Most societies have certain mores that are unspoken rules; humanity itself even has such conventions, grilled subconsciously into our minds for our own safety. Don't go out alone at night. Avoid getting wet when it's cold. Don't pick fights with those stronger than you...okay, some of us missed the boat on the last one, but the point still stands. Society's rules tend to be more variable, though they apply to most aspects of life - including sex. In fact, bending the rules on what's considered acceptable in romance and sexual encounters can lead to anything from ostracization to death, depending on the time and culture.
So, play it close to the chest if you're going to do a big, big, big t a b o o. Is it worth the risk?
- Comment with your character and preferences. Be sure to include what you want and what you DON'T WANT. Blank comments are fine; info is even better!
- Reply to others.
- Be fun and respect others, as this will deal with some heavy topics and potentially triggering material s.
A G E ( DIFFERENCE ) - light of my life, fire of my loins. you're supposed to stick to those your own age, but you can't resist.
I N C E S T - you're of the same blood, yet something draws you together. you'll keep your secret thicker than water.
C H E A T I N G - when you were young, they should have taught you to not take things that belong to other people.
I N ( PUBLIC ) - to involve unsuspecting others in your sex is insidious, but you can't resist it.
S U P E R F L U O U S - some conservative societies view sex outside procreational purposes as taboo. that means anal, oral, and toys are all no-go.
F I X A T I O N - you're nearly obsessed with one part of your partner - breasts, ass, lips...whatever the case may be, you always focus on that.
D E V I A N C Y ( IN SUBURBIA ) - there are some things that should be sacred. the home should be one of those. should.
S I Z E - pick on someone your own size. couples with large size difference, be it height or weight, can be looked down upon; don't let that get you down.
P H O B I A - unfortunately, in some societies, being with someone of the same gender is a taboo, no matter how much progress the modern world has made.
F E T I S H - some just can't get off without their fetish, and the varieties run the gamut: feet, crossdressing, autoerotic asphyxiation, foodplay, bondage...it goes on and on.
U N E X P E C T E D ( DOMINATION/SUBMISSION ) - the masculine must be dominant. the feminine must be submissive. what if you're dominant in life, though, and just want to be submissive in the bedroom.
V I O L E N T - more than mere lover's spats, what goes on between you two is dangerous. if people knew, they'd be horrified. still, you can't stop.
F O R B I D D E N ( LOVE ) - your relationship may be taboo, but there's genuine love in your copulation. this isn't merely a thrill.
L O O S E - monogamy isn't what you're after. no matter how looked down upon it is, you're going to have fun while you can.
S T U D E N T / T E A C H E R - what goes on between the sheets is not an appropriate subject matter to teach. there's so much to lose; is it a smart game to play?
A U T H O R I T Y - perhaps they're the boss, the president, the king, but you, you're a lowly peon. are they using their powers over you or is this something you both want?
I N T E R S P E C I E S - kind finds kind, and don't you be a traitor by being with one of them.
B E S T I A L I T Y - one of the most primal taboos. will you go into that moral wilderness?
S O C I A L ( CLASS ) - the rich. the poor. it's like they're in two different worlds. what will the uppercrust say if they saw their golden child with a tramp?
C E L I B A C Y - you are supposed to keep your chastity, but things are never that easy.
S T O C K H O L M - prisoners should never fall for their guards.
D U T I E S - whether it be saving the world or being the world's best bodyguard, your sworn quest and purpose keeps you from enjoying the sins of the flesh - especially with your charges.
I N N O C E N C E - one of you is much more worldly, and to ruin the "innocence" of the other feels unclean.
F E R T I L E - you aren't supposed to find mothers or fathers sexually alluring. however, there's something so enticing about fertility...perhaps even pregnancy.
C O R R U P T I O N - society expects you to treat your partner well, not try to destroy them through sexual degradation.
N O N C O N S E N S U A L - consent is rightfully important to a healthy sexual relationship. to break that trust is taboo. |
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dreamlocket) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2020-05-10 07:10 am
Loki | mcu | ota
Tony Stark | mcu | ota
Elias Ainsworth // Ancient Magus Bride // OTA18+
ben k̶y̶l̶o̶ ̶r̶e̶n̶ solo. STAR☆WARS. ota
Richie Tozier | It
Sansa Stark | GoT | ota
Daenerys Stormborn | GoT / ASOIF
Claire Bennet ∞ NBC's Heroes ∞ OTA
Makoto Kino | Sailor Moon | F/M
geralt of rivia | witcher netflix
Sansa Stark | Game of Thrones
Ivar "the Boneless" Ragnarsson | Vikings | M/F
akira kurusu | persona 5 | ota
Joker | DCU/Suicide Squad
Yennefer » The Witcher » OTA
akemi morishita | original | m/m
no subject
no subject
“Runa!” He called out as he entered the living space, his crutches making his movement staggered as he approached the bed. “I have returned.” He announced before lowering his voice, “And I need you.” She would be the only one to know what that means.
[ooc- nah she doesn’t need to call him daddy. It works just fine if she still sees him as her brother. :) ]
Aisha al-Fadhil | The Losers | OTA? usually M/F but let's talk about it
no subject
Gabriel Reyes // Overwatch // OTA25+
Open to these:
-Age (he's in his late 40s/early 50s)
-Pubic (on the shuttle after a mission, on a train, meh not picky)
-Size (He's not huge so more geared towards like a Reinhardt in height)
-Authority? (he's the Blackwatch commander so he's pretty much top dog on the base)
-Interspecies (no furries or bestiality though)
When in doubt? Poke me, I'm all ears!]
no subject
Jaskier dimly remembers his sister teaching him the rhyme in childhood, after a rough day which his tiny classmates had spent working up some fine new slurs for him.
It was bullshit then, it's bullshit now. The right words, carefully aimed, sting like a bitch. Tonight, though, running from a muddy little village under cover of darkness, projectiles flung at his back, the names aren't being cast his way. They're thrown at a man he's just a few steps behind.
Beast!
Bloody monster, get out.
Worse than the creatures you hunt, Witcher.
Monster. Witcher. Monster!
Jaskier stoops to scoop up one of the not-too-rotten potatoes that almost knocked him out, and shoves it into his waistband, gasping to catch his breath.]
I don't think they can have heard my song.
[He makes a brief dash to catch Geralt up before stopping, gasping for air again.]
Although... it's a long way to the nearest decent inn. Maybe I should go back and try them on a few of the better verses.
no subject
Most people, upon noticing his snow-white hair, his too-sharp teeth, his cat-like eyes, give him a wide berth at best. He's never had someone plonk themselves down at his table when he dares venture into an inn for a hot meal, he's never had someone look into his eyes without flinching, he's never had someone decide (totally without his input, thank you) that they were going to be his barker, going to follow him to the ends of the earth and do their damndest to change public opinion about him.
It's a ridiculous crusade, one Geralt didn't ask for, and despite the myriad times he's told the bard to piss off, he still doggedly follows in Geralt's wake wherever he goes, plucking at that damned lute of his.
He can't admit it, even to himself, but Geralt has slowly grown used to the human's presence beside him, to the sound of his heartbeat, to the smell of his sweat, to his endless complaining.
Badly suppressing a growl, he turns and grabs for the bard's arm, his grip probably too tight for the poor human's fragile body as he drags him down the road away from the village that gave them such a poor welcome. ]
Stop dawdling, lest you want them to trade their vegetables for rocks.
[ This isn't the first backwater hamlet Geralt has been stoned out of, and it won't be the last. At least this time they're only using rotten produce and not anything that could actually hurt. ]
no subject
[The ouuuup is a cry that echoes back to their persecutors, as the villagers smugly watch the monstrous witcher they so fear all but tucking an innocent young man under his arm and dragging him off to some unspeakable fate. All that he deserves for mixing in bad company.
Well, forget them and their warm food and warm beds and basic self preservation instincts. Jaskier needs none of these things. He barely needs functioning feet or, apparently, an arm still attached to the side of his body, given the way Geralt's transporting him at a pace he was never designed for. Bards strut and strum, they don't flee.
still, this is the manner in which they make it a good way down the road out of town, and to a spot where the trees thin out a little and the bushes start looking vaguely comfortable to road weary travellers in the dark. To Jaskier, at any rate.]
You can unhand me now, Geralt. Your elbow's pushing my lute somewhere quite uncomfortable and I'd rather not have to rework all my songs to fit a falsetto. [He puts his hand over Geralt's, and lets himself believe it's his effort and not Geralt's choice if it's removed. As always there's the faintest tickle of something not-quite-nervous in the deepest part of him as he touches Geralt. His too-pale skin, his corded muscle just under it, his impossible strength running through that. Jaskier's not afraid of him, but some base element inside him knows which of them should be hunted and which the hunter.
Perhaps it's this thought that makes him go on.]
I don't understand why we have to leave. It just makes it look as though what they're saying is true, when the truth is you could have the whole town cold before I made it through a refrain of the Lusty Lass of Larvik if you wanted to.
[To Jaskier, the choice not to is what sets Geralt apart from what they're calling him. To the villagers left behind, it's what makes him as much a thing to be feared as any of the beasts he hunts.]
Kell Maresh | Shades of Magic | OTA
Josie Saltzman ( Legacies )
Gar Logan | Titans
Aiden | The Originals | m/m
Sam Eliot | The Society | m/m
Angel Evangelista ( Pose ) m/f
Ben Hargreeves | The Umbrella Academy | m/m
no subject
“You tell me,” he takes her hand and brings it to his growing bulge that strains the leather of his pants.m. His mouth produces a knowing smirk, eyes locked onto hers to communicate his need. “I’ve awaited your mouth the entire venture to Kattegat.” His eyes fall to her lips but his own hand goes to grope her breasts that feel fuller than usual, bringing him to give one an extra squeeze. “On your knees,” he exhales. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”
no subject
Crowley | Good Omens
no subject
The urge to sink his teeth into the soft skin hidden by ruffled cuffs or collar is one he's grown used to ignoring, but sometimes it's closer to the surface than usual.
He drops Jaskier's arm and snorts, turning his head away to hide the grimace that he can't quite control. ]
Yes, a brilliant idea. Butcher another village just because some idiot peasant called me a few names. They'll definitely change their tune if I murder anyone who displeases me.
[ The names hurled at him have become so commonplace that he has grown numb to them. It doesn't matter what some ignorant farmer calls him, what they think of him, that they believe he has no soul, or that he sold himself to the witchers, or that he chose to be experimented on, mutated, remade into the creature that he is.
He was human, once. He can almost remember it.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he steps off the beaten path, searching for a place to make camp for the night. The bard will follow him eventually. He always does. ]
squalo // khr!
[ down for anything except fertility prompt. nonconsensual unlikely and probably nonsexual, but you can ask. ]
[ for interspecies/bestiality i could au him into a mermaid, a demon, a shapeshifting familiar, seelie, some other magic creature etc or he could be the human of the two, would prefer the "beast" to still have a human form or features ]
no subject
With her on her knees servicing him, he did relax and lean back to be propped up by elbows on the bed. “I would travel much farther for your mouth than you know.” He said as he wet his lips. His hard cock contacting her hot mouth made him exhale. His eyes would return to her and watch her work his sex with a passion as if she were starved for it. His hand went to her hair to guide her to a pace he desired.
“You love what I do to you.” He tells her, his tongue running over his top teeth. “Tell me you touched yourself when I was away thinking of the taste of my cock.” His hips rolled upward to thrust more of his length towards her tight throat.
no subject
[The weight of the word sits heavily on the first syllable, Jaskier's exasperation clear despite the fact he's all but panting. He stops, feet planted, hands on hips, watching the Witcher vanish into the trees.
He'll only have to trot to catch up in a moment, but lectures just don't sound right when you're running after someone.]
I mean cold as in out cold. Knocked clean out. The wind whistling between their empty ears. If I ever actually suggest you massacre a small town please do take a moment to check a shapeshifter isn't walking about with my corpse. You didn't butcher the last one, did you?
[Now he trots forward - because yes, he always does follow.]
Did you? I can't say I've heard the full story but I do remember the corrective bruise when I referenced it. All I'm saying is, if people are going to be frightened of you, perhaps you could stand to use it to your advantage sometimes. What's the point in being terrifying otherwise?
[And he is terrifying. Jaskier, who leaps sideways when a tree they're passing happens to be peopled by a nasty looking bug, inexplicably refuses to be terrified, but he can admit that all his senses disagree. He can admit, too, that it's enticing in its way. That sometimes he sits across a campfire from Geralt and wants to beg to be allowed to touch.
He's one of those fools who put their heads in the mouths of big cats in circus displays. One day his wolf will snap its jaws shut.]
no subject
It hadn't occurred to him that that's what Jaskier meant, that he hadn't automatically assumed that Geralt would solve all his problems by simply massacring another settlement when he got angry enough to contemplate violence.
Embarrassed, he just grunts at him and continues to walk away, his shoulders hunching despite his efforts at remaining stoic, not wanting to have this conversation at all. Life was easier when he didn't have to mimic humanity like a performing monkey, when he could allow himself to snarl out his frustrations when things went so very badly, when the small little hurts he suffered day after day piled up upon each other until they became an unbearable weight that needed banishing somehow. Usually, he would take himself out into the woods somewhere and destroy something, blunting his swords on hapless trees and shrubbery, and then spend the rest of the night rubbing his whetstone patiently over the blades, undoing the damage he had wrought.
It was never quite enough, but it had been just enough to let him continue, and he did it all in perfect silence.
Of course, Jaskier being who he is, he continues talking.
Geralt does his best to ignore him, stalking through the trees towards the sound of running water, the smell lingering in the air telling him that there was a spring nearby, with water clean enough for a human to drink. It's difficult, though — not forging a path, that's easier than breathing, but rather ignoring Jaskier — since he keeps harping on about fucking Blaviken, and despite Geralt's inner resolve to keep his damn mouth shut and to never speak of it again, he finds himself stopping on the edge of the clearing, the leather of his gloves creaking ominously as he curls his hands into fists. ]
No. [ No, he doesn't want to talk about this? No, he's not going to hit him again? No, he doesn't want to use his reputation to his own benefit? ]
I didn't. But ten dead mercenaries doesn't make nearly as compelling a story as slaughtered villagers do, and people like to hear lies they already want to believe. [ He's grown used to it. He has. It barely bothers him any more. It doesn't. ]
no subject
“I found ways to relieve myself,” he insinuated. He was a grown Viking after all so when it came to pillaging, certain things were expected. “But I thought of you-“ her choking on him made the words escape him. It felt so intoxicating that he had to grab at her hair and pull her away.
“Show me how slick you are.” He ordered her, hiding that he was close to climax with how attentive she was when she serviced him like that. It was overwhelming and often times it got the job done so that he would have release. However, this time he felt ready to take her body and truly claim it. They were growing older now and it would be a matter of time before some other man came along wanting to, Ivar just wanted to be the first before such a thing happened. “Spread your legs or bend over and present it to me.”