#wood engraved initials | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kitten4sannie · 1 year

Text

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝕭𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖘

part 1

Incubus! San x Fem! Reader x Boyfriend! Wooyoung

Genre: never-ending smut 🖤

Summary: All you wanted to do was go to bed so that you could have a nice Christmas morning with your boyfriend the following day. Unfortunately, you would have a late night visitor, and it wasn’t Santa Claus delivering presents.

W.C: 7.8k

Warnings: *possibly triggering content* mind control/manipulation, some initial resistance, dom! san, sub! reader, sub! wooyoung, mxm, brief (non sexy) choking, sacrilegious vibes, use of a crucifix (i said what i said 👀), use of a collar/leash, jealousy, pet names, name calling, degradation, praise, dirty talk, humiliation, manhandling, spit play, mutual masterbation, mutual cuckholding, oral (giving), cum swapping, wax play, nipple play, thigh riding, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, size kink, bulge kink, brief blood play, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N: 🚂 choo choo🚂 next stop: smut city ✨ also shoutout to @cherryxsang for giving me the wonderful idea to make it christmas-themed, as well as the idea to include a collar and leash 🫶🏼 thank you, bestie!! merry xxx-mas, everyone! and i hope you all enjoy this naughty christmas present 🖤🖤🖤

Song Recs: none this time 😭 listen i was very tempted to just put carol of the bells as a joke but i had to restrain myself 😔✊🏼

Masterlist

➽───────────────❥

“Remind me why all you bought for your friend’s dog was a collar and leash?” you questioned, inspecting said gift and setting it down neatly inside the empty gift box on your lap.

Wooyoung, who was standing by the Christmas tree and admiring the way the twinkling lights routinely switched off from red and blue to an eye-catching shade of gold, craned his neck back to look at you with a scowl. “First of all, it was on sale.”

You bit back a laugh, amused with your boyfriend’s immediate attitude, quietly closing the box and taping down the sides.

“And, second of all,” he began, taking a few steps over to the couch and plopping down onto it, leaning his body against yours. “My friend had put it on his wishlist, so there.”

Slapping a pretty red bow on the top of the plain box and calling it a day, you gave Wooyoung a small nudge with your elbow. “But, you could’ve gotten it custom-done at least, you know? Get their dog’s name engraved into it or something. Just getting a basic one seems a bit lazy to me.”

Once Wooyoung grabbed the present from your hands and tossed it down onto the floor near the tree, he took a hold of your shoulders. “ ‘Seems a bit lazy to me,’ ” he said mockingly, as he eased you down onto the couch cushion below, climbing over you and leaning down near your face. “You better be careful before I put that collar on you myself.”

“Mm…” You reached your arms out to wrap around his neck and bring him in closer. “But you better be careful before I pull the lights off of the tree and wrap them around your cock so you can’t cum until I say so.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked softly, pressing his lips into the side of your jaw, slowly moving down to pepper kisses along the curve of your neck.

“Don’t tempt me, Woo. I’ll tie you up right now.” You held him close, moaning a bit when you felt him grow hard against your lower abdomen, immediately taking the opportunity to reach down and grip him through his boxers. “You’re so hard for me already…”

“It’s your fault, Y/N. Take some responsibility,” Wooyoung returned in a low voice, his fingers slipping into the neckline of your tank top and yanking it down so that your tits popped out of it. Hearing your gasp fueled him to suck one of them into his mouth and roll his tongue around it.

“Fuck…keep going…”

Wooyoung obliged, only stopping when you both heard the unmistakable sound of an ornament falling off of the tree and hitting the wood floor with a crunch. He sat up, watching as another, more sturdy one, dropped off of the branch it was on and rolled across the floor towards the couch where the two of you were tangled up.

“What the fuck…” you mumbled, exchanging glances with Wooyoung, before sitting up when he got off of you and went to grab the broom and dustpan.

Wooyoung came back and swept up the broken pieces of the ornament, chuckling at your frightened reaction. “I’m sure it was just some air blowing or something.”

“From where?” You pulled your top back up and scanned the corner of the living room near the tree, a strangely unsettling feeling developing in the pit of your stomach.

“From the heater, you know.” Wooyoung tossed the remaining fragments into the trash and came back to put the other bulb back onto the tree, making sure it was stable.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense…” You stood up and rubbed your forearm, wondering why you felt so uncomfortable in that moment, like another pair of eyes were on you.

Wooyoung took notice of this and pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Don’t be so scared, baby. I’m here…”

“Mm…okay,” you nodded, feeling a little better now that you were in Wooyoung’s warm embrace.

“We should probably get to bed…It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Giving you a soft smile, Wooyoung slung an arm around your shoulders and guided you up the stairs into your bedroom.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the both of you, a shadowy figure emerged from behind the tree. The demon’s tattooed fingers clasped around the bulb Wooyoung had returned to the branch. He leaned in to look at his devilish reflection in it, a deep-sounding chuckle erupting from his throat.

“Rest while you can, you two…before all the fun begins.”

Waking up in a cold sweat, you swallowed dryly and looked over at your alarm clock, your eyes slowly focusing on the bright red numbers: 3:01 am. Groaning, you sat up and pushed yourself out of bed, figuring that you might as well get some water to satiate your parched throat.

Once downstairs, you shuffled into the kitchen and filled up a glass of water, chugging it down as soon as possible. “Ahh…” you sighed, wiping your mouth and setting down the empty cup inside the sink.

Hearing the unmistakable sound of another bulb falling to the ground nearby, you gripped the edge of your nonexistent sleep shorts and gingerly made your way over to the living room. Once you rounded the corner and noticed a dark figure near the Christmas tree, you mumbled, “Santa…?” You desperately hoped that you were right, despite the odds being stacked heavily against you.

The demon that you had crossed paths with only months ago was standing there, in all his naked glory, poking at another glittery bulb like an amused cat. “Did you mean San, sweetheart?” he questioned in a velvety voice, his striking cherry-red eyes locking with your wide ones.

“No! You are not ruining Christmas for me!” you cried, quickly making your way over to the ledge above the fireplace and picking up the crucifix that you and Wooyoung had purchased a while ago.

San scoffed, taking a few quick steps in your direction, his length swaying a bit between his thighs. “That’s rude. Ruin is a pretty strong word.”

Once the demon got too close for comfort, you held up the crucifix in front of you and gritted your teeth. “S-stay back!”

San took a step back and held his arms up defensively, an unexpected look of fear taking over his usually confident appearance. “Fuck, put that shit away!”

Gaining a bit of courage, you pushed towards him, stating, “I’ll put it away when you get the hell out of here!” You held the crucifix closer to his arms, hearing him hiss as if it was burning him.

Once you got incredibly close to him, San looked at you, his fear melting away into an eerily neutral expression. He lowered his hands and stood up straight, leaning his head back so that he could burst out in a self-satisfied fit of laughter. “You really thought you were doing something there! Holy shit, that’s gold.”

“Huh…?” You looked up at the demon in shock, slowly starting to realize that you never had any control in the situation.

Towering over you, San reached down to run a warm finger along your jawline, giving you a grin, his shiny white fangs glinting with the aid of the few burning candles that were sitting atop the ledge. “You know all that stuff is fake, right?”

“But…” You pouted, your arm slowly lowering to your side in defeat, wondering why every form of media had lied about how to get rid of unwanted demonic spirits.

San placed a hand against his lower abdomen, unable to keep himself from letting out another laugh, this one more arrogant sounding than the last. “You humans really just believe anything you’re told, huh? How pathetic.” He cracked his knuckles and moved his neck around, loosening the tension. “Now, come here, darling.”

“No!” you argued, taking a few small steps backwards.

Before you could defend yourself, the eager demon grabbed a hold of your neck and brought you down onto the floor, pinning you down with ease.

He chuckled, taking the crucifix from your hand and studying the fake jewels adorning the gold ridges around the top of it. “Humans were blessed with free will and yet some of them actively choose to deny themselves pleasure. What purpose does that serve? Especially when there’s so much debauchery to be a part of?”

You weren’t really paying attention to his words, too busy trying to pull his fingers away from your neck and hitting them with your closed fist when you couldn’t peel any of them off.

“Are you listening to me, sweetheart?” He leaned in towards your face to appreciate the anger etched into your features, his toothy, cheshire-like grin initially pissing you off a bit more than it turned you on.

Acting without thinking, you pursed your lips and sent a wad of spit in his direction, watching it land on his cheek and drip down along his sharp jaw.

“Oh, you’ve done it now,” he muttered, a deep growl reverberating from his ink-covered throat. He dropped the crucifix onto the floor with a low, resounding clang so that he could reach over and grab the nearest present, ripping it open and taking out the collar. “You want to act like a disobedient pet, huh? You don’t want to be good for me?”

Once he loosened his grip on you, you could finally take in a steady breath, but were unable to wiggle yourself out from under him, his body weight keeping you pinned to the floor. “I’m not your pet!”

San shook his head, his shaggy black hair swaying slightly along with his movements. “Stupid girl.” Undoing the strap of the leash, he reached down and put it on you, making sure it was tight enough to push into your skin, but not enough to fully choke you. “You say you’re not my pet, but yet here you are, wearing a collar, with your pretty little cunt soaked for me like a bitch in heat.”

San sure had a way with words, you would have to admit. Were you actually into this as much as he was?

Judging by the way your body was already screaming for the demon to touch you, the signs were pointing to a definite yes.

“Get this fucking thing off of me,” you protested half-heartedly, encouraging him to tug on the edge of the leash near the collar itself and force you to look up into his spellbinding irises, keeping you still with his inhuman strength.

“Now why would I do something like that? I’m having so much fun. Aren’t you having fun?”

“No,” you lied through your teeth, secretly wishing that he would shove his tongue inside your mouth so that you could experience the aphrodisiac-like effects of his saliva.

“You will soon, darling.” He leaned in close, his forked tongue slipping out past his lips to run along your jaw, tasting you. It burned your skin like last time, but you couldn’t deny that it felt incredibly good this time around.

He let go of your collar, your head lowering back down onto the cool floor beneath you. “But, why now?”

Almost annoyed, San answered matter-of-factly, “I wanted to give myself a nice present this year. So I decided I would spend another night with you and your boyfriend.” Seeing the way you were starting to look at him with less malice and more interest, he purred lovingly, “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you the most, my pretty little toy.”

Swallowing harshly, you relaxed your previously tense body, opening your mouth without his explicit order to do so. “Aah…”

San grew incredibly hard from this, not wasting a single second to grab your jaw and keep it open, his face now inches away from yours. “Oh, I see. You’ll only be obedient if you’re feeling good, hmm? You want your body to feel so hot…” he began, running a thumb over your bottom lip, “…so sensitive, that you can’t even think straight?”

With your heart pounding away in your chest, you nodded slightly, your squished cheeks feeling warm to the touch. “Uh-huh…”

San’s pupils formed into small slits, just as he slipped his tongue past your parted lips, using it to coil around yours, his abundant saliva filling your mouth. He broke the kiss once you swallowed it down, your own pupils resembling saucers once you had.

“Good girl.” The demon climbed off of you and picked up the crucifix, licking his lips. “Now, since you weren’t listening to me earlier, I’m going to have to demonstrate just how passionate I am about sin.”

You sat up and looked at him curiously, not entirely sure where he was going with this. Regardless, you were ready for anything, the arousal surging throughout your body causing your lower half to ache almost painfully in anticipation.

San flipped the crucifix upside down, pursing his lips and letting some spit drip down the thick, long rod. “Go on and get yourself comfortable, sweetheart.”

You slid yourself over to the cold brick wall of the fireplace and pressed your back against it. Biting into your bottom lip, you gingerly spread your legs apart, your tiny shorts giving San an eyeful of your bare cunt, your wetness already dripping down onto the floor from the fast-acting effects of his saliva.

“Mm, look at you. All nice and wet for me, just like I knew you’d be.” He moved in your direction, settling next to you and lowering his hand down so that he could rub the polished end of the crucifix up and down your pussy, just barely teasing your hole with it.

“Shit…” you whispered, jolting abruptly when the tip of it rubbed into your sensitive clit.

“Hey, do you think God is watching us right now? Or a few nosy angels?” Different sounding voices, some deeper and some higher, came out as San spoke, the other beings channeling him making an early appearance. “You think they’re aroused? Or disgusted? Maybe both? Fuck, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“San…” You whined a bit, equally disturbed and turned on by his preferred kink, almost unable to believe that you were so eager to be involved in such perversion, especially with your boyfriend still sleeping peacefully just a floor above you. Did it count as cheating if you were messing around with a supernatural being? Who knows.

“What’s wrong, love? You want it inside already, don’t you?” He chuckled into your ear, his tongue sliding out to lick along the shell of it, angling his hand down slightly and pushing the cold metal rod up into your entrance as deep as it would go. “Take it all for me…”

You responded with a sharp inhale, leaning your head back into the brick behind you, your eyes shifting to look into the demon’s glowing ones when he had begun to move it in and out of you. The rod was surprisingly thick and heavy, making you feel pleasantly full inside. “Oh my god…!”

When he witnessed the ‘o’ shape your mouth made and the moans that began to slip out, he mirrored it, his cock throbbing at the sight of the intrepid lust that had seemed to completely take over you. “Yeah? You like having a cross inside your cunt, baby? It feels good, huh? Does it make you want to worship God or me?”

“You, San…If you make me cum, I’ll worship you in any way you want…” You reached down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, moving it in a faster motion when you felt like he wasn't pleasuring you to the extent you truly needed.

“Fuuuck, you’re such a dirty little slut,” he groaned, gripping the edge of the cross and shoving it in and out of you, using his free hand to rub your clit in circles.

You couldn’t help but reach your arms out past San’s broad shoulders, your fingertips clutching his muscular back for support. “Don’t stop…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Looking at you like you were his next meal, he slowly dragged his heavy tongue up the side of your flushed cheek, emitting a small ‘aah’ sound.

“Sounds…good…” you exhaled shakily, shivering from the tingling sensation on your skin where he left his saliva.

San continued to fuck you with the cross, his fingers moving rapidly across your clit, making sure to speed up his movements when your arousal began to squirt out of you and drip down the rod onto his hand. “Oh, baby, look at you…It feels so good, you’re already squirting for me?”

“Yesyesyesyes…Fuck, San…!” A ragged, desperate cry erupted from your throat, your nails dragging down the demon’s back and giving him fresh cuts, much to his delight.

After you came back down from your intense high, you didn’t feel fully satisfied and a little tired like you usually did with Wooyoung. Instead, you felt invigorated, your body almost vibrating at the thought of going another round with the demon sitting beside you.

“You’re drooling, my love,” he mused, wiping some of your spit away with the pad of his thumb and swiping at it with the very tip of his tongue. When you just sat there with your lips still parted and your eyes just as dilated as before, San felt the need to inform you of some new information. “Also, we seem to have a guest.”

You hadn’t noticed in the slightest, but Wooyoung had gotten up to investigate when he heard the muffled sounds of your blatant ecstasy coming from downstairs. He had just barely made it into the living room, standing incredibly still near the wall, not prepared to deal with this situation in the slightest.

“Woo!” you said excitedly, about to get up when San grabbed your chin and coaxed it open.

“Don’t swallow this time, okay? I want you to hold it in your mouth and let your cute little boyfriend have a taste.” As soon as he spoke, long strings of saliva began to drip down from his tongue down onto yours, causing you to moan in approval. Once San was done, he tugged a bit on the leash and gave you an eerie smile, whispering near your ear, “Go get ‘em.”

Once San let go of the leash, you sprung up onto your feet and sprinted towards Wooyoung, causing him to back up into the wall and hold his hands up defensively. “Oh, god, baby, no! Just stay right there! Don’t–”

Cutting your boyfriend off when your body collided with his, you didn’t waste any time forcing his jaw open and holding his face still. “Come on, have a taste...” You eased your combined spit into his mouth, your chest pressing against his bare one.

“M-mmn,” he mumbled, his knees almost buckling from the way your tongue lapped languidly at his. His cock instantly began to strain against the confines of his boxers from the relentless waves of arousal that were rushing through him. You opened your eyes slightly, wanting to see his next reaction.

Wooyoung groaned against your lips when your hand tugged his boxers down and off of his body, your fingers wrapping around the base of his cock.

Breaking the kiss, but staying in close proximity to his face, you purred, “God, you’re so hard and I’ve barely touched you, Woo.”

“You act like this doesn’t happen every time…”

Delighted by his response, you bit his bottom lip and gently tugged at it with your teeth, earning a moan from him. “Mmm, your cock won’t stop throbbing either.” You began eagerly pumping your hand and drinking in the sight of your boyfriend’s flushed face and drawn eyebrows.

“I…ahhh…can’t help it…”

In the middle of all this, San had made himself comfortable on the couch, watching you both in silence, not even bothered that his untouched length kept twitching periodically.

Wanting to make you feel just as good, Wooyoung slid his own hand past your shorts and rubbed two fingers into your sensitive clit, asking, when he heard you moan, “Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?”

“Really good…”

“You want my fingers inside you?”

“Please, Woo…”

Wooyoung let out a soft chuckle, dropping your shorts to the floor and sliding two digits into you so that he could eagerly shove them in and out, already knowing how to find your g-spot right away.

“Oh, fuck…Right there…!”

“I hear you, baby. I’ll take care of you.” Wooyoung’s tongue poked out of his mouth to wet his lips, grunting as he sped up his movements, encouraging you to do the same with him.

With your foreheads pressed together and hastily breathing in the same air, your eyes locked on one another’s, neither of you wanting to focus on anything else except for each other at that moment.

“Baby, I’m gonna…” Wooyoung announced, just barely loud enough for you to hear, his fingers curling a bit more inside your slick hole, leading you to feel like you were about to cum as well.

“Me too…I–…fuck…” Just as you felt the intensely warm build up inside you begin to overwhelm your senses, you slotted your lips onto Wooyoung’s, the both of you moaning into each other’s open mouths as you reached the height of your shared pleasure.

With his chest heaving, Wooyoung pulled his wet digits out and broke the kiss so that he could push them onto your tongue, letting you savor what had just poured out of you. “Does my baby like tasting herself?” he asked breathlessly, finding it incredibly arousing how you were sucking on his fingers and nodding your head in such an adamant way.

San brought a fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat loudly. “I hate to interrupt something this hot, but I think it’s about time you both got your asses over here.”

You and Wooyoung exchanged glances, almost forgetting about the supposed high-tension situation you were in. “Sorry,” was all you could come up with, unconsciously pulling at the tight collar San had put on you, waiting with baited breath to see how he would respond.

“You’re lucky I’m in the Christmas spirit.” San spread his legs open and pointed downward with one tattooed finger. “I want you both on your knees in front of me. Now.”

Without any hesitation, you both scrambled to the floor before San, sitting on your knees and looking up at him expectantly, completely at his mercy. The demon’s eyes glowed temporarily, the tip of his spiked tail flicking around in the air. “So obedient.”

You couldn’t even register San’s praise, too distracted by his stiff cock, the tip of it red, angry, and dripping with clear liquid. You swallowed your spit, but you couldn’t prevent a bit of drool from leaking out past your lips.

Noticing how hungry you looked, San took a hold of the leash in one hand and pulled it, yanking you closer to him so that you came face to face with his weapon of choice. “Mm, you haven’t gotten the chance to suck my cock yet, huh? I can see why you’re so eager.”

Wooyoung scooted closer to you, the side of his body pressing into yours, his fingers finding their way to your pussy and idly rubbing it up and down. “Go on, baby…”

Just as you lunged forward to devour San, he grabbed you by the chin and held it still. “Here’s your present,” he informed sweetly, slapping his heavy cock across your face and rubbing the tip of it over your lips, allowing you to taste his slightly salty pre-cum.

Despite being a little dizzy from the impact, you felt a major spike of pleasure shoot through you from this particular display of dominance, as well as from the way Wooyoung’s fingers kept gliding over your dripping cunt.

“Now, suck,” San ordered, pressing his cockhead to your mouth.

You took the initiative, dragging your tongue from the tip down to the base and sucking the side of it, cupping his balls in your warm palm and gently massaging them. “Mmm…”

“Gooood girl.” San slid down slightly against the plush couch behind him, moving a few strands of loose hair out of your face and behind your ear.

You teased him for an unspecified amount of time, until you suddenly felt the intense urge to feel him inside your mouth. When Wooyoung slipped a finger inside your cunt, you leaned in and allowed San’s length into your throat, your mouth stretching around it, diligently sucking him off for a while and using one hand to reach the rest of it.

Feeling like he would cum too soon, San groaned out, running his fingers through your hair. “Slow down, darling…slow down…” When you didn’t listen, he gripped the leash and tugged in the opposite direction. “I forgot how much of a greedy whore you are,” he mused, yanking you backwards off of his cock with a lewd ‘pop’, choking you temporarily.

You whimpered, leaning against one of San’s spread thighs, whining, “But, I wanted to make you cum.”

“You need to share. Look at your poor little boyfriend. Look at his face.”

You rubbed your throat just underneath the leather material so that you could soothe the irritated skin, looking over at Wooyoung who was drooling as well, his eyes focused solely on the demon’s curved length.

“Think he can handle this?” San asked you, prompting you to shrug your shoulders.

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

Retracting his hand from you, Wooyoung took major offense to your reaction and huffed, wrapping one hand around San’s cock, pumping it lightly. “I’ll show you. I’ll show you both.”

Wooyoung took in a fair amount of San’s cock, the sides of his mouth stinging from the sheer girth of it, but pressing on and bobbing his head. “M-mmm…”

“Fuck, that’s a good boy…” the demon sighed, watching him for a while until he suddenly gripped the back of Wooyoung’s head and fucked his mouth somewhat quickly, too consumed with lust to care if he was able to breathe or not. “Mm, take it, baby…”

Wooyoung took it the best he could, gagging profusely, with tears falling from his cloudy eyes. Due to never experiencing something so pleasurable before, his cock began dripping a large amount of pre-cum until he eventually came untouched, his load shooting out onto his chest. “Mmmnn…!”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing inside your ribcage, never realizing how incredibly turned on you could feel just from witnessing someone face-fucking your boyfriend in front of you. You couldn’t even be jealous. At least, not yet, anyways.

“Who knew your boyfriend was such a cockslut?” San exhaled in your direction, his dark eyes focusing solely on yours, even when he stopped thrusting and held Wooyoung still, his cock deep inside his throat. Hearing the young man gagging noisily around him, he groaned in ecstasy. “Hey, darling, you want to taste my cum too, don’t you?”

“Yes, please…” you whined softly, prompting San to yank Wooyoung off him, causing thick strings of saliva to leave his mouth and drip down his chin.

San slid his fingers around the back of your neck and held you in place on one side of his cockhead, grabbing the back of Wooyoung’s head, so that his mouth was positioned on the other side. “Let me see how bad you both want it…”

Exchanging a lustful gaze with Wooyoung, the two of you slurped on the tip, your lips and tongues occasionally meeting in the middle until San let out a loud strangled cry of pleasure. He pushed Wooyoung’s face away for a moment, wanting to see his favorite toy painted with his seed.

“Here you go, baby…” San gripped the back of your head with both hands and held you still, his load gushing out in long spurts, most of it landing on your face. You made sure to catch some of his cum inside your open mouth, about to swallow it, but stopping when you heard San whisper, “Share it with him…”

Obeying his request, you pulled your boyfriend into a sloppy kiss, his fingers interlocking with yours as you both swapped the milky liquid back and forth, the both of you moaning periodically.

Wooyoung pulled away so that he could wipe off the remaining cum from your face, then held his coated fingers up in between your mouths, allowing you both to lick and suck them clean.

If San had a soul, it would’ve left his body by now. Thankfully, he didn’t, so he was still good to go. However, he couldn’t help but feel a little bothered. There was so much pleasure to take part in, but so little time. He would have to make the most of it, knowing that he couldn’t truly use the two of you to the extent that he wanted, or else he risked the chance of completely draining your life sources.

Letting the two of you recover from the overload of endorphins that were plaguing your minds, San pointed to the ledge above the fireplace, ordering, “Grab one of those candles and bring it over here. Then, the both of you can make yourselves comfortable on my lap.”

Before you could move, Wooyoung had already jumped up and grabbed one of the melting candles, bringing it over to San and propping himself up on one of the demon’s large, muscular thighs. You got up and sat down on San’s opposite thigh, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

The demon took the candle from your boyfriend and tilted it sideways, dripping some of the hot liquid along Wooyoung’s collarbones, as well as down his chest. “You like that?”

Wooyoung gasped in response, nodding his head, his cock growing hard once again from the pleasantly warm feeling of hot liquid running down his melanin skin.

“How about this?” San questioned in a low voice, holding the candle closer to Wooyoung’s chest so that some of the candle wax poured down over one of his nipples, making sure to do the same to the other one.

“Feels…so good…” Wooyoung arched his back, reaching up the play with one of his sensitive buds, squeezing it and pulling at it. “Play with me too, San…”

San ran his thumb over Wooyoung’s other pert bud, rolling it around in tight, small circles. “Such a mindless little whore.” He carefully set the candle down on the couch so that he could grip one of Wooyoung’s hips, bringing his mouth down near his chest so that he could lap at one of his buds with his forked tongue.

This, of course, drove your boyfriend crazy, leading him to begin mewling and grinding his cock into him. “It’s so good…so good…” he repeated, shuddering from how the demon’s drool began to drip down along his body.

“I bet, baby,” San returned in a raspy voice, completely entranced by how needy he was being, pulling Wooyoung’s body against his own, who whined almost immediately.

“I’m gonna cum again…” Wooyoung moaned, his brown eyes blown out with desire, slowly rubbing his bare chest onto the demon’s muscular one, unable to handle how sensitive his body was feeling.

“Uh-uh, you can’t be cumming so soon. At least, not until I’ve made your girlfriend squirt again.”

You let out a small whimper, leaning your head into the crook of San’s neck, feeling ignored but not voicing it. You felt his hand move up your lower back and caress it, but he didn’t pay attention to you quite yet.

“Want it on your cock?” Amused by Wooyoung’s eager nodding, San lowered the candle and slowly poured the warm liquid in a line across the young man’s throbbing erection.

“Fuuuck, San…!” Feeling the candle wax drip down the sides of his length, Wooyoung whined louder and continued rubbing himself into San’s lower abdomen in an unapologetic way until he cried out in ecstasy, cumming once again.

“Didn’t I just tell you not to cum? So selfish…” San muttered under his breath, his fingers gripping into the sides of the candle, glaring daggers at Wooyoung, who was too busy milking the last few drops of cum from his softening length. “Darling, pull some of the lights off of the tree for me, will you? And wrap them around this disobedient whore’s cock while you’re at it.”

Hearing San finally address you directly, you pulled yourself up from the couch and headed over to the tree, following his directions.

Wooyoung gulped nervously, before gasping when San suddenly shoved him to the ground below him. San then set the candle down onto the floor, his lips forming a lewd smile. “Guess what? You’re going to sit there and watch me pleasure your girlfriend for the rest of the night. I’ll make sure to take care of her in ways that you can’t. Does that sound good?”

“Very.” Wooyoung returned the smile and sat on his knees, shivering a bit when you began to wrap the Christmas lights around his body, binding his arms behind his back and making sure to coil the wire around his already stiffening cock. He looked up at you and frowned. “Hey, I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hog all of the attention earlier…”

“It’s okay, Woo, but it’s my turn now,” you returned, running your thumb over the slit of his cockhead just to tease him. “Enjoy the show~”

Wooyoung groaned softly, knowing he most definitely would enjoy every single second of it. It didn’t matter who was touching you, as long as you were feeling good.

“Come here, my love.” San beckoned you with his index finger, leading you to drop the rest of the lights so that you could lower yourself into his lap and straddle one of his thighs. Seeing the pout on your face, he settled his hands on your hips and pulled your body closer, tilting his head to the side. “You didn’t like being ignored, did you?”

“Uh-uh…”

“You want my attention that bad, huh?”

“Yes, please…I need it…” You ran your hands up his chest and wrapped them around his neck, feeling San squeeze his hands into the supple flesh of your hips and begin to grind himself into you.

“My darling little toy…you should’ve told me how desperate you were for my attention earlier,” he murmured into your ear, lifting his thigh up slightly while he continued to drag you along it, allowing it to press harder into your clit, making you moan.

“I didn’t want you to punish me…” You began to breathe somewhat heavily, due to San dragging your lower half back and forth at an even faster rate, your insides feeling like they were on fire.

“I thought you liked it when I punished you.”

“I do, but,” you started, unable to hold back a choked moan from the way San continued to control your body movements, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh and feeling the inner ridges of your hip bones. “I like it more when you’re like this…”

“Like what?”

“Sweet to me…” you replied in a soft voice, a light blush forming on your cheeks.

San didn’t know it was possible for him to feel such a pleasant warmth inside his chest. It almost made him sick, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed such a gentle sensation. “My love…” he whispered, pulling you into a surprisingly heartfelt kiss, still encouraging you to grind on his thigh, eventually driving you over the edge.

You cried out into his mouth, your arousal gushing out onto his lower half and dripping onto the couch cushion below. When he pulled away, you simply gazed into his hypnotic eyes, panting heavily.

“Did that feel good?”

“Mm-hmm…” You pressed yourself up against the demon, your fingers slipping into his raven hair. “Am I your favorite pet to play with?”

“Of course you are, darling.” Bringing one of his hands up to your neck and running a finger over the collar you had on, San asked, “Do you want me to give you a collar that has your name on it? One that I’ll put on you whenever I come by to fuck your brains out?”

You hugged San close to you, nodding your head so quickly, you didn’t even register Wooyoung’s obvious jealousy — but not the kind that you expected.

“That’s not fair,” Wooyoung pouted, his fingers twitching slightly behind his back. “I want one too…”

San looked past your shoulder down at Wooyoung, his once crimson eyes appearing to be completely black at this point. “Sorry, pretty boy. Maybe if you didn’t cum every five seconds, I would consider giving you one too.”

Trying to reclaim San’s focus, you hooked your fingers into the hem of your tank top and lifted it up and over your head, tossing it behind you, not noticing or caring that it landed on your boyfriend’s head. He shook it off, emitting a small whimper, but not exactly bothered by the position he was in.

“I’ll take care of you, my love. I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll never be able to think about anything else, except for me.” San reached for the candle and held it above your breasts, dripping some of it across your soft flesh, using his thumbs to rub the warm candle wax across your nipples.

“Fuck, San…” you gasped, arching your back when he poured a larger amount down the valley of your breasts, feeling it drip down your abdomen and onto your aching sex. “Please, I can’t take it anymore…”

“Yeah?” He blew the candle out and tossed it onto the floor, not caring that it rolled into Wooyoung’s leg, who was trapped between a state of immense pleasure and agony, his cock straining against the wire to the point that the tip of it was an angry shade of red. “Is there something you want, pretty girl?”

Feeling San’s large hands roam up your body and onto your tits so that he could grope and knead them to his heart’s content, you nodded, exhaling, “Your cock.”

“My cock?”

“I need it in me…”

“In your pretty little cunt?”

You blushed, your heart skipping a few beats inside your chest. “In my pretty little cunt…”

“As you wish, darling.” San let out a pleased huff of air, lifting your hips up and pushing the tip of his cock against your entrance, stretching you out so that he could slide you down onto it. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so tight.”

You let out a small cry, your fingernails digging into San’s back, trying to get accustomed to his unusually large size.

Glancing at Wooyoung over your shoulder, San gave the suffering young man a crooked smile. “You must not be hitting it right, huh? Your girlfriend’s tighter than those lights wrapped around your cock.”

Wooyoung bit his bottom lip, feeling humiliated, but still relishing the way San talked down to him, his tethered length twitching slightly as a response. “You should…show me how it’s done…”

San exhaled something in Latin, gripping either side of your ass and plunging himself deep inside you so that he could begin his pursuit of pleasure.

“It’s so big, San…” you moaned out, feeling like you were already descending into madness from the way he was pounding into you at such a brutal speed, the couch creaking so loudly underneath you that the springs could snap at any given moment. “So fucking big, I can barely take it!”

“You’re just tiny…” San squeezed his fingers into your ass and kneaded it, bringing you to let out a whine. “You think you’ll be able to go back to your boyfriend’s cock after this? Or will you be dreaming about mine?”

“I…”

“Look at him and say it,” he chuckled darkly, prompting you to turn your head back and look down at Wooyoung, who was gazing up at you with stars in his eyes.

“I’ll be dreaming about San’s cock the next time you–aah–fuck me, Woo…”

Wooyoung groaned, heavy amounts of pre-cum dripping down the head of his dick and onto the floor below. “I can’t blame you, baby…”

San was only able to take so much satisfaction at once, suddenly holding you down so that he was fully inside you. “Are you ready for me to fill her up with my cum, pretty boy?”

Wooyoung nodded his head, his dick aching so much that his eyes started to water. “Yes, fuck–fill her up for me, San! Please!”

San obliged, holding you completely still as he unloaded into your cunt, the gushing warmth of his cum so pleasurable that you came on the spot.

“I need more, San…” you whispered shakily, encouraging the demon to lift you up and guide your body so that you were facing the other way, your back against his heated chest.

“You read my mind, darling.” He shoved himself back into you, forcing some of the sticky liquid to drip down to the base of his length and pool around his inner thighs. “You’re still so fucking tight…I might actually lose it…”

“Then you better fuck me until I get used to your size,” you exhaled lovingly, reaching a hand back so that you could slip your fingers into his damp hair, leaning your head back as well so that yours was near his.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he whispered gruffly into your ear, his hands running down your lower abdomen and feeling his heavy cock protruding through your skin. “I bet you’d want me to fuck you day in and day out until you break for me.”

Tears formed in your eyes due to the immense stimulation, unable to see Wooyoung clearly anymore from how blurry your vision was becoming. “You can break me as many times as you want, as long as I’m yours,” you replied in a shaky voice, turning your head to face San.

San began to drool from your words, answering confidently, “You were mine the moment I first saw you, darling. Now…let me have a little bite, okay?” He suddenly ripped off your collar and tossed the remains onto the floor, baring his sharpened teeth. He plunged them into your neck without a second of hesitation, biting down and drawing out your coursing blood.

“Drink up…” you moaned weakly, blinking your tears away and gripping the ends of his hair, your lower half pulsing so intensely that you knew you were going to reach your mind-melting high again.

San noisily slurped the hot liquid up into his mouth, moaning and breathing heavily against your skin, his cock throbbing inside you. “Mmmn…’M….going to…cum…”

“Pleasepleaseplease…fill me up…” you chanted, your heart racing inside your chest, not even bothered how San gulped down your precious life source.

The demon suddenly pulled his mouth away and brought you all the way down on his length again, cementing you in place. “Stand up, pretty boy! Now!”

Wooyoung got up onto his feet so quickly he felt dizzy, about to sob from how insanely good it felt when San’s tail whipped down and sliced the wire off of his cock, finally allowing him to cum. “Oh my fucking god, yes!” he shouted out in ecstasy, his load shooting out all over your chest and lower abdomen.

“Here it comes, darling!” Almost simultaneously, San groaned incredibly loud, tossing his head back onto the couch and pumping you full of his seed for the second time, leading you to your own pinnacle of pure bliss, your mind and body feeling almost completely numbed out.

You couldn’t really acknowledge it when San slipped out from underneath you and stood up, your exhausted body simply falling down onto the couch so that you could get some rest. Wooyoung joined you as well, knocking out almost as soon as he landed next to you.

His own brain and body tingling pleasantly around the edges, San reached down to pet both of your heads, sighing softly. “Merry Christmas, my lovely playthings. Take care, until we meet again.”

He walked over to the tree so that he could take one of the bulbs as a souvenir, looking at his satisfied, flushed reflection inside it. “Merry Christmas to me…” And with that, he vanished into thin air.

When noontime rolled around the next day, the both of you slowly sat up and rested against the couch, looking at each other, studying the various marks, chipped candle wax, and dried remnants of cum that littered your aching bodies.

You cleared your sore throat, leaning into Wooyoung and sighing. “So…he was kind of sweet this time around…Is that crazy to say?”

“Not crazy, no.” Wooyoung wrapped his arms securely around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I mean, I got bullied towards the end there, but honestly, I was really into it.”

You let out a soft chuckle, melting into Wooyoung’s embrace. “I could tell.”

“But, honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever felt that good before. I almost lost my mind.”

“Me too,” you nodded, pulling away and leaning back against the couch again, your boyfriend’s arm slipping around your shoulders and hanging off of it. “I’d say it was a night well spent.”

“Agreed.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, simply holding each other and admiring the snow that was falling gently outside the frosted windows of your living room. You sighed to yourself, content with how you were filled up with more than just Christmas spirit, idly running your fingers along the deep bite marks on your neck.

Noticing the Santa hat that was sitting near the top of the couch, Wooyoung grabbed it and put it on your head, giving you a smile. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

You kissed his cheek, a wide smile forming on your face. “More like Merry Dickmas. Get it? Cuz San’s got a huge c–”

“No, I get it,” Wooyoung cut you off, giving you a blank stare, before erupting in a fit of giggles that you joined in on as well, the both of you hugging and falling back down onto the couch to get some more rest. Once you both quieted down, Wooyoung informed, “It’s my turn to get fucked next time though.”

You turned your head to look at him, gently running your fingers along his chest. “Sure, but he might not want to, since I’m his favorite, after all.”

Wooyoung tsked, hugging you closer to him and nuzzling your cheek. “Are you the main character all of a sudden, or what?”

You nuzzled him back, basking in his comforting warmth and giving him a gentle kiss. “Duh.”

➽───────────────❥

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #wooyoung #san #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #san smut #wooyoung x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x y/n #kpop smut #choi san

1K notes · View notes

blackopals-world · 1 year

Text

Unconventional Proposals part 2

Part 1

Yuu x Vice Wardens edition

Twisted Wonderland might have its own courting traditions but Yuu might not be from our world. What if they are the one with strange traditions?

Trey- Anyone Can Cook

This isn't fair. Trey literally has his fic already about his proposal. So I'm cheating and linking it here. Sorry, just saving time.

Ruggie- Engraved

Ever tradition is weird when you think about it. This one was no different. When you like someone you carve them a pendent out of Stone or wood. If they accept and wear it you are bound together.

Yuu picked stone knowing the process would take longer to make. The traditional way was to take a cloth and rub the stone until it was smooth while carving a shape. Like the ocean over rocks.

Ruggie had noticed Yuu work on the totem for months and had asked them if they needed help. Yuu denied.

On the day Yuu presented the carving they was given a pendant in return. Ruggie didn't know about the special meaning but he was inspired by Yuu to make a present for them anyways. It was a wood carving of a hyena. They gladly accepted.

Jade- Whale of a Time

A true warrior knows how to prove their love. Leagues deep in the frozen waters they dive to steal the ocean's bounty, a black fish tooth. To prove yourself it must be presented to your true love.

Yuu is armed with a spear, knife, net, and the determination to subdue a killer fish. They had trained their whole life for the moment they would rip the teeth out of the whale's mouth.

Gleefully they presented the blood-stained tooth to Jade. He was actually very flattered by it. The show of strength was very attractive to him. Eels don't court for long and Yuu's tribe didn't have time for lengthy rituals in their frozen lands. They were a couple instantly.

Jamil- Fine Print

"Your future husband must be clever. His eyes sharp. And his mind clear. When you dance he must see only you." Their mother would say.

Yuu understood what she meant as they watched another young woman dance across the stage. Her skin was painted in beautiful curving patterns, unlike the young man who went before. His skin was painted in sharp zig-zagging formations.

Each design had a special hidden message in them. Usually, it was the initials of their chosen partner hidden deep within. If they spotted it then it would mean that they had eyes only for them because they watch the dancer's every movement to be sure.

Yuu wanted to get their message across though so they painted a long winding serpent from their hand to coiling around their torso to the other leg. Within the serpent was 'J.V' written in gold. If Jamil did see it they'd see it as a win(even if they were cheating a bit)

During Kalim's party they performed the serpent's dance dressing in red silks and the only clue that Jamil noticed was him spitting his drink while they disrobed to begin.

He noticed alright and couldn't decide if he wanted everyone else to notice too. It was such a bold declaration of wanting to be his. How could he say no?

Rook- One Jump Ahead

The jungle was harsh and without mercy. A capable hunter is the most desired partner. One who can spot a jaguar in the trees, and hunt boars without them noticing. One who can provide premium meat and herbs for their marriage banquet.

They must put them to the test. Hunter against prey.

Yuu had their eyes on a particular hunter. Tempting Rook to chase was child's play. Leaving items in his path in a bid to get him to return them worked. Rook caught on quickly as the lost items became calling cards to look for Yuu.

One morning he found a letter on his window with a letter of love.

"𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮.♡"

He needed little convincing as he tracked the elusive Yuu. They were very good a remaining undetected but the trail led to the woods. For an entire day, the game of cat and mouse and Yuu got sloppy. They snapped a twig while climbing and Rook heard. The game had been won and Rook proved to be a superior hunter. And as the loser the rules were set in stone. Yuu would be the prize won.

Lilia- Salt-crusted Dreams

The seers and soothsayers have their ways. Their lives are ruled by stars and visions. That is how Yuu's people have lived since that days man had no answers to the stars and fate. Every day Yuu drew their cards to see what fate had in store, but that day, in particular, was interesting. The lovers were upright, the fool was raising, the star shines brightly, the tower is revered and the hanged man was longer doomed. It spelled good things.

The answer was simple to Yuu. Today was the day. New love was very near and a fated pair will be made. Don't resist and cause strife to oneself, you've already ovoid one disaster so don't make another. The cards can never leave them be with all their ominous warnings even if it's good news.

Yuu knew it was time as they began preparing their family recipe. Whenever a youth wanted to know who their soulmate was a loaf of salty bread was baked. It was to be eaten before sleep. Whoever comes to them in their dreams and offers them water would be their soulmate.

Nothing could prepare the seer for who appeared no matter what they believed. It was Lilia of all beings.

Yuu's family is as close to the fae as they are to the stars. The line was thin between the realms and few walked it.

Donning their robes Yuu approached the bat fae.

"Oh ho? A fortune teller approaches. It must be fate." He gestured Yuu to sit with him.

Yuu nodded and told him it was a matter of fate. They would like to give them a reading.

The reading yielded an expected result. The cards all matched their own. The odds to improbable it could only be fate.

"It seems it was written in the stars."

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi #rook hunt x reader #jade leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #trey clover x reader #jamil viper #trey clover #jade leech

479 notes · View notes

cloudwhisper23 · 4 months

Text

Greg asked him to meet at the Pizzaplex. He acted like it would solve everything. But to Tony, there was no fixing things. There was only the betrayal he'd suffered at the hands of both Ellis and Greg. He'd said yes anyway though. The damage was done, and Tony had learned from his mistake. He could be friends with Greg, but he wouldn't trust him.

Part of him figured it was more Greg than Ellis who had really changed his story. Ellis wasn't dedicated enough to writing to really even care about how the story turned out. He trusted Tony to handle it. Maybe that was part of the reason it stung so much. Ellis hadn't cared that Greg wanted to change things.

Which meant that Greg had more to make up for, and was probably why he was trying to hard to make Tony feel better. But if he really wanted to cheer Tony up, why would he take him to the Pizzaplex again? Bad reminders were not going to help.

Something about it nagged at Tony. The Pizzaplex was GGY's hunting ground, if his suspicions were correct. Entering that territory without the crowds made Tony nervous.

He shoved a pocketknife engraved with his father's initials into his sweatshirt. Just in case. It couldn't hurt, right?

Greg seemed just as nervous as Tony felt when he got to the Pizzaplex. "Hey."

"Hey." Tony nodded to him, fidgeting with the carved wood in his pocket. "What's the plan?"

"Fazerblast." Greg smiled. "You can handle some games, right?"

Tony's mouth twitched, but he said, "Sure. Where's Ellis?"

"Ah, Ellis isn't coming today. I figured we could meet up with my other friends. The more mature ones."

Tony's brow scrunched. He'd had that exact thought before, of Ellis being too immature. But he never voiced it out loud. It wasn't worth the problems it would cause, even if Tony thought it was true. "Do I know any of them?"

"Not really. They like to hang out at Fazerblast."

"You only like it there because Freddy's your favorite," Tony replied as they entered the mall.

Greg scoffed. "I'm not that shallow. Fazerblast is fun. Ellis is the one who has all the fun at the arcade cabinets. I go all over."

"Right." Tony shrugged.

"Hey, come on. We're here to have fun, remember? Loosen up." The scrutiny Greg had given him at school returned.

"Sorry." Tony pointedly didn't look at Greg.

"Tony." Greg grabbed his arm. "Seriously. Are you going to be a buzzkill?"

"Greg." Tony replied flatly. "You ruined my story about the Pizzaplex, and to make up for it, you took me back to the Pizzaplex. Forgive me if I'm a bit upset."

"What do you want to do then?" Greg seemed irritated. What do you want from me? Tony heard instead.

"I don't know."

"So just trust me. You'll have fun, I promise."

Tony didn't respond to that, but he let Greg lead him all the way to Fazerblast.

"Where are your other friends?" Tony asked, but Greg kept moving. "Wait, this isn't-"

"There's a shortcut to skip the line. Trust me."

Tony was getting more and more concerned the more Greg said that. He took them through a creaking door and up a rickety staircase. Tony tentatively put a hand on the railing, peering over. "Greg, we're above Fazerblast."

"Astute observations as always, Tony." Greg tugged his sleeve impatiently. "We're almost there."

Almost where? Greg said they were going to Fazerblast, but they clearly weren't going to play Fazerblast. Instead, they followed the catwalks to a security office. "Gregory-"

"You've gotta trust me, Tony."

No, I really don't. But he still let the other boy lead him through the door. He scanned the room quickly, weary of the fact that someone had clearly been living in the room. The name Vanny was spray-painted on the wall in capital letters. "Who's-"

Something hit him in the back of the head, and Tony curled in a ball. I shouldn't have trusted him, he thought in a daze as he glimpsed the familiar color of Greg's shoes. He also spotted animatronic feet, but the pain ringing in his head reduced his ability to say much on his own.

Scrambling, Tony backed himself up into an arcade cabinet. "Wha-"

"Tony, Tony, Tony." Greg clicked his tongue, forcing Tony's head up to meet his gaze. "You've gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble. You almost gave me away! And we couldn't have that."

"Who..." Tony blinked, trying to restore his vision. "You're GGY."

"Looks like you can still think." GGY chuckled. "Are you ready to have some fun, Tony?"

"Not if it's anything like what you did to the others," Tony gritted out.

He was grateful that Ellis wasn't mature enough to connect the dots, not mature enough to care about the hyper-realistic nature of his story. He was grateful Ellis was complacent where Tony hadn't been. Otherwise, they'd both be stuck in this situation. I'm so sorry, El. Tony thought, gripping his pocketknife tightly.

He knew he'd have to stab Greg to escape, and despite the regret he felt deep in his heart, Tony had never felt more alive.

GGY stepped back, cursing under his breath as Freddy Fazbear growled angrily and hoisted Tony off the ground by his shirt. The pocketknife was warm in Tony's grip, blood dripping off the blade as he gasped for air.

"So much bite, Tony!" GGY wiped the blood off his neck. "But you do have more than one option here, you know. We can be friends forever! But you have to follow the rules." Carefully, he pulled the pocketknife from Tony's hand and tossed it across the room.

"I'd rather die," Tony spat when Freddy dropped him.

GGY shook his head. "I think we can change your mind. Freddy, let's go."

Tony blinked as Freddy's stomach hatch opened. GGY grinned at Tony. "I wonder how well you'll fit."

"Wait, no. Don't do this!" Tony stumbled back as GGY tried to drag him forward for Freddy to lift him up. "Let go of me!"

His cries ceased as GGY hit him, this time knocking him out.

When he woke, his hands were bound behind his back. Wriggling determined that his ankles were tied as well. Tony scowled at the gross, burnt tiles.

Wait a minute. This wasn't the Pizzaplex. How did-

The sound of someone else moving made Tony freeze.

"Well, look who's awake!" GGY peered into Tony's face. "Can you guess where we are?"

"This isn't the Pizzaplex..." Tony mumbled. He didn't want to play this stupid game. GGY grabbed his chin and shook it. Tony yanked his head free and looked closer at his surroundings.

There was a show stage, similar to the one the Glamrocks performed on. Arcades were littered around the room, and one wall housed a kitchen area. "We're... in an abandoned pizzeria?" he guessed.

"Not just any abandoned pizzeria!" GGY replied cheerfully. "My sponsor's old pizzeria. Or, I guess, his son's pizzeria." GGY wrinkled his nose slightly at that. "This is where the magic happens!"

"Magic?" Tony replied doubtfully.

"Once you agree to let him into your head, you won't stress about anything else for the rest of your sorry, miserable life!" GGY tapped the tip of Tony's nose. "He will give us instructions, and using our natural personality, we fulfill the demands to keep things running smoothly. When I saw what you did with that short story, I just knew we had to recruit you!"

"And if I refuse?" Tony glared. "You'll do what? Kill me?"

"Well..." GGY studied Tony's face. "We don't really want to kill you, but if you don't join us, we'll have no choice. Ellis would be a great alternative if you said no, don't you think? He already knows the lore of GGY, after all. Courtesy of your story."

"Stay away from Ellis." Tony jerked at his bonds, angry that he couldn't strangle the life out of GGY right there.

"You're the one who makes the decisions."

"If I join you," Tony muttered angrily, "you stay away from Ellis."

"Naturally. We want you, Tony. All we're doing is giving you incentive." GGY grinned. "So you agree then?"

"I'll do it."

"Great! I'll get everything all set up."

Tony's shoulders sank. He didn't know what this cult wanted from him, but their goals couldn't be good. Not if it included killing people.

#cloud writes #tony becker #fnaf ggy #might do a part two of this #who knows #a continuation of the story GGY from the fnaf books #although it's starting to give me au vibes already #ooooh

85 notes · View notes

jstor · 5 months

Text

With America's Thanksgiving holiday on the horizon, it is crucial to delve deeper into the historical context and dispel the sanitized notions surrounding the colonization of the "New World" by Europeans. While the Europeans considered this land new, it was home to Indigenous peoples for generations, with rich cultures and traditions that often go unacknowledged.

Thanksgiving was established as a national holiday in 1863 by President Lincoln, during a time marred by the deeply divisive Civil War. The intention was to foster a sense of togetherness among the American people. However, the holiday's origins are rooted in notions of peaceful coexistence between European Pilgrims and the Native Americans already residing in the Plymouth region. This narrative, though popularized, is built on flimsy foundations, as it only represents a few decades of relatively minimal conflict between the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag.

Contrary to common belief, the Pilgrims' gratitude for surviving their initial winter was not directed towards the Wampanoag, whom they viewed as instruments of God's will, but rather towards God himself. It is important to acknowledge that while there may have been a period of relative peace, primary sources reveal an underlying sense of white superiority rather than a genuine atmosphere of open cultural exchange.

The initial cooperation and mutual assistance during the early 17th century gave way to a chapter in history characterized by brutal violence and the detrimental impacts of colonization. As European settlers expanded their presence, territorial disputes, cultural clashes, and the introduction of diseases took a devastating toll on Indigenous communities. The narrative of Plymouth Colony's early years must be examined in its entirety, recognizing the complexities and consequences that arose from the subsequent period of colonization.

By delving into these historical details, we can gain a more comprehensive understanding of the complexities surrounding Thanksgiving and its historical context. Learn more in this Open Access book chapter: "Pilgrims and Puritans and the Myth of the Promised Land."

🖼️ : Winslow Homer (American, Boston, Massachusetts 1836–1910 Prouts Neck, Maine), “Thanksgiving Day – The Dinner (from ‘Harper’s Weekly,’ Vol. II).” Wood engraving, November 27, 1858. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

#jstor #research #open access #thanksgiving #indigenous history #american history

144 notes · View notes

uwmspeccoll · 1 month

Text

Typography Tuesday

WHITTINGHAM INITIALS

The Whittinghams, Charles the Elder (1767-1840), who founded the Chiswick Press, and his nephew and successor Charles the Younger (1795–1876), were among the finest English printer/publishers of the 19th century, noted especially for the quality of typographic design and evenness of printing. Their firm was also the chief printer for bookseller/publisher William Pickering, whose own devotion to quality was exemplified in his use of Aldus Manutius's anchor & dolphin printer's mark, combined with the motto Aldi Discipulus Anglus (Aldus's English Disciple).

Many of the distinctive, wood-engraved initials the Whittinghams used were designed by Charles II himself along with his artist daughters Charlotte and Elizabeth, almost all of which were engraved by English book illustrator and wood engraver Mary Byfield (1795-1871). The Whittingham initials shown here are from the 1896 Grolier Club publication, The Charles Whittinghams Printers by Arthur Warren (1860-1924), which itself is printed by one of the finest 19th-century American printers, Theodore Low De Vinne (1828-1914), who printed the book on handmade paper in an edition of 185 copies. Our copy is another gift from our friend Jerry Buff, a Grolier Club member.

View our other Typography Tuesday posts.

108 notes · View notes

lovelettersforthedamned · 6 months

Text

I Lived That Night Too

--genre + trope: angst, hurt/little comfort, nsfw.

--pairing: pattinson!bruce wayne x gf!vigilante!reader

--word count: 1.7k

--summary: after a run in with the joker a few months ago, bruce has been extra protective over you, and you've had enough.

--warnings: graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, mention of a potential SA, angst, mentions of food, bruce and reader are mean to each other, some kisses, very very light fluff.

--gif credits: @bittwitchy

The sun set a few minutes ago, leaving the warm lighting of the overhead lights flooding throughout the corridor. Dinner was almost ready, yet Bruce was still in bed, recovering from his previous night out. Halloween was always tough for Gotham’s masked vigilante, the holiday becoming the motivation for those who dwell in mischief.

The past year has haunted Bruce, even in his unconscious mind. Visions of that night dance across his eyelids.

The night air was humid, the first warm night kicked off the start of the Summer weather. Even though warmer nights were upon those living in Gotham, rain poured heavily. You prepared to go out for the night, making your rounds around the city, making sure the peace was kept. There was no warning, no sign of disturbance in front of you as the front tire of your motorcycle caught on something, flinging you through the air.

It’s not the initial impact of the fall that hurts, it's the pavement under you scraping your skin as you’re dragged by a man, the only feature you can pick up on is his recognizable laugh. He stops under a streetlight, the sudden brightness making your eyes squint, unable to process the figure’s next moves. His silhouette, raising a bat, is the last thing you’re able to see before a flaring pain in your stomach erupts. The pain moves to your side, then to your head, and finally to your hands.

The warm air seemed to heighten the stench of your blood, the metallic smell making you nauseous. The man above you inspects your body, making sure his work is done. A small nod follows his lingering eyes before leaning down to uncurl your, now broken, hand, “Hold this for me, would you?” As he peels back each broken finger, with the last remaining energy you had left, a scream leaves your lips. In your now open hand, he places the same bat he used to harm you carefully in your grasp, positioning it perfectly before walking away.

The gravel beneath his feet crunches as he’s relieving this moment once again. His eyes squint to focus on the sight in front of him, a body lying in the gleam of a streetlight, twitching. As he walks closer, there's a pit in his stomach, he knows that it’s you. There’s not an inch of your body that isn’t covered in a cut drowned in blood. His gaze ran up and down your shriveled figure, finally looking at the bat you’re holding, pieces of wood splintering at the barrel. His eyes lock onto the words that are jaggedly carved into the body of the bat.

BATTER UP.

He freezes at the sight of the engraving, the only movement coming from his eyes, darting back to your beaten face. He feels an unexplainable force weighing him down, he can’t move, and he can hardly breathe. The first person he contacts is Alfred. Back home, Alfred can see everything, due to Bruce’s advanced contact lenses. The older man is also in a state of shock, you were hardly recognizable.

It takes Alfred’s pleas to shake Bruce out of his dissociative state. All Bruce could think of was what his life would look like without you, and how much he feared for your life.

Waking himself up from the same nightmare he’s had for months, he looks around, confirming his surroundings. The light patter of rain hit his window, the sound alone trying to pull him back to sleep. Checking the time on the clock behind him, 7:48 PM, he pulls back the covers and starts to make his way downstairs, quickly pulling a shirt on and grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the dresser.

Descending the stairs, he looks down at the scene in front of him. You’re sitting at the dining table with Alfred, participating in small talk as you eat dinner. A plate is set beside you, waiting for Bruce. His presence isn’t known until Alfred’s voice greets him, and a small peck is placed onto the crown of your head. Looking up at Bruce, you can tell he just woke up, his hair is messy and his eyes are still plagued with drowsiness. Grabbing his hand, you remind him of the plate made for him, a teasing tone poking through your voice, “Are you going to sit down? Or are you just going to keep standing there, my love?”

“I have to go back to work,” he takes a breath, “there’s too much to do, I’m sorry.”

You take this as your queue to follow him, grabbing his plate of food as you rise from your chair. Before you leave Alfred at the table, you exchange a knowing look, you both know that he won’t stop helping those who live in this city, you just wish he would take a break sometimes. His workload has doubled since you’ve been ‘out of commission’. It’s frustrating watching him stay out another hour or two to make up for the time he lost without you there, but Bruce would rather stay out all night than let you join him again.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you make your way down to Bruce’s area beneath the building. As you enter, Bruce makes a beeline toward his monitors and paperwork sprawled out along the desk. Following behind him, you place the plate down and start to work alongside him. Since Bruce hasn’t let you join him out at night, you’ve convinced him to let you at least do investigative work at home. Before he agreed, you swore you were going crazy. Of course, you went out often, but the thrill of working on something became your drug, and without it, you were having withdrawals. And as much as Bruce didn’t want to admit it, you were good at this, and he needed another set of hands to go over the things he’s collected.

After an hour of rummaging through some evidence Bruce has collected in a missing persons case, you can see that his body tenses, coming to a realization. Since you worked together, you caught it just a moment after he did. Something isn’t adding up. There’s an entire chunk of information missing, and coincidently, it’s the last piece you need before coming to a definitive answer on this case. “I have to go back,” his eyes are still glued to the screen in front of him.

You’re quick to interject, “But you just got back, you haven’t even eaten anything for Christ's sake. You can go out later.”

“No, I can’t,” he rises from his chair, “I’ll figure it out.”

“Well, you would’ve figured out what we were missing if you just let me go out there with you,” you’re frustrations rising enough to confront him about what had been on your mind all evening.

He raises his hand to rub his eyes in frustration, “Fuck (Y/N), you know why I can’t let that happen.”

“It happened so long ago, it doesn’t matter.”

“But it does,” his voice raises an octave, the sudden volume change echoing throughout the room, “it haunts me.”

Anger flows throughout your body, the sound of your voice surpassing his, “It was my fault, Bruce! I let my guard down, I wasn’t careful.”

“Do you know how scared I was,” he turns to you, “ I saw you laying in a pool of your blood and I thought you were dead.”

You stand up, now closer to eye level as you look up at him, “I’m sorry, but you don’t think I’ve learned from this too? I’m the one who went through all of this. I’ve laid in a bed for six fucking months, thinking about what I could’ve changed and what I could’ve done differently. When I was lying on that street, I thought Joker would take advantage of me, and somehow that scared me more than the thought of what bones he broke. You can’t save everyone, Batman.”

Your words end the conversation, and seeing Bruce stand there speechless was your signal to leave. You don’t care if he was going to respond, you just needed to get out. It wasn’t long before you put on your gear and warmed up your motorcycle, the familiar sound of the engine roaring to life brings a smile to your face. You waste no time in heading out into the biting air of Gotham in November, anxious to do what you’ve been waiting and craving to do for the past six months.

As soon as Bruce hears your motorcycle rev to life, he immediately rushes over to put on the gear he took off not even twenty-four hours prior. Climbing onto his own motorcycle, he follows loosely behind you.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach the location of where the evidence was collected. Entering through a side window, you can feel eyes bore into your back, no doubt your boyfriend peering from a spot above you. Bruce is not only looking into the window you climbed in but also the surroundings around you, making sure it’s clear.

It doesn’t take long for you to find the golden ticket of this entire investigation, a SIM card, smaller than a penny. Standing in the alley you call out, “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, babe.” Jumping down from his hiding spot in a nearby fire escape, he makes his way towards you and grabs the SIM card from your fingers. “You’re welcome,” you spit out.

Inspecting it, he asks, “Where was it?”

“Under the filing cabinet, someone slid it in between the cracks of the metal,” you mutter, sneaking behind him and snatching back the device before walking away.

Bruce grabs your wrist softly, stopping you in your tracks, “I’m sorry…for holding you back. You don’t need to be sheltered and you proved that.”

Looking over your shoulder at him, you speak, “I never did, Bruce.” A beat goes by before you turn and kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you back at home.”

--author's note: HEY GUYS!! i was 100% supposed to post this on halloween or the day after, but work kept me away from finishing this:( writing for pattinson!bruce specifically is so hard, because wdym he's an introvert and is awkward and probably very awkward and a loser??? im so used to writing babes like peter, so this was fun to try! don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!!! my asks/inbox is OPENNN, so send me anything you would like to see on this blog and i will get back asap...ok bye ily<3333

#battinson #pattinson!bruce wayne x reader #dc #batman x reader #batman oneshot #batman angst #pattinson!batman x reader #pattinson!batman x f!reader #oneshot #fluff #angst #hurt/little comfort

121 notes · View notes

popjunkie42 · 6 months

Text

Enchanted, Enthralled

I couldn't help it, Halloween weekend is upon us so I wrote you some smut as a treat.

(This is meant to be 3 chapters but tbh I do not have an ending yet, so please enjoy it as a little one-shot for now!)

Enchanted, Enthralled on A03

On a cold autumn night in Velaris, Feyre comes across a beautiful gift in her studio. But as a painting takes on a terrifying life of its own, Feyre begins to realize that not all is well. The question is: how long will her mate and friends take to notice, and will it be too late?

Or: Vampire!Feyre is let loose on an unsuspecting Rhysand.

Tags and Heads Up: Vampire!Feyre, vampire sex (with blood), dubcon (Feyre is possessed)

@rosanna-writer and @thesistersarcheron peer pressured me (they did not) and thanks to @witch-and-her-witcher and @xtaketwox for brainstorming with me!

Feyre wandered the streets of Velaris, chasing the fading sunlight, her boots crunching on fallen leaves.

The fall night air was chill as it twisted through the streets and snuck beneath her coat, the fabric of her skirts. Above her, the full moon hung low and heavy in the sky, its light shimmering off the cobblestones damp with mist.

The air around her was full of the scents of autumn, of cider and smoke and mulled wine.

Feyre loved Velaris in the autumn, the brisk cold beaten back by glowing hearths and warm meals at her table. So different from before, when she was hungry, when autumn was the harbinger of winter. Of harsh times and empty pantries.

Or…after that. In endless Spring. Where all was quiet and stagnant, even in ever bloom.

She rounded a corner and took a moment to appreciate the Rainbow, glowing before her under the cold starlight.

In the evenings, when there wasn’t dinner with the Inner Circle or some formal social event demanding a High Lady, Feyre liked to come to the studio. Knew she would have the place entirely to herself.

The door shut with the ring of a bell and she lit the fae lights in the room, the rest illuminated by the burning night lights of the city street.

The High Lady smiled as she doffed her coat and wandered through the maze of easels covered in the children’s paintings. She pulled off her gloves and scarf and set them gently down on her work bench on the far side of the room.

And paused. The usual mess was here, brushes and new supplies and paperwork and little gifts from the children. Sometimes Ressina teased her for the disorganized piles, but Feyre liked it. This was one of the few places she could spread out and destroy as well as make, without Nuala or Cerridwen or hell, even Rhys sometimes, following after her, picking up.

But what caught her eye was very out of place in the chaos. Atop the desk was a beautifully carved ornate wooden box. Though the wood was polished and immaculate, something about it screamed ancient .

It was common enough for the children to bring her gifts, and often the parents. But never anything as grandiose as this.

Patience never much of her strong suit, Feyre flipped the latch and lifted the heavy lid of the small chest until it hung back on its hinges.

No card, no engraving, no initials. Just twelve bottles of vibrant, fresh paint.

A soft smile played on her lips. Perhaps these were from the Continent, or one of the Master’s studios in Day? She was glad she was alone. Whoever had brought this perhaps had a sense of how embarrassed she would be, accepting such a luxurious gift.

The bottle of brilliant blue unscrewed easily and she grabbed a palette knife to mix the heavy pigment back in with the clear binder floating on top.

It was…mesmerizing. Bright and almost glowing. She wondered where they ever found the pigments to make something so otherworldly.

There was a lightness in her chest as she looked at the other bottles, each as vibrant and rich as the first. She had come here to paint, after all.

/|㇏^•ᵥᵥ•^ノ|\

The city streets outside were bursting with life, even in the chill. The sounds of conversation and the clap of shoes against the cobblestones grew as patrons left the latest show out at the theater up the street. Music swelled from the city square just beyond, and street vendors hawked their wares.

But when Feyre painted, it all faded into the background.

For too long, she thought, shaking her head as if from a dream. She arched her back and groaned at the crick forming from her bad posture.

Her brush dunked in the water glass beside her as she rubbed her stiff neck. Had it really been so long? She was mixing the paints, brushing on a tinted under layer, and then…

Finally her eyes returned to her canvas and she gasped.

Sworls of choppy blue, green and white centered the canvas, looking like rippling waves. She could have sworn they moved. And around them, bands and bands of dark black. A frame. A mirror. A door.

She didn’t remember painting a single stroke.

The painting seemed to ripple again, and maybe it was the light but she could have sworn…there was something behind the brush strokes, depths upon hidden depths.

She felt a familiar feeling, a dread in her belly and prickling of her skin. So like those first steps Under the Mountain, tiptoeing and peeking around each corner, knowing something terrible was inevitable around one of them.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

The sounds of the street faded away again as her eyes focused and unfocused. Feyre felt her arm lift, her fingers picking up a brush. As if on its own. She took a dab of paint and the world faded away.

/|㇏^•ᵥᵥ•^ノ|\

The second time, she still didn’t know how long she had been under. Because that’s what it felt like, thrashing under deep waves, being tossed back and forth. And somewhere, deeper still, a voice. Soothing and gentle. Telling her, just let go.

Sink .

-Darling?

It was the voice of her mate that brought her back with a start.

-What are you up to? I’ll be winnowing back from the camp soon.

-I’ll meet you at home, she quickly sent down the bond.

The painting had changed. Her heart pounded between her ribs.

Looking back at her was a single slitted eye, red as hot coals.

And she heard it whisper,

Sink .

/|㇏^•ᵥᵥ•^ノ|\

Rhys panted as he rolled his hips upward, the chill night breeze from the cracked window doing little to cool the heat of his skin, dripping with sweat.

Above him Feyre moaned, her hips grinding against his, her head tilting back to the ceiling with her mouth parted, tasting the air.

Only a single candle lit the room from the bedside table. The cold moonlight cast in, a sharp line through the curtain, the silver light piercing over her neck, her peaked breasts.

Rhys’s eyes were wide. Enchanted . She was so fierce and free tonight, taking everything she wanted. Feyre moved on him, her hand lifting to grasp her breast and he gasped as she clenched tighter around him.

She had been rough tonight, desperate. Throwing him against the wall and ripping away his fine black jacket the moment he stepped into the bedroom. He had barely had time to grin, to tease her for her lascivious hands and lips until he was thrown onto the bed, his clothes roughly stripped from his body.

He gripped her hips, trying to guide his body deeper into her. His pleasure was a wild, feral thing, setting off sparks in his mind the more he felt the wanton drag of his cock through her slick wetness.

Feyre opened her mouth in a gasp as her back arched, the light catching on her pointed canines. Her hands went to cover his on her hips, and he felt her talons growing and scratching against his skin.

Though he was inside her, touching her everywhere, his body only cried out more, more.

Her skin was pale, almost blue in the moonlight, but her body was burning, scorching him under his palms and where they were joined at the hip.

Through his lusty haze, he felt the sudden pangs of a hunger so desperate the breath caught in his throat.

Feyre whimpered, a delicious sound, and leaned forward on her knees to pitch towards him and suckle at the pulse throbbing in his neck.

“Rhys,” she panted. Her voice was deep, desperate. “I’m so hungry.”

He gasped as the feeling struck him down the bond, her aching emptiness traveling through the golden tether between them and gripping his heart.

Between his pleasure he felt the flashes, of a girl starving and cold in the woods, of moldy bread in a dank prison cell. All the times she was alone and he hadn’t been there to provide. It was driving him mad. He felt the urge to let his power rise, to turn back the sun and moon in the sky until he was there every moment she was alone and desperate and surround her with his wings. To place delectable morsels on her waiting tongue, let her suck the taste from his fingers.

That tongue was lapping against his neck, licking off beads of sweat, replaced by the scrape of her teeth, sharp against his skin.

Though she was in his arms, her cunt fluttering around him, his heart was breaking with her hunger, her need. His mate was starving. A primal urge rose within him, to provide, to satiate.

“Darling ,” he cried, his voice breaking. “What do you need? Tell me,” he pleaded, his arms wrapping around her back, hot and slick with sweat.

She nipped at his neck. “ I’m so hungry,” she said again, nuzzling at his throat.

“Yes, yes,” he cried. As if he could, would ever deny her anything. Certainly not with his cock buried deep inside her and her voice this needy whine. “Take what you need,” he whispered into the dark.

Her body stilled at that and his own cried out at the lack of friction. But he felt her smile against his neck, and then her teeth scraped, and then she was biting, her sharp canines piercing through his flesh to reach his hammering pulse beneath it.

All feeling in his body rushed, like an errant wave, and he came with a hoarse cry as he spilled himself inside of her.

His vision is blurred and his mind is hazy as he comes down from his climax, the thoughts filtering through his mind like wandering clouds across the night sky. Feyre’s mouth is hot against his neck, a heady, burning sensation running down from her lips to his limbs, his body tingling. The feelings down the bond are glowing, warm, thankful.

Instead of relaxing back into the bed, his body, he feels he’s moving up, and up, floating above the mattress. He feels a drip of something, blood or sweat, escape Feyre’s lips and travel down the muscles of his neck. Her teeth are sharp but her mouth is warm, her tongue dancing over his skin.

And oh, she’s so content. She hums against him, the sound reverberating through his neck to his skull. She’s taking and taking and all he wants is to give her more, to fill her up. She pierced his skin and all his strength, the swirling madness of his darkness rushed out to satiate her need.

She sucks harder and he feels his limbs going loose and light, his whole body weightless and attuned to every place they are connected. He groans with her ecstasy, her joy. Gone is the starving human girl in the forest, bitter and trembling. He is feeding his mate, his Feyre, and here on top of him she is safe and warm.

Just when his body feels like it might sink, might fall through the mattress and into whatever dark earth lies beneath it, she breaks from his neck with a gasp.

Feyre throws her head back towards the ceiling, panting, the moonlight cascading down her body once again. He watches, enraptured, feeling like he’s outside of his body, vaguely charting the dribble of blood dripping from her lips to her chin to her throat, pooling in the hollow of her collarbone.

He is so tired now. He files the vision of her blood stained teeth deep within him for another time. All he feels now is her pleased murmurings across the bond. A deep humming contentment in his chest. The male, now content, who dreamt sometimes about that ancient High Lord, dashing his body and blood against the stone streets of Velaris, to keep it safe.

He groaned as she slipped off of him, but his hands wouldn’t quite work the way he wanted them to. The mattress dipping beside him as she collapsed. She was still breathing heavily, licking her lips. He turned his head and wished she would do the same, needing to drink in more of her.

And finally she did. She looked at him and smiled, a glint in her eyes that was strange but, her smile, that was enough to send a shiver down his body. His eyelids heavy, he smiled back.

“Are you happy, darling?” He whispered.

Safe and warm and fed.

Her smile widened as his eyes slowly drooped. A buzzing in the back of his head was the only thing keeping him from slipping away completely. His mind clung to the feel of her sharp talons, softly scraping against his skin. Drops of blood pooled with her sweat and finally drifted across her collarbone and down her shoulder.

“I’m so happy,” she said, and he fell into the darkness with a soft sigh. “You taste so good, my love.”

#acotar #feysand #acomaf #rhysand #feyre #acotar fanfiction #fanfic #vampire smut #feysand fic #feysand smut #happy halloween #spooky vibes #vampires

63 notes · View notes

fatherforgivethem · 7 months

Text

Thank you to @sidraofthewildflowers for sending this pic to me because it’s so beautifully helaegon in my mind

- I’ve used this picture before for a wedding au but I need to revisit it!

- Helaena who wants the wedding to be small with only close family and friends. Aegon who only wants to get married to her and will do whatever she asks.

- They get married at their moms house in the yard. It’s decorated with flowers and theres a little handmade alter. Criston spent days crafting it for them. He even had Alicent help him find the right flowers to add to it. In the top corner, he engraved Aegon and Helaena’s initials in the wood.

- Criston was the one to walk Helaena down the asile. Daeron and Aemond are Aegon’s best men. Daeron is jumping from excitement and Aemond keeps poking Aegon and teasing him.

- Helaena wore Alicent’s mothers wedding dress. Alicent wanted to wear it to her own wedding, but she hadnt been allowed to. So she saved it for her future children. Helaena loved the look of it and knew, the moment that she tried it on, it was the dress that she would get married in.

- Alicent helped to braid and do Helaena’s hair for the wedding, and then Helaena helped Alicent with her own hair.

- The dinner was full of warm food and Daeron walking around filming everyone.

- The wedding was simple and small, and it was perfect. It was the kind of wedding that one would imagine for Aegon and Helaena. They were happy, and that’s what mattered.

#aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #helaegon #hotd #alicent hightower #aemond targaryen #daeron targaryen #ser criston cole #wedding au #I love them if you can’t tell #helaegon nation we rise #love that tag #it’s so special to me #modern au #hotd headcanon #headcanon

58 notes · View notes

thegoldensanctuary · 7 months

Text

Louis XV's royal clutter

Castles opened to the public tend to put a great emphasis on furnitures, paintings and panellings. This focus often occurs at the expense of smaller every day items, such as tools, services, boxes and so on.

Even as far back as the 18th century, inventories of the garde meuble- the administration in charge of the French royal furnitures and collections- often omitted those smaller items, in favour of a greater focus on the furnitures themselves.

Several exception that that rule do exist for instance : When King Louis XV died the 10th of May 1774 in Versailles, his Versailles private cabinets were opened and searched, all the cash and the precious items contained in his cupboards were listed and described in an inventory made 27 days after his death.

Said inventory isn't located in the documents of the House of King(O1 series of the french national archives) like it is usually the case, but in the King's papers, namely in the K series of the national archives, more specifically the K 153.

The document in question was never published nor translated to this date.

I decided to publish it for the first time and translate it entirely to give an idea of the of the kind of clutter that was present in the king's private cabinets in Versailles at the time of his death :

Here is the translation of the provided text into English:

1: Four gold snuffboxes, three enameled, one guilloché,

2: A black lacquer snuffbox mounted in gold,

3: A snuffbox of black tortoiseshell.

4: An ivory candy box.

5: Two watches encrusted with diamonds with their chains also adorned with diamonds

6: An enameled watch with diamond hands and button, a gold cord, and two seals encrusted with diamonds,

7: A garnet box watch adorned with diamonds, attached with a blue ribbon,

9: A large rock crystal flask with a gold stopper, and two seals encrusted with diamonds

10: A small crystal flask

11: A large enameled gold flask

12: Two plain gold flasks in a roussette box

13: A shell flask

14: A rock crystal flask in a roussette case

15: Seven math instrument cases, some in plain gold, others enameled, and some encrusted with diamonds

16: A side case with an enameled gold chain but with diamond buttons

17: Two pocket cases, one enameled gold adorned with diamonds and rubies, and one in jade

18: Four lorgnettes - two in gold, two in silver, and one in copper

19: Two pencil cases, one enameled gold adorned with diamonds, the other containing a compass

20: A Baradel in gold

21: A small portable silver barometer

22: Four tablets in gold, lacquer, or Burgos, one of tortoiseshell with diamond cyphers

23: Three souvenirs, one of enameled gold

24: A hunting knife with a gold handle

25: A dog collar with diamond initials.

26: A large lacquer tablet containing eight portraits of the royal family adorned in gold

27: A lacquer tablet with a portrait inside

28: Four portraits in three plain boxes

29: An ivory barrel adorned with gold

30: A piece of jade from the Amazon River

31: A Sèvres porcelain lorgnette

32: A gold and Magellan telescope

33: A porcelain Sèvres eyewash basin

34: A small red leather writing set adorned with gold, with a gold seal and pencil

35: A damask pruning knife

36: A double-bladed mother-of-pearl knife with a gold fleur-de-lys

37: Three glasses cases, one of tortoiseshell adorned with gold

38: An approaching eyeglass adorned with silver

39: A watch with its chain and seals, all in rubies and diamonds

41: A mathematics case in yellow lacquer with diamond buttons

42: Two almanacs mounted in silver and marcasites in their roussette cases

45: Three seals, two in gold, one in stone

47: Four rings, three with diamonds or coloured stones, one with an engraved stone

48: An English lorgnette

49: Four canes - one with a gold handle, one with a porcelain crutch, one with a gold apple adorned with diamonds, one with a golden apple-wood handle and parasol

50: Six watches - one in gold, enameled with a steel chain and chime, two other enameled, three other guilloché gold

51: A steel mirror

52: A gold egg cup in a roussette case

53: A gold writing set with Charlier paintings, in miniature in a roussette case

54: A very beautiful crystal vase, measuring 9 inches in height

55: A gold breakfast set consisting of a Sevres porcelain tray, two identical cups, a gold teapot and sugar pot, two spoons, a strainer, and a sugar tong made of the same metal

56: A gold-enameled punch pot with a pump, and a second pot of Saxony porcelain

57: A small enameled gold punch pot with a pump and a crystal basin

58: Two gold-enameled candlesticks with their bobeches

59: A crystal breakfast set surrounded by gold, consisting of three goblets

60: Another crystal breakfast set consisting of two carafes and a covered goblet, with the tray of enameled gold

61: A red leather box, edged with gold, containing 12 gold spoons and 12 gold forks, two roast oval plates, two appetizer plates, two dessert plates, and six dishes, all made of the same metal, with one missing, which is in the possession of Mr. de Fontanieu.

62: A set in a red leather box containing a lacquer box with a marabout, a teapot, a spirit lamp, six coffee spoons, all made of gold, three cups, a sugar pot, and a milk jug made of Sevres porcelain

63: A set in a walnut wood box containing 12 gold tableware, twelve knives with rosewood handles, gold cup and rosette, steel blades, twelve knives with Sevres porcelain handles adorned with cup rosette landau, plus four gold plates

64: A red lacquer box reinforced with gold, containing a Sevres porcelain bowl adorned with gold, two gold spoons, a covered crystal goblet adorned with gold, two porcelain pasta pots from Sevres

65: A wooden case enclosed in a black lacquer box containing a marabout made of gold with handles made of Sevres porcelain, two large sugar pots, two saucers, and two chocolate cups made of porcelain, a spirit lamp, adorned with gold, a square crystal flask adorned with gold, two coffee spoons, and a large gold spoon

66: A gold-plated copper microscope in its pyramid case

Dom Noël, Planche 19 Microscope tripode.

67: A writing set with 12 zodiac signs

68: A wooden box reinforced with silver containing a pharmacy adorned with silver

69: A yellow lacquer box enclosed in a red leather box

70: A graphometer in a red leather case

71: A gold compass with its stand and a level in a sharkskin case

72: A black lacquer box

73: A breakfast set consisting of a painted sheet metal tray and two porcelain cups

74: A writing set made of silver-reinforced roussette

75: Supplementary gold tableware, three coffee spoons, one tea spoon, a gold set in a roussette case

76: A small black lacquer box

77: A small oak chest, we weren't able to find the key

78: A box of tools with wooden handles and silver ferrules

79: A box of Kingswood,but the key wasn't found

80: A gold-braided telescope

81: A coffee pot for four gold cups with jasper handles and six gold coffee spoons, in a leather case made to contain 12.

#historical research #historical #history #rococo #18th century #Versailles #louis xv of france #Louis XV #palace of versailles

56 notes · View notes

homomenhommes · 2 months

Text

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … FEBRUARY 24

1836 – Winslow Homer (d.1910) was an American landscape painter and printmaker, best known for his marine subjects. One of the most prolific and important American painters and printmakers of the second half of the nineteenth century, Winslow Homer created a distinctly American, modern classical style.

Homer dealt with many of the same themes that writers such as Henry Thoreau, Herman Melville, and Walt Whitman did, including the heroism displayed by ordinary individuals, when confronted by seemingly insuperable difficulties; the camaraderie and friendships enjoyed by soldiers and working men; and the isolation of the individual in the face of the "Other."

Born in Boston on February 24, 1836, Homer was initially trained as an artist by his mother, Henrietta Benson Winslow, who successfully exhibited watercolors of flowers and other still life subjects throughout her adult life.

Between 1855 and 1857, he was apprenticed to John H. Bufford, a nationally prominent commercial artist, based in Boston; with this training, he began to do free-lance work for Harper's Weekly and other magazines.

In 1861, Homer was commissioned by Harper's Weekly as a special artist/correspondent to record the events of the Civil War. Homer failed to produce the heroic battle scenes that his editors had wanted. Yet his images of the daily lives of ordinary soldiers greatly appealed to the magazine's readers and helped to establish his reputation.

Among other subjects, he represented guard duty (A Sharp-Shooter on Picket Duty, wood engraving, 1867); punishments for minor infractions (A Punishment for Intoxication, painting, 1863); medical care for the wounded (The Surgeon at Work at the Rear During an Engagement, wood engraving, 1862); and recreation (Soldier Dancing, drawing, 1862).

The Empty Sleeve at Newport

As the war ended, Homer revealed the personal "costs" of the conflict in such images as The Empty Sleeve at Newport (wood engraving, 1865), which represents a one-armed man, riding in a carriage with a sad, aloof well-dressed woman.

Very little is known about Homer's "private" life. He consistently refused to answer personal questions from critics and potential biographers, and he left no revealing diaries or other personal papers. His reclusiveness is indicated by the fact that he produced no self-portraits; in contrast, most American and European painters of the nineteenth century eagerly exploited the rapidly growing market for images of artists.

Most historians have adamantly maintained that Homer remained a bachelor because he was extraordinarily "shy" around women. However, it would seem more plausible to suggest that Homer simply may not have been interested in women sexually.

Constructing Homer as a solitary eccentric, who virtually withdrew from human society, most scholars have overlooked evidence of significant, intimate associations with other men.

One of his closest friends was Albert Kelsey, a fellow artist whom he initially met in 1858 in Massachusetts. In 1867, Kelsey traveled with Homer to Paris, where they lived together for the next two years.

A studio photograph, made while they were in Paris, mimics the conventions of marriage portraits, as do so many photographic portraits of male friends of this period. Kelsey inscribed the back of the photograph with the names "Damon and Pythias," famous ancient Greek heroes and lovers.In the 1890s, Homer remembered their friendship in the humorous and erotically suggestive drawing "Albert Kelsey riding a giant turtle in the Bahamas."

Homer's closest companion in the final years of his life was an African-American man, Lewis Wright, who worked as his servant and lived at his Prout's Neck, Maine estate from 1895 to 1910. There are indications that some of Homer's acquaintances were disconcerted by the apparent closeness of his friendship with Wright. While most "negative" reactions involved race, other "unmentionable" factors may also have been involved.

The Herring Net

Throughout his career, Homer created images that celebrated diverse aspects of male friendships. Thus, he depicted soldiers, unified in melancholy longing for peacetime home life (Home, Sweet Home, 1863); wilderness guides enjoying the beauties of nature (Two Guides, 1871); and fishermen laboring together (The Herring Net, 1885) and coping with dangerous storms (The Signal of Distress, 1890).

Homer died on September 29, 1910 in Prout's Neck, Maine.

1852 – The Irish novelist, short-story writer, poet, art critic, memoirist and dramatist, George Moore was born on this date (d.1933). Moore came from a Roman Catholic landed family. He originally wanted to be a painter, and studied art in Paris during the 1870s. There, he befriended many of the leading French artists and writers of the day.

As a naturalistic writer, he was amongst the first English-language authors to absorb the lessons of the French realists, and was particularly influenced by the works of Émile Zola. His writings influenced James Joyce, according to the literary critic and biographer Richard Ellmann, and, although Moore's work is sometimes seen as outside the mainstream of both Irish and British literature, he is as often regarded as the first great modern Irish novelist.

According to Brian Lacey's new book, Queer Creatures: A History of Homosexuality in Ireland, Moore outed his good friend, the artist Edward Martyn, in his three-volume masterpiece Hail and Farewell (published between 1911 and 1914). Moore, who was attracted to the handsome young Yeats, later fell in love with the celebrated French painter Edouard Manet, who painted three portraits of him. Moore was influenced by the homosexual Oxford critic Walter Pater, and Moore's 1879 work, "Flowers of Passion," already contained references to Lesbianism. Moore's 1887 novel, A Mere Accident, also has a homosexual theme and its central character is again based on Martyn.

1868 – The first parade to have floats is staged at Mardi Gras in New Orleans, Louisiana.

1938 – A California appellate court upholds an oral copulation conviction of a man in a hotel after naval investigators listened in and heard his bed squeaking.

1939 – Doric Wilson (d.2011), the American playwright, was born on this date. Some people write for the "alternative" theatre because they aren't good enough for Broadway. Doric Wilson wrote for it because he was too good for the Great White Way. Wilson was one of the first playwrights at NYC's legendary Caffe Cino, his comedy "And He Made A Her" opening there in 1961. Other Cino productions followed, including "Now She Dances!" (one-act version), "Babel Babel Little Tower " and "Pretty People" .

Street Theater, Wilson's best-known play, is a fictionalization of the Stonewall riots, an event in which Wilson took part. Using satire and exaggeration, Wilson recreates the milieu of street culture in Greenwich Village in the late 1960s, presenting characters variously described as "heavy leather, keys left," "a flower child," and "a street queen." The characters are archetypes representing both the disparate groups involved in the riot and also real people Wilson knew. A complex parody of Wilder's Our Town and Crowley's The Boys in the Band, the play is both deeply literary and deeply rooted in a particular time and place.

A veteran of the anti-war and civil rights demonstrations of the early 1960s-mid 1970s, Wilson was a participant in the Stonewall Riots. An active participant in the early gay liberation movement, Wilson was a member of the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA). He helped support himself as a bartender and manager of several bars and clubs that sprouted up in the wake of Stonewall, including such institutions as Spike, Ty's, and Brothers & Sisters Cabaret. Wilson's activism and his thorough immersion in New York's gay community are reflected significantly in his work.

In 1974, Wilson (with Billy Blackwell, Peter del Valle and John McSpadden) formed TOSOS (The Other Side of Silence), the first professional theatre company to deal openly and honestly with the gay experience. The company featured new plays and revivals by such writers as Brendan Behan, Noël Coward, Christopher Hampton, Charles Jurrist, Joe Orton, Terrence McNally, Robert Patrick, Sandra Scoppettone, Martin Sherman and Lanford Wilson. In June, 2001, Wilson, and directors Mark Finley and Barry Childs resurrected the company as TOSOS II. The original TOSOS and its production of Doric Wilson's play The West Street Gang are featured in "Perform", the new permanent exhibit on theatre at The Museum of New York City.

A pioneer in the Off-Off-Broadway movement, he was completely committed to alternative theater and over the past 25 years has written, directed and produced more than a hundred productions. Such plays as Forever After, A Perfect Relationship , and The West Side Gang made him not only "one of a handful of leading contemporary playwrights who deal frankly with the Gay experience," but a satirist of the first water whose targets - hypocrisy, cant, and simply human foibles - are universal.

1975 – Gary Lane and Larry Lane, born in Goldsboro, N.C., are identical twin actors, models, film producers and screenwriters. They are both gay. The twins have appeared in feature films and national TV ads and are three-time grand prize champions of reality TV competitions. They are best known for a film they co-produced and appeared in, Hollywood to Dollywood, a feature-length documentary released theatrically in 2012. The film, about their quest to personally deliver a screenplay they've written to singer-actress Dolly Parton, played at 60 film festivals and won 24 festival awards.

Since the early 2000s, the Lane twins have appeared in feature films, TV programs, reality TV shows and TV commercials. As teenagers, they appeared on several episodes of Dawson's Creek and played twin colonial flag bearers in the Mel Gibson film The Patriot (2000). Other film appearances include Zoolander (2001), New Best Friend (2002), Spider-Man (2002), The Girl Next Door (2004), Eating Out 3: All You Can Eat (2009), and Jack and Jill (2011)

youtube

The Lane Twins talk of their life

The twins have competed on and won $50,000 on NBC's Fear Factor; beat out 24 other contestants for the grand prize of $50,000 on ABC's Winter Wipeout; and won $125,000 on the reality TV competition Set For Life. Gary Lane said their goal for appearing on these shows was to win money to pay for music rights and production costs associated with their documentary Hollywood to Dollywood. "For every wipeout, I would say, 'that was for Jolene, and for every ouch, 'that was for Coat of Many Colors!,'" Gary Lane said, referring to the need to raise money for licensing rights to hit Parton songs.

The Lane twins wrote a screenplay, Full Circle, which includes a role tailored for Dolly Parton. They submitted the script to Parton's management, but Parton's managers returned it as "unsolicited material." The twins decided to drive from Los Angeles, where they live, to Parton's theme park in Tennessee, Dollywood. The goal was to try and hand their script to Parton during one of her appearances at Dollywood's 25th anniversary celebration. In addition, the documentary explores the Lane twins' concerns about their Southern hometown's potential reaction to the film (and to the brothers' homosexuality) and their desire for acceptance from their Southern Baptist mother. Also on the journey is Gary's partner, Michael Bowen, who has crafted a birdhouse for Ms. Parton. The journey to deliver their screenplay is the focus of their documentary feature, Hollywood to Dollywood, which played at 60 film festivals throughout 2011 and 2012, winning 24 awards.

Parton makes an appearance in the film. After viewing the documentary, she gave the twins rights to use her music and likeness in its promotions. The Lane twins donate 10 percent of each Hollywood to Dollywood DVD sold to Parton's Imagination Library, an organization that provides free books to young children and is part of the Dollywood Foundation.

Today's Gay Wisdom:

George Moore

Faith goes out of the window when beauty comes in at the door. - George Moore

The mind petrifies if a circle be drawn around it, and it can hardly be denied that dogma draws a circle round the mind. - George Moore

A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it. - George Moore

A great artist is always before his time or behind it. - George Moore

I am filled with pride when I think of the noble and exalted world that must have existed before Christian doctrine caused men to look upon women with suspicion and bade them to think of angels instead. - George Moore

The world is dying of machinery; that is the great disease, that is the plague that will sweep away and destroy civilization; man will have to rise against it sooner or later. - George Moore

The difficulty in life is the choice.

- George Moore

26 notes · View notes