her brother's bicep loosened. She looked at him with a morbid curiosity that brought that strange smile to his face. He knew he had her enraptured by a single sentence.
“What are you on about?” Mavis asked him in a similar hushed tone.
“It's better I show you, Mavs.” Herbert replied.
He pried his arm from her grasp and motioned for her to follow deeper into the heart of the basement.
As their footsteps hit the cement floors Mavis recoiled from the stench of death. She knew it well with her job and it was the sign of decay. She moved around her brother to get a look of the basement. It was small but not super small, it probably only looked as such with the clutter. There were beakers and tubes all around, syringes with remains of a bioluminescent green liquid staining them.
Mavis’ eyes followed around as she pulled a white sheet away from a part of the table before her hazel eyes flickered down and she recoiled a bit. The dead body of a black cat was still on the table, its guts sprawled against matted fur and a soiled sheet beneath it. She instinctively brought her arm up to her face as she dropped the sheet and looked at Herbert.
“What the fuck? Do I even want to ask why you have body parts strewn about?” Mavis' voice was muffled by her arm.
She watched as her brother moved around, the two already falling into a comfortable routine as he stepped to a fridge. She heard the seal of her break as he pulled out a bottle of bright green liquid and what seemed to be animal corpse but she wasn't super sure. Herbert turned around to look at her before the bottle was shoved into her hand.
“Hush, it's important what I need to show you. Hold this.” Herbert told her.
He knew that he could trust her with it, he had always been able to trust her with his research and her vice versa.
“What is it?” Mavis asked.
She looked at the bottle, feeling the cold plastic against her palm as she stared at that flowing liquid that he had shoved into her hands.
“You ask too many questions. But my reanimating reagent.”
The question seemingly confused Mavis to no end, her mind wrapping around it as Herbert had set the corpse of roadkill onto the table. He pulled the adjustable light into place as it shone down onto the creature wrapped in fabric.
“You're what now?” Mavis questioned as she looked at him.
“You heard me. Now fill up the syringe, I would assume your mortician duties have prepared you enough for that.” Herbert snapped back as he met his sister's eyes with that smirk of his before handing her a clean syringe.
Mavis let out a huff and took the syringe from him and looked at the bottle. She shook her head softly before she was taking the top off of the bottle and slipping the tip of the syringe in to draw out the liquid.
“Oh shut up.” She snorted.
She filled the syringe to a certain line before Herbert was stopping her and stood up a bit more straight to talk to her. The way he stood reminded her of a lecture, she almost felt like she was back in a classroom.
“Okay, so this raccoon was killed…” Herbert explained as she peeled the cloth back from the raccoon’s body.
Mavis looked at the raccoon and then back at Herbert before she let out a small laugh.
“That raccoon is a pancake.” Mavis pointed out.
“You are going to keep jabbering or let me explain?” Herbert countered. His hands were placed at his hips like he was reprimanding a talkative student.
Mavis puffed out her cheeks and rolled her eyes making a motion for him to continue his little lecture with some impatience.
“Sorry Herbie Werbie, continue.” She added.
Herbert rolled his eyes at the nickname but didn't make any comment to correct it. It was endearing to him even if he didn't admit it to her.
“You are annoying. But as I was saying, I was killed a couple hours ago. My reagent in layman terms brings the dead back to life.” He explained to her.
Herbert watched her thoughts swirl behind her eyes as she took in what he said to her. He could see the gears working and the small look of disbelief. He saw it in Daniel's eyes the first time too, it just took a simple demonstration and that look of disbelief would change.
“Bullshit.” Mavis whispered.
Herbert could see she was already leaning to believe. They didn't lie to each other, the other would know somehow. He never understood it but he guessed in this case their strange twin sense was working in their favor. Herbert rolled up his sleeves and held out his hand to her.
“Hand me the syringe.”
Mavis handed the syringe over to him after some hesitancy and followed him quickly like his shadow. Her eyes followed in an unbridled curiosity. She watched as her brother's hands combed through the greasy fur of the raccoon as he traced down its spine to the base of its neck.
She watched as Herbert handled it with great care and precision as he slowly pushed the needle into the spine and drained that reagent into the corpse of the raccoon. She watched as the needle left the critter’s neck and her brother set it down. Her eyes watched the syringe as the reagent left residue behind. Her mind twisted and paced with thoughts before she looked back at the raccoon.
Herbert had backed up a bit, Mavis scuffling back with him as the twins watched the corpse of the roadkill. The room felt deadly silent besides their anticipating breathing as they watched. Herbert made a quick look of his watch, pushing his glasses up his nose before ear piercing screech of agony ripped from the raccoon.
Mavis cringed at the sound and she felt her heart ache as she heard that sound from the animal. It sounded like it was in so much pain but then again the beginning of life was painful too.
“Oh my god. How?” Mavis said over the screeching of the roadkill as it writhed on the table.
“A lot of time and effort but I have found a cure for death.” Herbert said with that almost manic grin as he looked at her.
Mavis was dumbfounded. Her head was running so quickly she couldn't stop herself from the next comment that left her lips.
“You're playing god.” She told him.
“I am not! I'm a scientist and I have found a cure for death.” Herbert snapped. He watched as Mavis flinched a little bit before he took in a deep breath as he knew she need some time to figure out what she was seeing.
“Herbert look at that fucking thing. It's writhing in agony!” Mavis pointed out to him in a frantic tone.
Herbert knew his sister well enough; the whole death fascinated her; she also cared about the living. He was not one to torture his own sister even if he was ever forced too. Herbert let out a huff and walked over to the table of the writhing reanimated raccoon. His hands wrapped around the base of the neck before a loud crack echoed in the room and the creature fell silent. All he heard was the shaky breath of his sister as he covered the body up again.
“It's not perfect, Mavis. I'm still working on it. Figure out the limits but I have conquered death.” Hebert told her.
The silence that had settled between them after as she sat down in a stool next to him was enough for him to speak to her. He had been watching all her little ticks and movements as she worked through her thoughts.
“I know that curiosity in your eyes, sister. You couldn't hide it if you tried.” Herbert added with an easy tone.
Mavis looked up at him and gave a small nod. He wasn't wrong, that was for sure.
“I mean, yeah, fuck I guess I am. I'm fascinated by this.” She told him.
Mavis just looked at her brother as she admitted to him. She wasn't so sure how to feel about the fact this on it's own had so many moral implications but the fact she also wanted to see it work on a broader scale and Herbert could feel that, he just knew.
“I knew you'd be. We've shared the same fascination for years.” He said with a small laugh. A silence filled the basement space again before Mavis spoke up this time.
“Have you started human trials?” She asked him.
“No, I would like to.”
His answer was what she expected. She figured that he hadn't started human trials just yet, it still meant she could help.
“I want to help.” Mavis told him with a hopeful look.
The look threw Herbert off a little bit. He had wrapped Daniel up into this with manipulation but here his own sister was willing to help. It was always nice to have the reminder they were somewhat similar in terms.
“You don't think I'm insane?” Herbert asked.
Mavis looked at him with a pointed look when those words left his mouth before she replied.
“You want my honest answer on that one?”
“Actually, nevermind.”
“It's what I thought.”
After the demonstration and helping clean up the small space, the twins found themselves outside on the porch sitting next to each other. The night was cool with a breeze and Herbert had to admit some fresh air was better than constantly smelling rot and decay down in that basement.
“I want you to know I'm going to be around more.” Mavis spoke.
Herbert looked at his sister as she looked at him. He was a bit taken off guard by those words. He knew she had made a life for herself back up in the Pacific Northwest and couldn't have seen her giving that up to help him with this.
“Huh?” He said in a confused tone.
“I transferred. I'm gonna finish the rest of my schooling out here then out in Washington.” Mavis clarified to him with a smile on her face. She could see that he was thinking about what she had said.
“Why? You've got your own life up there.”
Mavis waved him off and pulled him into a side hug before ruffling his hair as she spoke to him.
“You're my brother, Herbert. Someone's gonna make sure you don't go all Victor Frankenstein on us.” She joked to him.
Herbert rolled his eyes from both the gesture and the comparison as she tried to squirm out of his sister's grasp who just tightened it to put him in a playful headlock with a laugh.
“Oh don't start.” He groaned.
“Oh I'm going to, Dr. Frankenstein.” Mavis teased as she messed up his hair before letting him go. As she let him go her shoulder gently knocked into his in a form of affection.
“I hate you.” Herbert said as he returned the gesture with a smile on his face.
“I love you too.”
4 notes · View notes