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miasmaghoul · 6 months

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miasma what r ur swiss tummy thoughts 🎤

syringe how DARE u make me consider the swummy when i have SO MANY KINKTOBER PROMPTS LEFT >:(

sigh.

anyway. i think swiss gains a little weight between tours and as such two ghouls in particular are even more obsessed with him than usual.

(contains: body worship, marking, tit sucking, some light scent kink, sloppy kissing, drool, teasing, and swiss being the desperate one for a change. at least a little)

His rusty purr echoes off his bedroom walls, his fingers drag through two heads of soft hair, and Swiss thinks this is as close to bliss as a guy can get.

Aeon had slithered up to Swiss' side right after lunch and hooked their elbows together, wrangling him back to the dorms with warm lips pressed to Swiss' ear. He hadn't complained; there were a few empty hours to spare until evening practice, he could allow their new addition to distract him for a bit.

Finding Dew waiting for them in the center of his bed, joint already lit, had been a surprise of the loveliest variety.

Swiss doesn't know how long it's been since they finished it off, but it's been long enough for Dew and Aeon to get wonderfully handsy. They'd fallen back against the headboard on Dew's last exhale, the little ghoul pinned to Swiss' right side and Aeon attached to his left. Heavy arms slung around their shoulders while Dew nuzzled his chest and Aeon shoved his nose into Swiss' throat.

This isn't the first time they've captured him like this over the past couple of weeks, and Swiss is sure it won't be the last. There are still nine days until the next tour picks up, and at this point it's harder to keep them off of him than on him.

It always starts with them touching over his shirt, long fingers dimpling the places where the fabric has gone taut. Drawn tighter after months of indulging in food, drink, and abject laziness when permitted. It happens to all of them, a few pounds added when they aren't able to sweating it off on stage. Even Dew has the most delightful little belly roll and love handles now, along with a bit more touchable puffiness in his chest. It'll all burn off once things pick up again, so none of the ghouls find themselves bothered when they all go a little soft(er) around the edges.

Least of all Swiss. He owns the tightest shirts for a reason.

Not that his shirts last very long when they do this. This afternoon was no different, Swiss' tee tossed to the floor the moment Aeon started to drool onto it. Their hands were on him immediately then; Dew grabbed a handful of his now-softer chest while he buried his face in Swiss' armpit, and Aeon had been quick to to sink his fingers into his stomach while he latched on to Swiss' collarbone. Both of then making the happiest little trilling sounds at the feel of his pudge giving beneath their skilled hands, sounds that made Swiss feel just a little higher.

Now, a truly unknown amount of time later, they've both migrated south. Dew's still pressed close, a skinny leg wrapped around Swiss' knee. He can feel the little ghoul's warmth through both of their pants, and there's sure to be a wet spot in Dew's jeans whenever he chooses to shred them. Dew's mouth is warmer, though, busy sucking the latest of many marks just below his navel. They overlap with the last round of still-healing bruises spotting Swiss' torso, a purpled mosaic of adoration.

Swiss sighs, rakes his claws over the little ghoul's scalp, and Dew looks up at him with the glassiest eyes. His lips swollen, flushed from so long spent worshipping every inch of Swiss he could reach. Spit slick as Swiss' own skin.

"Your eyes are red," he purrs, grinning with barely-open eyes. He cups Dew's cheek, no longer quite so hollow, and drags his thumb over his lower lip. "Almost as red as this pretty mouth."

Those lovely lips curl into the laziest smile when Swiss slips his thumb between them. The little ghoul gives it a lazy suck that has Swiss groaning, throbbing in his too-tight jeans. A pulse so intense that he's sure Aeon must feel it too, and the little whimper that floats up from his chest only confirms his suspicions.

Aeon's been straddling his other leg for a while now, making an absolute mess of his bare chest. Mouthing at his tits wet and sloppy, saliva catching in his thatch of chest hair with every pass of his tongue. Aeon's paid special attention to his nipples too, of course. Gotten them all puffed up and so dark with sharp but gentle teeth. He has one hand stuck up Dew's shirt, the other firmly planted on the side of Swiss' belly that Dew can't quite reach. Kneading away with abandon and entirely lost in his own little world.

Swiss drags his claws down the curved length of Aeon's spine, and the sound he makes has Swiss' eyelids drooping even further.

The other ghoul's lithe body is bent in a way that has his thigh slotted right up against Swiss' bulge. Not with enough pressure for him to get anything out of it, but it means they're close enough that Swiss can feel Aeon twitch against his hip too. Aeon gasps against his skin when Swiss grabs a handful of his ass, but flat out growls when he encourages Aeon to rut against him. Swiss chuckles, raises an eyebrow.

"Wazzat for, kitten?" He's can't keep the humor from his voice, impossible when Aeon sounds about as threatening as your average bowl of oatmeal. "Y'think I can look and not wanna touch?"

Swiss flexes his thigh, pushes it up into Aeon's obvious arousal, and earns a much more appropriate whine for his trouble. Aeon looks up at him, mouth hanging open, cheeks darkened and eyes barely focused. There's a string of saliva connecting his plush power lip with Swiss' nipple, and Swiss would break it with his tongue if he could reach.

"Didn't say that," Aeon slurs, pushing himself upright and pulling his hand from Dew's warm little tummy. The smaller ghoul makes a displeased sound around Swiss' thumb, but it's quashed quickly when Aeon scratches at the space between his horns. "Jus' not in a rush, is all. You're not gonna squishy forever. Wanna enjoy it."

Swiss tips his head and watches him for a long moment. Watches Aeon stretch both arms over his head, exposing a delicious stripe of his own flat stomach. He and Aurora haven't been around long enough to be affected by The Gluttony, but Swiss knows it'll happen soon enough. A few months touring and they'll come back with all sorts of new, voracious appetites in dire need of sating.

Swiss can't fucking wait.

He hisses when fangs sink into his thumb, pulling it from Dew's mouth with a soft pop. He frowns down at the little ghoul, but can't keep up the scowl for long. Not when Dew's scooting down to nose at his happy trail.

"You went away," he admonishes, kissing the button of Swiss' jeans. Chin hovering over straining denim. Dew's heavy eyes flash with something playful. "Jus' 'cause we're takin' our time," he murmurs, grinding slow against Swiss' leg, "doesn't mean you get t' think about other shit."

Swiss huffs through his nose, but offers a slightly sheepish smile. He reaches down, traces the shell of Dew's pointed ear with one fingers. The little ghoul chirrups, leans into the touch, and Swiss' other hand lands on Aeon's thigh. Strokes lean muscle, wishing it was skin beneath his palm. But hey, if they're in no rush then neither is he.

"Sorry Sparky, jus' got distracted for a second," he says with a wink. "'M all yours, I promise."

A bony hand sinks into his curls, and Swiss finds his gaze being redirected. Finds Aeon looking down at him with his head tilted, black and white waves falling over his forehead. There's something fascinating in his swirling lavender eyes, something Swiss knows he should recognize, but can't quite place. Something so similar to the brazen need in Dew's eyes, yet entirely different.

"Ours," Aeon corrects, voice firm. "You're ours."

Oh, that's what it is.

Possession.

Swiss' tongue feels suddenly too thick, too cumbersome. Impossible to form an intelligent response when his mouth is so dry. When had it gotten so dry? He has no idea. Still, he tries. Manages to make a dull gurgling sound while he soaks a stain into his boxers. Fuck he's so hard.

Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the darkness in Aeon's eyes vanishes. He's loose once more, hazy, rolling his hips just enough for Swiss to feel the swollen ridge of his cock against his thigh. Then he's leaning down, and Swiss finds himself being kissed with the sort of slowness usually reserved for third dates and drive-in movies. Deep and with what most would consider too much tongue, but they both know that's just how Swiss likes it.

Warm hands squeeze his stomach, and Swiss manages to crack one eye open. Angles his head so he can peer down at Dew. Swiss smiles into the kiss at the sight of him, wide-eyed with his lips caught between his fangs. Groping his stomach like it's his job and not so subtly humping Swiss' leg while he devours the sight before him. A delicious sight, one made all the better when he sees Dew's hand creep up his thigh. Over his hip.

Swiss groans deep and pained when Dew finally, blessedly, cups the dull ache between his legs. Molds his fingers to the obvious swell of Swiss' cock and gives it a nice little rub. It's hardly anything, but it sends his head spinning anyway.

Or maybe that's Aeon stealing the air from his lungs. Hard to say.

Either way, Swiss is beyond dizzy when Aeon chooses to relent. Gulps for breath, licks his lips to drink down every sweet drop of saliva coating them. Aeon huffs out a soft laugh, rubbing their noses together and bumping horns.

Aeon licks a stripe up his cheek, Swiss moans, and Dew purrs when his cock kicks hard.

"Gonna let us play again now?"

Swiss is pretty sure he'd give up nuclear launch codes if it meant they would keep touching him like this. The fervent nod he offers Aeon only supports that.

"S'much as you want, baby," he sighs, hands roving restlessly over Aeon's shirt. Swiss' eyewhen Dew pops his button and starts to tug down his zipper. "Fuck, much as you both want."

Aeon kisses his temple, hums against thin skin, and then he's slinking his way down Swiss' body. Dragging his hands from Swiss' broad shoulders, over his pecs, down his tummy. Poking and prodding at his softest spots with the worst kind of smile on his face. He joins Dew in short order, bumps their horns together, and then they're kissing each other all slow and gross and unholy fuck does Swiss ache.

Aeon's hand joins Dew's at his zipper, both of their free hands occupied with massaging his stomach. Dew's the one to reach into his boxers once the last tooth separates, and Swiss doesn't even try to hide his groan of relief when the little ghoul pulls him out at last.

"Fuuuuuuck," he breathes, pure relief and red-hot tension threaded into the word in equal measure. It feels like he could cum in half a second, and yet somehow like his orgasm is a million miles away at the same time. A confusing ball of tangled need stuck low in his pelvis.

Then Aeon reaches in to cup his balls, and Swiss sees pretty purple spots.

"Heavy," Aeon coos, palming his sack and breaking the kiss just to flash Swiss a little fang. Dew takes it upon himself to nuzzle the base of his cock, to breathe in deep, and Swiss swears he feels the little ghoul get even wetter.

"Full," he rumbles, reaching out to rest a hand on the backs of each of their necks. Just to hold, a little something to keep him grounded. "Gonna empty 'em for me?"

Both ghouls snicker - never a good sign - and Dew lets his cock slide from his loose grip. Lets it fall against Swiss' pudge with a slap that's much louder than it should be, all things considered. Swiss shivers when he watches it spit fluid into his belly hair, and shudders when the pair of them dip down to lick up every drop. His dick jumps, hits Dew's cheek, and Aeon licks that spot up too.

Then they're kissing again, swapping spit that must carry the salty tang of his pre, and Swiss can only think of one thing.

"Will you...kiss it?" He swallows hard, warmth blooming through his pelvis when they part. When they gaze at him with lazy deviance. "Together?"

The noisy purrs Swiss gets in response make his toes curl.

#miasma's work #the band ghost fic #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss/aeon/dew #swiss x aeon x dew #ALL HAIL THE SWUMMY #not reading before posting so if you see mistakes #no you dont #enjoy syringe u heathen

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moonbeamsandmayhem · 6 months

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pairing: steddie x fem!reader

warnings: cnc, predator/prey dynamic, blood mention (i think that’s it, please lmk if not.)

Your lungs were burning. Sucking in cold air hard enough that your chest felt it may burst at the seams. Your legs were equally aflame as they carried you through the wooded area of Lover’s Lake fast as they dared. You could feel their eyes on you; predators slowly biding their time. And it sent a thrill through you. You didn’t dare stop, even when you could hear their cat calls, their taunts, carried on the chilly wind.

You knew they’d catch you soon. They wanted you to have your bit of fun, to play out your fantasy as the helpless little rabbit.

You run for another five minutes, finally having to stop, you lean back against a particularly gnarled tree trunk, sucking in air into your oxygen starved lungs. Your body is covered in a sheen of cold sweat, clothes clinging to you as you try to reign control of the rapid thumping in your chest.

A snap of twigs to your left catches your attention, head whipping round. You’re greeted by the Cheshire Cat grin of Eddie, all teeth and so very smug. His hands are behind his back as he leisurely closes the distance between you. “Gotcha.”

“Not yet.” You snip, turning on your heel to begin the pursuit again but you’re met with something solid, something warm. And you bounce half a step back only to be met by Steve Harrington’s questioning brow. With the trained quickness of a learned athlete, he grabs a hold of your upper arm, bringing you to his chest.

“You were saying?”

You put a fight. A damn good fight. Both Steve and Eddie are impressed at how you’re able to land some solid hits, even drawing blood. Scraped fingernails claw against Eddie’s cheek, crimson blooming, dripping down to his lips. He holds your gaze as he licks them clean, securing handcuffs to your wrists.

“I know we said we’d bring her back to the van, but��”

“Here?” Steve looks around. But you all are quite alone, save for the things that go bump in the night.

“Here,” Eddie affirms. “You wanna be treated like an animal, sweetheart? Then we’ll fuck you like one.” His and Steve’s hands tear your clothes, groping appreciatively, the sound of ripping fabric permeating the air. They make quick work of it, leaving you in tatters. The swell of your breasts heave and you try to cross your legs to hide yourself from their hungry gaze.

Steve clicks his tongue, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “Gone all shy now, huh?”

They show you no mercy. Eddie ruts into you from the back, hand wrapped around your throat as he slams into you over and over, slick coating your thighs. You choke on your moans; his pierced cock finding that spot inside of you that turns you into nothing but a mindless hole.

Through your blurred vision you see Steve, tight acid-wash jeans pushed down as he fists his cock. His lips are parted, a rosy hue to his cheeks. Eddie bends you, until you’re face to face with Harrington’s third eye. You’re nearly salivating as a few pearls of pre-cum seep from his slit.

“Suck.” Steve’s hand finds your hair, grabbing a fist full of it. Fingers twining through it tightly. He shoves his way into the warmth that is your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You moan around the thick flesh.

“Fuck, Stevie, I can feel you through her throat.” Eddie groans, his pace stuttering to a near crawl. His ring hand squeezes and you find yourself choking once more, causing all three of you to moan out into the night. Drool begins to dribble and pool and drip from your mouth, tracking down your chest. And soon enough, Steve is fucking into your mouth, a crude, wet, ‘guck, guck, guck’ coming from you.

Eddie smacks your ass once, than twice. You tighten around his dick. “You little pain slut. Like it when we mark you up, babe?” You mewl in response. Your body is enraptured, caught in the purgatory of pain and pleasure. The two men find a rhythm; in and out, in and out. “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” The metal head declares, and he does. Hard. His spend shooting into you, hot and thick. You scream around Steve’s cock as Eddie’s orgasm triggers your own. He grips you roughly, hands on hips, fingers digging into you hard enough to bruise.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Eddie had his hands on you and Steve with his in your hair, you would have collapsed. Your legs feeling like absolute jelly.

Steve rips you off his cock as Eddie takes a step back to admire his work, watching a mixture of his and your release trickles down your thighs. But you only have a moment to centre yourself before Steve is lifting you into his arms, hoisting you against the nearest tree trunk. You squeal, still so sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He almost folds you in half; the tops of your thighs squishing into your breasts. He lines himself up with your sopping entrance and plunges into you with a squelch.

Your eyes roll back as you scream to the high heavens for relief, but no one is listening.

You don’t even recognize the man in front of you as he picks up a punishing pace. He bites at your neck, the swells of your breasts, claiming you in the most animalistic fashion imaginable. His eyes are black, taken over by the feral need to come.

And all you can do is take it.

He comes in you with a guttural growl. So deep and so hot, you’re trying to push him away but he holds you fast, dumping his body weight against you. “Shh, baby, shh. I know it hurts. Take it all.”

Silence. All expect the panting breaths between the three of you. Steve holds you close for a moment longer, peppering much softer kisses all over your face and neck as he extracts him self, trying to distract you from the discomfort.

Eddie was by your side in an instant having already righted himself. He undid the cuffs, stuffing them haphazardly into a back pocket. He circles an arm around your waist as he awkwardly shimmies off his leather jacket to put over your shoulders. He presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering what a good girl you are for them.

The next thing you know, Steve has you in his arms in a bridal carry. Too dazed to speak, let alone walk, you snuggle against his chest, grateful for the warmth he and Eddie’s jacket provide. Cocooned by their scent, you find the heaviness of slumber rearing its ugly head.

And as the sun begins to creep its way into the night sky, making way for dawn, you vaguely wonder at the back of your head, how you got so lucky. Your two protectors keeping a watchful eye as sleep takes you into its depths.

#dd writes #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #stranger things fic #steddie x y/n #steddie x you #steddie/reader #steddie x reader #steddie smut #steddie #this is a day late #whoops #enjoy heathens

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watersdeep · 5 months

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It Happened One Summer...

A summer of yearning comes to a head one fateful night night in the hot springs.

Mark x Reader (gender neutral) | one shot | 3,307 words | E

alt title: i just wanted to write some smut

#coral island mark #mark coral island #coral island fanfiction #mark coral island fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #my writing #2nd person pov #smut #one shot #i quite enjoyed seeing mark in that speedo #here you go you heathens #come get y'alls juice

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aheathen-conceivably · 1 month

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A heathen out and about in the real world…except damn I missed my pixels.

#could also be titled #your local thirty something year old no longer has personal social media #so instead I spam you all with my vacation pics #because I fancy myself an aesthetic bitch or something #anywho apparently we now have a tag for #a heathen IRL #please enjoy 😌#and pixels coming soon I hope 😘

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qpenpals · 3 months

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you ever just eat a bagel and draw victorian fashion to emulate an au about your gay little minecraft people who might died

(part two coming at some point)

#the bagel was good though #i enjoyed it #my girlfriend got a strawberry bagel like a heathen #why would you put fruit on a bagel now i have competition #i’m sorry i’m so sorry #any ways i digress #qsmp #qsmpblr #tubbo #frubbo #qsmp tubbo #q!tubbo #qsmp shipping #qsmp art #qsmp fanart #tubbo fanart #acrylic markers #my art

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rxttenfish · 7 months

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Merfolk Relationship Hierarchy

Merfolk are hypersocial macropredators. This shouldn't be new information to anyone on my blog, but the sheer extent of merfolk sociability cannot be overstated. Their social nature is the entire reason they were able to become and specialize into macropredatory niches in the way that they have. Their close relatives, the leviathans, are an excellent example of what merfolk might have become if they didn't have their intense communal proclivities — being much more typical, expected examples of a secondarily aquatic large marine predator akin to marine reptiles of the past and whales of the present. Without their social bindings, merfolk might have entirely lost their hands for flippers, would lack their heightened connection to sound and language, and certainly wouldn't have shaped the ecosystems and the world they inhabit in the same way.

For this, merfolk relationships are complicated. They started as a way of forming a simple hunting group and handling life in large colonies, but as merfolk specialized further, so too did their relationships. More and more they focused on interpersonal politics and the complications of maintaining a large social group that was constantly evolving and shifting, which fostered the growth of their intelligence and sapience, which then led back even moreso into needing the ability to maintain and keep up with their relationships.

A merfolk in isolation is not a merfolk at all. While the exactness of this thought varies across their different cultures, it still holds true for all of them. On a literal level, merfolk can and do die of loneliness, their social needs as much of a requirement to them as the need for food or water. If you were to isolate a merfolk, to the point where they could not hear nor see anyone else, then they would endure a brutal one or two weeks, and then die. Every other need can be met, they can be otherwise entirely healthy, but without anyone else around, they cannot live.

On the more metaphorical level, a merfolk cannot exist solely on their own. Most merfolk cultures accept that the individual does not exist, and that there has to be some outside dialogue with other merfolk in order for them to even be alive. The self and identity are inherently plural to them, a multifaceted soul which exists in the bodies and lives of merfolk in a group, and which can't be broken down. Maintaining relationships and fostering them is as essential as feeding yourself, or feeding someone else.

For all of this, merfolk require much higher amounts of social interaction and connection. This is not to say that introverted merfolk do not exist, but they would be introverted by the measure of their fellow merfolk, and not by what humans might judge them to be. Much like how even the most introverted human could not endure the life of a solitary snake or spider, an introverted merfolk could not endure the life of an introverted human. Similarly, even an extroverted human could not compare against an extroverted merfolk.

Likewise, not every social interaction is the same to merfolk, and they maintain different emotional connections with different people, fulfilling a wider assortment of social needs. In fact, it is easiest to think of merfolk social structure as being like one large, interwoven, piece of lace, where each individual merfolk is represented by a single knot. They are all tied together into larger pieces, repeating patterns, all working together to create a singular, complex web of all the ways every merfolk is connected to every other merfolk.

For this, merfolk have different names for each different pattern, each different part at different scales and sizes. All are important, even if some are closer and tied nearer to the individual merfolk in question, and require greater maintenance to keep healthy.

These patterns and connections are, by far, what is most important to a merfolk. While merfolk are fully capable of experiencing platonic, familial, romantic, and sexual connections, it should be stated that this is not what the relationship hierarchy is based off of. They might be a part of that connection, but the connection itself and the place it occupies within the hierarchy is of far greater importance to a merfolk, to the extent that all else pales before it. Any point and connection within this web might be platonic, or familial, or romantic, but even a romantic connection to a merfolk might mean nothing against a platonic or familial connection if the latter outranks the former on their hierarchy of relationships.

Hence, from the smallest unit to the largest, this is (approximately) what the merfolk hierarchy of relationships looks like:

Yuu'itv + Ul’kiha

This can be thought of as the singular knot, as the individual merfolk themselves. This is what is most familiar to landfolk, as it typically does not refer to any more than one merfolk.

To the merfolk themselves, however, this is more theoretical and functional than a real part of their relationship hierarchy to be maintained. This is the building block of identity, the pieces which make up one true self, but pieces which are not as concerning or deserving of as much time as the selfhood itself.

The exception, as you might have noticed, is the inclusion of ul'kiha at this rung. Ul'kiha (in the common-technical language) is loosely translated as the water that runs through someone's gills, but in the plural. Less literally, it refers to a shared breath, a breathing as one. A shared body, in less flowery terms. Soulmates, in the easiest localization.

In short, an ul'kiha is another merfolk and individual who is so close to another merfolk that they are thought of as one person. A plural-becoming-singular, if you might. Other merfolk will treat two ul'kiha as the same person, talk to them as the same person, view their relationships to them as one person. It represents the tightest, closest bond any merfolk can have.

For this, ul'kiha are rare. Most merfolk will never take an ul'kiha in their lives, and for those that do, taking more than one is next to unheard of. Ul'kiha is, likewise, the only instance where a rung in the relationship hierarchy is solely romantic, and the only true crossover between the relationship hierarchy and humanity's views on relationships. While half of ul'kiha will refuse to take any other romantic partner, this is not comparable to marriage either, as the intensity of this connection could be thought of as codependent in a way that's natural for merfolk but doesn't occur in human relationships. While ul'kiha can split up, if one ul'kiha dies and the other doesn't, the living partner is expected to never take another ul'kiha again, and quite often the loss is enough to kill them too.

Miivt'ia

These are the first few knots the initial knot is tied to, and the first true rung on the relationship hierarchy.

In a sense, the miivt'ia is a merfolk's inner circle. These are the people who they are closest to in their lives, who they have a unique and potent bond with. A miivt'ia, likewise, is a group which is exclusive to itself, and all the members of a miivt'ia will feel the same way about each other, and count themselves in each other's miivt'ia.

The closest example we might have to what a miivt'ia is would be the concept of a friend polycule. None of the members inside a miivt'ia are exclusively platonic, familial, romantic, nor sexual with each other, but they have a tight and exclusive bond which is solely shared amongst each other. In fact, each member of the miivt'ia might feel differently about every other member of the miivt'ia and have their own, unique dynamic with every other member, but all are united in the closeness given by being members of the miivt'ia.

Miivt'ia are often formed right as a merfolk is first growing up. Family members can be included in the miivt'ia, but not always, and those included are almost always siblings, cousins, or others who are similarly close in age. Childhood friendships that begin to deepen often become a part of the miivt'ia, as are the most serious of relationships. However, miivt'ia can also be created outside of these formative years, and there are many miivt'ia that essentially act like guilds or a "family" business, being closer than mere coworkers but sharing the same job.

Miivt'ia are the people with whom a merfolk has near-constant contact with. They are expected to live together, and often will share the same job, or similar jobs. All of their personal belongings are considered as belonging to the miivt'ia over any individual, and legally the miivt'ia is the individual upon which laws apply to. A merfolk without a miivt'ia is effectively homeless, and spiritually merfolk consider the miivt'ia to be the soul. Merfolk that go through the Coral Festival (Habp'll pl'qe ane'jhe Oikahj) will go through it together with their miivt'ia. Any children the miivt'ia has or adopts is considered the child of everyone else in the miivt'ia, the members all acting as parents and considering themselves equally as responsible in the care for that child. Miivt'ia are not only expected to be constantly in contact with each other and to participate in everything together, but they are expected to care equally about every other member of the miivt'ia and to feel each other's emotions as one.

For all of this, merfolk are highly loyal to their miivt'ia and will defend the members of their miivt'ia with their life. Any threat to any other member of the miivt'ia is considered a direct threat to all other members and to the individual merfolk's lives, and the loss of any member of the miivt'ia is mourned by all others to the highest degree.

There is a lot of responsibility placed upon those included in the miivt'ia, but the miivt'ia also has an emotional closeness and intimacy that isn't shared by any other merfolk in the relationship hierarchy (except the ul'kiha, see above). Being too overtly close and intimate with a merfolk can be seen as not respecting the miivt'ia and be seen as a threat to the security of the miivt'ia. Likewise, if someone wishes to join a miivt'ia, they will often endure a "courting" phase with all the members of the miivt'ia, where they attempt to forge connections equally as close to and intimate with every other member.

Dhe'jny'p usae

If the miivt'ia was the smallest initial pattern any relationship can have in the larger weave, then the dhe'jny'p usae is the actual shape of that pattern, when something becomes not just an oval, but a petal on a flower.

Dhe'jny'p usae, in common-technical language, is closest translated to "drift family". Humans might recognize the dhe'jny'p usae as being something similar to friends. They are not as close as the miivt'ia, but they might represent the next nearest thing, being a close emotional connection with associated responsibilities. The dhe'jny'p usae would be the closest other miivt'ia to the existing miivt'ia, acting as neighbors or close-knit family. If the miivt'ia had children, then they would be expected to provide care and look after those children alongside their own, and would cycle wider, communal responsibilities with the miivt'ia. Miivt'ia and members of the miivt'ia would hang out with and spend a lot of time with their dhe'jny'p usae, and this forms the base of wider merfolk sociability.

While the dhe'jny'p usae would be excluded from the private, domestic matters of the miivt'ia, they might still be gone to for emotional reassurance, or to simply have someone to talk to. Dhe'jny'p usae are expected to help in providing food for each other, and will switch out communal duties that require a layer of intimacy with each other, and legally are considered very similar entities. While they wouldn't share all personal belongings like the miivt'ia, they might share what counts for money, and be responsible for dividing it up among themselves. Dhe'jny'p usae, likewise, might live together in larger communal houses and share chores among themselves, but this might be considered closer to the individual members of a household, and its not as intensely expected for them to live together as the miivt'ia.

Dhe'jny'p usae are likewise the most common place to find what we might think of as typical merfolk romantic relationships. Dhe'jny'p usae more easily come and go, leaving and entering a merfolk's life, not solely remaining there for life like the miivt'ia, and for that, it's not uncommon for merfolk to have romantic and sexual relationships with their dhe'jny'p usae.

Faa'nek hus'llu

If the dhe'jny'p usae were the equivalent to people living in the same house, the faa'nek hus'llu is closer to the neighbors. These are acquaintances, support-friends, those that they are close to, though they maintain a degree of separation. If the dhe'jny'p usae was a flower, then this is the daisy chain, the interlocking patterns which form a distinct function.

More than anything else, the faa'nek hus'llu can be thought of as the connective tissue. They bridge the gap between the intensely bound and closely connected dhe'jny'p usae and miivt'ia, and the wider social community of merfolk. They do not bear the brunt of the emotional responsibility and are free to come and go in any merfolk's life as they please, but there is still a degree of familiarity here, a sense of belonging. While dhe'jny'p usae might live in the same communal house, faa'nek hus'llu live in the same town, neighborhood, community. The responsibilities they bear are far more physical, often serving as shifting turns for communal guard or repair duties, ensuring that everyone gets their turn taking care of everyone else.

The downside is that faa'nek hus'llu enjoy far less emotional connection and intimacy. What is shared and offered is far more obvious and physical, and far less detailed than that which other, closer relationships would receive. They might know someone is tired, and they might know someone is in grief after losing a member of their miivt'ia, but they wouldn't be able to navigate the emotional complexity beneath that. Trying to do so can be seen as a threat, either to your own dhe'jny'p usae and miivt'ia, or to theirs, demanding familiarity which has not been earned nor received.

A'antiu Muur'l

This is the far end of any merfolk's immediate social connections. The a'antiu muur'l is not merely the knot, nor the petal, nor the flower, nor the daisy chain, but the sides of the lace itself, the largest part that fits together with all others.

This is the community as a whole. It is a town, a city, a city-block, more of a legal entity than a social one but a social one nonetheless. The a'antiu muur'l is far more location-based than the other rungs on the relationship hierarchy, and merfolk only truly change their a'antiu muur'l with a change of physical location. The a'antiu muur'l is the community from which community names are given, and the a'antiu muur'l is to the commonfolk what a royal lineage is to a royal.

The a'antiu muur'l in common-technical best translates to "song family", and to a merfolk, this is because it is intended to include everyone that a single merfolk might hear at any given time. They are strangers to the individual merfolk, sure, but they are all singing together and speaking at the same time, and working to build the same song together to flesh out life and the place in which they live, so there is a degree of emotional connection. It is abstracted emotional connection, yes, but it is emotional connection all the same.

Merfolk might even include physical landmarks as part of their a'antiu muur'l, such as in the case of their singing buildings, or for a particularly endearing local landmark. This can include a large reef, or mountain, or entire mountain range, but so too can it include the one weird shady area where all the kids hang out that the adults don't want them near.

Ghray Uw'ghta Faahl

In common-technical language, the ghray uw'ghta faahl means "all-body". It is far more theoretical than the others, being spoken of to promote a sense of universal connection, but is not something that's quite so easily envisioned in turn.

In essence, the ghray uw'ghta faahl refers to all merfolk. All of their connections, each a'antiu muur'l, each faa'nek hus'llu, each dhe'jny'p usae, each miivt'ia, and each yuu'itv. Each and every merfolk is included, down through time, because each and every merfolk has had an emotional connection, and thus each and every merfolk fits into the ghray uw'ghta faahl.

Thus, the responsibilities here are far more abstracted, and far more represent the responsibilities all merfolk have to each other. This includes their hospitality culture, yes, but far moreso it includes a sense a dignity and a need to recognize that each merfolk has someone else and belongs somewhere within the ghray uw'ghta faahl. It's a source of recognition, and of community, and of understanding.

How much it actually fulfills that role, as ever, varies, but the thought and theory and gesture is still there, all the same.

#all the care guide says is 'biomass'#monster prom #miranda vanderbilt #bellanda vanderbilt #monster camp #monster roadtrip #reposting over on this blog and polishing it up to go in the tags #god ive been putting this off for. so long. sosososo long.#the wip for this post is over a year old and ive had everything for SO much longer too #enjoy your lore you heathens #now you see why miranda has the dispossession of a traumatized parrot. now you see.#im hoping the formatting isnt rent asunder because dear LORD i hate the new post editor #its so BAD. it keeps deselecting shit or randomly deciding not to format something #hell on earth

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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" he would not fucking say that" actually, he would. wanna know why?? cause fictional characters are objects of enjoyment, not attachment, sugar lips

#i mean this mostly as a joke but!! i actually am a bit :/// @ people who put others down for not sticking to canon religiously #like 'everything i've ever written has been in canon. i never indulge in anything and I act like I'm writing this for a living'#and it's like?? i mean congrats? do you think the creators of the media you're enjoying are gonna give you an A+ for holding back #creative interpretation like us fanon heathens?? cause it's not the case babes lmao. you just come across as mean and stuck up #and i'm not saying preffering canon over fanon is an issue #i'm just saying it's rude to put down other people for doing what we're here to do: enjoy ourselves.#do it your way and let them do theirs. thinking you're above everybody is gonna hurt when you fall #text #text post

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lightningandfireinmybones · 1 year

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don’t know if you’re still taking requests for prompts but is possible can the audience get 14, 15, 36, 46, 54 all in one. thank you so much for all the wonderful writing you’ve blessed us with so far btw 🥺❤️.

HELLO MY LOVE I WASN'T IGNORING YOU I WAS JUST FINISHING UP CHAPTER 20 BUT HERE WE GOOOOOOOOO

“i want to taste you” & “open your mouth” & “you’re mine” & “you feels so good” & “don’t forget who you belong to”

(18+ !!!!!

horny jail bc we're leaning into the uncle thing in an au where it's not normalized for targs,,, you've been warned and my ticket to every religion's hell has been booked in advance so no need to remind me)

"Aemond! What the fuck-"

"Don't," Aemond hisses, continuing to drag Valaena down the hallway, the sounds of the party dying behind them the deeper into the house they go.

"Don't what? Don't object to being manhandled out of my brother's birthday?" Valaena aims a kick at Aemond's groin, one he avoids by throwing her into her darkened bedroom.

"Don't," Aemond grits out, following her in and slamming the door shut behind him, "dance with another man like that in front of me."

In the purple glow of the LEDs surrounding her bed, Aemond can see Valaena cross her arms over her chest, just accentuating the swell of her breasts over the edge of the corset top he loves and hates at once. The second he'd walked into Jace's birthday party to see Valaena dressed in a tight black and gold corset with leather pants molded to the curve of her ass, he should've known the night would bring nothing but trouble.

Seeing her grind with Cregan, Jace's best friend, on the makeshift dancefloor had tested his patience until he'd finally snapped and dragged her away.

"Oh?" Valaena arches a brow at him, accentuating the scar on her face, the one he'd given her. "Don't grind my ass against another man's dick? What, would it be okay if I ground my ass against a woman then?"

"Don't let anyone else touch that body. That ass is mine." Aemond leans against the door, blocking her way out, staring down at her as he breathes through the last of his patience.

"We're not together anymore, Aemond! You left me, remember? I can dance with whoever I want!" Valaena storms closer, teetering in the heels she's wearing, slamming her finger into the center of Aemond's chest.

"Valaena. You're mine. You always have been and you always will be," Aemond declares, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around, slamming her back against the door. He pins her wrists above her head in one hand, slots his knee between her legs, right in the cradle of warmth between her thighs. Every rational thought, every sense of self-preservation deserting him at the jealousy coursing through his veins.

"You said you were my uncle, just my uncle," Valaena pants out, her hips flush against his. "A good uncle doesn't rub his thigh against his niece like this."

"A good uncle doesn't do a lot of things," Aemond trails his hand up her side, ghosting over her breasts, just grazing her collarbones, caressing her neck. "But you're not a very good little niece, are you? Good nieces don't dress like this to tempt their uncle. Good nieces don't rub their needy little pussy on their uncle's thigh."

He tightens his grip on her throat. Giving into temptation, he licks the glitter from the elegant column of her neck.

"Tell me to stop," Aemond nips at the racing thump of her pulse. "Tell me you don't want me."

Instead of restoring sanity to them both, Valaena moans his name.

"Kepus," she says breathily, "I want to taste you."

The words are knives to the last shreds of his self-control.

In one motion, he's pushing her down to her knees, gripping her hair in his hands as he forces her chin up to look at her. Lavender eyes glitter at him, a flush working down her chest, the dark edge of a nipple poking over the edge of the corset.

"Open your mouth," Aemond says darkly.

Valaena obeys nearly instantly, lush lips parting and pink tongue poking out like she's waiting for him. Her hands are scrabbling at his hips, the metallic clang of his belt buckle the only sound in the room above their harsh breathing and the distant thud of a rap song's bass.

His cock springs free, Valaena's tongue darting out to lick at the head like it's a lollypop, big eyes on him the whole time.

He pulls the hair in his hand harshly, tugging hard enough to jerk her head back.

"No teasing. You want your uncle to fuck your mouth? Fine. Take it, Sweet Niece."

Without warning, Aemond thrusts forward, his cock disappearing deep into Valaena's mouth. She chokes nearly immediately, hands coming to clutch his thighs for stabilization. He doesn't give her any time to adjust, ruthlessly taking her mouth for his own.

Guilt doesn't exist. Time doesn't exist. The way her father is going to kill them both doesn't exist.

The only thing that is real, that is true, is the warmth of her mouth, the tears gathering in the corner of Valaena's eyes, the flick of her tongue across the head of his cock when he pulls out.

"You feel so good, taking my cock so well," Aemond groans, pushing her head deeper onto him. "You wanted your uncle's cock in your mouth? You wanted to be a dirty little whore for me, on your knees and loving every second of it?"

Valaena moans around him, the vibrations traveling up his spine to lodge in his brain. She loves this. She danced with Cregan to start this.

Fuck. They'd never escape each other.

He is unforgiving, but she takes every inch of him, choking and gagging around the thick length. It is heaven, it is hell, it is every condemnation they deserve mixed with absolution they do not.

With his fingers digging into the back of her neck, Aemond comes with a cry of her name.

Every drop, every spurt down her throat, she takes, swallowing with fervor, sucking him for all he's worth. It spills out of her mouth, her tongue following, an obscene scene dragging him down.

When he can finally bear to part from her, he pulls himself out of her mouth, crouching down to her level. Mascara tracks run down her cheeks, her lips are swollen from the abuse, but her eyes are bright. Happy.

Aemond runs his thumb over her lip, catching a stray drop of his cum. He pushes his thumb past her lips, into the sweetness of her mouth.

"Don't forget who you belong to, Sweet Niece."

#i leaned into the uncle thing #might as well enjoy the ride if i'm going to hell #enjoy you heathens:')#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #tdopom fic #ask #minors dni

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