#gunpowder and silk

[saym0-0]

i think tim's gender expression directly correlates to formality level, like for just hanging out or shows stuff like that (because mechs shows are not high society 💀) hes masc the way we see him in. yk. canon. but fancier events she gets way more femme, all silk dresses and the like. you wont see her hanging around the ship in a skirt or at a fancy ball in a suit yk.

[donamarocas]

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[yeyinde]

preacher's daughter (Ethel Cain inspired) and biker Ghost would go so hard. all that corruption, religious trauma/catholic guilt, and small town gothic misery, you know?

sheltered daughter meets violence personified. the devil and the sacrificial lamb. you meet him when you wander up to the motorcycle club on the outskirts of town with a pamphlet about salvation clutched in your trembling hands. he leans his big, intimidating frame against the door jamb, and with his arms crossed over his broad chest, says must be good on your knees, aren't you, birdie?

(you answer with an earnest yes, sir, i worship on my knees everyday and pretend the heat that flares in your belly when he groans is from the too-hot sun; the first of many sins.)

later that evening, your daddy tells you that he's an honest and good man, but sometimes he prays that God strikes that vile place right down. you bite your tongue and nod, but sneak out at night and meet him there where you slip into silk lingerie and dance on stage just for him. he tells every man there that if he catches them staring at you, he'll stab them in the eyes, and you think it's the most romantic thing you'd ever heard.

it's love letters carved into the sunbleached bones of a half-submerged deer left to rot in the stagnant bog just outside of the abandoned white chapel. something watches you from the dark stained glass windows as he runs his tattooed fingers over your skin, leaving smears of gunpowder and soot.

(someone set the old man's car on fire—the who leered at you while you stood in the choir, wearing your lily white dress and sang glory be while you tried to forget what those tattooed hands felt like when they slipped under your skirt and between your thighs.

the old man was still inside—)

they call him a ghost. a demon. you call him Simon and daydream during bible study that you'll run away together. hop on the back of his old Harley and forget this place ever existed.

a daydream that quickly turns into a nightmare when your sordid relationship comes to light, and your daddy threatens to have him locked away for good. there's a gun in the safe upstairs. you think about the time Simon dragged you into the woods to shoot at cans and lose your faith under the sweltering sun when you pull the trigger.

"for us," you tell him, breathing in the dank church air ripe with sin and the stench of blood. "i did it for us."

it's leaning on the back of his Harley with your fingers threaded around his thick waist as the town grows smaller and smaller in the distance. staring up at the endless blue sky and grinning wide because you finally got your monster of a man wrapped around your finger.

(and all it took was a little deal made with the thing that lives in the abandoned church.)

[dmitriene]

ending up on john's price desk instead of leaving early for an undercover mission, it's your dress, he rasps out against your warm ears, engorged, thick cock pumping steadily in your dripping cunt, hips grinding, dragging back and plunging in again, silk fabric raked up from his previous touch, exposing the plain view of your plump ass bouncing up, panties dangling at your thighs, soaking with your dripping slick.

you were supposed to go, collect some information and come back, the more early the better, but not with john's cock tenting in his cargos at the sight of your curves hugged so good, every angle and plane visible, calling for his touch, and the pretty, easy smile you shoot him was enough for him to drag you into his quarters, kissing down your neck greedily.

turning you into the mess, styled hair is a haphazard mess, brushed off your face by his calloused palm, the gloss from your lips smudging itself against his fingers, as he collects the small drops of drool that collect at the corners of your mouth, hitched, strangled moans silenced by john's palm while he pounds in your aching, drenched cunt, walls tightening with a rapid spasms, oozing in rilvulets around his rutting, veiny girth.

you feel the coarse hairs and dusted scars on his fingers as he silences you, the smell of grime and gunpowder clinging to him, something rich, musk and cigar smoke that penetrates your nose and mind, clogging your already muddled head, cottony to the point where you just scrape your nails against his desk and squirm your hips to meet the punctured thrusts of his cock that smother you down.

accepting the burn of him inside of you, scorching your veins hot as you throb and yield under john's weight, heavy chest pressed against your curved spine, twitching at the suffocating smell of him and the stretch that keeps warming your sappy hole until it's scalds you, making you jolt and press in the cold desk beneath you with a muffled shout, cum spurting from your clamping hole as he fills you up, painting your insides.

you'd have to continue your job with soaked panties and disheveled look, no one would ask, john reassures you heavily while fixing your dress, a wet kiss to your temple, even if you'll walk with your thighs squeezing, cum dribbling and soaking your sodden underwear with frothy droplets, drying uncomfortably, but the job need to be done, and he promised you a small gift if you'll make it clear.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Impatience

Time Written- 5:57 a.m

Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (yes, the helmet comes off)

His modulated rasps vertebrates along your back, fully plated muscles pressed firmly along against backbone, becoming the hard wall compared the soft mattress you were trapped against.

“How’s it feel, pretty girl? Feel good, huh? Fuuuck, thought of this pretty little pussy since the second I left. Just can’t help myself.”

Euphoric drops refused to stop trailing down your cheeks, blinding your vision from the silk pillow that caught most of your tears.

Six years ago, the idea of him using you as such erratic, heavily erotic stress relief would’ve made you wince with a furious blush.

You were enclosed in, too closed in to slip a hand down in between your sweaty body and the warm mattress to give your clit additional stimulation. Not that you particularly needed it.

His broad hips ground against your plush ass perfectly, heavy balls slapping against your sobbing cunt. The head of his dick perfectly brushing against your cervix nearly nonstop, drawing endless noises from your mouth, ranging from short yelps to loud, drawn out cries.

Red Hood; with a cock so good he knew just how to use it without even trying.

You didn’t go out to dinner the night before and have a man ogle at your choice of black slip dress, with thin silver chains for sleeves.

You didn’t stroll alongside Jason at a downtown Gotham park on a warm summer evening, catching attention via the faint sheen of sweat along your neck, decorating your faint show of cleavage from your tank top.

You most definitely didn’t rouse this man off the edge by your simple choice of sleepwear, a loose white shirt and a cherry, seductive red lace panty.

As if you didn’t purposely wear that for his viewing pleasure.

It wasn’t Jason being jealous, so to say. To put it politely, it was Jason being overbearing.

Chest nearly melted against your back, burly muscles keeping you trapped against soft cushion, his words contracting the brutality of his relentless pace.

“Please, baby,” he grunts, his modulated voice shooting firefly kisses along your skin. “Please, lemme use this pussy. Been a hard night.”

This could’ve happened after he dragged his heavy boots into a hot shower, but no. While he could’ve washed the night’s worth of sweat and grime off his body, yours was the only priority on his mind. All this beast of a man had done was pull grab you by your hips and adjust your body flat, yank himself free from his constrictive pants before stuffing his fat, aching cock between your thighs. His balls full and heavy after hours of aggravated patrol.

The grunt that rumbled through his modulated speaker forced a tingle of fresh slick to seep from your lips as he fucked your thighs, dampening that sexy underwear in seconds. A short chuckle followed after from feeling it, quickly filled out by another groan as he made do with hooking his finger through one of the lace flowers decorated along your ass, anchoring the hole large enough to fully rip the not so affordable fabric.

His gloved hands gripped hold of the back of your shirt collar, yanking the fabric apart in seconds, exposing your bare skin to the cool bedroom air. Scratchy, gloved hands rubbed along your over sensitive nipples before trailing downwards, quickly leaving muted fingerprints along your hips.

Four years of knowing him, one year of missing him, followed by another year of dating him, you knew very well by now that Jason wasn’t as patient as he presented and enforced himself to be.

No, especially not with you.

“Christ, that’s my good little girl, taking this dick like a champ.”

Devilish grunts against your freshly shampooed hair, his musk fully invading your senses as he straddles the back of your hips, bracing his dirty boots along your bedsheets as he fucks you like an expensive whore.

He drew climax after climax from you so very easily, catching your quivering cries in the palm of his gloved hand. Stale gunpowder filled your nose, his meaty forearm playing a rest to keep your head and neck supported.

You weren’t sure when exactly his helmet came off, never registering the dull thud of it carelessly tossed onto the pillow beside yours. Pale, milky eyes glared into yours, reminding you of the persona who’s hands crushed necks and broke bones, now using you as a pretty little cockslut he’d dote on for the rest of the morning after he’s positive you’re fully bred till sunrise.

He halts his persistent thrusting after your body settled into overstimulation, removing his palm to give you a chance to breathe. He didn’t completely stop, using his knees for leverage to grind his pelvis against you, the tip of his aching, perfectly angled cock brushing against all your sensitive spots perfectly.

His lightly stubbled cheek brushed against yours, his wet tongue licking the sickening saltiness of your sweat and tears, gutturally grunting from the lustful ambrosia your body provided him.

He makes a show of biting the tip of his gloved, middle finger out of the corner of your teary eye, spitting his glove off to the side before caressing your side, dipping his fingers underneath your stomach.

Just the slightest brush of his index finger against your long neglected clit made you buck your ass back against his hips, making Jason smirk at your involuntary, full bodied whimper.

“Think you got another one in ya, sweetheart?”

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: On Colour

Describing Colour in your Poetry and Stories

BLACK Shadow Black, Dusk, Midnight, Blackbird, Blackberry, Ebony, Black Honey, Darkness, Jet Black, Ink Black, Soot, Onyx, Licorice, Ivory Black, Pitch, Char, Gloom, Outer Space, Creosote Black, Melanite, Goth Black, Gunpowder

BLUE Blueberry, Sapphire Blue Metallic, Tiffany Blue (Pantone 1837), Cobalt Blue, Denim, Aquamarine, Turquoise, Sky Blue, Topaz, Ultramarine Blue, Azure, Cerulean, Oxford Blue, Periwinkle, Electric Blue, Baby Boy Blue, Pthalo Blue, Robin's Egg Blue, Persian Blue, Marino Blue, Prussian Blue

GREEN Leafy Green, Olive, Moss Green, Jade, Lime, Sour Apple Green, Emerald Green, Mint, Kiwi Green, Phthalo Green, Praying Mantis Green, Viridian, Greenback, Shamrock, Sap Green, Chartreuse, Sea Green, Pistachio, Teal, Bamboo, Sea Salt, Celadon Green, Celery, Asparagus Green, Fern Green, Neon Green, Jungle Green, Pear Green

ORANGE Pumpkin, Burnt Orange, Carrot, Sunset Orange, Tangerine, Persimmon, Salamander, Tennessee Orange (Pantone 151), Jack-o'-lantern Orange, Florida Orange, Summer Squash, Pale Daffodil, Smashed Pumpkin, Saffron, Autumn Orange, Macaroni and Cheese, Cadmium Orange

PINK Pink Flamingo, Neon Pink, Bubblegum Pink, Salmon, Peach, Fuscia, Cotton Candy Pink, Rose, Carnation, Thulian, Apricot, Atomic Pink, Barbie Pink, Hot Pink, Amaranth, Flushed, Glitter Pink

PURPLE Lavender, Purple Haze, Grape, Eggplant Purple, Plum, Violet, Orchid, Psychedelic Purple, Amethyst, Lilac, Boysenberry, Mulberry, Wisteria, Bruised Plum, Indigo, Mauve

RED Blood Red, Copper, Maroon, Strawberry, Watermelon Red, Crimson, Candy Apple Red, Tomato, Brick Red, Scarlet, Cardinal Red, Cherry, Ruby Red, Coral, Sunburn, Hot Lava, Cadmium Red, Auburn, Blush, Alizarin Crimson, Fire Engine Red, Raspberry, Vermillion, Lipstick, Burgundy, Magenta, English Vermilion, Mahogany

WHITE Dirty White, Albino, Chalk, Alabaster, Cotton, Titanium White, Vanilla, Bone White Egg Shell, Marshmallow, Ivory, Pearl White, Almond, Champagne, Blond, Cream, Milky White, Corn Silk, Bleach, Navajo White, Ghost White, Light, Cloud White

YELLOW Canary Yellow, Lemon, Banana, Egg Yolk Yellow, Mellow Yellow, Chanterelle, Mustard Yellow, Corn, Goldenrod, Amber, Pineapple, Metallic Gold, Cadmium Yellow, Wheat, Tuscan Sun, Butter, School Bus Yellow, Yellow Ochre, Citron, Dandelion

BROWN Mud Brown, Beaver, Caramel, Rust, Macaroon, Toasty Brown, Coffee, Sandy Tan, Cocoa, Honey, Chocolate, Burnt Sienna, Mocha, Seashell, Antique Brass, Bronze, Brown Sugar, Chestnut Brown, Taupe, Burnt Umber, Khaki, Dark Sienna, Light Chocolate, Sepia

GRAY Stone Gray, Ash, Metallic Silver, Platinum, Smoke, Concrete Gray, Mercury, Steel Gray, Mist, Titanium, Charcoal, Slate, Sterling Silver, Tungsten, Old Coin Gray, Iron Gray, Chrome, Magnesium, Overcast

MIXED Candy Cane (red and white), Zebra (black and white), Chameleon (many different colours), Ladybug (black and red), Wildfire (yellow, orange and red), Tiger (orange, black and white), Yellow Jacket (black and yellow), Christmas Lights (red, white and green), Rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet), Black Pepper (black and gray), Leopard (spotted gold and black), Creamsicle (orange and white), Candy Corn (orange and white), Iceberg (a bluish gray), Marbled

COLOURS: Symbolisms, Associations & Psychological Effects

Black. Especially in Gothic literature from the West, a black colour choice often represents death, evil, grief, and depression. Associated with fear, the unknown and often has a negative connotation. Black clothes can make you look thinner. A black background severely diminishes the readability of most type. Often the go to colour for funerals and grieving. It symbolizes stability and power, which gives a sense of authority. Thus, the black colour often represents professionalism and expertise.

Blue. Has positive and negative connotations in colour psychology. Some writers may use blue to represent serenity and tranquility, instilling a scene with a calming effect. Blue can also signify sadness, melancholy, or isolation. People who find someone very loyal and faithful are often called "true blue". Blue is often considered to be more masculine which is why it is often the colour of choice when choosing a suit. Lighter blues are associated with tranquility, softness and healing. Darker blues are associated with power, knowledge and seriousness. Blue is actually shown to suppress appetites a bit. The colour blue symbolizes wisdom and hope. It’s the colour of peace and confidence. Blue has been shown to reduce blood pressure and pulse rate. It fosters serenity and a sense of belonging.

Green. The colour green often symbolizes rebirth, growth, peace, jealousy, and greed. Green colours may also represent spring and renewal. It is a colour that is very easy on the eyes. Dark green is often associated with ambition. Green suggests stability, safety and hope. At the same time, it may denote a lack of experience in a particular field. Green symbolizes peace, growth, and nature. It is the colour of success, promoting healing and tranquility.

Orange. The colour orange often represents energy, excitement, joy, and creativity. Since orange is the colour of fire, it may also symbolize heat. Since orange is not as aggressive as red, it can actually stimulate brain activity. It is very useful to catch someone's attention, which is why it's used a lot to advertise food and toys.

Pink. The colour pink symbolizes love, kindness, femininity, innocence, and playfulness. Certain shades of pink can limit aggression. Pink may be associated with unconditional love and caring.

Purple. Often associated with royalty, the colour purple symbolizes bravery, spirituality, and luxury. Light purple usually brings up romantic or nostalgic feelings; while a darker shade can make you feel gloomy or sad.

Red. The colour red symbolizes some of the most powerful human emotions, like passionate love or lust. On the other side of the spectrum, this warm colour is also the colour of blood, often symbolizing anger, danger, and violence. It stimulates the appetite. Red is an emotionally intense colour associated with energy, danger, anger, passion and determination. The symbolic meaning associated with the colour red is passion, excitement, and love. It’s the colour of urgency, power, and desire. Red is said to boost hunger and is believed to inspire confidence and excitement. This colour has also been found to increase blood pressure and heart rate.

White. This primary colour traditionally symbolizes innocence, peace, and cleanliness. In Western cultures, the colour white also represents purity and virginity, while it symbolizes mourning in some East Asian cultures. Usually has positive connotations when used and thought of as safe. Associated a lot with healing, simplicity and sterility, which is why it's used in hospitals and healing centers as much as it is. The symbolic meaning of the colour white is truth and sometimes even indifference. It encourages feelings of safety and cleanliness. Clean, white clothes and linens show sterility since stains are easily visible. That’s why doctors and nurses frequently wear white lab coats and scrubs.

Yellow. Writers may use the colour yellow to symbolize creativity, happiness, optimism, and warmth—think of a yellow ray of sunlight poking out from a dark cloud. A common negative connotation of the color yellow is cowardice, popularized by the phrase “yellow-bellied.” Warming effect which stimulates body and mind. Gold is associated with the highest of luxury. When bright yellow is used with black it's one of the easiest colour combinations to see from long distances; when uses with lighter colours it's not so easy to see. Yellow ribbons are worn as a symbol of hope and used quite often to welcome home loved ones. Yellow is the colour of warmth, kindness, and happiness. It’s often associated with optimism and well-being and promotes energy.

Brown. This warm, earthy brown colour may symbolize dependability, comfort, and a sense of being grounded. Brown is also a neutral colour, and writers may use it to represent dullness and predictability. Brown is a colour that is related to very grounded traits such as simplicity, practicality, common sense and hard work. Can also be associated with those that are frugal and not too flashy.

Gray. Lighter grays are often thought of as more feminine while darker grays more masculine. Gray is considered by many to be a neutral colour; the perfect balance between light and dark / good and evil. Pop up the lighter grays and add a little shine to it, and thought immediately turns to silver, which correlates to wealth.

Sources & related articles: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

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[inthepeakymidwinter]

Cigarettes, Gunpowder, and Whiskey (Thomas Shelby x Reader) (Smut)

*This story is 18+ no minors interact* Summary: Thomas Shelby befriends his maid when he finds her taking books from his library. TW: Sex, Cigarettes, Alcohol Word Count: 4561 (Largest one yet!)

----------------------------------- It’s been the same routine for weeks. I finish up cleaning for the night at Mr. Shelby’s mansion. I pretend to say goodnight to the other housekeepers and then suddenly I’m sneaking myself into Thomas Shelby’s gigantic library. I hover over a million books trying to find the perfect escape from my dull life. My sunken, tired eyes don’t recognize that a man comes walking into the room followed by a puff of cigarette smoke. I turn my head and see Mr. Shelby himself in a long white sleeve Henley with black suspenders to match his black slacks. It finally hits me that I’ve been caught, and I am on the verge of fainting from anxiety. “Having fun?” He asks. I hold my breath as Mr. Shelby walks up and swiftly pulls the book from my hand to read the cover. “Not a good one” He stated.

“And if I happened to like that one?”  I questioned him with a cherry red blush spreading across my face.

“I’ve been aware since you started taking books Y/N…trust me when I say that you would find that one rather boring” He spoke low and soft whilst his thumb lightly caressed my cheek. I looked up at him in awe. If it had been anyone else, I’d probably kick them in the shins but there was something about Thomas Shelby that made me melt unlike anyone I’ve seen before. 

“So…you’re stalking me?” I inquired.

“Only when you’re stealing” He chuffed. “Fair enough…you have any recommendations Mr. Shelby?” I stared at his darkened blue eyes that paired so well with his short dark hair. In the dim lighting he still looked picture perfect, and it was unfair. 

“Quite a few” He licked his lips and walked towards different bookshelves, picking out certain books that piqued his interest.

Once he finished, he set about five books on his desk and went to fetch a whiskey from his mini bar. As he poured the drink I walked over to the desk and looked at the books on the desk. “These seem awfully long Mr. Shelby” I said as I picked through the different books.

=

“Well, you’ll be working here for a while, yes?” He prodded.

I nodded my head and flipped through a few pages of the first book I picked up…Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. A romance novel. “Romance?” I questioned.

“Something against it?” He implored.

“Not at all, I just…didn’t think you would be for it” I spoke softly.

“Neither for nor against it. It’s honest. It’s secretive, passionate. Loyalty seems to be a big theme” He said before walking over to me and pinning me up against the desk. I was practically sitting up on the desk trying to get my grip together as he leaned in and asked, “You think you’re loyal, Y/N?”

“I like to think so Mr. S-Shelby” I croaked. Thomas nodded his head and stepped back to sip his whiskey once more. Relieving me of the awful feeling of the wooden edge of the desk imprinting on my thighs.

“I’m sure you are… we’ll finish this another night” He claimed and walked out the door with his whiskey. Leaving me in a room full of books to read for the night. I felt like I could finally breathe. --------------

A few nights later, I found myself one night in my bed with one of the books Mr. Shelby suggested, Dracula. It had been keeping me busy for quite some time. I was engrossing myself further into the pages when the old housekeeping bell to my room was going off, ordering me to the kitchen quarters. I walked into the kitchen with my silk night gown on and a long-sleeved cardigan. I was so tired and could barely see in the dark. As I walked deeper into the kitchen, I spotted Mr. Shelby sitting at the kitchen nook with a glass of whiskey by his side.

“Mr. Shelby? Are you alright?” I turned the kitchen light on and walked towards him.  

“Never better…Which book tonight?” He questioned.

“Dracula this time” I said sheepishly.

“Didn’t think you’d be interested in that one…Read it to me?” He requested. I nodded at him with a smile and pointed to the library with a raised brow. He nodded and we both tried not to make the hardwood floors creak as we snuck to the library. I turned back around to face him and noticed a grin on his face.

“What is it” I asked. “I just never thought these books would make anyone this happy. I’ve had them for years and they have yet to be read by someone other than myself” He gushed. “They help me pass the time” I explained and began to get comfortable on the red couch in the library. I tried hard to find my spot without thinking about Thomas looking at me as I flipped through pages. He sat down on the couch beside me and pulled out a cigarette. I found my place and looked back at Thomas who happened to be eagerly awaiting my reading. His bottom lip tucked behind a front tooth as he looked back on me with anticipation. I was jealous his lip couldn’t be one of mine. I shied away from his gaze and focused back onto the book, trying hard not to corrupt my own reality.             "If that other fellow doesn't know his happiness, well, he'd better look for it soon, or he'll have to deal with me. Little girl, your honesty and pluck have made me a friend, and that's rarer than a lover, it's more selfish anyhow. My dear, I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and Kingdom Come. Won't you give me one kiss? It'll be something to keep off the darkness now and then. You can, you know, if you like, for that other good fellow, or you could not love him, hasn't spoken yet."

I read to Thomas aloud with my heart racing. He knew something was up when I stopped reading, he gently put a finger under my chin and brought me to meet eyes with him. “Another romance” He spoke lowly.

“You have a pattern with books Mr. Shelby?” I inquired with a soft blush forming onto my cheeks.

“Only with you” He admitted. I bit my lip and went back into reading, trying not to analyze his words. I wanted more but didn’t like rejection. I preferred to keep my feelings below the surface as much as possible. We spent the rest of the night together reading further into the book and having moments to ourselves. Eventually both of us drank glasses of whiskey and got comfortable enough to be laying on one another. My head resting against his chest as I read, trying to keep my heart from pounding out of its chest. "We want no proofs. We ask none to believe us! This boy will some day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already he knows her sweetness and loving care. Later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake.

JONATHAN HARKER”  I closed the book and sighed. Another ending. Another time I’m brought back to reality. I got up off of the couch and put the book away onto one of the large bookshelves. Thomas got up right behind me, getting closer as I continued to take a deep breath and marvel at all of the books around me. He placed his arms around my waist, wrapping himself against my small figure. My cheeks began to heat up.

“I think we can call it a night, don’t you?” He asked. I began to sink back into him and breathed in the smell of Thomas Shelby. Cigarette, gunpowder, and whiskey. A scent that is begging for death and yet so intoxicating to anyone near him. It grabs your attention like a lost puppy you see wandering a busy street. He let his right arm free and gently moved my hair back behind my shoulder. I had chills run up my spine. Thomas placed soft kisses against the crook of my neck. It all felt so natural, something I could get used to. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted you Ms. L/N” Thomas pressed up against me with his hand running up against my breast. I moaned lightly as he kissed up my neck, making me tilt my head to the opposite side.

“T-Thomas” I breathed out.  He caressed my right breast as he gently sucked and bit my neck. Driving me into an unexpecting madness. He spun me around smoothly so I faced him and brushed the hair out of my face, gently caressing my cheek afterward. I looked up at his sauntering blue eyes and bit my lip.

“Don’t do that” He ordered. I let go of my lip and was instantly met with his lips on mine.

I reciprocated his drunken kisses with welcoming lips. He held the back of my head, pushing it towards him more with every kiss, making sure he stayed in control. I fell right into him, and with it I felt a hardening in his pants. He broke the kiss to start taking his button up shirt off and with it he happened to lift up my silk white night gown. Thomas proceeded to kiss me, biting my lip as we’d break kisses to come up for air. He pressed my back up against the bookshelf. His hand slid up my thigh to meet my core over my embarrassing beige grandma underwear. I felt overwhelmed and completely unprepared. His hands guided themselves and rubbed against my clit in circles with the perfect amount of pressure. As Thomas played with me, he simultaneously licked and sucked sensitive spots on my neck that I didn’t know existed. I panted and whined as he kept going faster with each stroke. “I’m going to make you cum more than anyone else ever will” He growled. I moaned louder as he slid between my underwear and I got to feel his actual fingers on my pussy. It sent me into a spiral and I only craved more of him. His eyes grew wide as he heard me squeal. He stopped rubbing for a moment and placed his other hand over my mouth. “You have to stay quiet until I take you to the bedroom” Thomas ordered. I nodded my head, my core flooding as his hand stayed on my mouth. “Good girl” He praised and continued massaging my warmth.

It was a matter of minutes before he used his fingers so fiercely that I felt like I was about to explode. I rocked my hips against his hands, and I felt two of his large fingers slip into my vagina. I almost screamed in that moment, and my eyes squeezed shut. I was met again with the pressure of his hand upon my mouth and all I could do was moan into his hand as I felt his fingers plunged into me. “You like that my girl? You gonna cum, eh?” He asked me as he sped up his pace. I whined incessantly.  His two fingers curled inside of me, hitting my g spot as he kept plunging into me. I moaned harder with each pump of his fingers and felt like I was going to burst. “Cum for me baby girl” Thomas instructed. I felt his fingers thrust faster and my hips rocked up against them until I felt my body clench up around him. I opened my mouth as much as I could and whimpered. “Cum baby” He repeated. It took one more slam of his fingers for my back to arch and release juices against his fingers. I felt so weak and embarrassed, I refused to look up at him. Thomas slipped his fingers out of me and uncovered my mouth. He saw me looking down at the floor and took a thumb to my chin to lift my face up so I was forced to look at him. “You gonna taste yourself?” Thomas questioned my reddened face. He put the fingers that were just inside of me up to my mouth. “Open up” Thomas ordered with a stern voice. I opened my mouth wide and didn’t close it until his two fingers were touching the middle of my tongue. “Suck” He insisted, looking me dead in the eye as serious as possible. I made sure I sucked his fingers as deeply as possible, doing anything to please him. He bit his lip as I did my best to clean his fingers off. Thomas slid his fingers out of my mouth and licked his lips. “Your ass is coming to my bed” He spoke.

“Yes sir” I mumbled with a deep blush spread over my cheeks. Thomas lifted me up by the waist and threw me over his shoulder. I giggled as he walked out of the library and dropped me off in front of the giant staircase. “Go up, I’ll be there in a second” He insisted while giving me a light smack on my ass. I was flustered and embarrassed, feeling the anxiety from the possibility of one of the staff catching me with Mr. Shelby alone.

I walked up the stairs, trying my best not to make them creak. Once I was in the hallway, I noticed a door halfway shut and walked into the room that I hadn’t explored yet. There was a lamp that dimly lit the entire room. I spotted a huge king sized bed covered with pillows, two big dressers and even a large couch in the middle of the room. If this wasn’t Thomas’ room I’d be shocked. I stepped towards the couch and saw another door. The room had no lights on, and the door was once more halfway shut, so I decided to let myself in. I looked for a lightswitch beside the door and turned on the lights. It was a giant bathroom. A large, clawfoot bath tub and a shower besides it.  I smiled to myself, I hadn’t seen a bathtub this nice before. “You should get in” Thomas scared me with his presence. I jumped in my slippers and he fully saw this embarrassing moment. I looked at him with my hand over my heart and he started to smile. “Did I frighten you” He smirked, coming closer to wrap his arms around me. I nodded at him, fully embracing the way he enveloped me in his arms. “I brought us more to drink, do you want me to run you a bath?” He asked me.

“Sure” I agreed. He let go of me softly and began to prepare the water. Once the water began to run, Thomas excused himself out of the room to get some drinks and a towel for the bath. By the time the bath was halfway full I decided to shimmy off my silk nightgown and surprise him.

Thomas came back with a cigarette in his mouth and a glass of whiskey in hand. When he saw my nude body his cigarette fell out of his mouth. “Oh fuck me” He spoke and went after the cigarette that fell on the tiled floor. When he came back up, I gazed at him with a smile.

“Thank you for the whiskey” I smirked and stole the glass from his hand, taking a small sip before handing it back.

“Where have you been, Y/N” He put his hand against my face, stroking his thumb against my cheek. I looked up at him, biting my lip.

“All of the wrong places I suppose” I mumbled out. He ran his thumb across my bottom lip before stepping away, putting the cigarette out on the ashtray conveniently placed on his bathroom counter.

He placed the glass of whiskey down on the counter next to the ashtray, then turned back to me.

“I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you here, eh?” He promised, moving in closer to me. I nodded my head. “I’d like that” I croaked out. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine for only a single time. Then placed kisses down my neck, onto my collarbone, and down towards my chest.

“You’re a fucking goddess” He hummed against my breast, then began to kiss my nipple and suck gently, swirling his tongue in circular motions. As he went to my other breast, I involuntarily let out a moan and that forced Thomas to look up at me with a smirk. He knew he was doing something right. I continued to whimper as he kissed and sucked on my other breast, but I soon became unprepared as he started kissing down my stomach. Soon ending his rampant kisses at the start of my pussy, I couldn’t bear to hold in another sound.  “You okay?” He asked me kindly. I looked down at him and his perfectly tousled black hair.

“More than okay” I let out. He nodded and continued with his playful schemes.

Slowly he licked my clit and I let out a high pitched whimper involuntarily. As he continued I got more used to the warm feeling of his tongue down on me. I let myself go into the pleasure of Thomas’ tongue and was riding a high that I had never felt before. He licked down my slit, diving into my entrance with his tongue, causing my legs to shutter. Thomas knew I was crumbling and immediately stopped what he was doing. I almost cried at his immediate stop until I saw his pitch black eyes come up from below me. He kissed me immediately and I met his lips with the same immense desire. He pushed me up against the counter behind us and slipped his tongue into my mouth playfully. I followed his movements, slowly dancing with his tongue against mine. Suddenly, I felt his hands against my ass and he swiftly lifted me up on top of the counter. He finished our kiss before spreading my legs with his hands and moving back down between my legs. I cried out as he continued lapping up my wetness, shortly finding myself in the same position I was in earlier. I tried to grasp his hair with my hands thinking he would slow down but that just made him hungrier for more.

“T-Thomas” I cried out but it was no use. I was close to orgasm and he wasn’t fighting me from the deep release. I felt my stomach tighten and knew I was a goner. As I moaned out louder, Thomas began to move his tongue left to right quickly, making me tighten up. “Thomas p-please” I cried again. His tongue was no match for me, and I felt myself cum as he kept licking me. I gasped as he kept licking. He wanted every ounce of juice for himself and all I could do was whimper and cry out to him. He licked my slit once more before looking at me. I was a lousy, panting, naked mess. “You tasted amazing” He licked his lips. “You kill me, Thomas Shelby” I shook my head and smiled. He smiled back at me and stood up. “Want a bath now?” He asked me with his hand out for me to hold. I nodded at him.

“If I can even stand” I giggled, making note of my shaking legs. “I got you, come here” Thomas scooped me up from the bathroom counter, lifting me bridal style and softly letting me down into the warm bath. “I don’t want to…but I’ll let you rest for a minute. I’ll be in the other room finishing up some papers from work. Just come out when your ready” Thomas spoke, giving me a kiss on the forehead and leaving me to be by myself. I didn’t expect Thomas Shelby to be so caring, or even so mature. Nobody has ever given me this amount of care after anything sexual. I lay back into the bathtub, sinking in down to my shoulders, properly relaxed. After a while in the bathtub, I noticed my legs stopped shaking and I was ready to settle down into bed. I popped up the drain for the bathtub and carefully lifted myself up from the bath, grabbing the towel hanging on a hook off the wall.

I wrapped myself and stepped out of the bath, turning off the bathroom lights and heading into the main bedroom. I saw Thomas at his desk, seriously glancing down at his papers with his rounded glasses on. “It’s not all just reading books all day is it?” I asked from the corner of the room. He turned around and looked at me with tired eyes.

“Unfortunately…come sit” He insisted and patted his lap. I nodded and walked up to his desk, I glanced at his paperwork. Tons of papers full of writing, about racehorses, financial audits, and taxes. It looked to complicated for me to make sense of, especially at this hour of the night. I sat on his lap and leaned against his chest. “I do a lot of horse races, and bets…I’m trying to make my family the first legitimate race business” He mumbled out.

“Well, trying is better than nothing” I murmured. He let out a “Hmm” and began to place one of his hands on my thigh as he read a paper in his other hand. The hand on my thigh moved up inch by inch. The further he read his paper the higher his hand went. Thomas turned the page of the paper and slid his hand up towards my pussy. I gasped softly, unprepared for him to want to touch me again. “You need me to fuck you on the bed, eh little one?” He asked me with a deep voice. I moaned out softly as he kept touching me. “You need to tell me baby” Thomas ordered. “Y-yes” I whimpered. “Say yes sir” He ordered again. Rubbing my clit softly, teasing the hell out of me. “Y-ye-yes sir” I struggled to speak as he kept stroking with a steady speed. “Good girl” He praised me before stopping his strokes and lifting me up off of his lap. Thomas removed my towel and stood up. He pointed to the bed and I walked over to it, letting my self sit on the edge. Thomas pushed me down gently and spread my legs. “You okay with another round?” He asked me gently. I nodded my head and saw his eyebrow raise. “What’d I tell you?” He asked. “Yes sir” I told him. Thomas nodded and leaned down, hovering his body over mine. He gave me a gentle kiss on the lips before sliding down towards my core once more. I held my breath as I knew what he was about to do. He kissed down my mound before slowly using his tongue against my folds. I grabbed. His hair once more and I cried out his name. He stopped his licking to grab my wrists and place them to my sides. He held down my hands as he kept licking and sucking on my clit. I was overstimulated and about to burst, but before I could I felt his hands release mine and he came up for air. “You ready for me?” He questioned me.  

“Y-yes sir” I moaned out, gazing deeply into his blue eyes.

“Good girl” He praised once more before unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants off, revealing an enormous bulge in his boxers. My eyes darted from his boxers to his eyes. “See something you like?” He smirked. I blushed hard and slid myself up in the bed. Adjusting my head to the pillow, trying to prepare myself for whatever he was about to put me through. He removed his boxers and sprung his large cock free. I looked back up to him again, but this time a bit apprehensive and he could sense it. “We’ll go slow okay?” He promised me. I nodded at him and he leaned down to kiss me gently on the lips. He smiled into this kiss and began to lock lips with mine. As he did this he also reached his hand down to rub my clit softly, making me buck my hips and squirm against his hardened bulge. He kissed me deeper with each stroke of his hand, slowly entering his tongue into my mouth and having to battle me for dominance. I began to moan into each kiss and with a random kiss he slid his hand away, using it to guide his cock slowly into my pussy. I nearly yelped as his thickness filled my entrance. He pushed further inside of me, giving me time to adjust to the size of him. I moaned more into his kisses until he pulled away to kiss my neck. “You’re so…tight, Y/N…fuck” He groaned as he thrusted into me. Suddenly the pain turned to pleasure and I welcomed every one of his thrusts.

“Th-Thomas…Pl-Please” I cried out as he increased his speed. His thrusts grew faster with each of my moans. I wanted him more than I ever thought I did. He kept steadying his pace, each thrust of his cock made my toes curl and suddenly I felt myself about to release.

“You gonna cum on my cock babygirl?” Thomas asked as he kept thrusting, speeding his thrusts up to match my cries.

“Y-Yes sir” I whined, feeling him bottom out into me.

“Cum for me, Y/N” He insisted as he kept his fast pace. I cried out in pleasure with each thrust. I couldn’t help but to give in to his massive size. My muscles clenched as he pulled out and pushed into me with his full size. I nearly died with his pace. My body started giving in to him, and as he thrusted one last time I came onto him. “Good girl” He kissed my neck and sucked hard, giving a hickey in the process. I panted as he kept going, but this time slowing down his pace. “You’re gonna make me cum, babygirl” He groaned and leaned down to kiss me. This time he bottomed out into me and picked up his pace, grunting with each thrust, I could tell he was close. “Fuck, Thomas” I whined and unintentionally clenched up around him. He grunted harder and bottomed out into me once more before quickly pulling out and spilling himself onto my stomach. His six pack clenched up as he went to stand up off of the bed. I looked at his abs and then back to him. He winked at me and walked towards the desk where my bath towel hung off of his office chair. As he returned, he wiped off his cum off my stomach and threw the towel on the floor.

“Get under the blankets now, princess…Get some rest. You need it” He insisted and kissed me one last time before lifting the blankets up and placing them over me. Thomas then slid into bed beside me and turned off the lamp. I could get used to the feeling of being in bed with this man.   “Goodnight Thomas” I mumbled before quickly drifting off to sleep with him up against me.

“Goodnight, Y/N” He answered, wrapping his arm over my abdomen and cuddling me tightly.

[outerrimhours]

Brahms Heelshire X Fem!Reader

{Part One} / {Part Two} / {Part Three} / {Masterlist}

Notes: I most certainly sat in the dark by candlelight listening to dark classical music when I wrote this.

Warnings: Smut, needy virgin Brahms, sub Brahms, 

Song: Ghost Song - Max Ablitzer

Without the candlelight, the guest room is crepuscular. Shapes of the furniture almost discernable in the flickering ivory gleam. The silk of your nightgown glowing with the kiss of a fire’s light. It had been too many nights alone, but you knew Brahms was okay when the new book you had bought him from the store disappeared. Your perfect ink penmanship written along the opening, “Even in the darkest nights, your spirit lingers. Mine ever waiting for its presence.” 

As you leaned down to blow out the first candle, a shadow crept and elongated against the floorboards. The Hillshire phantom lingered in the doorway of your room, peering at you through porcelain eyes. 

“Brahms”, you whispered, eyes fluttering at the sight of him in front of you once more. 

He studied you with soft, observant eyes like an artist in the Louvre, drifting and lingering over the shadows in the candlelight. A shift in the atmosphere, like drifting weightless through water. 

No matter how many times he laid his eyes upon you, you stayed the most intricate thing, blessed by an absolute delicacy that he so craved and desired. 

Your eyes lingered by his throat, watching him swallow, down until your gaze met the dip in his chest, fingertips aching at the fascination to touch him. 

You stepped forward, reaching tentatively out to grasp his wounded hand. Pink, angry scars littered the pallid stretch of skin and you pulled it towards your eager lips, placing the softest kiss against the flesh. 

You swore you could hear the faintest gasp when you guided it to your chest, allowing the warm, claminess of his palm to rest against your beating heart. Wild and eager against his own pulse. His eyes drifted, gazing under hooded eyes at the low cut edge of the gown. 

Too many nights Brahms dreamed of how you would feel. Heart raging with ragged breaths, he stepped closer. Electricity prickled his fingertips at the smoothness of your arm, dragging long, eager fingers down the flesh. Goosebumps rising. 

“I would never leave you”, you proclaimed quietly, guiding him to the oversized bed. 

You guided him to sit, the anticipation in his stomach almost making him sick. 

Slow, deliberate fingers guiding the cardigan from his shoulders, suspenders along with it. You loved the curves and veins that adorned his shoulders, arms, over his hands. Hair darkening over the milky skin. 

You laid him back, candlelight catching the edges of your lashes in liquid gold, bathing you in an almost angelic glow, casting shadows on the wall. You couldn’t look away from his eyes, they moved with every movement you made. 

“Let me kiss you”, you asked, fingers gripping the edge of his mask, begging for permission. 

Brahms  would do anything you asked for in that moment, all you had to do was utter the word. 

At the nod of his head, you released the cover, allowing your eyes to bask in the gloriousness of who he was. Beautiful, anomalous. At the stroke of your thumb against the scarred skin of his left side, his eyes closed briefly in a moment of peace. 

You hadn’t even kissed him yet, and yet he was already achingly hard beneath you. 

You leaned down to kiss his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, the angular sharpness of his jaw and the stubble that sat against it. 

“Be a good boy for me and be so still”, you breathed, ghosting your lips over his own.

Brahms eyes were so blown out, needy and lustful as they looked up at you. The darkened pupils almost swallowing the pale blueness completely. And when you finally met his eager lips, he whimpered against you. Everything in him screamed to reach out and grab you, kiss you harder, but he obeyed your command. 

You tasted like the salt air of the English sea. Like fire to gunpowder, he consumed your mouth against his own, head swimming with desire. When your lips left to wet his throat, Brahms propped himself up on his elbows, head tilting back to allow you full access. Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with each swallow of saliva. Cold hands reached to lift the fabric of his wife beater, knuckles grazing against the hardness of his stomach, the soft pillowy hair that sat against it. Brahms couldn’t help when his hips bucked slightly to meet your center. Ever so satisfied when you allowed the faintest gasp to slip through. 

At the sight of his bare chest, you allowed the straps of your gown to fall ever so slowly down your arms, the tops of your breasts so perfectly teasing his line of sight.  

You hovered over him, thumb brushing against the swollen, pouty flesh of his lip commanding him to open his mouth for you. His mouth sucked softly against the thumb of your hand, needy, desperate huffs escaping his throat when your other hand reached down to unbutton the top of his trousers. 

He was already soaked when you released him from the confines of his clothes, precum leaking from the tip. When your hand wraps around his cock, he can’t help the boyish, guttural whine that builds from his chest. Gently shushing him, you move to kiss his chest, soft pillowy lips lingering over every inch of skin. The soft hair of his chest tickles your nose with every further movement. Your touches ignite a fire against his skin, and he’s shaking at the anticipation, eyes wide and waiting. 

You savor the way his stomach heaves with every nervous breath, your eyes never leave his the further you trail, saliva now cold against the places your lips had been. 

When your tongue finally found its place on his cock, ever so slightly licking the precum, Brahms cried out, fingers gripping through your hair, desperate to thrust into you. 

“You’re being so good”, you praised tenderly, igniting a flame so deep in his belly drool couldn’t help but drip slightly from his parted lips. 

Feeling the warm wetness of your mouth sink down upon him was the most intoxicating feeling Brahms had ever felt. He almost wanted to cry, the way his chest felt so heavy and breathless. 

Soft, little gasps left his lips every time you moved against him. Brahms was being so, so good for you and as a reward you slipped the dress from your body, letting his eyes take in every exposed inch of your bare skin. 

Hand wrapped ever so softly around his cock, you leaned up to lick the saliva dripping down from his lip and onto his exposed neck. 

“Please”, he cried out, one of the first words he had spoken all night. “More, I’ll be good, I swear.” 

Your hand teased him, slowly pumping up and down, fascinated by every whimper and cry until you felt him harden even more in your hand. 

Cum spilled over at every praise of your words,

“Such a good, sweet boy.”

He was gasping, desperate for air. The wetness between your thighs dripped down onto his leg, hair falling over your eyes, lips parted and mesmerized by him. He couldn’t help the arousal that quickly returned. 

“Be so, so still for me Brahmsy.”

You straddled his waist, cunt warm and eager to feel him inside of you. Brahms was so overstimulated, face flushed and feverish. Ragged, guttural breathes and moans at the sight of you on top of him. He wanted to reach out and feel your breasts between wanting fingers. You sunk down on to his cock, cum warm against the innerness of your thighs, tangled in the hair at the base of his cock. 

Brahms growled at the feeling of your cunt squeezing and constricting around him, hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles were white. Sweat beaded over his skin, eyes so innocent and wide watching you ride him. He whimpered so helplessly, and when your hand reached to massage your clit, he choked on the babbles that he cried out. The most you had ever heard him talk. You hiccupped and gulped at the building pressure, reaching around to the softness of his hair to guide him into a sitting position. You allowed his arms to wrap around you tightly, forehead pressed against your own to peer into your eyes as you came. Crying his name over and over and over. Encouraging him to cum for you once more, tears brimming his eyes and threatening to spill over.

“There you are, cum for me, just like that. Such a good boy”, you cooed, his own cum coating your insides.

You were both heaving and shaking, holding each other tightly against sweat glistened bodies.

“I love you, truely, dearly, forever”, you said, kissing the tears that managed to slip down his reddened cheeks.

[whencyclopedia]

Ancient Chinese Warfare

In ancient China warfare was a means for one region to gain ascendancy over another, for the state to expand and protect its frontiers, and for usurpers to replace an existing dynasty of rulers. With armies consisting of tens of thousands of soldiers in the first millennium BCE and then hundreds of thousands in the first millennium CE, warfare became more technologically advanced and ever more destructive. Chariots gave way to cavalry, bows to crossbows and, eventually, artillery stones to gunpowder bombs. The Chinese intelligentsia may have frowned upon warfare and those who engaged in it and there were notable periods of relative peace but, as in most other ancient societies, for ordinary people it was difficult to escape the insatiable demands of war: either fight or die, be conscripted or enslaved, win somebody else's possessions or lose all of one's own.

Attitudes to Warfare

The Chinese bronze age saw a great deal of military competition between city-rulers eager to grab the riches of their neighbours, and there is no doubt that success in this endeavour legitimised reigns and increased the welfare of the victors and their people. Those who did not fight had their possessions taken, their dwellings destroyed and were usually either enslaved or killed. Indeed, much of China's history thereafter involves wars between one state or another but it is also true that warfare was perhaps a little less glorified in ancient China than it was in other ancient societies.

The absence of a glorification of war in China was largely due to the Confucian philosophy and its accompanying literature which stressed the importance of other matters of civil life. Military treatises were written but, otherwise, stirring tales of derring-do in battle and martial themes, in general, are all rarer in Chinese mythology, literature and art than in contemporary western cultures, for example. Even such famous works as Sun-Tzu's The Art of War (5th century BCE) warned that, "No country has ever profited from protracted warfare” (Sawyer, 2007, 159). Generals and ambitious officers studied and memorised the literature on how to win at war but starting from the very top with the emperor, warfare was very often a policy of last resort. The Han Dynasty (206 BCE - 220 CE) was notable for its expansion, as were some Tang Dynasty emperors (618-907 CE) but, in the main, a strategy of paying off neighbours with vast tributes of silver and silk, along with a parallel exportation of “civilising” culture was seen as the best way to defend imperial China's borders. Then, if war ultimately proved unavoidable, it was better to recruit foreign troops to get on with it.

Joining the intellectuals with their disapproval of warfare were also the bureaucrats who had no time for uncultured military men. No doubt, too, the vast majority of the Chinese peasantry were never that keen on war either for it was they who had to endure conscription, heavy taxes in kind to pay for costly campaigns, and have their farms invaded and plundered.

With the emperors, the landed gentry, intellectuals and farmers all well-aware of what they could lose in war, it was, then, somewhat disappointing for them all that China, in any case, had just as many conflicts as anywhere else in the world in certain periods. One cannot ignore the common presence of fortifications in the bronze age, such chaotic centuries as the Autumn and Spring Period (722-481 BCE) with its one hundred plus rival states, the Warring States Period (481-221 BCE) with its incredible 358 separate conflicts or the fall of the Han when war was once again incessant between rival Chinese states. Northern steppe tribes were also constantly prodding and poking at China's borders and emperors were not averse to the odd foreign folly such as attacking ancient Korea.

Continue reading...

[bullet-prooflove]

Stay Tonight: Dwight Manfredi x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @skellyagogo @sca3a @kenbechillin @mandy426

Companion piece to:

Dior - Dwight wakes up to the scent of Dior and lipstick on his chest.

Gunpowder & Roses - Dwight's enemies make a mistake when they come after you.

Hell of A Message - You send a message to your ex Bill.

The Cowboy At Your Door - Your ex Bill shows up in response to your message.

You’re tired.

Dwight can see that the moment you open the door to him. Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and there’s a weariness in you that he’s never seen before. He realises that’s because you hide this part of yourself, the human side, the vulnerable side. He wants you to know you don’t have to do that with him, that he wants every part of you, not just the persona you put on for everybody else.

“You gonna let me take care of you tonight?” He asks you as he leans in the doorway, the black leather overnight bag clasped in his hand.

“I’m too tired to fuck.” You tell him and he smiles because he finds your forthrightness very refreshing.

“Well I’d like to think I’m a good cuddler.” He tells you and it’s your turn to smile because it’s been a long time since you’ve gone to bed with a man that hasn’t wanted something from you.

He takes his time undressing you, his fingers undoing the each of the buttons of the dress shirt you’re wearing as his gaze stays fixed on yours. You’re beautiful even with the bruising. A masterpiece draped in cotton and ink. This thing between the two of you, it may have started as a very physical attraction but it’s become more far more than that over the past few weeks.  The fabric flutters from your shoulders, falling to the floor before Dwight helps you to remove your bra and panties. He picks up the blue and white striped pyjama set you’ve already laid out across the bed, helping you into the elasticated shorts before drawing the shirt up your shoulders and fastening each of the buttons.

“Thank you.” You say softly as his thumb ghosts along your jaw and he realises it’s been a long time since someone has looked after you.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He whispers, his mouth capturing yours in a tender kiss. “This is what you do when you care about someone.”

He gets you settled into bed before he begins to unpack his own overnight bag, setting the items down onto dressing table and chair. He likes the look of his things intermingled with yours, the blend of masculinity and femininity, he wonders if this is what it could look like in the future if you continue down this road.

“Dwight.” You say with a hint of amusement as he pulls out his clothing. “Did you bring pyjamas?”

“I did.” He says as he turns to face you, holding up the black silk bottoms. “I thought I’d bring the  appropriate attire considering we’re having our first sleepover.”

The two of you have fucked before but he never wakes up with you, you always leave before the sun rises. Him being here tonight, it changes things, it shows that he’s invested, the fact you’re letting him stay, it shows that you are too.

“I hope you don’t snore.” He says as he climbs into bed alongside of you. His arm wraps around your waist, gathering you up close. Your legs tangle with his as he tucks you in against his chest.

“I wouldn’t know.” You tell him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You’re the first man to sleep over since I bought the place.”

“That seems fitting considering you were my first.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours.

His fingertips trace over your features and he can feel your body starting to relax against him as your eyes flutter closed. You’re breathing starts to even out and you nuzzle in a little closer, your palm coming to rest on the space where his heart resides in his chest.

People think that sex is the most intimate thing you can do with a person but Dwight thinks it’s this. Putting your faith in someone else when you’re at your most exposed, it’s not something people in your line of work do. He thinks it speaks volumes about the direction your relationship is heading.

“Good night baby.” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your temple. “I hope you have the sweetest damn dreams.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bruciemilf]

now i need to know how miguel and battinson would interact. there's so much potential for all types of scenarios

My favorite one at the moment is Miles somehow stumbling in Gotham. He's running from Miguel, from Gwen, from himself.

if there's one thing Gotham can give you, it's a chance. For greatness or disaster both. The Batfamily often picks both.

"Is he, uh, one of ours?"

Dick carefully takes In this guy, -- this boy, this 15 year old. Panting and scared and strong, and way too familiar with being put in the corner. "Call dad, Duke."

Bruce knows too much about scared children.

Miles is handed a cup of steaming tea by a big guy named Jason. There's a discreet smell of cold blood on him, gunpowder, bullet smoke. It clashes with how...Gentle he's being.

" Uh...Thanks."

"Yeah, don't get used to it,'' He said, ignoring the fond, sly smiles of Bruce and Dick. " You two definetly don't get used to it."

Cass sits next to Miles on the couch, " Jay. Small brain. Big heart. Mushy."

"I graduated with honours,"

"English degree.''

"Damian, hold me back. Or I'll get my ass kicked again."

"So when you say multiverse,--"

"Tim," Bruce's voice is soft silk but nonetheless very effective. "We should let Miles breathe a little. Come. We'll talk in the cave.''

Damian regards Miles with a look. Not a bad or good one, but just a look. " Danger favours you. Use that."

"Uh... Okay?"

"I only had you for a day and a half. Should something happen to you, I'll annihilate everyone on the planet, and then myself."

"...Thanks."

He tells Bruce what happened, with every terrifying, every nerve wrecking detail. He remembers the rush, the adrenaline, the dread that bled into him. The sour betrayal.

"I know that the real Spider-Man wouldn't complain, but he's,'' There's something about Bruce, that puts an ease on him. He looks at Miles like Rio looks at Miles. " He's my dad."

"Suffering isn't an accomplishment, " Bruce tells him gently, hand on his shoulder, " And tragedy isn't a reward. Anyone would do the same in your position."

"...Would you change YOUR destiny?"

"I already am."

As for Miguel and Battinson? You can't tell me it's not fighting on sight.

Miguel knows he pushed too hard, and he was too harsh, and he didn't take the time to explain WHY this needs to be done. The motive behind it. The reason.

"You can't explain the reason because there's no reason."

"Listen, trust fund. You can give me back my kid, or I can take him from you. "

Bruce doesn't miss a beat, meeting rich, sharp, ruby red eyes with a calm glare. " You're welcome to try."

"You want me to mess up that pretty face? Is that what you want? If you want to fight, then-"

"I'm not a 15 year old, so are you sure?"

Dick and Jason give eachother tired looks. " They're totally gonna get married."

" Totally."

[opencommunion]

"On the 34th day at last you go on down to rediscover the suburbs and the villages of the south, and you see just how deceptive and lying the photographs have been. A picture can only convey the surface of things. There is no meaning to destruction without the experience of the sound of feet crunching on top of the rubble. There is no meaning to the rubble without the stench of gunpowder blending with the smells of decaying corpses, cement, and iron. And there is no meaning to the smell without the feeling that everything is sand, sand becoming more sand. Those who saw the images of Lebanese devastation on their TV screens, in the Arab world, and in the rest of the world, and then cried or cursed or swore or became upset—really they did not see anything at all. Believe me, my friends, you are living in the delusion that you have seen, but you have not seen. The eye alone does not see—despite the fact that the eye is the torch of the body, as the prophets proclaimed. Human beings see with all of their limbs, organs, and senses. With all of these we confront the unknown, and when the unknown comes to us we become part of it.

I saw, though, and I became part of this horizon covered in ruin. In the Dahiyeh, I saw people wandering about looking for their places. Even more difficult to endure than losing one’s home is losing the capacity to identify the road to one’s home. I saw people’s eyes darting from side to side, searching for a familiar place in the rubble. These were people who had lost any recognition of the features of the streets and the places they knew, people who were no longer able to determine where their home might have been, or even where the road to it might be.

It was a mix of terror and bewilderment. The place had simply abandoned the people, and it had become featureless. Without any signs or indications to go by, memory seemed about to disintegrate as well. At this moment I recalled Palestine. Harder to bear than the Israeli occupation and suffering eviction from one’s home has been the aggression against the place, and the modification of its features through demolition. The souls of the dead flee to their places and spread their shadows over the homes, their perfume mingling with the scent of flowers in the meadows. What would the souls of the dead say today, wandering amid the ruins? Do the Israelis over there in Palestine, or those who are right here, in Lebanon, know that they have been unable to win more than the curses of the dead?

But Palestine only comes to light in southern Lebanon: the ruin of the Lebanese Galilee is embraced by the ruin of the Palestinian Galilee. These are the slopes of the soul that lead you to God. In the south I discovered the fields of lemon trees that stretch from Saida to the horizon’s end, and I breathed the perfume of the orange blossom, the flower that is in its transformation like nothing so much as the silkworm. The silkworm fashions its silk before it becomes a moth. But here the white moth that spreads out on the branches of the trees transforms itself into a fruit, the fruit that gave its name to the 'orange' in European languages. And from the perfume of the naranj we come to the boisterous guffaw of history that you hear reverberating in the Beaufort crusader castle. Today nothing remains of those franj crusaders apart from their fortress, which has become the practically invincible fortification of the resistance. Just as we wrote our graffiti on its walls in the seventies, so they write on them today. But the dogged irony of history does not appear quite so clearly here as it does in the destroyed villages beyond the fortress. In Bint Jbeil, Aita al Shaab, Siddiquine, and Aitaroun—there you see how closely the destruction and devastation coheres and binds with the will to resist and with the will to remain steadfast on one’s land. You can see how the trembling, shimmering pulverized dust hanging in the air becomes a voice that immerses itself in silence, and then produces it. There, the sloping hills stretch out and carry you to a horizon that seems to be embracing the souls of the dead, and you feel that you have been cast into an endlessly circular path."

Elias Khoury, "Meditations Upon Destruction" (2006)

[bts5sosempire]

the tyrant (vi); side one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,583

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, nothing major atm, mentions of infertility, etc.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:  "you were the apple of Sukuna's eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you."

𝐚/𝐧: splitting this into two parts, leaving y’all on a cliffhanger. pls like, comment below for tagging, and reblogged. (edit: forgot there were "broken" links or something when clicking to find the chapters, those are also fixed too.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

In front of you were two boxes, one that was gunpowder with a bold black label written at the top of the crate, and the other was written in potassium chlorate. You notice that these two items share similar fates but different structures. "Handle with care," you instructed, snapping the fan in your hand shut. Walking off with shoulders squaring, your eyes trail around when you stop right in the center of the trading post. You finally owned a small port that allowed you to transport essential items from different countries. From using the money, the inn has accumulated over time.

All the time you've spent inside your room, stuck reading boring materials and trying to navigate into the world as a man, was brutal. You would never have the luxury and freedom as a woman, but you've become too accustomed to dressing up as a man. It doesn't mean you let yourself fall freely. This world wasn't built for women; you've always known that from the start, although that doesn't stop you from bending the rules to your will if you wish for it. The effects of reinforcing you into roles from everyone start to wear off when there isn't anyone keeping tabs.

And it feels liberating, you admit.

The first few steps you have taken for yourself without the help of anyone powerful give you a sense of clarity—something normal among the norms. You eye the small port, seeing the future play out in front of you. If you kept a steady trade of items from the small shops, you have gambled around the area for their compliance (you were hasty, something you ought to keep in check, too), then the port would grow big in no time. But quality wares is something you noted and took from the vendors you think would make it big if they produce what you're looking for. Owning important essential items or daily use objects was often sought out, and knowing what was going on in the market with the ledgers you kept, the vendors were happy to update it every week.

The smell of sea salt brushes against your nose when a spray mist of the ocean settles across your face like a thin veil. It brought you back from reality. The dark soft fur that clings around your neck tickles your jawline. It was a cape that had a lined coat inside for heat insulation. It was a gift to you from the seamstress. At first, you refuse such a gift as you weren't expecting anything in return but their devotion. The seamstress was an elderly lady named Rue with pure grey hair with specks of white, with milky pupils who ran the shop with her granddaughter, who was the age of fifteen. For someone blind, they have an impeccable sense of design, where to thread their needle, and even hand spin the silk threads with deer tail fur to tone down the bright arrogant colors.

Last but not least, you didn't bypass her as male.

You wonder how at first, Rue could tell, but you couldn't stop them from shoving their hands all over your face to see as further confirmation. It isn't until when you're alone that she sends her blushing granddaughter, who keeps gawking at you, to fetch warm jasmine tea from the kitchen. When she breathed out how the light footsteps and breathing differed from men, the soft scent of your natural smell under the musk of pinewood wasn't enough to fool her. Years of blindness hone her other senses.

To say you give a nervous smile even though Rue can't see, but she could sense it. You remember how she didn't ask questions about your true identity, but traces of understanding was written across her withering face. Rue was indeed an enigma and a master of changing the topic onto herself with woos of stories of her ambitious youth. You don't mind her rambling; as long as it's not you divulging into your life, then you're fine.

Readjusting the cape, you walk off the port onto the mainland, and before you can go any further, a woman who is a bit tad shorter than you bumps into you. They let out a yelp and seemed to trip over their heel as they braced for impact when falling back and shut their eyes. Based on reflexes, you grab their wrist to pull them upright, but all it does is wring their weight your way as they collide into your chest with a delicate sound of discontent.

"Hey! Watch where-" The words died on their lips when they opened their soft pomegranate-colored eyes. Their eyes almost remind you of someone. As if they couldn't utter a word after nearly insulting you, the shade of their face became gradually warmer, like the colors of their eyes. "I'm sorry!" They sputter out in nervousness. You only look down at her with your questioning piercing gaze that has her even weaker in your arms. Unknowingly. Ripping themself out of your hold, she set a space between you both.

"What are you sorry for? It was my fault for not seeing you." Simply reassuring her, the woman across from you became a more blubbering mess. You don't know what's going on in her head; the more you observe, it becomes a headache to decipher each passing second. Cutting her off, you notice the sky gradually getting darker and bid her farewell with a tilt of your head down.

It wasn't until that you were gone she allowed herself to bask in the memories of you. With both hands on her flaming cheeks, she gushes over her Prince Charming and starts to create scenarios in her head. "They were so cool!~" The aura around her was warm and pleasant, and even some bystanders who walked past her glanced at her—some young love.

"Lady Kiriko!" The young woman's handmaid finally reaches her as they huff and pant. They stop in front of her. Kiriko only clicked her tongue in distaste as she lost her sense of a heart-warming aura. "I finally found you! We have to go to the inn before it gets dark." The handmaid wheezes out.

Like a flip that has been switched, Kiriko activated her brat mode. "Why do you always have to ruin my fun?" She pinches the maid's arm harshly, and they cringe back. "I still have a bit more time left before sundown." Kiriko overlaps her arms, but her thoughts trail back to you, and then brat mode is switched off. She had a deluded smile on her face. Then again, it was back on instantly when she turned around to her maid. "By the way, did you see a handsome man on your way here? They walk where the way you came from."

The handmaid crinkles her brows in confusion.

Kiriko rolls her eyes, "You know about this tall?" She gestured to where your height would reach, which is a head taller. "They wore a cape in the color of brown, but it looked like gold with intricate design, and the neck had soft black fur surrounding it." Kiriko waited a few more seconds, "And they look adorable too."

The maid then snaps their eyes at the lady, "Ah yes! I saw them; they walked into a rented house near here!" Kiriko didn't waste time asking which house the handsome man rented, and the maid told her it was the Red Koi and sped away.

Eisha coughs as the weather gets colder and harsher. With the months flying by and winter coming, she tried to stifle another hack. "Where are the imported red coals?" She asked nearby maids, who gave each other a look, deciding who would break the news. They were a jittering mess and kept avoiding eye contact.

Eisha's lady-in-waiting ensured her Master was comfortable as she brought the finest furs and pillows to create a sturdy and warm nest. "Your Lady asked you a question, and you won't answer her?" The personal maid sternly made a face, and the lowly ranked servants quivered.

"The red coals that you requested were given to Lady (Name)," one spoke up, still refusing to make eye contact; they whispered the last part in a hush, "by Lord Sukuna's order."

As if what they said were whiplash to their Lady and the personal maid, Eisha's lady-in-waiting was about to blow a fuse for her Master. "All dismiss." She tried to say calmly. Although it was barely contained, all the servants could see how Eisha's handmaid eyes bled red with rage, and no one wasted a second to flee the room. If Hell existed, it would be this very castle.

Eisha's handmaid, Miyo, turns to their master. "Your Lady, even Lord Sukuna knows about your condition and that regular coals could suffocate your lungs and worsen it with the amount of smoke it emits." Miyo then curses you inside her mind; like everyone else, she couldn't understand why Lord Sukuna would put you above all else. Are you made of gold or something? Miyo was sure you were nothing; you hadn't made yourself worthy with a single childbirth. Something that everyone knew was important.

"Don't worry about it," Eisha's quiet demeanor made Miyo even more raucous, but she held it inside. "Go to the clothing department today and pick up my lined fur fleece and my daughter from her study." With the command, Miyo respectfully now to Eisha and left the room.

There was a quick and sudden announcement from Hanami about her niece visiting her from a different region of Japan in a week. So the Doom Mother (Motherzilla) had expected everything to be perfect and lavish. Even the concubines were putting on their best behavior as they discussed what to wear to welcome their mother-in-law's niece.

This was the first time the girl would make an official trip to visit Hanami alone. But that doesn't mean you haven't heard of her before; there were brief mentions of her throughout your marriage to Sukuna. Where Hanami had plotted the idea of her only son marrying a cousin with who he had no interest. Additionally, Sukuna only met her once when she was only eight. Even the age gap was a decade between them. In the faint memory of her ten years ago, Sukuna had said she was a spoilt brat to the brim and expected the world to bow down to her.

You could almost laugh at how ironic he was judging someone when he was the same way. Well, minus the spoilt parts, then it would be perfect.

"Lady (Name)," a lady you recognize was two years older than you, was part of Hanami's entourage, Ubi. Judging by her clothes, she was in the second rank, closely behind Hanami's vassal, Naiyu. This instantly made you put on an air of neutrality; you didn't know what to expect from her as you didn't know much about her. Out of all of Hanami's retainers, only Ubi and Naiyu were the ones you watch out for, as Ubi was specially trained under Naiyu, so their facade was perfect craftsmanship.

Since they both represent Hanami's strengths, they had to be fearless in what they do, and you suspect that much—being the blade for their master. Still, they have shown indifference toward you, but doubt lingers in your mind. You can be careful and wary of them, but that would invite your demise if you failed to see beyond, so you try to harden your eyes.

Ubi, who senses you putting up barriers, instantly tries to disarm it with a soft smile that is part of her service. "The Head Mother has requested your presence," and around you, the air of jealousy and envy from concubines rises through the roof and filters through the hallways. Whether it's deliberate or not, Ubi semblance never falters. She held onto that patience.

"Lead the way," you monotonously said, and she turned around for you to follow. Starting at her back, it's unsettling how you can't pick what's happening inside Ubi's head, unlike how you did with Sukuna. For them, it's a blank slate.

"Ugh, look at her acting like she's so important just because the Head Mother had called for her," Sena whispered with hidden jaundice around her little clique, and they all agreed. One rolls their eyes, and a few sniggers at the action. Her eyes trail close to where you left.

It took a few minutes to lead you to Hanami's residence.

"Head Mother, I have brought Lady (Name) as per your request," Ubi announces, and the door slides open. She side steps to the side to allow you in without looking up.

You enter the room with quiet steps and sit on the zabuton, and before you can bow as a greeting, she lifts a hand to stop you. "There's no need." Hanami tries to mask her displeasure at seeing you, and you weren't stupid to not see it. It's just you didn't bother to point it out. Since she has an important matter to discuss and it involves you, Hanami decides to make it quick so your face isn't a constant reminder of your Aunt.

Hanami: "You're going to take over on welcoming my niece."

You: "Pardon? Isn't that supposed to be Lady Eisha's role?"

"Yes, it is," Hanami spoke as a matter of fact, "due to her ailing health, this task might be arduous for her since the doctor has told her to stay warm, so Eisha is taking bed rest to recover. Thus I'm assigning this to you."

Well, this is news to you. Out of all the people she could've picked, she had chosen you for such a task. You would have thought she might select one of the lower concubines to do the job. With her blatant prejudice against you. "Wouldn't any other concubine be better for the job?"

"Are you shrinking your role as the second wife of my son?" Hanami blurts out in annoyance as her tone rises an octave high; she looks up and down at you repeatedly with quick eyes. Like, you have gone crazy for even suggesting that.

With lips service smile, you retort back politely, "Head Mother, you seem to be offended by my innocent question. I'm only asking since you seem to tolerate my presence barely, let alone we haven't spoken to one another within five years of being married to your son. The only time we spoke was, instead, very brief and short, two days after the wedding consummation." It was the first greeting for the mother as a new in-law from the wife or concubine as respect.

Hanami clenches her jaws tightly; your sharp tongue and dim-witted acting seem to prick her nerves. You and your Aunt are very much alike in some ways, unbearable and arrogant. "Are you going to refuse my order?"

"Ah no," you quickly reply, "that would bring shame if I didn't uphold my duty as the second wife of Sukuna and Lady Eisha's left hand too."

Hanami didn't know if what you said was pure mockery, but each passing second in this room with you got her blood pumping in anger. "Since you have understood, you're dismissed."

You courteously bow deliberately (on purpose) to bid farewell before standing up with grace. Hanami was sure you were playing with her; your ungenuine smile wasn't even hidden. She curses daily due to her son's favoritism of you; you're like a plague that never vacates. And have you grown uncouth that you don't even respect her?

"Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) will be taking over Lady Eisha's task of welcoming your cousin in a few days," Uraume informed their master, who quirked a brow.

"Oh? So that brat of a cousin is visiting?" He asked no one in particular; it was more of saying it to himself out loud. "Mother has finally given her such an important task for once." The thought of his Mother warming up to you sounds so funny that he can't help but chuckle. His Mother barely tolerates the idea of you and loathes Sukuna himself for a self-evident reason sometimes. "Make sure my wife doesn't overwork herself and help her if necessary; I'll tend to her afterward."

Uraume silently left the room, and Sukuna mulled over his thought. He rests his temple against his knuckles and watches the candlelight flicker under a breeze. But in his spare hand was a familiar thick jewel; Sukuna toys around with a gold bangle with assorted gems in various sizes, colors, and labyrinth designs indented into the gold.

It was your bangle.

After the night he had spent with you, he took what's most precious to you, and it was what was given to you by your deceased parents. There were years of work on it, seeing how the inside of the jewel was fading away from constant use. Sukuna noticed how the clasps were loose, most of all when he kept twisting the bangle around to feel every rigidity and bump.

The more he looks at it, the more something seems off.

Sukuna barely saw small noticeable lines on the inside of the bracelet; it was in the shape of a square. A small hidden compartment; if his keen and trained eyes missed that tiny detail, he deserved to be killed on a battlefield for not seeing an enemy, ambush, or assassination. Still, Sukuna was curious and grabbed a small wooden toothpick to unlock the small door.

He was surprised when multiple seeds fell out of the bracelet when he shook them out onto the table. The color of the sources was rather old, seeing how raisin and dried they were. Something stirs in his chest, and he doesn't like it. Sukuna's fierce eyes were glaring at the jarring sight before him. Cold like Hell has washed over.

"Someone, go and fetch me the doctor. Right. Now." His voice was low, with his wrath was barely concealed through clenched teeth. "Now!" Sukuna repeats their voice bellows out from his room to outside when no one makes a move to move. One male servant scamps away to do what they're told out of fear.

You're crafty. He gives you credit for that; whatever you're hiding, he would sniff it out. Sukuna then set the jeweled bracelet down and ran a hand through his hair; he puffs out a shallow breath. He's barely an anxious man, but his opinions of you and your sensitive nature slowly etched their way into his mind as he started to pick them apart one by one in a logical sense.

When emotions run high, clouds of judgment obscure his views. Sukuna is a man led by ideals and a futuristic sense; scarcely emotions ever run by him. He knew deep down when he allowed himself to feel emotions, it would cause him trouble, and he was right. Few selected people could be worthy of his regard, but to him, it didn't change his output of you very much. He dislikes being blind by someone, even so, he fully lets himself be when it comes to you, but seeing differently from a different angle, Sukuna should know that you're not soft and malleable.

You're like glass, pretty in the light, but there are still sharp edges around it. You shouldn't be underestimated. When he thought he had you at the center of his palm, you find a way to slip away. The game of chase was a back-and-forth thing, with its up and down.

Sukuna took another breath and exhaled deeply, pushing away the negative introspections.

You were busy interacting and directing where everything should go the next few days. It almost felt like a routine when you were dressed up as your alibi, Seijuro Hajime. Your breath fogs up in front of you, and your nose itches when cold air brushes against it; turning your head to the side, you sneeze.

"You should dress up warmer for the occasion," a voice snuck up behind you, and you froze for a quick second when a heavy cape was draped around your shoulders. Sukuna had made his presence known, and the servants around you suddenly worked harder than before. You were about to shrug off his cape, but his hands were on your shoulders, "Keep it on."

Another moment of pregnant silence passed through; no servants bothered to be in your and Sukuna's line of sight. They make sure to steer clear away from the invisible bubble that was presented around their Lord of the House. Sukuna presses his broad front against your back; you can feel his heat seeping through, then he slides his hands down your shoulders until it reaches your cold hands. His callous palms envelopes your own, and there was a minor battle of you struggling to tug it away.

"Could you please let me do my job," you patronize Sukuna, who only takes it as amusement and doesn't move an inch.

"No, I came here to spend time with my lovely wife." He tunes out, and his voice is much lighter, much chirpy to your liking. "Do you want to know what I discovered today?"

"No," flatly refusing him, one of Sukuna's hands retracted for a second, and you felt something cold and heard a slight click on your wrist. You look down to see your bracelet that has gone missing adorned your wrist. Toring yourself away, you whirl around to meet his eyes; you accuse him with a quiet, burning, seething look, "So it was you who took it."

The corners of his lips quirk up. You have spent days looking for your precious bangle, even flipping your room upside down. You didn't think it was this menacing man in front of you swiping it right under your nose during that day he had forcefully bedded you. You even thought that you lost it during your outing to the castle and that anyone could pick it up and pawn it to set themselves up for life.

"It was a pretty little thing; I know it was a special gift to you from your parents. So I took it as an inspiration to see your taste, as you never wore what I gifted. " Sukuna explains while lazily giving you a nonchalant expression without losing his carefree nature. He lops his head to the side, "And here's the fun part, I fixed your little bracelet problems for you."

You clench your jaws and roll your eyes again with a deep breath, "There's nothing wrong with it."

"No, no, no," Sukuna tuts out as if he's dealing with a lying child, "There is a problem with it. You, my lovely wife here, have been plotting something bigger against me this whole time." The light in his eyes darkened and was replaced with something entirely devious. Mentally preparing yourself, Sukuna brushes his knuckles against your cold, bitten, ample red cheeks. "There are many things I've been tolerating from you," Sukuna's tone reeks of hurt and betrayal, despite failing to mask it, "but not this."

The hand caressing your cheek was suddenly behind your nape; Sukuna grips, and for once, he didn't care how he made you look in front of his servants, who were surprised at his treatment. Many hold their breath and further avoid the personal bubble as they could see trouble brewing between you both. All we're opting the long way to complete their task.

"You know I always wanted a child with you, but seriously, basil seeds?" Sukuna let out a haughty laugh when he saw your expression crumble a bit from fear of realization that he knew. "Yes, I now know what has caused your infertility."

The smile he wore never seemed so big and scary in front of you. Your mind was repeatedly reeling that Sukuna knew. He. Knew. Now you're not safe, and you can no longer avoid his advances.

Sukuna could see the vulnerability displayed before him; this was what he was waiting for. You're so open for him to take and relish. "I admire the length you're willing to go, and honestly, I genuinely do." You don't know what will come out of his mouth anymore. "No one can save you from me now. Not even your precious bracelet."

[Days Ago]

Sukuna patiently waited for the physician to arrive at his headquarters while drumming his fingers against the dark red oak table. His eyes trail to your bracelet that sticks out like a sore thumb, along with the seeds. The doors to his room snap open as the physician enters. "Finally," Sukuna said out loud; he has patience, but not today.

The doctor stopped in front of Sukuna and greeted him with a bow. "Lord Sukuna, w-what seems to be the problem?"

The man smirked, "You always seem to tremble whenever you meet me, but never mind that," Sukuna motioned with his head where the bracelet and seeds lay, "Tell me what is on the table." The physician saw and quickly took action.

They took a seed and examined it before sniffing it, and a faint scent emitted. "My Lord, this is basil seed."

Sukuna: "Basil?"

"Yes, basil." They confirmed it.

"What's so special about it?" Sukuna asks with interest.

"Lord Sukuna, basil seeds are used for many things, and especially if consuming it, doing it in small quantities once in a while not to cause side effects. Too much may cause bloating and abdominal pain. This is also used to help... " The medic explains in tangent detail.

"Then explain why it was inside the bracelet." Sukuna cuts to the chase when asking about something the doctor does and tends to run their mouth sometimes.

"A-Ah, yes." He took the bracelet from the table, "May I ask who the bracelet belongs to?"

Sukuna: "(Name)."

The doctor should not be surprised it was you. They took a moment to examine the bracelet and saw the open compartment door and sniffed the inside of the bangle, and found traces of it. "My Lord, how long has Lady (Name) worn this bracelet?"

The sound of urgency in his voice caught Sukuna's interest. "For as long as I married her. It was from her parents. What's the problem?"

Since there was no time stamp on how long, the doctor could only conclude one thing, "If Lady (Name) has worn this for a long time, then the cause of her infertility could be this all along." The words are like a cold wake-up call from the doctor; Sukuna's eyelids droop low with fury. The thought of you, 'How dare you (Name).' The doctor nervously continues, "Long exposure to basil seeds entering the bloodstream could thin out the blood, affect her hormones, and even her menstrual cycles. This could also explain—"

Sukuna raised a hand for the medic to shut their mouth as he was complimented on how he should deal with you and what he had just learned today. At first, he took your bracelet to understand your personal preferences, then return it to you later, and now he doesn't regret stumbling onto your long secret by chance. The amount of time he had bed you and you failed to conceive a child was out.

"You're dismissed, and keep your mouth shut." Then he looks at the corner where Uraume resides, "Take the bracelet to get it modified from a nearby jeweler. Fix the clasps and seal the door."

•

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[ineedmorevat7kinmylife]

We were learning about Chinese history recently, and I found out that the Chinese tended to hoard scientific info a bunch. (silk, gunpowder) So what if Yong's kingdom had some sort of secret science that none of the other kingdoms have, and he accidentally lets it slip during one of their adventures or something?

I dunno, just something stupid I thought of.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey miss raven! How are you? Recently i read trey story event card Al'ab Nariya. They are discussing about flames reaction from mixing gunpowder with various metals causing coloured flames in fireworks. Trey said because magic is not common among people, humans relying on science on other thing. Does that mean magic and science coexist together in twst world? How about technology development does that involved colab on magitek and science? Like the magiwheel. They are magitek but does science also involved in the development? Then we have the infamous STYX organization on their research on blot. From what we see, they have more advanced technology than what the general public have. Like the flying cars, the building itself and ortho new gear clearly they combine magitek and science to help their research with blot. Trey also implied that science club also researched on science competition. We all know NRC is magic academy but do they also learn about science? Then does NRC has science in their curriculum like biology, physics and chemistry? A lot of question still inside my brain i cant say more about it 😅 sorry it's turning into a wall of text i just can't get that off! I hope you have a great day! Cheers!

As I’ve theorized in this post, the basis for Twisted Wonderland’s society is the mundane, not the magical. Most of society operates without magic, and that extends to schooling and jobs. Since most people don’t have the capacity for magic, most schools teach normal subjects and those students go on to acquire normal occupations. Magic exists on its own (potions, magic mirrors), non-magic exists on its own (traditional medicine, cellphones), AND a mix of the two exists (healing potions, looking mirrors).

There are many instances within TWST when characters will make reference to “normal” things, such as Trey talking about chemistry and elements from the periodic table in the Silk Adorned vignette (already mentioned by anon). Azul and Deuce frequently mention mathematics or doing arithmetic (usually in regards to money), so non-magical math is implied. Topics like biology and physics are also either directly stated or alluded to. Crewel is even stated to lead the “Science” department at NRC. I would imagine that, similar to theory before application, NRC students need to know these non-magical subjects before combining them in practice with magic.

The same probably applies for the development of inventions that incorporate magical and non-magical elements; there would have to at least be mages trained in the non-magical variant of whatever field they’re in in order to safely and ethically incorporate magic into new medicine or technology. STYX for example is stated to recruit people with low magical reserves, so they are not proficient mages despite having access to crazy tech. Those employees must have hard and technical skills to make them competent researchers of blot.

[charthurlover]

What perfume/cologne would the Van Der Linde gang wear

hi!! this is my first tumblr post, and i don’t exactly know how to do this or work the app, so forgive me if this is horribly worded or confusing.

anyways, this is my opinion on what colognes or perfumes the gang would wear. horses and cain included, since they are technically a member of the gang!!

Abigail -

something woodsy, maybe like the forest or a campfire, cedar wood, trees, plants.

examples:

- G-Water

- Tam Dao

- Snoqualine

Arthur -

tobacco, scent of alcohol, mud, outdoors.

examples:

- Jasmin et Cigarette

- Rien

- Earthworm

Baylock -

ashes, grease.

examples:

- Tobacco Blaze

- Garage

- La Yuquam Homme

Bill -

any popular male fragrances, or like gunpowder and fire.

examples:

- 9mm Ballistic Therapy

- High Noon

- Campfire Nights

Boaz -

dynamite, money.

examples:

- Wall Street

- Don Xerjoff

- 1805 Tonnerre BeauFort London

Branwen -

oatcakes, apples, water.

examples:

- Lostmarch Lann-Ael

- Be Delicious

- Cavalli Acqua

Bob -

blood, gunpowder, sweat.

examples:

- Vena Cava

- Richard Dark Side

- Secretions Magnefique

Brown Jack

pomade, alcohol, blood.

examples:

- Classic Fragrance

- Heeley Agarwood

- Molotov Cocktail

Cain -

dog, mud, grass.

examples:

- La Panthere Edition Soir

- Grass

- Zoologist Bat

Charles -

light florals, nature, clean fur.

examples:

- Coach Floral

- Super Cedar

- Coyote

Dutch -

blood, metal, tears.

examples:

- Vassago

- Spacewalk

- Rainy Season of Dresden

Davey -

snow, wood, fire.

examples:

- Waltz of the Snowflakes

- Tobacco Vanille

- Inquisitor

Enis -

whiskey, beer, grass.

examples:

- Tom Oud

- Stout ‘n Smoke

- Dune Road

Grimshaw -

sulfur, metal, cinnamon.

examples:

- Bloody Smoke

- Vanille Absolu

- Jupiter

Gwydion -

birds, leather, salt.

examples:

- Seemannn

- Black Saffron

- Millésime Impérial

Hosea -

moonshine, stew, metal.

examples:

- Moscow Mule

- Starfish & Coffee

- Santal 33

Jack -

water, horse, corn oil.

examples:

- Petrichor

- Cuir de Russie

- Seems Legit

Javier -

mahogany, cotton, musk.

examples:

- Redwood Leaves

- Lazy Sunday Morning

- Urban Musk

Jenny -

snow, wool, wood.

examples:

- Redwood Mist

- Battaniye

- Grey Vetiver

John -

sweat, musk, grease

examples:

- Flores Negras

- Silver Musk

- Cristina La Veneno Ni Puta Ni Santa

Kieran -

blood, grass, oats.

examples:

- Hora de la Verdad Sombra

- Figuier Eden

- Harran

Karen -

beer, guns, whiskey.

examples:

- Beguile

- Wicked John

- Kutay

Lenny -

blood, books, bullets.

examples:

- Seems Legit

- Diamonitirion - elixir atonit

- Moon Child

Mac -

metal, bullets, kerosene.

examples:

- Craft

- Iron Duke

- Nuvolari Rubini

Maggie -

dirt, stone, bog.

examples:

- Le Sillage Blanc

- During the Rain

- Swamp elixir

Mary-Beth -

books, ink, gold.

examples:

- Bibliophilia: Love of Books

- Supreme Vanilla

- Royal Blood

Micah -

rot, corn, mold.

examples:

- Saint Louis Cemetery #1

- Funerie

- French Kiss

Molly -

roses, grass, trees.

examples:

- Roses Musk

- Leila Lou

- Colors de Benetton

Nell II -

sweat, cows, pig.

examples:

- Amyi 3.17

- Cuir de Russie

- Hyrax

Old Belle -

carrots, beer, hay.

examples:

- Carotte

- Sónar

- Basilico & Fellini

Old Boy -

musk, tears, cow.

examples:

- Another 13

- Ozone

- Osmanthus

Pearson -

meat, vegetables, crawfish.

examples:

- Gino: Steak Scented Eau de Parfum

- Eau de Cuisine

- Wild Carrot Oud

Reverend -

whiskey, incense, coffee.

examples:

- 7 Loewe

- Bourbon e Fava Tonka

- Black Opium

Sadie -

blood, tears, gunpowder.

examples:

- Bull’s Blood 2nd Edition

- Cool Glacier

- Rendez-Vous!

Sean -

whiskey, sweat, bullets.

examples:

- Malt Akro

- Monochrome

- Amour Nocturne

Silver Dollar -

fire, wool, metal.

examples:

- Encens Pyro

- The Sheepfold, Moonlight

- Rosenrot

Taima -

deer, blood, meat.

examples:

- Ma Bete

- Trinity Blood

- Good Girl Gone Bad

The Count -

sugarcubes, peaches, pears.

examples:

- Pixie Dust

- Allure Eau de Parfum

- First Base

Trelawny -

doves, rabbits, silk.

examples:

- Ruğa Sablo

- Wet Garden

- Baklava Musk

Tilly -

bullets, baby powder, swamps.

examples:

- 266ts Pontiff’s Harley

- Cashmere Mist Eau de Toilette

- Haxan

Uncle -

manure, horse, cow.

examples:

- D’zing

- L’heure Fougueuse

- Zoologist Cow

again, this is my first post so i’m very sorry about it being bad or isn’t looking right for tumblr. so sorry.