#i have awaken from tumblr slumber

[thepuppetgal]

TFP Optimus Prime portrait ‼️

Him < 3

[stupidhany]

Planning and infodumping

[2kiran]

hiii hihihi 🫶🏽 got two things

first off, your blog was like my whole reason. honestly. idek how to put it, your writing is immaculate and if i’m gonna be completely honest i joined tumblr cuz of you lol, i don’t think that there’s like any better top male reader blog than yours icl. ‘preciate your writings a lot 🩶

second, if you can i do have a request; harddom!m!reader is asleep but wakes up to sub!keegan weakly bouncing on and cockwarming the reader, with some overstim + a lottt of orgasm denial, so much that keegan passes out and they both fall back asleep together. oh yeah, and the amount of times he’s denied orgasm we carve tallies into him (knife kink omfffhg). pretty much it !

may i also be ⛓️‍💥 anon?

2knote. hello?? thank you so much. I’m very honored, you’re wayy too kind for this. and yeah, absolutely. ⌖ RATED XPLICIT 18+

Awakening to a familiar heat, snug and slick, it has blood rush south of your body and thicken your cock with veritable, unadulterated desire—Wait, what?

You jolt, the action met with a breathless whimper and calloused palms land on your chest. The veil of tranquil slumber lifted, rapidly clearing the murk which had formed in your brain. Your eyes snap wide open, a ragged gasp tearing itself from your throat.

“What the—” You inhale, gaze adjusting to the darkness and soon trailing to the area in between Keegan’s thighs. His hips never paused, lacking strength in his grinds that are too weak to be proper bounces, to be anything. “—fuck are you doing?”

The male in question, Keegan, shamefully mewled upon registering the scratchy rumble of your hoarse voice. He clenched, pornography-worthy in how he’s so fucking tight, and he knows it. He takes advantage of the sweet, promising grip of his hole to greedily take all of you in for his own pleasure.

“I’m sorry,” Keegan whines, rolling forward, your tip nudging his prostate. “Ngh, I n-need you, I–”

He’s interrupted by his own moan, husky and wanton. He breathes out, slowly, his hole peppering kisses along the bulging veins of your cock in abrupt, wet squeezes. His thighs tremble from having to keep himself upright, legs aching as he raises his ass to ride you, only for you to bottom out when his knees buckle.

“Stop.”

He stiffens, his puzzled brain glueing the missing scraps of his intellect together as he fumbled to submit. Keegan’s pupils dilated, pinkish hue dusting his cheeks pretty, and he anticipated with bated breath. His mouth fell agape, senses consumed by the primal function to take what you offer him.

The sensitive head of his cock sobbed with lust, the entire length glistening with arousal. “You’re not cumming ‘till I say you can,” you announce with a hum, shifting to reach for the knife by the nightstand. It was originally intended for precaution, though it wasn’t necessary when you’re entirely protected by the man drunk off your dick.

But with the newfound alternative, it’s used more than it should be. “You got it?”

Keegan had the urge to cry out in frustration. He’s been so good for you, so patient. You should—no, you have to give him what he wants. He doesn’t have an ounce of true brattiness left in him to tell you that, his response a simple nod.

His eyes catch onto the swift movement of you twisting the handle in your grip, the known material like daily clothing now. “Answer.”

He gasps in surprise, goosebumps lapping feverishly at his skin. The warning is immediate, a press of the side of the blade against his bare thigh, the steel freezing and sinister. “Y-yes.”

Yes, but, a train of thoughts driven by desperation begins to rule his mind, I’m so fucking close. I need you to fuck me, not this. Damn it. Outwardly, his eyebrows are drawn together in an angered line.

You hum a light tune, Keegan’s expressions—ones of filthy nature—are comprehensible notes you can play even if you aren’t a musician. Unceremoniously, the knife is angled to the inner side of his thigh and you plunge it in without further consideration. It eagerly breaks skin, his leg jerks and he yelps in surprise, causing the weapon to draw a blood-dotted slash.

“Ahhng- fuck! Wh..what?” Keegan cries out, the pain a suffocating bandage that seizes his form within a death-guaranteed clutch. It hurts, overriding the separator of agony and rapture. You thrust into him, effectively quieting him down to a gasp. “Shut up and fuck yourself on me, yeah?”

His bottom lip quivers, his hands cautiously roam your build until they curl around the framing of your shoulders. God, the emotions stirring in his marathon-beating heart makes it all too easy for him to obey, to have him move his hips like a mutt.

Keegan leans forward, and you tilt your head off the side to offer him access. He takes it, nuzzling his cheek against your neck. The puff of breath he releases is shaky, wobbly as though he was willing himself not to cry.

Mustering up the vitality, he rises until his entrance is swallowing the very tip of your dick. Something heated crimps in the depths of his guts, twisting in compressed knots that threaten to unwind.

It intensifies as he flings himself down, dragging out a raspy moan of “Hmmng-!” with letters of your name added in-between pathetic grunts. He greedily takes in your length, his sudden clenching earns him a long groan. “C’mon... do it. Ride my cock, Kee.”

That was a threat. He whimpers, his head swinging side to side, “I’m, I’m gonna cum. Please, fuck.”

Whick!

Beside the new wound, you swing the knife along the pure skin. The cut is deeper, and he nearly screams.

Thick, red fluid oozes out, gruesome beads sticking to the steel. Pre-cum drips from Keegan’s slit, his hips grinding forward to maintain the contact, the friction burning away the discomfort. “What did I tell you?” You wrench a hand into his hair, yanking him back. Your teeth descend into a particularly sensitive area on his throat, sucking in an angry marking.

His hole reacts to your borderline aggressiveness in rhythmical spasms, ones that tell you he’ll tip over the edge. It wasn’t his fault he was close to bursting any second. You’re too mean, never allotting him the time that’ll grant him recovery.

And he has too many blood that he’ll let you waste.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“Hagh... nnmm...”

There’s a feeble ringing in Keegan’s head, the deprivation of flowing life pumping inside of him drowning out anything ever-rational. Your own legs were tainted with a rather disgusting combination.

Harsh lines were indented into the strong layer of his inner thigh, sticky fluid pooling beneath him. A barrier of haze was trapped in his brain, resulting in him losing track of the amount of cuts you’ve inflicted on him.

Has it been four? Six? Perhaps nine?

A mortified wave sweeps across his features. He feels like a cheap, good-for-two-dollars whore.

Yet it feels so fucking good. The risk, the hefty lust blanketing the both of you—all of it. Your release steadily leaked out, a creamy sheen surrounding the base of your length.

A weak moan is what he’s only able to free when the blade sinks into him again, inches dividing the weapon from his core. He’s aching to the point he’s past pleasure, tears streaming down his cheeks as he falls limp against you.

Keegan has been wrapped around your thick cock for longer than he ever has, and he hasn’t cum once - until your rough hand coils to squeeze his shaft, wrist working up and down into slow, calculated strokes that rush him to completion. “Fu-uck, thank you, nfghh shit, t-thank you.” He groans, long and almost a desperate growl. Arousal zaps up his muscled, scarred back lightning-quick.

Hot, blinding white clasps its iron-grip on his wet dick, pearly strands finally, finally shooting out and his rim clenches down tight around you. But you don’t relent. Not yet.

You tug and tug and tug him through his high, forcing him to choke on a split whimper. “Too...” he exhales, torn between rocking into your palm or shoving himself away, “t-too, hfmm, much.”

It aches. His body tightens, tension hinged at his joints and locks until he’s aching. This time, he doesn’t anticipate it when it arrives. He quakes violently against your form, eyes rolling back into his skull, soft sobs echoing throughout the space separating the two of you. “Take it. You can handle this much, can’t you?”

He whines, the sound weak in volume. Your palm is continuously coated with slickness, smearing the wetness each time your stroke reaches the narrow entrance, pressing on it firm enough to reward yourself with his almost-pained grunt. Keegan squirms, attempting to worm his way free from your intoxicating grasp.

God, fuck, his dick is so sore from your torture. Darkness dots the corners of his eyes, his vision beginning to swim. The sensation of your hand clenching around his length fades, disappearing into the void of his blank-state mind. He faintly senses himself twitching, cum splattering on his thighs and on you. With one last exhausted whimper, dreamless fog consumes him entirely.

You set aside the knife, the item in your hand replaced by a towel. Your thumb circles mindless patterns on his nape, rocking him to sleep. Wiping him off, he stirs slightly.

“Hmmm?” He mutters, consciousness slipping into him again.

“Go back to sleep.” You shush, cleaning yourself up before you toss the dirtied rag away and gently lay him next to you.

Keegan nods, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him. A tired, gentle smile rests on his lips before he whispers; “G’night.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - poor little sleeping beauty (you) has a tough day, from finding out who she really is, and falling into a deep slumber. is the prince able to awaken her?

warning - smut, somnophilia, dubcon (all my characters consent), choking, spitting kink, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, wife kink, kidnapping, cursed.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You were shocked to learn the truth, finding out you were a princess and that your real name wasn’t Briar Rose, you were told your parents had named you Y/n and that they had to send you off with the fairies because a woman named Maleficent cursed you. You had to take a few moments to collect yourself, learning that they were to take you back on your eighteenth birthday, which meant you were due to leave your home any moment now to go back to where your family supposedly lived. 

As the four of you began to head off, your mind was full, thinking about your family, the curse, and the man you had met earlier that day. Oh, he was so handsome. You were saddened to hear the news that you were to be betrothed the moment you got to the castle. You didn’t want to be married off to a man you did not know. It didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if you spoke to your parents, they would understand and let you be with the man in the woods. 

After the long walk, you had finally arrived at the palace, staring up at it with wide eyes, gobsmacked at the sheer size of it. The guards moved out of the way as you walked closer to the entrance, letting you in. Your blue dress that the fairies made as a birthday present clung to your body with each step. Small hands touched your arm, causing you to look down at Fauna. “We will have to leave you for a bit, my dear. We have some business to attend to before you are able to meet your parents.” 

You give a soft smile. “That is alright, Fauna. I’ll be okay.” You assure them, watching as they leave. You begin to look around, admiring the artwork that litters the walls. Suddenly, a wisp of light appears in front of you. Your mind starts to go fuzzy as it pulls you into a trance, and your legs begin to follow as the light moves away from you, leading you toward a secret panel that opens when you are near. You walk up the winding staircase and into the hidden room.

Maleficent’s voice fills the room, coaxing you. “Touch the spindle! Touch it, I say!” Her command fills your ears, taking over your mind, and you have no choice but to obey. Your mind had taken over your legs, causing you to walk over to it. Your hand lifts, finger pointed, before a soft gasp escapes you when the spindle pricks your finger, causing it to bleed. You fall, eyes slipping closed into a deep slumber, not knowing of the dangers that lie ahead. Maleficent cackles as she appears over your unconscious body. “Oh, what a dumb girl.” She smirks as she spies into your mind and sees you dreaming of a man. “Hmm, if you want that man so badly, I guess I could give him to you.”

It was too late when the fairies realised what had happened. They looked at each other with wide eyes. They quickly become their former selves, allowing their wings and magic to take over and lead them to where you are. They would never have expected to be met with you, knocked out into a deep slumber with the one who cursed you standing above you in the same room. Their hearts race as Maleficent looks at the three with a deadly smirk, knowing they wouldn’t be strong enough to stop her. 

“The three fairies! Flora, Fauna and…” Maleficent cocks her head to the side, “Merryweather, I’m guessing?” She waves her hand, scoffing. “Oh, well. I don’t care. I assume you came to get your girl? It is a shame. She would’ve done some good for the world.” She reaches down, running her fingers through your hair. “But, I’m willing to show the princess that the world isn’t so good and colourful. Goodbye.” With a wave of Maleficent’s hand, you and she disappear, causing the fairies to set off in a panic, frightened to tell your father, the king, the news. 

Maleficent lays you on a soft bed, watching you as you sleep. “M–Maleficent, my queen. T–the prince, we found him…” She turns, raising a brow, waiting for her henchman to spit it out. “It seems he is waiting for the princess at the cabin, h–he seems impatient.”

“Hmm, that sounds perfect. Bring him to me!” She waves her hand before looking down at you. “You’re going to have so much fun, little one, and instead of true love’s kiss.” She scrunches her nose as those words leave her lips, not believing in such a thing. “Let’s make it something more… Extreme.” A dark grin appears on her face, knowing what the prince would do once he saw you. Her crow told her how the two of you got along in the woods and how the man couldn’t stop staring at your soft breasts and plump arse. 

Ransom struggled against the henchmen, growling and swearing as they dragged him along. “Get your filthy paws off me! I’ll kill you for touching me! Don’t you know who I am!” The henchmen just shrug and huff, not caring. One of them grabs a cloth and stuffs it into the young prince’s mouth, wanting some quiet. They finally make it up to the room you are held in, throwing Ransom inside. 

“Ah, finally.” Maleficent walks over, tilting his head up with her finger underneath his chin. “Hmm, you are quite handsome.” Her eyes drag across his face, getting what you see in him. Ransom’s brows furrow, unable to speak with the cloth in his mouth, his eyes fall upon your sleeping form, and he begins to wonder what the hell is happening. “But, you are not for me… Princess Y/n continues to think of you, and as you can see, she is currently in a deep slumber.” Maleficent leans closer to his ear, whispering. “Why don’t you find a way to wake her up.” She cackles as she straightens and waves her hand, disappearing in a puff of smoke.

His binds and cloth disappearing along with her, Ransom grumbles, shaking his head. “Fucking witches.” He stands, brushing off his clothes, and his head lifts as he peers at you, eyes drifting down your body. “Huh, so you’re the princess I’m meant to marry.” He walks close, tapping the blanket with the tip of his fingers. “I was ready to fuck you as a mere peasant girl, but knowing that you are much more, it’s so much better.”

It’s as though your body knows he is near. Your nipples harden and slick gathers between your thighs, your dreams turning sexual and dirty. You shift in your sleep, letting out a soft whimper as you dream of the handsome man in the woods, bending you over the log and thrusting into your tight cunt. 

Ransom smirks as he watches you squirm. His cock hardens when he hears soft whimpers escape you. “Fuck, sweetheart. You sound so good, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He strips from his clothes, sighing as his cock springs free from his slacks, no longer feeling tight and suffocated. Ransom pulls the blanket away from your body, his cock twitching when his gaze lands on your dress, wondering if it could get any tighter. He slowly gets onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lifting your dress higher as he moves up your body. “So beautiful, and all mine.” He pampers you with kisses, kissing up your body until he reaches your face. 

Ransom groans when his leaking member connects with your bare cunt, and he grips his thick base, rubbing his swollen tip through your sopping folds. “Jesus, you’re so wet, sweetheart. What or who is making you so wet?” He raises his brow in jealousy, wondering who you could be dreaming of when he is here for you. “You know what? If you’re going to be a little slut in your dreams. Then I’m going to treat you like one.” Ransom growls, sick of competing with someone else when you should only be focused on him. He aligns his mushroom tip with your tight hole before thrusting in. His eyes close as he grunts, never having felt someone like you before. 

Sweet moans pass your lips, dreaming of the handsome man in the woods gently lying you onto a blanket on the ground, pressing his hips into yours as he buries himself deeply into you, making love to you, marking your skin with his hands and lips. Your back arches in your dreams, arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back. 

Ransom moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit, sweetheart, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. You’re sweet walls are fluttering around me like crazy.” He buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses along your skin and thrusting harder and faster into your sweet honey pot. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Getting lost in how good you feel around his member, he hastily grabs a pillow and shoves it under your hips before gripping them, giving him leverage. “When you wake, I’ll continue to fuck you. I’ll fuck you every day, even after you become my wife. I’ll pump you full every single day and night. You won’t think of looking at another man when you have me.”

He nuzzles closer to you, pounding harder as he kisses your cheek, moving closer to your lips, his eyes slipping closed, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. “You’re mine, my sweet Y/n. All mine.” The moment his lips connect with yours, magic explodes around the two of you. Your eyes fly open, arms wrapping around him and your back arches. Ransom smirks, tilting his head back as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. “Ah, my sweet little sleeping beauty is finally awake. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Do you feel me inside you? Fucking into you, claiming you?” He fucks into you deeper, hitting against the hidden spot inside you. Ransom cups your cheek, glaring down at you with lust-filled eyes. His thumb lands on your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. “You’re mine, understood?” 

You whimper, feeling yourself throb around his cock, never having experienced pleasure like this before. Your mind is cloudy, being pulled from your dream to see it come true with the man you’ve fallen for. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his soft flesh. “O–oh, it feels so good, my prince!” You scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to pound into that spot, allowing Ransom to spit directly into your mouth, smirking as you immediately swallow. 

Ransom moves his hand between you, rubbing and rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. Enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his thick cock, he continues to pound into you, the hand that cups your cheek, moves to your throat and squeezes. “You’re going to cum for me, sleeping beauty, and then. I will pump you so full of my cum that it leaks out of you for months.” Your sweet moans fill the room, walls tighten around Ransom, your back arches, and you cum, your juices squirt out of you, covering everything. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

He captures your lips with his, thrusting harder and deeper until his cock twitches and his eyes slip closed. Ransom groans when his end approaches, burying himself deep inside you and emptying thick spurts of cum, coating your walls and filling you to the brim. He begins kissing down, resting on your neck, leaving soft kisses in his path. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Ransom lifts his head and stares deeply into your eyes, his softening cock still deep inside you, blocking his cum from leaking out. “You’re now mine forever.”

You hum, feeling your eyes begin to droop again. You would later learn not to fall in love with the first handsome man you laid your eyes upon. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[genshinluvr]

Burning Desire 4

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader (Al Haitham x Isekai'd!Reader)

Summary: Awaken from your slumber due to the burning pit in your stomach, you decide to take a shower early morning, hoping it will cool you off. After your shower, you leave your bedroom to see a shirtless Al Haitham reading a book at your desk. You weren't sure why Al Haitham is in your bedroom, but he has his reasons for visiting you.

Note: I've been busy dealing with some things outside of my fanfics, and I haven't been able to type as much as I would like. Therefore, Al Haitham's smut is a bit shorter than the previous routes in the Burning Desire smut series. Again, the smut routes aren't supposed to be as long as the first "chapter" of the series and Crave. It's pure smut and has no plot, so some smut will be shorter depending on how it flows. As previously stated in my previous smut-fics, I tried to keep the story as gender-neutral as possible. All of my smuts do lean towards female!reader/AFAB!reader with gender-neutral pronouns. As usual, minors DO NOT INTERACT! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Horribly written smut, as per usual ✨ slight masturbation/groping (?), orgasm denial, mating press, fingering, handjob, cervix fucking, slight choking, doggy style, slight overstimulation, slight voyeurism

Word Count: 4.1k

Burning Desire "chapters"/routes: [1], [2], [3], [4]

You tried to sleep, but the burning pit in your stomach was unbearable. You’re worn out from getting dicked down by Scaramouche and Tighnari, and you can use some sleep. Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t look like that’s going to be happening any time soon. You would fall asleep for a few hours but wake up to the unbearable throbbing between your legs. You need someone to drill their cock into you, or else you will go crazy. 

The first thing you did when you wake up for the umpteenth time in the middle of the night is to masturbate. It provided a small amount of relief, but the same feeling will come back. The same burning desire will hit you like a sumpter beast, causing you to writhe around on your bed despite having your fingers buried deep in your entrance and cumming multiple times. Okay, well, ‘multiple times’ is a bit of an exaggeration— three times is the correct number.

Archons, you even went as far as taking a cold shower at four in the morning while everyone was still sleeping in their beds. You’re hoping the men who have a keen sense of hearing and smell don’t wake up to your activities. That would be even more embarrassing. The shower lasts almost two hours— your body’s really hot, and the cold water raining down on you feels so nice that it nearly makes you forget that you inhaled a large amount of aphrodisiac. 

You step out of your bathroom, hair still drenched from your shower. You stop in your tracks when you see the Scribe sitting at your desk, reading a book. You blink at Al Haitham and peek at the clock in your bedroom. It’s almost six in the morning, and yet the gray-haired man is in your bedroom, wearing nothing but gray silk pajama pants.

You rub your eyes and gingerly sit on your bed. “Al Haitham? What are you doing up around this time?” You ask, getting under your blanket.

You squeeze your eyes shut briefly when the ache between your legs spikes up when you press your thighs together. You’re hoping that Al Haitham either leaves your room soon or he buries his cock inside you until you wake up everyone in the abode. Your mind is constantly racing ever since you breathe in the aphrodisiac, and you can never get peace of mind. Al Haitham closes his book, turning to face you and spreading his legs wide open. You gulp and look away, running your hands through your damp hair to distract yourself from looking at the faint tent forming in his pajama pants. 

Al Haitham rests his arm on the armrest, staring at you intently in the darkness of your room. Light peeking through the blackout curtains of your room, illuminating your bedroom. You gulp and hug your knees to your chest, waiting for Al Haitham to say something. Al Haitham sighs and leans back in his seat; you can see his muscles ripple and flex whenever he moves. Archons, he is so handsome. 

“I wanted to check up on you. I didn’t think you’d be awake so early,” says Al Haitham, crossing his arms over his chest.

Archons. The way his biceps flexes when he crosses his arms over his chest. You gulp and lie down, not taking your eyes off the gray-haired Scribe. Why is Al Haitham acting so casual with you when he knows you’re having inner turmoil. You want to skin yourself alive for feeling this way. The intense need for someone to be buried balls deep inside your entrance until you’re crying and begging for them to give you a break.

You nod, trying to act casual. “My bedroom was hot, and I was sweating in my sleep. I didn’t want to lay in a puddle of sweat, so I went to take a shower,” you lie.

Al Haitham hums, nodding slowly. You curl up into a ball, waiting for Al Haitham to leave your room. Judging by the way he’s sitting on the chair near your desk, you don’t think he will be leaving your bedroom any time soon. Al Haitham suddenly stands up, stretching his arms in the air and yawning. You blink and quickly look at the tent in his pants before looking away before Al Haitham can catch you in the act. You pretend to look at the clock, gesturing to it.

“I think you should go to bed. It’s still early in the morning,” you say, pulling your blanket up to your chin and closing your eyes. 

Al Haitham raises his eyebrows at you. “Oh? You want me to leave already? I thought you would want me to help you with your problem,” Al Haitham says nonchalantly, walking toward your bed.

You crack an eye open and nearly jump out of your skin when you see how close he is to you. Al Haitham kneels on your bed and towers over you, caging you against your bed with his arms on both sides of your head while you look up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Al Haitham tilts his head, cocking an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to respond. 

You clear your throat, snuggling deep into your blanket to distract yourself from Al Haitham’s stare and the dampness pooling in your underwear. Al Haitham is so freaking breathless— the veins on his arms are driving you crazy. He’s so handsome, and he knows it. Al Haitham clears his throat, grabbing you by the chin to have you look into his eyes. 

“Are you going to answer my question or not?” Al Haitham asks.

You nod sheepishly, making Al Haitham look at you skeptically. 

“Is that a yes to the question I just asked or the previous question?”

You stare at Al Haitham and rub the back of your neck. “I do want you to help me, but it’s embarrassing, and it’s too early in the morning to be having sex,” you mutter.

Al Haitham clicks his tongue and releases your chin, now sitting at the edge of your bed. You sit up and rest your chin on your knees, staring at the gray-haired man before you. Al Haitham leans back and runs his fingers through his bedhead. Archons, his bedhead is too cute. For someone who’s aching to get railed, you act like a prude— despite having two men fucking a couple of orgasms from you.

Al Haitham strokes his chin. “You don’t have to worry about waking the others if you can keep your volume to a minimum,” Al Haitham comments, grabbing at his aching cock through his silk pajamas.

You gulp and watch Al Haitham stroke and squeeze his cock. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you realize Al Haitham is staring at you, waiting for you to respond. How are you going to keep your volume at a minimal volume when you have something thick or long pistoning into your entrance?

“But there are people in the abode that have a keen sense of hearing, Al Haitham,” you whine.

Al Haitham squeezes the base of his cock through his pajama pants, grunting quietly when you whine his name. You cover your face, trying to get the image of Al Haitham hovering over you out of your head. Al Haitham releases his dick and crawls over you, pinning you down on your bed.

“So? What are they going to do about it, hmm? I am helping you, aren’t I?” Al Haitham mutters, brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek before peppering kisses on your cheek.

Al Haitham is not wrong about that. The aphrodisiac is still in your system, and it doesn’t seem like it’s not going away any time soon. Plus, the aphrodisiac is just the same as it was when the symptoms kicked in. You don’t think you can handle the thought of Al Haitham plowing into you while the others are asleep and when Gorou and Tighnari can wake up to the littlest sounds coming from you.

You close your eyes, wrapping your arms around Al Haitham’s shoulders as he kisses down your neck, lightly nibbling and biting your neck. You shiver and dig your nails into his back as Al Haitham latches his lips into your collarbone, lightly sucking on it. 

Al Haitham murmurs against your neck, “If you want me to stop, let me know, and I’ll stop.”

You run your fingers through Al Haitham’s hair, tilting your head to the side to give him some room to suck on your neck.

You let out a shaky sigh when he sucks on your neck. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper, tugging on his hair.

Al Haitham smirks against your neck and stops sucking on your neck. Al Haitham grabs your blanket and rips it off your body, leaving you only in your oversized t-shirt. You hear a sharp intake of breath from Al Haitham when he sees that you’re not wearing anything underneath the large t-shirt.

“You naughty little thing,” Al Haitham whispers, shaking his head with a smirk.

You whine and hide your face with one hand while attempting to pull your shirt down to cover your exposed groin with the other. Al Haitham clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval. Al Haitham grabs you by your wrist and pins them over your head with one hand while lifting your shirt until your chest is exposed. 

Al Haitham spreads your legs with his knees before kneeling between your legs. Al Haitham releases your shirt and lifts your leg. Al Haitham swipes his index and middle finger up your wet entrance, making you jolt with surprise. You tremble beneath Al Haitham as he continues to coat his fingers in your slick, muttering about how wet you are for him. 

“Al Haitham, please…” You trail off, gazing at him through your lashes.

Al Haitham plunges his middle and ring finger into your entrance. You tense up and let out a choked gasp. You tried to cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but you couldn’t free yourself from Al Haitham’s iron grip. You wrap your legs around his waist as he pulls his fingers out from your entrance before slamming them back into your gummy walls, making you writhe and arch your back beneath him. 

Archons, you’re so wet that every time Al Haitham thrusts his fingers into your sopping-wet cavern, you and Al Haitham would hear squelching, and your juices would coat the inside of your thighs. Al Haitham groans, feeling how tight you are around his fingers. Your back arches every time Al Haitham’s long fingers jab a particular spot inside you, causing you to choke out a moan and clench around his fingers.

“Al Haitham…” You whimper, attempting to free yourself from his iron grip.

Al Haitham suddenly pulls his fingers out. You nearly whine at the feeling of emptiness. Al Haitham releases your wrists before grabbing your shirt collar with both hands, tearing your shirt in half. You watch Al Haitham toss your shirt to the side carelessly before taking his pajama pants, leaving him only in his black boxers. 

You can see his bulge clear as day— the tent in his boxers is bigger than it was before. Al Haitham cages you against your bed with his arms before pressing his lips against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pressing your bare entrance against Al Haitham’s pulsating cock. The only thing that is getting in the way of you feeling Al Haitham’s cock is his boxers.

Al Haitham breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against your shoulders, breathing heavily. Al Haitham begins grinding his clothed cock against your entrance. You panted, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his cock rubbed up against your swollen bundle of nerves. You clench around nothing, biting on your lips to muffle your gasps. Al Haitham blindly reaches down to his boxers and begins taking his underwear off and tossing them to the ground beside your bed. You sigh in relief when you feel his hot cock press against your entrance. You peek down to see Al Haitham’s cock— the bulbous tip is red with need, pre-cum beading at the tip. 

Al Haitham slowly ruts his cock against your entrance, coating the base of his cock in your essence. You reach down to grab his cock by the base, gently squeezing them. Al Haitham hisses and squeezes his eyes shut. You gently stroke his cock before rubbing the mushroom tip of his cock with your thumb, spreading his pre-cum around. 

“You’re incredibly sensitive, Al Haitham,” you murmur, giving his cock a light squeeze.

Al Haitham hisses again before burying his face into the crook of your neck, panting heavily against your neck as you continue to stroke his cock. You stoke his throbbing dick slowly, making sure to lightly squeeze the tip and rub the tip of your thumb over the mushroom tip. Al Haitham releases a guttural moan and bucks into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you tighten your grip around his red cock. 

You continue pumping Al Haitham’s throbbing member until Al Haitham lets out a choked moan. Al Haitham grabs your wrist and forcibly removes your hand from his dick. Al Haitham gulps, pinning your hand to your side as he tries to catch his breath. 

You press your lips into a thin line. “I almost made Al Haitham cum.” You can’t help but feel proud of yourself for being able to (almost) have Al Haitham cum with just your hands.

Al Haitham looks at you and slowly stands, brushing his messy hair from his face. Al Haitham grabs you by the waist and pulls you down. You squeal and gasp when Al Haitham slaps your already aching entrance. Al Haitham grabs your engorged bundle of nerves and pinches them hard. You grit your teeth and curl your toes, legs shaking as Al Haitham rubs the nub at a fierce pace. 

You grab Al Haitham’s wrists, attempting to get him to stop before he makes you cum. “Stop, stop, stop, stop! I’m going to cum if you don’t stop!” You whine as you flail your legs around.

The tight knot forms at the bottom of your abdomen, getting incredibly tighter while Al Haitham continues to pinch, twist, and rub your swollen, aching nub. You shudder and tense up, preparing yourself for your impending orgasm. When the tight knot in your lower abdomen is about to snap and unleash the floodgates, Al Haitham releases your throbbing nub.

You look at Al Haitham, eyes wide and chest heaving with heavy breaths. “Al Haitham! Why’d you stop!?” you whine softly, grabbing his wrist and shaking his arm.

Al Haitham spreads your legs and slaps your sopping-wet entrance, making you involuntarily clench around nothing. You rest your head on your pillow and close your eyes, trying to catch your breath while Al Haitham coats the underside of his cock with your slick. You gasp softly when you feel Al Haitham’s hot cock rubs against your puffy entrance.

You’re not sure if you’re feeling extra needy because of the aphrodisiac or if it’s because Al Haitham denied you of your orgasm. Maybe it’s both. Al Haitham lifts your legs by the thighs, having your calves rest on his shoulders as he lines the tip of his cock at your entrance. Archons, this isn’t going to be the first time getting railed by your boyfriends, but for some reason, you can’t help but feel nervous about it. Sensing your anxiousness, Al Haitham kisses the back of your calves and gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze. You smile at Al Haitham and swallow your saliva. You grip Al Haitham’s thighs, gently digging your nails into his flesh. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and brace yourself. Al Haitham rubs the bulbous tip of his dick against your fluttery entrance before slowly entering your drenched hole. Your jaws drop, letting out a string of moans when Al Haitham’s mushroom tip breaches your entrance. You unintentionally clench your thighs around his waist, tensing below Al Haitham the more he sinks his cock into your gummy walls with a semi-loud moan.

You whimper when Al Haitham’s thick cock stretches you out. You squeeze your thighs around Al Haitham’s waist, causing him to stop halfway in your hot cavern. Al Haitham pants, balling his hands into fists beside your head. Al Haitham closes his eyes, relishing the feeling of your gummy walls clamping around his throbbing dick.

Al Haitham leans over you, his chest pressing against your face while he buries his face into your pillow. “Try to relax for me, baby. Please,” Al Haitham rasps, reaching down to grab your hand.

You whimper, holding Al Haitham’s hands and interlocking your fingers with his. “I-I’m trying,” you whisper, eyebrows furrowing while trying to relax and adjust to Al Haitham’s size.

Al Haitham nudges his nose against yours, his lips ghosting over yours. Al Haitham presses his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers when he sinks further into your heat. You wrap your legs around Al Haitham’s slim waist, heels digging into his ass cheeks. Al Haitham grunts into your mouth, balls deep inside your entrance. 

Al Haitham stretching your hole is painful— you could’ve sworn that if Al Haitham was any thicker than he already is, he’d stretch you out so much that your entrance would rip to shreds. You can literally feel the skin stretch to accommodate his girth. You wrap your arm around Al Haitham’s shoulders while squeezing Al Haitham’s hand with the other. 

Al Haitham gently thrusts forward to test the waters. You clench around Al Haitham’s cock, panting into his mouth. Al Haitham pulls away from the kiss and kisses your jawline while pressing his chest against yours, refusing to release your hand. Your thighs are shaking as you try your best to relax and not tense up each time Al Haitham thrusts lightly into you.

Al Haitham can feel you tremble while peppering kisses on your jaws and neck. He gently massages your inner thighs, closing his eyes while trying to adjust to the tightness of your entrance.

You unclench your legs around Al Haitham’s waist and signal him to start. Al Haitham pushes himself off you and kneels between your legs, lifting your legs up, and begins thrusting into your drenched entrance at a steady pace. You pant, eyes rolling to the back of your head every time Al Haitham thrusts in and out of your hole. The veiny base of Al Haitham’s cock rubs against the gummy walls of your warm, tight cavern, sending you to Celestia and back. 

“Fuck, Al Haitham,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut each time Al Haitham buries his cock into you. 

Al Haitham chokes out a moan, hugging your legs to his chest while thrusting. Al Haitham lifts your legs up until your ass is hanging above the bed. Al Haitham leans forward, folding you in half until your feet are above your head. You grunt when you feel the muscles of your thighs strain under the pressure. Al Haitham kisses the back of your calves, pulling his cock out until only the tip remains.

Al Haitham plunges only the tip of his cock in and out of your entrance, making you wince and shudder at the strange feeling. If you could describe how it feels, it feels like Al Haitham is almost scooping your insides out. It’s hard for you to put your finger on it— it’s the best way you can describe it, and it feels strange. You don’t think anyone has ever fucked you with just the tip of their cock.

Al Haitham continues to plunge the tip of his dick into your entrance repeatedly. You tense up, whimper, and clamp your thighs together. Without warning, Al Haitham thrusts his cock all the way into your drooling hole. Al Haitham chokes a moan and collapses on top of you when your gummy walls clench around his member. 

Al Haitham props himself up on his forearms and begins pumping his cock in and out of your entrance. Your thigh muscles strain under Al Haitham’s weight, making you whimper and grunt at the feeling. Al Haitham hooks one leg over his shoulder while wrapping the other around his waist without stopping or slowing down. Al Haitham grabs your throat with one hand before aggressively pressing his lips against yours, quickening his pace.

You bite Al Haitham’s lips, making him growl and slam his dick into you so hard that you see stars dancing behind your vision. Al Haitham swallows your wails as you try to keep your voice down. Much to your dismay, a familiar feeling starts building up in your lower abdomen as Al Haitham continues to abuse your hole with his thick cock sooner than you thought.

You break the kiss, panting and squealing as Al Haitham drills his cock deep into you. “Al Haitham! I’m going to cum,” you whine, weakly punching his shoulders.

Al Haitham slides his hands down from your throat to your groin and slaps your puffy entrance, making sure to hit your bundle of nerves. You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut, tightening your leg around Al Haitham’s waist. Al Haitham starts rubbing your engorged nub aggressively, making sure to piston his cock into your g-spot. 

Al Haitham leans down and bites your neck hard, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when your gummy walls squeeze his cock so tightly that thick ropes of hot cum spurt into you. You whimper cum around his cock, back arching, chest pressing against Al Haitham’s heaving chest, eyes rolling to the back of your head as stars spin and dance behind your eyelids. You go limp and lay beneath Al Haitham in a daze, trying to catch your breath as your groin continues to pulse.

Al Haitham pulls his cock out from your now-sullied entrance before getting off your bed. You peek at Al Haitham to see him standing at the foot of your bed. Al Haitham slicks his hair back before grabbing your ankles and pulling you toward the edge of your bed. You’re too tired to fight back. Instead, you let Al Haitham do as he pleases. Al Haitham spreads your legs, watching his and your mixed cum spill from your pulsing hole. Al Haitham flips you over on your stomach and bends you over with your ass in the air.

“Another round?” You mumble, rubbing your eyes.

Al Haitham grunts in response before slamming his cock back inside. You squeal and grip your bedsheets hard, burying your face into your mattress as Al Haitham pistons his cock into your entrance. Al Haitham spreads your cheeks, watching his and your cum coat his dick and spill onto your bedsheets. The only thing Al Haitham hears are the sounds of your moans and whimpers. Something in the corner of Al Haitham’s eyes distracts him for a moment. Al Haitham looks up to see your bedroom door cracked open and a shadow standing at the doorway. The shadowy figure watches Al Haitham pistons his cock in and out of your sulled, pulsating entrance. Al Haitham smirks at the person, grabs a handful of your hair, and pulls you back toward his chest. You groan and close your eyes, wrapping your arm around his neck while digging your nails into your thighs. Your gummy walls pulse around Al Haitham’s cock as you whimper and writhe in Al Haitham’s grasp. Al Haitham doesn’t take his eyes off the shadowy figure, making sure to give the unknown person a show.

Al Haitham hisses when you clench around his cock, taking his attention away from the unknown person at the door and down at you. You choke out a wail, cumming around Al Haitham’s cock for the second time before going limp while Al Haitham proceeds to pump and grind his cock into your entrance. 

‘I can do this all day,’ Al Haitham pants, filling your hole with cum.

Al Haitham pulls his cock out of your battered entrance, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Al Haitham glances at the door, only to see that the door is now shut. You curl up in a ball and groan when the mixture of your and Al Haitham’s cum spills out of you. 

You rub your eyes, muttering, “Now I know how creampuffs feel.”

Al Haitham snorts and lays beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest, and pulling a blanket over your body. Al Haitham kisses the side of your head and squeezes you lightly. You moan quietly when you feel cum leaking from your hole as the burning pit in your stomach remains ravenous. 

Note: I won't be posting next week because I decided that it would be a perfect time to take a break from writing and posting for this upcoming week. Not only have I been busy, but I haven't had the motivation to write/continue fanfics because of how exhausted I have been lately. But fear not, I will post the week after my break! I'm thinking about continuing Tragic Outcomes, but we'll have to wait and see about that 🤔 Anyway! Ready to vote for the next route in Burning Desire? Remember to vote for who you want to be in the next fic and read the instructions carefully— which should be simple enough, I hope. Vote for the next route [HERE]! Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @ins4nebish, @skyyyyackerman, @w1s-t3r1a, @urlocalheizousimp, @crinklypink, @downbadforurmom, @jadedist, @kaoyamamegami, @vynniis, @4-34-am, @iamcherryblossomsbitch, @starrry-angel, @raidenshogunsboobasword, @worldhardtibbysoft, @sagekun, @imnothungry-45, @lucifarts-boxers, @ieathairs, @akemiixx01, @probablynoposts, @mortallyshamelessfella, @odevote118, @sunlightstarr, @hispasian-otaku, @toobytub, @toshikochan, @firesunflames, @nightlysunn, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @aethersclothes (Taglist for Burning Desire has been fixed and updated— sorry for the inconvenience ;v; )

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[loveslibrarywp]

The secrets we keep

Helaena Targaryen x Fem!reader

Summary: As the lady in waiting of the queen Helaena, you’d do anything to please her. Anything.

Warnings: NSFW. Cunnilingus. Vaginal fingering. Infidelity. Dom!reader. Sub!Helaena.

Author’s Note: it’s been a while since I’ve written gxg smut so bear with me. I’m thinking about writing more small stories like oneshots and short stories on tumblr and my fanfics on Wattpad so if you’re interested go check it out!! (Wp user in bio!)

“Good morning, my lady.” You walk into the queen’s room, ready to get her up for the day. You watch as she awakens from her slumber and yawns. You smile at Helaena and how pretty she looks when she has just woken up.

“Good morning, Y/n.” She smiles up at you, her eyes sparkling as the sun from the window hits them. You look back to see if the door had closed behind you when you walked in, and thanked the gods it was because you had leaned in to kiss her on her lips.

She had reciprocated your kiss and leaned into you. She yanked you into her bed while not moving from one another. Her lips on yours was the best start of the morning. “Eager, are we, my queen?” You tease with a smile on your face as you pull apart.

“I had a dream last night..” she mumbled, her hand taking yours as you both sit up on the bed. “What was it about, my love?” You asked, feeling a bit more confident in your speech now that the door was closed and no one could hear the two of you.

“You were…licking me…” she said nervously as she fumbled with your fingers. A smirk played on your face as you realized she had a sex dream about you. Her secret lover.

“Oh, my sweet..” you cooed. You dropped her hands and placed them up her nightdress, on her pale thigh. You softly rubbed the supple skin, moving ever so closely to her pussy. Her breath quickened at your actions as she looked at you with pleading eyes.

You moved the sheets off of her legs and hiked up her dress to reveal her dripping cunt. A beautiful sight to see. “Look at this beautiful little cunny..” you dip your fingers into her wetness, playing with her pussy gently. “It’s all wet for me, isn’t it?”

“Yes..” she breathed out as she shut her eyes tight as her cunt throbbed with anticipation. “Guess I’ll have to fix it, huh baby?” You asked as you moved to be in between the girls legs. You bent down to be face to face with her wet pussy, and you stuck your ass up into the air to give her a bit of a view.

“Please..” she cried and softly grasped the roots of your hair. You slowly licked a strip up her cunt, savoring the taste of her juices. A groan falling from your lips and into her pussy, which earned a loud moan from Helaena.

“Such a good girl.” You spoke, your tongue licking up into her cunt and circling around her clit. Her soft moans filled the room, the most beautiful symphony you’ve ever heard. You cursed the king for ignoring such a perfect thing, yet you thanked him because you had her all to yourself.

You sucked on her clit, grazing it with your teeth ever so slightly to not hurt your lover. “Oh gods!” She gasped and her hands gripped your hair roughly, making a groan erupt from your mouth.

Your hands grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer to your mouth. One of your hands moving to her cunt and circling her hole. Your middle finger pushed into her, making her back arch off the bed. You thrusted your fingers at a slow and agonizing pace.

“Harder, faster, please..” she cried and she humped your hand and face. You licked and sucked her clit and added another finger to her cunt. Your fingers moved at a faster speed and hit the spot inside of her only you knew how to hit. She cried out, she shoved her head into the pillow beside her to drown out some of her noise.

She clenched around your fingers, you knew she was close. You sped up and curled your fingers at her spot, making her tip over the edge. She came hard. Her moans were loud, even with the pillow to silence her. You licked up her arousal and cum from her pussy and your fingers. She watched in admiration and desire.

“What a delightful way to start the day.” You said with a smile as you pant and sit up. She smiled back at you and grabs you by the neck and forced you into a kiss. You smiled into the kiss and held your lover in your arms. Nothing is better than this.

[iron-strangers]

of breakfast and sweet lullabies

Summary: Din Djarin is not an early bird. But there's one way to convince him to be one.

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Female Jedi!Reader

Tags: Established Relationship, Mand’alor Din Djarin, Morning Sex, Kitchen Sex, Unprotected p-in-v, Creampie. I mean they are married and she's pregnant already

CW: Pregnancy, No use of Y/N, NSFW MINORS DNI

Length: 1.5k

A/N: This fic is a part of an ongoing series, posted on AO3.

Read this on AO3 : of breakfast and sweet lullabies

Prequel to Aliit

Link to the series on ao3, tumblr

-

As the soft light of dawn filters through the curtains, Din stirs awake from his slumber, the warmth of his bed reluctant to release him. Stretching languidly, he blinks away the remnants of sleep with dismay, frowning when his stretched arm doesn't find the warm body of his riduur. His senses gradually awakened to the familiar sounds of home. A gentle melody wafts through the air, drawing Din from the comfort of his bed. Curiosity wins, he rises from the bed and follows the melodic trail, where his feet lead him toward the heart of his home.

There, standing by the stove, is his beloved riduur.

Your silhouette is illuminated by the soft glow of the morning light. With a gentle sway, you hum a lullaby, your voice a soothing serenade that wraps around Din like an embrace. One hand effortlessly flips eggs with practiced ease while your left hand is raised, manipulating the force, levitating plates and glasses from the cabinets. The tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed caf and breakfast fills the air, mingling with the sweet notes of your song, Din is still watching in awe as you move with grace and tenderness around the kitchen.

“Kandosii sa kyr'am ast, troan teroch jetiise a'den,” you sing softly, caressing your growing bump, singing an old Mandalorian war chant to your baby instead of core-world lullabies. Unable to resist, Din quietly approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting hiazs chin on your shoulder. You lean back to his bare chest, clearly expecting the embrace, soaking in his warmth. Can't sneak up on a jetii , Din thinks, scratching your shoulder with his stubbles.

“Duraan vi at ara'nov, vode an, kar’ta tor,” Din joins in, both of you singing the last two lines of the chant. You look back at him, your face breaking into a radiant smile before burying your nose into his curls, pressing a sweet kiss to his temple. 

“Morning, mesh’la,” Din smiles, kissing your shoulder, tightening his hug and pulling your body closer to his. “Hey there, ad’ika," Din coos, his voice filled with adoration as he greets his baby. "Are you having a dance party in there? Keeping your momma awake, huh?"

You chuckle, absently tracing circles on Din’s hand. "You know," you tease, "every time you talk to the baby, they kick like crazy. I swear, it's like they’re trying to tell you to pipe down."

Din grins, his gaze softening as he looks at his wife. "But how can I resist talking to our ad'ika?" he replies, his voice laced with affection. 

You roll your eyes playfully, but your heart swells with love at Din’s words. "I know, I know," you huff, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Din can’t resist the urge to put his hands over your belly once more, whispering sweet nothings to his verd’ika. And true to form, the baby responds with a flurry of kicks and movements, eliciting a groan of mock annoyance from you.

"Oh, see what you have done?" you complain but your tone is teasing as you nudge Din with your elbow. "Now they're all riled up."

Din grins unabashedly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can't help it," he laughs, "I just love them so much already."

Grinning, you lean your head on his shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Din's jaws. Your bodies sway together from side to side as you finish up making breakfast, setting everything on the dining table with the force. Din smiles against your temple when he feels another kick on his hand. His hands sneak underneath your robes, smirking against your neck when he feels skin and nothing else underneath. He roams your body, massaging your aching breast and trailing his hand down, stopping on your belly, caressing the stretched skin as he nips his marks on your neck. 

You feel him grinding against your thighs and you gasp, feeling the heat of arousal pooling in your center. Whimpering, you grind against his thickening length. You reach back, running your hand over the outline of his cock through the fabric, slipping your hand down the waistband of his pants, teasing and squeezing him with your fingers, smearing his precum all over the tip. Din groans, catching your hand and slips it out, ignoring your disappointed whine to pull his pants down. His cock slaps against his belly, hard and already wet from his precum. He takes your robes off your back, throwing the thin silk down the floor and he bends you towards the counter, still ever so careful with your growing bump.

“Mesh’la,” Din praises, parting your folds with two big fingers. He scoops some of your slick around and spreads his fingers all over your clit. You let out a low protest as his fingers leave you, stroking himself slowly with your arousal before nestling the red, flared tip of his cock between your folds, gathering up the creamy mess.

“Gonna let me fuck you like this, sweet girl?” He grunts low in your ear, giving your clit a well-deserved attention with his swollen, leaking head gliding through you.

“Yes, please- Oh, Din!”

He watches you desperately moan for him, whining needily as he buries all of himself into you in one deep thrust, pushing himself in easily with the slick that’s been pooling from all his teasing. Your cheek squished against the cold tile of your kitchen counter, looking back to meet Din’s eyes as he holds your hips in place and fucks into you. 

“You do, yeah, mesh’la? Always so desperate to take my dick." Din murmurs his praises, hissing when he feels your pussy fluttering around him, struggling to take his girth. He swears when he hears the sloppy squelching sounds of him pounding into your tight heat. He keeps on hitting the spot inside of you that makes you see stars, over and over again. “That’s a good girl, my perfect little riduur. Let me hear you, cyar’ika.”

“Fuck- Din, fuck my pussy so good, daddy-”

Manda. Din knows you know what that word did to him-

Din drapes himself across your back, pressing you down to the counter. He sneaks one hand down, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit, completely fucking the ability to form any thoughts out from your brain. He’s basking himself with your filthy moans and screams that come from the sharp, long snap of his hips, going as deep as your pussy will allow him. Din feels the sweet clench of your pussy around the base of his cock, familiar with all the signs that his riduur is going to cum hard.

“Want me to fill you up, rid'ika? Want to feel it dripping out of you?” Din asks in a low, rough grunt and you respond with a flurry of desperate nods.

“Yes, fill me up, please, cyare, want your cum inside me!”

“I know, momma, just let it all out. Take what you need, sweet girl. I’ve got you, cum on my cock.”

You seize in his hold as he continues to roll his hips against yours, feeling boneless from the pleasure that hums through every nerve. You cum with an arch of your back followed by a cry of Din’s name and he groans at the flutter of your walls around him, gripping him so tight in your warmth. He can barely get out a handful of thrusts before he's spilling deep inside of you.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” Din groans in your ear, murmuring sweet praises and sucking his bite marks all over your neck and your shoulder, holding your shivering body up by your hips. “Too rough?”

You shake your head from the counter, too comfortable to even lift it from the cool tile. “So fucking good,” you hum pleasantly, holding your hand up and a towel flies across the room to your waiting palm. Din slowly eases himself out of you and you moan, feeling his load drip out of you. Din groans, scooping his leaking spend from your thighs with his finger and plugging it all back into your fucked out cunt. He plants a deep lingering kiss on your lips and he takes the towel from your hand, wetting it and wiping the shared mess between you two, careful when you start to hiss from over-stimulation.

“Hey, love? Can you help your gooey puddle of a wife up to the chair?” You ask, flashing him your best attempt at puppy eyes. Din smirks, pulling his pants back up before helping you back into your discarded robe, lifting you to the breakfast stool.

“Take a breather, cyar’ika, I’ll go get Grogu,” Din kisses the top of your head and flicks your nose before he goes to wake the child up, smiling to himself when he watches your nose wrinkle. You playfully shoo him as you tie your robes up, huffing about having to disinfect the kitchen after breakfast. 

If every morning started out like this, Din will never complains again for the rest of his life.

-

Song used in this fic: Ka’rta tor by Jesse Harlin

Ka'rta Tor (Heart of Justice)

Mando'a

Kandosii sa kyr'am ast,

Troan teroch jetiise a'den,

Duraan vi at ara'nov.

Vode an, ka'rta tor.

Translation

As ruthless as Death itself,

The pitiless face of The Jedi's wrath,

Let us look down on all who are before us.

Brothers all, one heart of justice.

[stringchheez]

the 'clone accent'

So, if you've watched the Clone Wars series, you've definitely heard the way that the clones talk. It's a strange accent- as an Australian myself, I kind of hear it as a mix of Aussie, Kiwi, and American- which is of course odd, because Temura Morrison (who plays the clones in live action) has a Kiwi accent as a Mauri man himself. Now, obviously this could just be put down to Dee Bradley Baker being an American, who are notoriously bad at doing Kiwi and Aussie accents, but I like to make things complicated, so I've brewed up a little theory/headcannon surrounding the clones' accents.

It's pretty commonly known that accents arise when a group are isolated from outside influences on their way of speaking- the same can be said for dialects. This phenomenon doesn't just apply to states or countries though. Through the pandemic, there were a few studies that found that accents could also develop within even smaller circles; in the pandemic, this happened with families or groups that lived together. It doesn't just happen in focus groups though- you are highly susceptible to picking up the speech patterns of your close friends and family, but it can also just happen with people who you happen to be around in excess.

I figured that this same logic could be applied to the clones. The earlier batches would have picked up Jango Fett's accent after being around him for extended periods of time, and that would have transferred to the other generations of course. The only other people that the clones come into contact with while growing up (and therefore intaking information like speech patterns as brains are more malleable when younger) are the Kaminoan personnel, the bounty hunters who train them, and later on Shaak Ti as their Jedi guardian. The Kaminoans have what I would place as either a British, or a particularly posh Aussie accent- think like politician or news reader. The bounty hunters mostly have an American accent due to predominantly being from outer rim worlds. Shaak Ti has a fairly ambiguous "foreign" sounding accent, and probably has less of an influence over the clones' accents.

Given the isolation of the Clones it makes sense that after a while they would develop an accent of their own, which I think is a fairly solid lore-supported reason for the strange conglomeration that is their speech in the Clone Wars and Bad Batch series. I would also love to explore the idea of them coming up with a stylized dialect of basic, which would also be awesome.

Anyway that's it I'm going back into my deep slumber and awakening the next time I remember I have Tumblr goodbye...........

[onyxrosess]

You Have a Way With Words

vergil x reader

Hello! First time posting on tumblr, it’s definitely testing my patience- but here I am.

・warnings: n/a

( + cross posted on ao3)

The evening had dragged on, ever so slowly. It was to be expected when waiting for something— someone— time did move so terribly slow. Vergil had been gone most of the day, usually, jobs went fairly quick for him, as he is the strongest half-devil you know, and probably is the strongest half-devil. That being, he’s now been gone since 11:00 am, it’s now, you glanced over at the clock on the wall, 9:48 pm. And you are exhausted. Finding anything to do at the shop was a challenging task, there weren’t any books. Vergil didn’t even keep books, or well very many. You didn’t feel it would be appropriate to read his chosen literature, as it seemed quite personal to him. 

You’ve now retreated to your bed—Vergil’s bed. The neatness of the room was still a little alien to you. Not that it was just clean, there was practically nothing in his room. A dresser, two nightstands, a hook to hang his coat, and his large bed. That was it. Maybe it was instinct, a decorated room was a human trait. Though Vergil’s gotten better about his humanity, it is nowhere near perfect and never will be. You slithered under the comforter, laying on your side. Half of you wanted to tape your eyes open just in case Vergil got home so that you could greet him. The other half wanted nothing more than sleep. And one ended victorious, sleep.

It had only been an hour since you had fallen asleep, the silence of the building was not to be disrupted, especially by Vergil’s light steps. A habit he gained from the hells. However, the bedroom door opened with a prolonged squeak. Vergil’s eyes fell on your sleeping form, though he was not surprised. He had already been listening to your heartbeat from the other side of the door before making his entrance. Vergil momentarily propped up the Yamato against the wall as he methodically hung his coat on the hook attached to the drywall. Now walking over to his bed, which you are claiming one side of. Resting the sword against the nightstand, he sat down on the mattress. His weight made the mattress dip, and you remained unaware of his presence. Vergil’s first thought was how weak , but he was quickly overridden by human reason, reasoning he had been taught, especially by you and Dante. Vergil’s gaze settled on your features, ones he could barely see due to your position facing away from him. His hand, which still had his weathered gloves on, moved to grab a section of your hair, feeling it between his fingertips.

Maybe it was to check if you were real. Not many lowered their guard around him, well, those who knew of his strength. Regular civilians would always have their guard down, they were oblivious. But you who showed him patience granted it didn’t come without its respective frustration, but you still did it. You still trusted him, as stupid of a decision he thought it was at first: to trust blindly. Over time he realized it wasn’t blind, you saw something in Vergil he couldn’t see himself. His ability to be a man, and maybe you two had a different definition of a ‘man’, didn’t stop you from trying. Even when he would be covered in gore and carnage, and no regard for human life, you still saw him . It was buried down so deep there was only a sliver showing. But you knew it was there.

Your body shifted in your slumber, switching to the other side. The hand previously tangled in your hair quickly retreated, he observed your micro-movements. How your chest rose and fell slightly, your lips slightly parted. The dim lighting didn’t allow for many details of your face to show, but Vergil’s eyes saw you perfectly clear, thank you demon genetics. Vergil slipped his boots off before sitting up against a pillow on his bed, though you did slowly awaken. You didn’t see him at first, but you smelt him, it was nothing bad, it was just him. Something you had grown very accustomed to. His once cold blue eyes turned warm, at least that's what his gaze felt like on your skin. Vergil’s hands sat idly in his lap, “I apologize if I woke you.” You shook your head and pulled your body closer to him, “I don’t mind, I wanted to see you anyway.” Vergil didn’t respond, your head laid on the pillow next to where he sat. His eyes trained on your face and you couldn’t help but do the same. Admiring his sharp features, his eyebrows were more relaxed, and the shadow that they usually cast over his eyes was lightened. 

Vergil wasn’t extremely well versed in affection, barely versed at all. You settled for the small touches he gave you in private, it never extended beyond. You would usually wake up alone or Vergil faced away from you on the other side of the mattress. Though the man was very possessive, he rarely touched you. As if you were made of glass and the smallest thing could send you shattering. Regardless if you fought alongside him or he simply observed you, he would still treat you so carefully. Fighting your inner turmoil, you shifted your weight closer to him. Moving ever so carefully, lifting your head to lay on his thigh. Your actions were immediately met with his muscles tensing, yet again, he remained silent.

You didn’t dare move to look at his expression, admittedly feeling nervous, though if Vergil was not comfortable, he would have no problem voicing that. A few long seconds later, the muscles of his thigh slowly relaxed under your head, and you released a small breath that had been held captive in your lungs. Then minutes passed, and Vergil remained still, but calm, or so you hoped from the few clues you could gather together from your current position. Your eyes began to close shut once again, without your permission of course. 

A slow hand came to your hair, pushing the pieces back behind your ear. You couldn’t help but crane your neck up a little to maybe get a glimpse of Vergil’s face. His expression was blank as ever, till he caught your eyes. His lips twitched into a tiny smile, that was reward enough.  “What took you so long to get home?” You questioned, your neck still in an awkward position to see him. “I had an errand to run before returning home.” You hummed, he was being vague. Your heart told you he was being truthful, but your head said there was something else- no matter. He would tell you, or at least that's what you told yourself.

Resting your head back down comfortably on his lap, you pondered what his ‘errand’ was. He didn’t need to buy anything, he had food here and he wasn’t very materialistic. Maybe he was seeing someone . The thought made your chest burn, trying to put out the flames you tried to think rationally. Vergil and yourself were not officially dating, you know he cares about you. But the situation is so unique you don’t know if proper dating applies to him. But then again maybe he just needed to get off, he was human after all..well part human. The water you tried to pour on your fiery thoughts was not enough, and the heat from the raging flames morphed into jealousy. Was he with someone else? The thought of Vergil sharing the tender moments you have with him made you boil. 

Maybe Vergil heard your heart begin to beat faster, or maybe it's a demon’s 6th sense. One of his hands laid idly on your back, and you were quickly pulled out of the burning house that was your mind. “What's on your mind?” Vergil broke the silence of the room, you bit your tongue. You could not bear to admit jealousy over an imaginary woman you created in your head, it was ridiculous.  “Nothing, it’s stupid.” You turned your head farther away from his gaze,  “If it was nothing, you would not call it ‘stupid’” Vergil tested you, why must he be so nosey ?  You groaned, lifting a hand to cover your face.  “I’m…I’m just thinking too much, it’s fine.”

That answer was not sufficient enough for Vergil. His hand pried yours away from your face, though it wasn’t much of a struggle for him. He tilted your head with his hand towards his face, he was staring at you, and a couple of his white strands of hair fell out of their place.

“Tell me.” Vergil demanded, he wouldn’t just let it go. “I… I just was…” Jealous wasn’t the right word, what were you jealous of? Vergil was not exclusive to you.  “wondering what your ‘errand’ was, and… I thought you might’ve been with someone else.” Vergil’s expression was back to normal, a deep shadow cast over his eyes, his brows knitted together.  “I could tell you, but I’d prefer not to.”  Now you were fucking confused, what does that mean?  “If it would put your mind at ease, I would.” Vergil’s expression softened slightly. If he was so willing to tell you, maybe it wasn’t anything bad.  “No, it’s okay, I trust you.”  Your own words were not a lie, you did trust Vergil, with your life and your secrets. Vergil nodded, as his body relaxed against a pillow. Now you were curious, not as jealous anymore, maybe a little still. 

Vergil shifted now to laying down, so rudely making you move. He laid on his back as he stared at the ceiling, the air was beginning to feel thick with tension. You managed to scoot your body closer to him, your eyes following a muscle in his neck that twitched as he clenched his jaw. He moved his arm, making way for you to cling next to him. It wasn’t often he felt comfortable with contact like this, it was usually directed by you. Your head now rested on his chest, as it calmly rose and fell. 

Just like that, your worries slowly seeped out of your mind, discarding themselves. Everything felt like it was going to be okay. Even just for a moment, maybe just for tonight, but it was enough to make you smile. The comfortable warmth that radiated off of Vergil made your body lax, while his hand played with a strand of your hair gently.  “What are you smiling for?” Vergil asked, his fingers lacing through your hair, and before your brain could filter the words that slipped out your mouth, they went rouge;

“I love you, Vergil.”

“Foolish girl.”

Thank you for reading! - onyxroses

[luvlyyuii]

freeze moment . . . jungwon

notes: my first writing in tumblr!

AS YOU SLOWLY AWAKEN from your peaceful slumber, the gentle morning light filtering through the curtains. You turn over, greeted by the sight of Jungwon, already awake and watching you with a soft smile that could rival the sunrise itself.

"Good morning, lovely," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody.

A smile graces your lips in response to his gentle tone. "Good morning, handsome," you murmur back.

Jungwon reaches out, his thumb brushing delicately over your cheek in a gesture of tenderness. "You're breathtaking," he whispers softly, his eyes filled with affection as he gazes at you.

Your heart flutters at his words, warmth spreading within you like the blossoming of spring flowers. "And you're absolutely flawless," you reply, your voice filled with sweetness.

Drawing closer, Jungwon presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips gentle against your skin. "I could relive this moment a hundred times and never tire of it," he whispers, his warm breath caressing your ear.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close until you're enveloped in each other's embrace. "Me too," you nodded.

In that moment, amidst Jungwon's tender kisses and the gentle caress of his thumb against your cheek, you realize just how fortunate you are to have him by your side.

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ S-RANKS AND THEIR INHUMAN TRAITS.

fandom. solo leveling

pairings. beak yoonho, choi jong-in, liu zhigang, sung jin-woo x gn!reader

content warnings. s-ranks are not quite human, written in lower caps, not edited/proofread

word count. 1.1k

notes. first solo leveling fic here on tumblr!! i hope you all like it, some food before i focus on the event fics :)

S-Ranks are not only distinguished by the fact that their mana levels are so high that they can't be measured by any means, but also by taking almost animalistic traits. Those are a result of their own high mana reserves and in which way the mana has manifested in them. Each S-Rank is individual and shows different inhuman traits. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ baek yoonho. 

beak yoonho is an s-rank, who focuses on transformation magic. while he clearly has the power of a tank, his mana manifests in a weird mix of tiger and wolf

having practiced rigorous control of his mana and with that his animalistic instincts, he’s one of the few s-ranks who rarely shows his inhuman traits

and still, his appearance changed the moment he awakened to a s-rank. canine teeth, his pupils turning to slits when his control slips— those small things bleed through his ‘normal’ appearance 

these traits are the most obvious after baek cancels his transformation, mana still pulsing strongly through his body and only slowly turning him back fully human. the tips of his hair stay white, streaked with black, while his eyes continue to glow and usually round pupils remain as thin slits

when he’s like this, mind still hazy and led by instincts, his words are more like growls, deep and snarling, showing his teeth to anyone who dares to touch what’s his

that’s what happens as well. baek normally hides it well, but post-transformation leaves doesn’t exactly clear his mind, instincts influencing his acts and decisions

you know all of this well, after being baek’s partner for years, you got to know all his traits, those he hides so well. sometimes you wish he wouldn’t, you don’t mind seeing him like this, but baek is careful. he would never dare to hurt you, he fears it, fully knowing his claws could easily sink into your delicate flesh, ripping you apart while his mana lusts for blood. 

baek doesn’t show his inhuman traits often, he doesn’t like showing them, because showing them means exposing them to you, someone who could never survive an s-rank.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ choi jong-in.

compared to baek, his long time rival, choi jong-in isn’t the one for hiding his less humane traits, but he doesn’t parade them around either. choi is a dragon through and through, sly and with a knowing glint in his eyes

he loves to hoard things, his apartment filled with trinkets, weapons he collected from all around the world, armor, artifacts— everything and anything, if something interesting catches his eyes, he will drag it to his hoard and no one will stop him

choi is a being of fire. the slumbering embers and roaring fires, calm and passionate, he embodies it and it often shows. running hotter than most s-ranks, choi is a walking heater. he himself isn’t bothered by it, but others can get uncomfortable 

and like any other beast, he has fangs and is proud of them. showing off his impressive teeth isn’t something he doesn’t do often, and yet, when the smoke of his cigarettes curls around him, sometimes you can glimpse a flash of them

despite choi being a professional and known for being one of the ‘nicer’ s-ranks, he can have a nasty temper as well. several times you’ve heard him snarl, teeth gleaming, a low rumble in his throat and the heat in the room steadily rising. he has a good control of himself and knows when it’s getting dangerous, choking his own mana and becoming seemingly completely human again. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ liu zhigang. 

liu zhigang could be compared to a berserker. he is a mighty warrior, one of the strongest s-ranks known and his blood runs hot, his hunger for blood and battle never satisfied

liu is a berserker, always ready for battle, lusting after it, no matter how strong the enemies are

and like any other proper berserker, he loves weapons. be it any blade, swords and spears, he wants them in his possession, even if he will never use them twice. sometimes his interest in a weapon is just enough to properly ‘bloody’ it, mesmerized by the view of splattered guts and flesh of monsters

war is his calling and it shows. his instincts are wired and completely focused on battles, it’s hard for him to just turn those off. he can mute them, and still he often scares other hunters and ordinary humans with his laser focus

he’s a predator and everyone is his victim, no one is safe. this is what most feel, no matter what liu does. when he was still young, inexperienced, nothing more than a small boy in this large world, he was scared. scared to hurt others, if he could never control this bloodlust

but nowadays, this fear is nowhere to be seen. liu is confident in his skin and he fully embraces his whole being, the fierce mana that has changed him forever. when he grins with a fierce glint in his eyes, own blood already boiling, his whole body ready to jump and tear through flesh… it’s then when he truly shows his animalistic, inhuman traits. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ sung jin-woo. 

sung jin-woo has probably the most control of his inhuman traits out of all s-ranks known to earth. and still, he can’t hide them completely, just as he can’t hide his power

there are his fangs, just a bit longer, a bit sharper than normal human teeth. there are his eyes, dark and glowing, his whole body shrouded in shadows— sometimes they cling onto him, sometimes jin-woo becomes a shadow

he’s not feral, bloodthirsty or a slave to his inhuman instincts. he just is someone, something powerful in a human body

a reason why other s-ranks are so careful around him. what kind of power does he have, to completely control his urges, those inhuman traits, while walking among them as if he’s a normal human being. yet he can’t be, not with the mana tightly around him— no matter what rank you are, sung jin-woo is one of the most powerful s-ranks known and everyone can feel that

as can you, not even a hunter, your body devoid of any mana but you can feel it. feel jin-woo’s power, how the shadows cling onto him, how his eyes glint, the mana wisps around him. you can feel it, sometimes see it but rarely, rarely jin-woo shows it. hidden away, in his arms, where darkness takes over him, but you’re not afraid. he keeps you safe, clothed in shadows and mana, while his rumbling chest fills the peaceful silence around you. 

taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @keqism , @aimixx , @venexus , @themercyverse

if you want to join the taglist, please read this post!

ARKHAM MAID 2023

[rosesloveletters]

teddy bear hugs.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Reader

Word Count: 1,497

Warnings: No major content warnings apply.

Summary: A part two of my Wonka Valentine's Day fic.

Author's Note: Sorry it's been such a long time since I wrote! I've been very busy since I'm currently working two jobs, but I've been writing a lot more recently, so I have some new fics to post. This was obviously supposed to have been posted a long time ago, but I hope you enjoy regardless. Also, the photo of the bear is mine.

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

A gentle breeze stirred the curtains and the soft light shining in through the open window fell upon your body; you were lost in a sweet, peaceful slumber, your eyelids fluttering like butterfly wings as you dreamt. 

Your gentle snores were interrupted by the bedroom door creaking open as Wonka stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind himself.

You were still lying in the same position you had been when he left to get dressed and as he crossed the room to your side of the bed, he fondly noticed you were still unaware of the teddy bear he had placed in your arms the night before. 

A smile appeared on his face as he sat on the edge of the mattress and placed a hand on your knee, above the duvet. 

You cooed and mumbled, nuzzling into your teddy bear’s fur the same way, Wonka noted, you so often did with his hair. 

He could not take his eyes off you as you slept, knowing that any moment you would wake up and be delighted to find the little bear he had given you to snuggle with when he was busy and could not give himself to that same physical affection you both craved so much. It bothered him that he could not stop to hold you as often as he would have liked. His success could not hold a candle to your importance in his life, yet he knew that neither you nor he were ready to settle down in a way that erased who he was. His factory was as much of a blessing as it was a curse, though now was he beginning to view the downfalls a bit more prominently than he did in the past when he was the sole owner and caretaker of the facility. 

Wonka had never truly been free.

It was somewhat ironic that his own imagination was what kept him imprisoned, a complex that felt more like a Shakespearian tragedy than one he had chosen for himself. 

He kept himself as closed off as his factory gates and very few people had a key. 

At first it was to protect his life’s work, but it had slowly become much more than that. 

Trust never came that easily to him; most of his eccentricity was a mere guise to keep his much truer self detached from the world. 

No one ever knew what he was thinking and he liked it that way. 

He felt comfortable playing the role of the reclusive and whimsical chocolatier. It was fun to spread joy and create wonder; he had always enjoyed that aspect of his career. 

There was only one person he trusted with his entire self and he wondered if you knew how great of an honor he had bestowed upon you. 

Wonka had the feeling that you did, considering how similar you both were in this regard. 

Two closed off individuals who had found solace and connection, learning to trust and find comfort in one another; it almost sounded too good to be true, but in a place that seemed to defy any kind of logic, fairytales were the least surprising thing one might find here. 

Wonka was lost in his thoughts when you finally began to stir, emitting a high-pitched moan as you gave a full-bodied stretch and opened your eyes, blinking dazedly in the early morning light. 

“Good morning, my dear,” Wonka’s smile, even brighter than the sun, greeted your open eyes, “sleep well?”

You nodded, your acknowledgement followed by a yawn. 

He knew the moment you became aware of the plush bear in your arms. 

Your tired eyes took on an alertness he only saw after you had had a chance to let your body naturally awaken and your arms seized the bear, yanking it to your chest for a tight hug. When you finally relaxed, you held it up so that you could admire it, taking in the little details which made it such a unique and special gift—the best gift he could have given you, aside from all his love. 

“Willy, what is this?” you gasped in surprise as you turned the bear around, taking in its appearance from all angles, “how did you…?”

“You like it?” he asked, though he did not need to; the answer was clear in the way you were grinning like a small child opening their presents on Christmas morning. 

“Of course!” you exclaimed, “I love it!”

You were still admiring your present, your fingers delicately smoothing out the little outfit it was wearing: a perfect replica of the one your beloved proudly wore. 

“He even has a little bowtie like yours! And look, his own golden ticket! Oh, my goodness, how on earth were you able to get this for me?!”

Willy tilted his head, a smug grin tugged his lips into a crescent smile as he took on an air of mystery, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” his cryptic reply made you giggle, “but, trust me, it was money well spent.”

“I love it so much my oh my gosh it’s the most perfect gift ever thank you, Willy!” 

He chuckled as he listened to you babbling in appreciation, a fond smile on his face as you clung to your teddy bear, hugging and cuddling it as he had intended, “you are very welcome, my dear. Now, you shall have someone to hold when I am away.”

You kissed your bear’s fuzzy little head, “thank you, Willy. I truly appreciate this much more than I could ever put into words.”

You wanted him to know how grateful you were, to not make him question whether he was taken for granted, but Wonka never had those concerns with you. 

Your gracious nature was never lost on him and you did your best to reciprocate as often as you could, yet Wonka did not want anything in return; the only thing he wanted, exceedingly more than any material gift, was you.

“I can tell,” he laughed lightheartedly, “you’re squeezing him tight enough that I can feel it.”

His little joke made you laugh in response. 

You set the bear aside and sat up, putting your arms around him. 

He accepted your embrace with his own, gently scooping you into his arms like you were precious glass and would shatter if he wasn’t careful, which had proven could be true if he was not even gentler with you than he was with himself. 

 To him, even if you could hold your own in this world, you were delicate and he at least hoped to make you feel that way while you were with him. 

He desired that you felt your emotions in his company and not bottle them up like his fizzy lifting drinks because a person could often forget the tremendous power behind restrained emotion until being shaken up and then it all would burst forth in a frenzied, bubbling mess... 

Wonka wanted you to be free in ways he never had been.

You were unabashedly yourself in front of him now and though it may have taken some time for you to feel comfortable being so vulnerable and exposed, you were eternally grateful to be loved by someone so determined to show you that you were safe with him and would never be judged, ridiculed, harmed or mocked for being nothing but your beautiful, loving self. 

You deserved the same kindness that you put into the world and Wonka would give it to you tenfold. 

“Thank you for my teddy,” you whispered into his ear and Wonka had to suppress the pleasant shudder that went down his spine at the sound of your voice, “but nothing could ever compare to the gift of being able to hug and to hold you.”

Wonka was so overcome by emotion that all he could do in response was hold you a little closer, his arms tightening just enough to convey all he longed for you to know. 

He had given you a safe space; he was someone you could rely on no matter what, even when he wasn’t physically around, because you could feel his love like it was a part of you and carried it everywhere you went. 

The teddy bear was not a replacement—nothing could ever take his place in your heart, but he was about to learn that you had every intention of cuddling that bear as often as time would allow. 

It would see many tears, of sadness and of joy, as you and Wonka embarked on many new adventures and chapters of your shared lives. 

It would carry the weight of every memory attached to it and of all the love built up from every hug you gave it and if it was to set any example for Wonka, it was to show him, through an outside perspective, how much you truly loved and cared for him. 

Willy Wonka had never been more honored. 

[torterrachampion]

Because I haven't said anything insane in a while I'm sharing one of my most absurd theories. I've shared it before (just never on tumblr) and I'm not even sure I believe it. Nonetheless we proceed.

The basic gist is this is not Faustina in the tank but Jeanne.

We know that after the original Gévaudan incident Jeanne was placed into an induced slumber by Ruthven and now ~100 years later she's allegedly been reawakened.

When Ruthven put Jeanne into slumber he said he would wake her after the war was over. And the funny thing about that is... the war was already over when he put her to sleep. The war ended in 1702 by Chloé's recount, long before the original Beast incident. Meanwhile Jeanne's slumber started sometime around 1767 if we use the actual historical Beast of Gévaudan incident as a landmark.

By this we can assume when Ruthven mentions war he doesn't mean the one between humans and vampires that he helped end. So either the "war" he's referring to only ended recently or, potentially, it's still being fought. Within the past few years the only major events that I can think of that could have signalled an end to Ruthven's war would be Luna or Faustina's deaths (if what happened to Faustina even counts as a death or was recent to begin with). But for my purposes continuing this post I'm working under the assumption his war isn't over.

At the very least Ruthven isn't acting as though he's content and they're living in peacetimes with all the scheming he's doing behind the scenes. My main point is we have reason to doubt Ruthven's criteria for awakening Jeanne have been met, and because speculating about his motivations is too difficult I will say no more about him.

Moving on, if I may invoke Occam's razor the simplest explanation for who is in the tank would be that it's the only character we know has been tanked. Assuming it's Faustina makes things more confusing not less. We already have two competing explanations of what happened to her body with Loki saying it was smashed contradicting the apparently intact body in the bed.

As for physical evidence of my claims my kind of silly argument is the hair. It looks more similar in texture to Jeanne's than Faustina's in my opinion, and almost identical to how baby Jeanne's was drawn when she started out in her tank. Tank girl's hair just doesn't look as wavy as Faustina's. While it does look longer than Jeanne's I'm willing to argue it could've grown during her sleep. It's certainly not the most insane thing I'm arguing here today.

In the below images I've marked pictures of Jeanne with pink dots, Faustina with red dots and mysterious tank girl with blue dots for ease of comparison.

Additionally, the depiction of Jeanne from memoire 4 when Vanitas talks about her induced slumber shows her hair as incredibly long. Longer than we've ever seen it. During her Hellfire Witch days it came down the length of her back but this single panel shows it reaching down past her knees. Perhaps the inconsistency is because Mochijun had not yet fully settled her character design for that time period but what if we entertain the idea that it's intentional? It looks about the right length to match the girl in the tank.

Looking at hand sizes it's hard to say but I'm willing to concede that tank girl's hands look a little smaller than Jeanne's. It's not so different that I can claim they're 100% not Jeanne's but it's worth pointing out. Ruthven's hand can kind of help scale but it's not super clear how big his hand is compared to Jeanne's in any panels I can find so it's hard to make an accurate comparison.

And I'll admit there is good evidence that tank girl is indeed Faustina. Most notably she reacts when Noé yells at Naenia in Gévaudan. Indeed my own arguments against this are at best wild speculation and grasping at straws. But grasp I will.

We know there is some relationship between Jeanne and Naenia so perhaps it isn't so unusual. Naenia was with Jeanne in Gévaudan just before Ruthven came and subsequently put her to sleep. It's possible she did something to Jeanne/her body in that time and that some connection between them now exists.

It is mentioned that Jeanne is a 'vessel' and one would assume her body has the potential to be both filled and emptied of consciousness if we take it literally.

Although, whatever else I may say, our current Jeanne definitely doesn't have any mental differences from pre-sleep Jeanne. She has all of her memories as far as I can tell, besides a few that have been tampered with. So even if I claim Jeanne's body is in that tank I'm not sure I can say the same of her consciousness. And I don't exactly have an explanation for who/what our Jeanne is if I'm working under the assumption any of my claims are true. Really any belief in this nonsense creates more questions than it answers. Yet it compels me.

Look, my main point is the person in the tank does not look like Faustina to me and I'm suspicious of the gap in time wherein Jeanne was asleep.

I know I wanted to say more but I forgot and I'll probably only remember after I post this so... Thanks for coming to my crack theory. Don't take it too seriously orz

[creativenicocorner]

A little nonsense blurb to try and make something productive out of my own rude awakening. Don't know if I'll use it for Glow Worms or Refrigerator Problem, or maybe it'll forever live here on tumblr - whose to say.

something something venting with country boy Reigen? Kind of?

Reigen hadn't gotten much sleep. It seemed he hardly managed to sleep as much as he'd like. Yet this time, with the joy of knowing he didn't have to do anything the following day, Reigen allowed himself to enjoy the night and stay up as much as he wanted.

Reading, watching multiple movies, and so on.

It was rare for a city to be so quiet, and that was the magic of three in the morning. When everything became more subdued. Velvety. If he closed his eyes, he could even relax. Not only that, but with three in the morning came the insurmountable joy that no one needed him, would call on him, or expect him to do Anything.

And just like that, everything was wonderful.

Then the crack of dawn seemed to appear, a shocking affair despite it happening everyday. Life slowly stretched awake. The sun's rays oozed between skyscrapers and buildings on its trajectory higher and higher into the sky. And there was a peacefulness in this too that Reigen greatly enjoyed.

Until the nerves hit. Followed by a construction crew working on the building next door. The racking sounds that made his skin grate against his tendons. It felt like a bee maliciously buzz sawing against his nervous system.

Reigen tossed and turned, shoved his head into the pillow, dipped deeper under the covers that did nothing but make him feel too hot.

The construction showed no signs of stopping. Which made logical sense, of course, after all they had only just begun. That didn't mean he had to LIKE it.

Everything felt LOUDER.

Not even closing the window and shutting the blinds helped.

"Why did I ever move into the city," Reigen bemoaned. He groaned, and resigned himself to a horrible morning.

Staring up at the ceiling with blood shot eyes, Reigen wondered what was better: constant unstopping noise, or being teased with silence only for some other sound to come in and hit his mind with a steel chair, metaphorically speaking.

He had no answer, only a sneaking suspicion that perhaps they weren't constructing a building, but were in fact summoning the noisiest demon known to human history.

Then, a while or so later, Reigen sat up and looked around his room. He realized he could breathe easier. That the world wasn't so grating.

"Ah," said Reigen to nobody, "the noise stopped." He sunk back down, relief filling him from head to toe letting out a full lunged sigh.

Silence. Blissful quiet. Reigen folded his hands over his stomach and stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps he could trick himself into daydreaming about looking up the underside of trees. Or birdcalls.

Oh man, he thought, a kingdom for a hammock.

He closed his eyes and tried to hone in on the pigeons that had just passed. A smile tugging at his lips. He could doze to this. Drift to that land of slumber he had neglected during the actual hours of slumber.

That's when the jackhammer started up. This was followed by someone vacuuming upstairs. The added metallic screeching of some unearthly monster, perhaps. A car alarm entered the picture at some point.

Reigen felt like crying. He settled for screaming internally instead.

[lowcal-dust]

Dude. Do you know that there are long-ass fish in the sea. And they have like, bright red hair. Did you know that. Did you know that the sea has beasts that rock a red-and-silver palette and just hang out vertically.

In other words, awakening from my thousand-year slumber, i was inspired to draw an anthro oarfish. And make them look weird as hell, naturally. And actually i wasnt slumbering! I wasnt even not drawing! Im just active in other places than tumblr too! Did you know you can pay me to make something like this and then i wont post it on my tumblr unless i get explicit permission? That's what went on! If you do feel like paying me, just leave the message somewhere i can see it and i will get back to you within a day or so. I accept money mostly in the form of steam virtual gift cards and a sketch like this would cost you about 5 bucks.

[distortedsense]

[ART FOR OTHERS]

This week’s Art for Others (the series where I make some free art for others) featuring @axl-ul’s mythic-historical fantasy story called City of False Gods. The summary:

After the failed pilgrimage to the Western Paradise, Sun Wukong was imprisoned by Buddha once again. Now, he is awakened from his cursed slumber to experience the shocking world of 1920s Hong Kong, or rather one of its infamous islands - Dragonfly Island. Under the supervision of Erlang Shen, Sun Wukong must find his Master while being stripped of many of his powers and forced to take up the identity of a simple auto mechanic at the local police station. Despite his ban and various restrictions, the Great Sage finds himself rescuing a poor orphaned boy who witnessed a murder of a prostitute.

Hunted by the local crime lord and his superordinate with new tasks in the workshop or coerced by circumstances to protect little Zhihao and encounter familiar faces from the past, the Monkey King faces a new trial the fate has prepared for him. Shall he prove worthy of restoring the sutras after all and achieve nirvana? Or shall his name be remembered as that of a treacherous demon who never learnt his lesson?

Versions uncrunched by tumblr for you here

Check it out and show them some support! They don’t have a page for this story set up yet but follow them and keep an eye out for it! This one was a little tougher to arrange but I like how it turned out. If you’d like me to make free art for one of your stories all you have to do is be following me and have a titled writing project!

New episode of Art for Others this time next week >>]