#666 translations

[ceeyuin666]

2022.10.27 Apple Poison

“No matter how you cry or scream, the ending of a story cannot be changed. And you, our guests… well you know better than anyone just how our story ends. In order for the story to have its Happy Ending, we are stricken from the stage. But we Villains are forever! I implore you all to retain the darkness in your hearts”

[spooky-chainsaw-princess]

Again Good Morning Duchess,

But this time properly 🤭

♾️

-🐻

Yeah I thought you forgot to add in your emoji

Good morning ✨

ie Sonne scheint mir aus den Händen

Kann verbrennen, kann dich blenden

Wenn sie aus den Fäusten bricht

Legt sich heiß auf dein Gesicht

[acandletoguide]

Can’t believe the German translation made me believe for 10+ years that Dr Shamal was wanted in 2062 states instead of being wanted for molesting 2062 women.

I got lowkey disappointed that Chuta never encountered Dr Shamal in a holding cell in space prison, or there, at least, being a Wanted poster of Shamal somewhere in the background for nothing orz

[katelynnwrites]

Honigbiene's Tiny Footprints | Laura Freigang x Baby!Reader

warnings: ~

word count: 666

summary: your mama wants to bring a part of you onto the pitch with her when she plays

a/n: part of Laura's Honigbiene, prompt from this tiktok cause it was just so cute

Laura loves many things, her family, her friends, football and her photography to name a few.

But things she’s obsessed about? There is only you.

From your tiny toes to the tips of your tiny fingers, she adores everything about you.

It’s why she wants part of you on the pitch with her.

You’re still too little to do much other than make the cutest baby noises and wiggle around but your Mama feels like you’re old enough for her to return to playing.

There is no lack of people who are willing to look after you on the bench and for the most part, you are content to remain in your baby car seat.

Laura has found that your separation anxiety has lessened and that you can be appeased by the smell of her.

All it takes to keep you calm is a piece of her clothing which is why she keeps a spare hoodie or shirt around, so that she can tuck you in it when necessary.

She had thought long and hard for a while, on how to have a part of you with her when she plays and eventually, she remembers her half used paints.

Your Mama likes painting, it helps her relax but she hasn’t done so since you were born.

What she has in mind feels like the perfect way to start again.

She does have to wait for you to wake up first though and it looks like you’re unlikely to do that anytime soon.

As usual, you’re napping in your Mama’s arms.

With how safe you feel, it’s no surprise that you are completely passed out. Your chest is rising and falling with even breaths and you have your fist in your mouth.

Laura thinks you look adorable sucking on it and she does not have the heart to stop you. Especially with how content you seem.

You’re beginning to grow more hair now. Fine little strands that she loves brushing her fingers over.

Mama watches a replay of a Champion’s League game while she waits for you to finish your nap.

The game is nearly over when you finally blink awake sleepily.

‘Hey Honigbiene.’ Your Mama murmurs.

You squirm in her hold and she places her hand more firmly on your back.

She keeps you against her chest until you look more awake, babbling in increasing volume.

‘Okay okay.’ Laura giggles.

Shutting the television off, she gets up and changes you with practiced ease before taking you over to where she has her paints.

‘What colour should we choose?’

You squeal into Mama’s ear and she grins, ‘You’re right. We should do more than one.’

She picks up a few tubes and then goes to get the pair of new shin guards Under Armour had just sent her.

Then she sets you down on your Silly Mat, thankfully on your back and not your tummy.

For once, she’s not making you lie funny and whine until she picks you back up.

‘Can I get your cute little footprints on my shin guards? So that you can score goals with me?’

You grunt happily and Mama takes that as a yes.

Carefully, she unscrews the top of her paint tube and squeezes out a small drop of paint onto her finger.

Then she rubs it onto one of your feet.

You make another small grunt, kicking your legs a little.

The paint is cold but you’re not really bothered by it.

Nevertheless, Laura quickly repeats the action with all of her chosen colours.

Then she presses your paint covered foot against both her shin guards, leaving behind your tiny footprint in pretty colours.

Your Mama takes a photo before she sets them aside to dry, taking you to wash your feet right after.

When they’ve dried she will pack the painted shin guards into her bag, her excitement beginning to grow at the thought of being able to keep a part of you with her as she plays.

German Translation:

Honigbiene - Honeybee

[misspearly1]

Ner Cyar'ika Baar'ur

Secret Santa Event by @pedrostories

My giftee: @taro-666

Pairing: Din D'jarin x F!Medic!Reader (use of Y/N).

Summary: Working for the Mandalorian as his personal medic, it has become apart of the daily routine to battle against people who threaten his safety, or yours. You're apart of the chaos that comes with the bounty hunting life, but how does one particular quarry change everything between you and Din D'jarin?

WC: 8k

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Fic is set in season one, between episode one to three. Slight changes in the storyline from the TV show. Cursing. Use of Mando'a (with translations). Friends to Lovers. Mutual Pining. Violence and Injury. Angst with a happy ending. Smut. Mentions of wet dreams. Unprotected PIV. Praise kink. Fluff.

AN: Taro! Omg, I've been so excited to share this story with you and to finally come off anon. Hey friend! 👋 I hope you enjoy the read, my love ❤️.

@supernaturalgirl20 Thank you so much for the beta, beautiful! You're a star 🥰.

There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic; you’ve been through a lot and have seen nearly twice as much. Having said that, it’s almost as if you’ve grown used to the mayhem that comes with treating the sick and the wounded because of your line of work.

For instance, it doesn’t surprise you anymore when your boss requires your medical assistance considering he is actually in need of your assistance quite often, and it’s the very reason he hired you in the first place. 

The Mandalorian is your boss, or Mando as he is known to some, and his involvement in the bounty hunting business was never in your interest at first - your a healer, not a fighter - but where there is a fight, there is almost always a need for someone to be patched up afterwards. 

There’s never a dull moment working with the Mandalorian, his daily life is mayhem, more so in the last several weeks since his workload has been busier than usual and seeing that you’ve already adapted to the chaos around treating the sick and wounded, especially on war-torn planets, you quickly adopted his chaotic lifestyle as well.

There wasn’t much difference truthfully, only that you were treating one patient instead of several a day, and rather than coming to you for medical treatment, Mando offered you to move into his ship as an alternative. You didn’t oppose the idea and accepted his offer, not only because the pay is better, but the company is welcome too.

As well as this, you didn’t mind moving into Mando’s ship because he used to visit you regularly for medical attention back on Nevarro. That's where The Bounty Hunter’s Guild is situated, it’s their home base, and although you only stayed in the city for seven months, you didn’t particularly enjoy your time on the volcanic planet. It’s a world of black sand, rocky terrain, and rivers flowing with lava instead of water.  

While it was beautiful to gaze upon at night, it was also deadly as the Reptavion's used the darkness to their advantage, hunting anything it could carry before taking flight. Nevarro provided work opportunities and credits, but it wasn’t a place to call home.

However, the volcanic planet is where you met Mando for the very first time. During the months you were staying in the city, you were working in a small medical clinic, and there were plenty more suitable facilities for the man to visit, but he chose your place of work instead.

At first, you assumed it was for discretion as the clinic's unspoken rule was ‘ask no question, hear no lies’, but sometimes he would come to see you with minor injuries that could be treated by his own hands, thus leading you to believe that he was interested in more than just your help. Besides, you enjoyed the man's company when he would come to visit you. He wasn’t much of a talker back then, but as time passed, he gradually opened up.

Moving into the man's ship brought you closer to each other. You became his partner more than his employee, and you love your job because it simply doesn’t feel like a job. It feels like you're working with a trusted friend, sharing the riches and helping each other out.

Whether or not he was actually in need of your service back on Nevarro doesn’t matter. What matters is that he saw an opportunity with your skills and presented a deal to make your working life better - which it has.

Ever since you moved in with him, your life has become better in so many ways; you now have a place to call home, and you have a friend you can rely on without the niggling doubt of betrayal in the back of your mind. 

Since you were always on the move before, you adopted a cautious nature with everyone regarding every little detail in your life. You never did fully trust people, but you do with Mando. Things are different with him, and one of the many reasons why it's different with him is because you know the man underneath the beskar. 

Many people have heard of Mando. They’ve heard the stories about his reputation in the Bounty Hunters Guild, about how he is the best in the parsec, but his past and identity remain a mystery. Even to you, to some extent, but you’ve heard the stories too, heard ‘warrior’ in the whispers and it’s true. He is a fine warrior, one that fights with grace and loyalty to the cause. His cause; his culture and his religion - the way of Mandalore. 

While many call him Mando, or the Mandalorian in the Guild, you know him as Din D’jarin. You have not yet had the pleasure to see his identity, but hopefully one day you will have that pleasure and the honour. These are just some of the many reasons why you love your job, but to put it simply; it’s because of Din. 

Since there aren’t a lot of things that surprise you anymore in your line of work and partnership with the man, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing that surprises you. Take these last few days for example, it started off with the same regular chaos, but eventually became something you’re not familiar with. 

The loading bay of the Razor Crest is almost packed full of quarries, frozen solid in the carbonite blocks with one more space remaining for the Mythrol. You helped Din as far as your abilities could, and since the tracking fob for the Mythrol led him to a public house on the icy planet, Pagadon, you stayed back on the ship and waited for his return. 

And of course, it came as no shock when Din returned with the Mythrol, thankfully without any injuries, but the blue-skinned man tried to pull a fast one. However, it wasn’t fast enough as the Mandalorian was two steps ahead of the trickery. He always is.

Still, just like the normalities in the bounty hunting life, you made your way back to Nevarro and met with Greef Karga in the cantina to offload the carbonite blocks, receive your payments and gather more tracking fobs leading to more quarries.

The surprise began when the words ‘off the books’ were uttered by Greef himself and from the moment Din took his next job, you had mixed feelings. There was no chain code on the quarry, all you had was their age. Then, Din wouldn’t allow you to accompany him when meeting the client and the very fact he was protective of you in that sense, made you worry about their business. 

In the Guild, it’s common knowledge that you don’t ask questions about the criminals you hunt. You just get the job done and let the proper authorities serve justice, but something was gnawing at your gut. As the day went on and the chaos continued, the doubts slowly began to fade as you settled back into normality. 

The tracking fob led you to a desert planet, Arvala-7, where you met with a kind man named Kuiil working on a moisture farm. It was especially fun watching Din trying to mount the Blurrg and learn to ride them, but you, too, had to learn in order to join his travels to the Nikto Hideout - where the quarry was. 

By the afternoon, you and Din had mastered the art of riding the creatures and you set off to capture the quarry. Just like any other day in the bounty hunting life, there was nothing surprising or out of the ordinary. You worked together like you always do and after leaving you at a safe distance away from the hideout, Din moved forward on his own. 

As battle ensued, you watched from afar and used comms to help the man out. He fought magnificently. More often than not, his skills leave you awestruck. Mesmerized. You prepared yourself and stocked up on the medical supplies before leaving the moisture farm earlier, but remained hopeful that there wasn’t a need for them. 

When the fight was over, the enemy threats were eliminated and Din was unharmed, you made your way to him and entered the hideout together to find the quarry, but when you first laid your eyes on the target, that unsettled feeling returned to your gut. It was an infant baby, a little green baby with big ears and the cutest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

Although you remembered that you don’t ask questions in the Guild about the quarries, you couldn’t help wondering, and worrying, about what the client wants with the child. It couldn’t be anything good if Din didn’t want you present in the meeting with them on Nevarro.

You had many doubts and suspicions, so many that you couldn’t find a single rational explanation as to why a baby had a bounty on its head. Naturally, you asked Din all of the questions you had, but he didn’t have any answers.

Now, as you both make your way back to the Razor Crest with the baby through the mountainous canyons of Arvala-7, you still can’t shake off the nerves around this whole ordeal. Din is many things; a fine warrior in battle, a man of few words, emotionally shielded and well guarded, cold and merciless to those who threaten his safety, or yours, but careless? No, never.

The man isn’t careless. He cares greatly, and deeply, and he, too, knows that something is off about this job. You’ve known Din D’jarin for the last two years and you can sense when the man is nervous. He’s quiet, too quiet, and you don’t like when his mind is on overdrive because if he is worried about this job, then you should be fearful. 

“Alright. What is it?” You finally break the silence to ask, eager to make sense of his sudden edgy state of mind. Halting your walk and turning to face him, you perch both hands to your hips and tilt your head to the side in question, adding emphasis to your desire for answers. 

The baby situated in his floating pod remains close by, right between you and Din as a matter of fact, and he looks up at you both with curiosity. You fight the urge to look at him, to avoid his influence on you as a woman with maternal instincts. The little guy's presence has undoubtedly caused a heavy bout of uncertainty over your heads, a little rift between you and Mando. Not something of the bad kind, but something unfamiliar and foreign. He’s a child, just an innocent baby, so it’s a confusing and an extremely foreign feeling for you both to be transporting him like he’s just another quarry when he isn’t like any other quarry you’ve ever transported before. 

“Din, talk to me,” You shake your head now, frustration evident in your tone, “What is it? What’s got you nervous?” You ask again, although the answer is obvious. It’s because of the baby and all the questions he has for the client, but you want to hear him say it. 

To hear Din himself say that something isn’t right will validate your reasons to be worried, but you were met with silence yet again. The man wasn’t even paying attention to you, he was too focused on the little lizards scurrying across the sand. “Mando.” Stepping forward and calling him the name that everyone else uses, that usually gets his attention, you open your mouth to speak but the words didn’t even make it past your lips as he shoved you back. 

You fell down and watched as he turned swiftly, gun in hand at the ready to shoot, but a blade whacked it out of his grasp, a blade wielded by a Trandoshan. You and Din both lock onto the tracking fob on his hip, the flashing red dot and audible beep familiar, before he then shoves the floating pod away, keeping the baby out of harm's reach. There’s more than one tracking fob, therefore there’s more bounty hunters looking for the child. Bounty Hunters who are careless and don’t ask questions. 

Neither one of you can allow the baby to leave your sight or allow him to fall into the wrong hands, thus causing your legs to act before your mind can think. You quickly rise from the floor and move in to help Din wherever you can. He smites the Trandoshan and they tumble to the floor. Then, he takes the blade from him, before turning around to throw it toward you.

“Stay with the baby.” He orders firmly, and you listen to his instructions. Trusting his fighting skills better than your own, you take a few steps back and give him the space he needs to wield his weapons without hurting you. 

However, another Trandoshan jumps out of cover. “Behind you!” You yell, giving Din a heads up just in time to evade the direction of a blade coming down in his path. The fight continues, and you take a few more steps back to look up, checking the surroundings to ensure there aren’t any more hunters hiding in the shadows. But there was. “Another one, on your left.” You call out. Again just in time as another Trandoshan jumps down from a ledge. 

With one enemy on the floor, but recovering quickly, the odds weren’t in Din’s favour. It wasn’t a fair fight, even though you’re pretty sure he can handle himself, you worry for his safety nonetheless. And although you're not a fighter, you’ll be damned if you don’t try to help even out the odds against him. 

After checking that the baby was safe in his pod, you move toward the closest Trandoshan and raise your weapon. His back was turned, giving you the upper hand to land a blow without deadly consequence. Using the blunt side of the blade, you struck the back of his legs, causing him to stumble forward just at the right time for Din to throw his arms out and punch him in the face, knocking him unconscious as he fell to the floor. 

Now that the odds were evened out, you watched Din’s movements with laser-like focus and only intervened when you saw the right moment. You were sure he could handle himself, and you were right, but the element of surprise was the only advantage the Trandoshans had over him in the beginning. He fought the remaining two easily, eventually leaving all three unconscious and regretful for ever trying to take on a skilled Mandalorian. 

He turns to you, nodding appreciatively. “Good moves there, mesh’la - thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” You shake your head, “You did all the heavy lifting. I was just lending a hand.” You mumble with a sheepish grin on your lips. 

“But I know how you don’t like to fight,” He argues gently with a slight chuckle in his modulated voice. “You fought with me. Accept my gratitude, sweet girl.” 

“Ok, ok - you’re welcome, Din.” Your smile deepens with flattery as he stands before you with what you can only describe as pride. It was the way he looked at you; his helmet slightly tilted to the side, displaying the reflection of your own face, and his hands resting on his hips with a puffed out chest. 

Since you can’t see the man's facial expression, all you’re left with his body language and tone of voice to understand how he feels. And right now, you not only feel a sense of pride from him, but a flicker of attraction too. It’s in the air. The chemistry, the spark, it’s surrounding you both, and it’s something you feel quite often, but never have the courage to act on. 

You’re almost certain that the friendship between you and Din means something more, or at least, it’s heading towards something more. But the intimate moments you share with each other, brief moments like this, make you wonder why he doesn’t make a move.

You don’t even have to see the man's face to know that he’s eyeing you up and down. Upon feeling him lean in, something you’ve felt him do many times before, you muster up the courage to lean in as well.

However, the confidence escapes him at the last second and he pulls back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “We should leave now, mesh’la,” He says, breaking the silence and just like that, the moment is over. “ We need to get back on track and complete the job.”

What? You ask yourself as your mouth falls open and your eyes widen, exhibiting your shock and disbelief. After everything that has happened today, especially after a brawl against three Trandoshans, you're shocked that he is still going to hand the baby over to the client. Din picked up on your reaction instantly and straightened his back, as if preparing himself for a dispute. 

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your cheeks burning up again for an entirely different reason now. It wasn’t flattery, or attraction, it was anger. “Din, you can’t be serious. We can’t hand the baby over to the client. Especially now that we know other hunters are after him too-” You walk over to one of the Trandoshans laying on the ground and retrieve their tracking fob before presenting it to him, “-The client gave you the job, but handed out more fobs? It doesn't feel right and you know it.” 

“Cyar’ika, please don’t do this.” He sighs while running his gloved hand over the scruff of his neck, the pleadings in his voice for you to not argue about this falling on deaf ears. You are most certainly going to argue about this with him. You cross your arms and shake your head, like you had already settled the argument without even uttering another word. But, the dispute was nowhere near settled. “Need I remind you of the code in the Guild?” He asks with a bite to his tone of voice, “If you don’t like this job, I’ll finish this one on my own.” 

“On your own?” You laugh humourlessly while waving the tracking fob. “Good luck with that when the whole Guild could have these! What happens if you get hurt? What then?” Biting back with your own set of questions, you watch as the man huffs a short breath and turns away from you, evidently maddened with your bickering.  “Don’t turn away. Answer me -” You give him a second to answer, but grow impatient as you're met with a lengthy silence once again. “- What happens if you get hurt, Mando? You can’t do this alone.” 

Din turns to you now and stands close, his voice raised to a level that hurts. “I was doing just fine on my own two years ago, Y/N.” Turning away again, as if he couldn’t stand another second looking at you or spend any more time arguing, it didn’t matter anyways as you had ultimately lost the dispute. You give him another second, another chance to make things right and take back what he said, but he doesn’t turn around or mutter a single word. 

“Okay then,” You mumble, lowering your head, “Am I just the medic? Is that all I am to you?” You ask, and still, the man doesn’t turn to face you or answer your question. The silence spoke for him and that was all you needed to know before turning around to walk away. You gave him plenty of chances to fix his mistake, but only until your back was turned did he try. 

“Cyar'ika.” He calls out for you, finally coming to his senses, but it wasn’t quick enough as you didn’t respond to him. You made your way towards the baby and the sound of your muffled cries made his head hang low with shame. No matter how quiet you tried to be, your cries were audible to his ears, enhanced by the mechanics in his helmet. 

Although you were quite visibly sad, he watched you put on a fake smile and talk to the baby like nothing was wrong. The warmness of your soul shone through the misery, causing the little guy to beam and babble baby nonsense. It was a sight so beautiful to witness, so beautiful that it was distracting. 

Din can’t allow himself to get too wrapped up in the emotions that the child brings. It’s conflicting, confusing and…  foreign. He’s never felt this way before. Never felt this way before with any woman around a child, but it’s different with you and it clouds his mind, throws him off balance and disrupts his focus so much that he doesn’t pay attention to what’s most important right now. Like the danger lingering in the immediate surroundings. 

“Y/N!” The man calls to you again, his voice was laden with urgency. “Behind you! Y/N - behind you.” Sprinting toward your position while swinging the strap of his amban rifle around his chest, Din takes aim at another Trandoshan and fires, obliterating the reptilian humanoid to a thousand dust particles. 

You fall down, your knees hitting the sandy terrain below as your pained cries penetrate the sound of his beating heart deafening his ears. You took a hit from the Trandoshan, his blade had cut through your clothes and marked your skin before he was blasted into organic matter. 

“Mesh’la.” He choked. Rushing over and kneeling on the ground behind you, he reaches out to hold your arms. The injury you sustained was across your back, diagonally, at least three inches long and almost half an inch deep. A clean cut, but angry red and weeping with blood. “Easy now, sweet girl. You’re bleeding, just take it easy.” He reassures you with a slight tremble in his tone, his worry for your well-being perceivable. 

“The disinfectant,” You hissed in reply whilst shaking your head, “Get the disinfectant. It’s in my satchel, Mando.” Gently removing your satchel over your shoulder, he places the bag onto the floor and opens it up to search through your medical supplies. Supplies that are normally used for him. There’s irony in the fact you became a medic to treat others, not yourself, and the man despises that his involvement in the bounty hunting business has caused you harm. 

And although he is helping to the best of his knowledge, you’re directing him on what to do. “Open the cap and pour a generous amount over the wound.” You explain, then grab his hand on your hip to hold onto for comfort. He begins to ask if you’re sure, but couldn’t even finish his sentence as your sobbing plea cut him off. “Yes-yes! Just get it over with. Please, Din.” 

Listening to your instructions, he held his breath and prepared himself as he began dousing your back with disinfectant. You bawled with agony, your back arching away from him naturally with the instinct to stop the pain, but to his regret, he pulled you towards him and continued to pour. He clenches his jaw as you cry, his fingers almost turning blue from the force of your grip on his hand. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, to which you don’t accept and stutter in reply. “This isn’t y-your fault.” 

Releasing your hand to place his thumb and forefinger on your chin, he tilts your head to look at him before leaning in. “I’m sorry, Y/N - for this, for yelling at you, for saying that I was doing just fine two years ago and… and you’re not just a medic.”  He rests his helmet against your head and whispers, though his voice breaks with remorse. “You’re so much more than that, mesh’la. You mean so much to me.” 

“Din, I-” You open your mouth to object, but he cuts you off by holding his thumb over your lips while shushing you. “Don’t speak and conserve your energy, we’ll talk about it later. Just let me take care of you first.” He says. 

“No, Din…” You sigh, eyes blinking slowly while slurring your words. “I was going… going to say that I… I can’t keep my eyes… I don't feel good…”  Your body becomes limp as you fall into his arms. Your vision darkens quickly, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the baby's eyes looking at you as he peaks over the pod.

The next time you awoke, it was a brief moment of consciousness. The familiar sound of Din’s amban rifle could be heard as he fired off multiple rounds and your eyes glimmered open to see his legs, the bandolier of cartridges wrapped around his calf. You saw his gloved hand reaching for ammunition to load into his weapon and worried as to why he needed them. 

“It’s ok. Everything is ok,” he says upon noticing you were awake and were fighting to keep your eyes open. “We’re safe here. Go back to sleep, cyar’ika.” 

Eyes closing once again, you couldn’t keep them open no matter how hard you tried to, and his voice soon faded as you slipped into a deep slumber. The silence took over and, oddly, it felt comforting. Although it only felt like minutes had passed, you knew it must have been longer as your surroundings were different. 

There was no longer a warm breeze, but the cold presence of steel pressing into your side, and beneath you, it felt spongy and soft, thus indicating you were laying on a bed. The unmistakable sound of Kuiil’s voice could be heard in the distance as he makes the baby laugh and you open your eyes to confirm your assumptions on your whereabouts, but are met with locks of brown hair instead. 

It’s Din. He’s the cold presence of steel pressing into your side as he sat on the edge of the bed and it’s his hair that you were currently staring at with wide eyes. His back was turned, but you could still see the back of his head and instantly shut your eyes, fearing that if you spent one more second looking, you wouldn’t be able to turn away. 

“Mando,” You whisper immediately, panicking, then feel him moving around. “Mando, why don’t you have your helmet on? Stars! I could have seen your face.”

You begin to shift your position to turn away from him, but are reminded of the wound on your back. The pain struck you suddenly and harshly, causing Din’s hands to dart out to cover your eyes just in time as you opened them with instinct. He was gentle but quick. “It’s ok, mesh’la. You can’t see, it’s ok.” He reassures you through the strained whimpers slipping past your lips. 

“Where is your helmet?” You ask, getting your teeth. You close your eyes again once the surge of pain passes over and the soothing properties of bacta gel takes over. You can feel the substance on your back, feel the stuff working to heal your injury. “My eyes are closed now. It’s safe but… Shit, Din. I saw your hair.” You say apologetically. 

“It’s fine, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly, the sound making your mouth fall open with shock as you retort. “It’s not funny. I’m not allowed to see you - or your hair! What… W-what happens now?” You ask, to which he laughs again and startles you unintentionally when reaching out to cup your cheek. You weren’t expecting to feel his gloved fingers on your skin, but you quickly leaned into his touch as his gesture brought consolation. 

“Look at me,” He requests, “It's safe to look, I promise.” 

Rolling your eyes behind closed lids, you make a surprised sound when he caresses your cheek with his thumb. Again, you weren’t expecting the comforting gesture, but deeply appreciated it. And whether or not it was the bacta gel or Din easing the discomfort in your back, you chose to believe it was the latter.

A short moment passes before you finally open your eyes and find relief in the T shape of his helmet. Although you would love nothing more than to see his identity, the face of his helmet is what you know, it’s home. Your face softens as you relax into the palm of his hand, but the importance and worry around your question still lingers, thus causing you to ask again. “What happens now? I thought I wasn’t allowed to see you without the helmet, doesn’t that also mean I can’t see your hair?” 

“You didn’t see my face, nor did you remove my helmet, mesh’la,” He shakes his head, his voice soft like honey, “It’s okay and besides-” He turns his head, displaying the brown locks of his hair at the base of his neck, “-You can see my hair with the helmet on.” 

“Oh,” You whisper with intrigue, “Surprised I didn’t notice sooner, but your hair is…” Lifting your hand with a desire to touch his hair, you back out at the last second and retract your arm, but Din felt your movements and quickly assured. “Go ahead. I trust you.” 

You reach out again and caress the base of his neck, your fingertips massaging his scalp which draws out the heaviest sounding exhale you’ve ever heard from him; a sigh of relief, filled with endearment and relaxation. It was a gratifying feeling, seeing and hearing the man lean into your touch without fear of betrayal in this moment of vulnerability. Din is vulnerable at this moment, his guard is down and just the mere thought of removing his helmet sickens you. It never crosses your mind. 

“Your hair is beautiful, Din.” You murmur sweetly, a smile on your lips displaying your satisfaction and joy from something so simple. The action of touching his hair which you’d love to do again, to feel him melt in your arms like soft putty and feel a sense of home from your touch, like you feel a sense of home when looking into the T-shape of his visor. 

You gently squeeze the base of his neck, a way of reassuring him, before pulling your hand back, however, it was apparent that he wanted more as he sharply held your wrist and directed your hand back to his hair. “Please?” He asks in a whispered breath, hopeful and optimistic, desperate. “Keep playing with my hair, ner cyar’ika.” 

You laugh, a mixture of surprise and confusion obvious in your tone. The difference in his pet name for you was confusing, and his request for you to continue playing with his hair was surprising. Though, you granted his request gladly and began playing with his hair. “What does cyar’ika mean anyway?” You ask, tilting your head with interest while wondering what faces he was making under the helmet from your massaging movements. “Is there a difference when you say ner cyar’ika?”

“Yes.” He groans in reply, the sound drawing out another laugh from your lips as your smile deepens. You open your mouth to ask another question, until he turns his head to face you and leans across your body. The pause in his manoeuvre speaks of hesitancy, unsure on whether or not you were comfortable with what was about to do. 

The question you had vanishes from your mind as you nod to the man, nodding with confirmation for him to lay down and rest his head in your arms. The bed in which you lay on didn’t feel small until Mando lay on it with you. Not that you minded anyway, but it really detailed the size and stature of the man, especially the broad expanse of his chest and back. 

He raised both hands to his helmet, and before he could even ask, you closed your eyes with baited breath as he removed it to optimize the comfiest position. The position he chose however, was burying his face between your neck and shoulder. You didn't release the breath you were holding, it was snatched from your lungs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought this day would come, but doubt is what kept it at the back of your mind. You never entertained the idea of laying in bed with Mando too much as it felt like a pipe dream to have the man in your arms like this, and now that you do, it feels better than you ever could have imagined.

The pain in your back is practically non-existent now, almost as if you never even sustained an injury, and that’s because of his presence, his proximity and his comfort. It wasn’t a struggle to keep your eyes closed as you basked in the sensation of him carefully laying his weight over you like this.

Something else you’ve also thought about in the past, but tried not to think about too much, is Din laying over you for an entirely different reason. And perhaps it’s because of the level of intimacy in this position that brings those thoughts back to the surface, or maybe it was the electrifying feeling of his lips pressed against your skin. 

The man wasn’t exactly kissing you per se, but the bare contact of his lips placed against your neck like this felt like a kiss. Besides, the vest shirt that you wore left a lot of skin on your chest on display, thus providing Din, and yourself, to relish in skin-to-skin contact.

You could feel his beard, it was a light amount of hair, grazing against you with every little movement of his head. Soon, though, all of those little movements from Din became obvious that he was uncomfortable, as if he kept moving slightly to adjust his comfort.

“Want me to stop?” You ask, wondering if he has had enough of you playing with his hair, but to your delight, he shook his head as he inhaled deeply. He smiles against your skin, thus piquing your interest. “What? What is it?” You laugh bashfully. 

“You smell good, ner cyar’ika.” He replies, nestling his nose into your neck to inhale the natural scent of you. The smile on your face is yet to fade, his actions are what keeps your lips turned upwards, that was until you felt something wet dart onto your skin. It was brief, too brief, but you felt it nonetheless.

It was Din’s tongue, and your smile disappears as you bite your lip, leaving a hankering desire to feel it again. Your skin heats up beneath him as you entertain those thoughts about him lying over you like this for a different reason. You think about how you’ve yearned for his gloved fingers to touch other areas of your body, and as well as wondering about his identity, you’ve also wondered what he looks like nude. A mind is an imaginative place, and you’ve imagined him naked more than once. You sigh softly with the ache between your legs, wishing Din to be the one who eases it. 

“Mesh’la,” He mumbles, grabbing your attention, and when you hum in reply to him, he asks: “Is everything ok? Your heart is racing -” Your eyes spring open with worry, feeling like he could see your dirty thoughts, thus causing your heart to pound harder,  “- Hey, hey, relax. I can move, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, blaming himself for your panic. Although he is to blame, it’s not for the reason he thinks. 

“No, it’s just…” You falter with finding the right words, but the patience to wait for him any longer escapes you. “It’s just that I felt your tongue on my neck and if… Stars, this is going to be embarrassing if I’m wrong… and if you did it purposely, then I want to feel it again, but…” You gulp, gathering your courage to admit your feelings, “...But if it was just a mistake, then I think that we should maybe stop what we’re doing because I’m attracted to you Din.” 

“You are?” He asks, to which you reply firmly. “Yes. Yes, I am.” 

“So…” He smiles, “You like this?” He asks before placing an open mouthed kiss to your neck, his tongue darting out onto your skin again, thus eliciting you to sigh breathily. “Y-yes. Yes, I like that.” Your eyes close naturally as he plants another kiss on your skin, still with a smile on his lips, as he begins to pant. “I’m attracted to you too. Have been for a long time, ner cyar’ika.” 

“Oh, Din.” You moan. With arousal and relief, his admission makes you moan, the sound acting as a catalyst as he moves down your body, his head disappearing under the covers eagerly to hear you moan again. “Are you able to lay on your back?” You hear him ask, though his voice was muffled, you heard him clearly and nod frantically with excitement.

Shifting your position to accommodate him, you couldn’t feel the pain in your back anymore and slipped your hands beneath the covers, your fingers finding his hair with ease. “It’s ok, I’m comfortable lying like this.” You say while focusing on his every move with anticipation. You could feel his breath fanning across your lower stomach, his fingers hooked inside the waistband of your pants as he leans in to place another kiss on your skin. 

You lift your hips up with a silent request, one that he understood without a need for words, and begins pulling your pants down, along with your underwear. He leans in and presses his lips to your inner thigh, nipping a path toward your sex. You unintentionally begin gripping his hair by the handfuls, evidently desperate to feel his tongue delve into your slick folds. The man doesn’t waste time and gives in to his own desperation. 

“Din!” You whine upon feeling the tip of his tongue meet your clit. He teases you at first, moving his tongue in a circular motion with a feather-light touch, the action making your hips lift off the bed to search for more. You feel him smiling against your inner thigh, clearly satisfied with your reactions, before he closes his lips around your sensitive bud and sucks gently.

You let go of his hair to hold the back of your palm over your mouth, quieting your mewls of pleasure to a respectable level. Considering all the noises Din himself is making was driving you feral, it was a struggle to try and keep quiet. He sounded hungry, like a man starved for a taste of your sweetness right from the source, as if he had dreamed of this moment and was making the most of it now that it’s a reality.

Your hands abandoned his hair to grip handfuls of the bed sheets instead, your back arching as you tilt your head to the side and bury your face into the pillow. Your orgasm crept up on you, started off with a happy cramp in your stomach but quickly became bliss as he eased a finger inside your entrance, soothing the ache in your velvety walls. Din grunted heavily, needily, as he drank your desire.

He continued to flick his tongue against your clit while angling his finger into a come hither motion, caressing that sweet spot deep inside. The stars behind your eyes and the goosebumps rippling across your body never felt so good before, especially from the simple act of receiving oral. It’s been a while, a long while, since you’ve last felt the pleasurable touch of your own hands, let alone a man's pair of hands.

You needed this, needed to release all your pent up sexual energy, though it only made you insatiable for more. “Din,” You call to him, calling on his help to your frustrations, “Din, I need you.” 

Suddenly, his hand emerges from the quilt, “Here,” he says, handing you a blindfold. “Put this on for me, sweet girl.” He asks, to which you oblige and pull the item over your eyes hastily. “Ready - now get up here, I need to feel you.” 

Moving up your body without having to tell him twice, he travels slowly and plants kisses on your skin along the way, his smile never fading as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. “Gar’re bid mesh’la… (you’re so beautiful).” He growls wantonly, “...Bid, bid mesh’la (so, so beautiful).”

“I’m not sure what that means,” You giggle, the smile on your lips as wide as ever, “But I like the way you say it.” You reach out carefully in search of his face, to which he helps by directing your hands, and once you feel him, you gasp. “Stars! You’re so beautiful,” you whisper in awe as you trace the outline of his facial features, “Your lips… your cheekbones… nose… jawline… everything about you is beautiful, Din.” 

“Thank you, sweet girl.” He breathes, eyes closing to relish in the soft touch of your palms cupping his cheeks. “I’ll teach you Mando’a and soon you will understand everything I say, but I said you were beautiful too. So beautiful.” He explains, causing your cheeks to burn once again with flattery as you pull him closer. His lips press against yours with a bruising kiss, and you couldn’t help but moan because of the raw passion and loving desire to finally feel what you’ve yearned for. 

Although there was a hint of desperation in his bid to remove your clothes, Din was gentle with his movements, gentle and respectful. You helped remove his clothes too, and with each inch of skin revealed, you marvelled at the bare touch of him pressing against you. You’ve seen areas of the man's skin before when taking care of his injuries, but never fully seen him naked. 

Using your sense of touch to see, you feel his body and drag your fingers along his chest, feeling the brute strength that he holds. The strength of a warrior. Between your legs, you feel his member pressing against your cunt and it was an impressive size. Aching to be buried in your warm. His breath bellowing across your face, hot and heavy, laden with the same sound of relief from earlier when you played with his hair as you admire his body now. 

“Cyar’ika.” He groans. Placing his hands beside your head, you feel his body shudder with need, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly to ease the throb that burdens his cock. You slip your hands around the base of his neck, pulling him in to close the gap and kissing his lips whilst parting your legs. As he lines himself up at your entrance, your hands fall to his biceps, holding him tightly as you prepare from the breach. 

“Nngh,” you break off to moan, deeply and satisfyingly, “Fuck, Din! Keep going.” You lift your head off the pillow to kiss him again, letting him swallow all the little pretty noises you were making as he carefully buried himself to the hilt. Your walls opened up with ease, stretching to accommodate his size. “It’s ok,” You say, pleading for him to move. “I’m ok.” 

“Are you sure, mesh’la?” He asks, to which you nod in reply. “Waited so long for this,” pulling his hips back slowly, he grabs onto your thigh for leverage before burying himself into your cunt again. “Dank Farrik!” He grunts across your face, “So warm and tight. Better than I imagined, sweet girl.” 

The sound of his filthy words made you mewl, having never heard the man speak this way before, you were surprised, yet growing more aroused and confident to be honest with him. “I used to think… Shit!” You stutter as he grinds into you, drawing out a moan from your lips, “...I used to think about this. In the night, while you were sleeping in your bunk, I’d think about you making love to me.” You admit. 

“Oh fuck.” Din gasps. Picking up his pace while resting his forehead against yours, his moans broken and breathless, his cock reaches a new depth inside your cunt, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over again. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” he says, “I took myself in hand many nights thinking about you."  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You quickly warn upon feeling the peak of your climax racing toward you. “I’m close. Stars! I’m so close. Keep talking to me.” You cry, feeling yourself on the verge of tearing up from the intensity of your pleasure, but the sound of his voice keeps you tethered to the moment, preventing you from floating up to cloud nine. 

“I would dream about you often,” He groans while holding the base of your neck, his thumbs dragging across your skin reassuringly, “Wet dreams, mesh’la. I felt so ashamed, but… Fuck, they felt so good. Dreaming about you in my sleep felt so good.” 

“More… Tell me more.” You hiss. Wrapping your legs around his back and locking your ankles together, you feel his hips falter as he moans through gritted teeth. “Your pussy, nngh! I’d dream about your pussy wrapped around me, taking my load, mesh’la. Again and again until you couldn’t hold any more and it dripped out of you. Fuck! I’m gonna… Shit, Y/N, I’m coming-” He cuts himself off with a needy whine, throwing his head back with bliss as he feels you clenching around him. 

“I-Inside,” You begged him, “Please, Din. Come inside of me.” The man couldn’t stop himself even if he tried to. You felt him reach climax, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you, coating your velvety walls as they pulsed around him, as if milking him of everything he could give. “Mando. Fuuck, Mando!” You mewled directly into his ear, your eyes screwed shut behind the blindfold as his orgasm pushed you over the edge. 

White static casted over your eyes as your ears ring loudly, your heart thrums in your chest as nothing but pleasure courses through your veins. You unintentionally dig your nails into his back, clawing at his skin as he reverts to a slow grind into your cunt, the movements pleasuring your clit and prolonging the ecstasy of your high. “That’s it, sweet girl. There you go.” He praises you through it as he comes down from his orgasm, the sound of his voice overstimulating. 

Resting your head back against the pillow as you come down, breathing heavily, he plants loving kisses along your jawline and neck. “So pretty like this.” He whispers sweetly, his voice heavy with satisfaction as your hands find his face again. “Are you okay?” He asks. 

“How…” Your voice croaks, “How do you say happy in Mando’a?” 

“Briikase,” He chuckles, to which you reply with a smile. “Well, I’m briikase right now. Really briikase.” 

“Me too, cyar’ika-” He pauses to brush the hair away from your face, correcting himself. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur.” You open your mouth to ask another question, to ask what difference in his pet names mean, but he leans in to catch your lips in a fervent kiss instead. 

Din pulls back, looking to where your eyes would be behind the blindfold while caressing your cheek. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur... my darling medic. Ni’m ori briikase as pirusti bal ni kar'taylir darasuum gar, mesh’la... I’m very happy as well and I love you, beautiful.” 

You make a surprised sound when hearing some familiar words in his language and learning what they mean, that he has said them before in the past. “I love you too, Din.” You say earnestly, the tears staining the fabric of his blindfold, which you now just realized that he’s kept in his pocket in hopes to use with you one day, like today. You not only became Din D’jarin’s medic, but you became his - his darling medic. 

There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic, but that doesn’t mean nothing surprises you anymore. These last few days have been adventurous and emotional, foreign and unfamiliar, life-threatening and dangerous. It’s been life-changing for you and the Mandalorian, and it’s all because of a baby. The little guys presence not only sparked your maternal instincts, but the protective fatherly instincts within Din too. 

And, although neither of you know it now, the baby is only just the beginning of your treacherous journey across the stars in search of reuniting him with his people.

Tagging:

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[igncrxntripley]

here's a request for cody cause i've been feral for him since the legacy days: american nightmare cody looks very strict, and that translates into his relationship as well (very grumpy x sunshine trope). one night during raw, the reader was acting bratty/sassy cause why not and cody was having none of it. he was actively ignoring them as they pulled lightly on his sleeve to get attention. but as the generous lover he is, he did give them attention when they got home

attention

a/n: made these into headcanons bc for some reason those just process through my brain better...let this hold you over while i work on more secret weapon/deal with a demon

mentions: NSFW 18+, bratty!reader, sub!reader, fem!reader, top!cody, dom!cody, brat tamer!cody, mention of overstim, oral, mention of female anatomy, slight degredation, mentions of marks/hickies on reader, alludes to multiple orgasms

taglist: @babybatlover @ripleyswhore @auburnwrites @obl1vionblackhart @emogoblin-666 @hereliespumpkin @blxxdshxteyes @neptune-lover @bunnysmyname @i-have-issues-lol @ares-athena @thatonepansexual2000 @thesithdiaries

you loved cody. he worked hard to get where he was today, and he still managed to take care of you on a regular basis as if you were the most important thing in the world. it was the one time a week where his undivided attention couldn't be on you and you weren't a fan of that.

granted, cody spent every other waking minute paying attention to you. you should've been able to handle a few hours a week where he was working. but then again, there was something about cody at work that drove you even crazier than normal. it may not have been the right time, but you were going to make sure he knew you wanted him to give you the time of day.

nights that cody worked meant cody in a suit...holy fuck, did you love him in a suit. he knew it drove you crazy and would often as you for your opinion on his outfit, but you were always going to tell him it looked good.

let's be real - you're hanging on cody's arm for dear life the next time you go to work with him. every time you're near him you're holding his hand or leaning against his shoulder, looking at him with big eyes and practically begging for him to pay attention to you. was it bratty of you? yes...did you care? not at the moment.

cody knew the exact game you were playing; unfortunately for you, he could play that much harder and he began to ignore you. every time you said his name or held onto him, he'd simply act like you weren't even there.

by the end of the night though once you got back to the hotel, cody made up for everything that he'd done. he'd push you against the wall of the hotel room, a long hand lightly wrapped around your throat with the other holding your hip in his grasp as he kisses you.

"you really were a little brat tonight, flower." he'll whisper against your lips - that alone is enough to make you shudder against his touch and wrap your arms around his muscular body. this alone asserts the dominance he has over you, but you love every second of it.

cody has you under such a (figurative, lightly literal) chokehold that you can barely find the words to answer him. you can manage a nod and eye contact, but that's not enough for him; he needs to hear you. "nuh uh, babygirl. use your words."

as he's backing you up to the bed and straddling you, his hands running wild over what belonged to him to feel every curve of your body, you manage to squeak out a small answer for him - "needed you...missed you..."

cody will roll his eyes as he takes off the outer layers of his suit and feels your skirt off of your body so he can touch what had been hidden to him throughout the night. his fingers will touch and tease as if you're the most delicate thing cody's ever had under his grasp, taking his time to remove each article of your clothing as well as his own.

"needed me so bad that you couldn't be patient for a couple of hours while daddy worked?" he'll mumble against your skin as he kisses down your body - cody loves to leave marks, so you can guarantee he's placing those across your chest, stomach, and thighs as his way of marking what's his.

before you know it, cody would have his head between your legs, his arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you steady, and his mouth will make itself right at home against your center.

squirming, whining, absolutely writhing under his tongue as he knows exactly how to tease you - but cody isn't going to go easy on you. he'll keep you on the edge until he hears those sweet words and decides he's good and ready to let you release all over his face the way he likes it.

"fuck...fuck! daddy, please? please baby, i need it. please let me cum?"

cody will give you a nod and a gentle tap on the thigh to let you know you're allowed; he works you through every second of it, cleans you up with his tongue, but notices as you relax against the bed sheets with a smile on your face that you think you're done for the night. you've gotten what you wanted...so that means it's time to turn it in...right?

"not so fast, babygirl. i don't think we're anywhere near done."

[the-desilittle-bird]

Hi. I hope, you're okay. I hope, you like my request. Love you. Thank you very much.

When Daemon was still relatively young, he was supposed to be married to Lady Y/n. She is from quite distant lands, so, when they met and greeted each other, the young prince heard an accent. The Lady was very calm and had no illusions about this union. Their walk was quiet and relatively pleasant.

One day, Prince Daemon Targaryen told his betrothed, that he did not love her. She just nodded calmly and understandingly. And she added, that she didn't love him either, but she was ready to work with him. And so it was. In her ladylike manner, she found excuses for him, and even protected the Prince. In general, remaining the same cold-blooded, the Lady was on the side of the Prince. Once she even let his drunken tears water her shoulder.

Once, Daemon managed to close his mouth, before saying, that he desperately likes her. He noticed, that she even began to speak without an accent, and learned the simplest sentences, like thanks and good morning wishes, in the language of his ancestors. Daemon knows for sure, that she didn't take lessons. So, she studied by herself?..

That morning, he planned to introduce the Lady to his dragon, but he was not allowed into her room. And by dinnertime, they reported, that the Lady had died suddenly. To say, that Daemon was upset, is to say nothing. He made a real storm. But that was a long time ago.

Now, after many years and events, he again entered the chambers, where his former fiancee lived and died. He had not dared to enter this room for many years, not sure why exactly. Daemon was not habitually very nervous. He thoughtlessly took a book from a drawer, to occupy his hands, and a piece of parchment and a dried flower fell out of the book at his feet. The one flower, he had given her. There was clearly a Lady's handwriting on the withered piece of paper. She was practicing writing in the language of Ancient Valyria. And among the pile of individual words, written with and without errors, the Prince was able to make out the sentences. "I think, Prince Daeman (he didn't take offense at the mistake) is very cete. I think, I like the Prince. Prabably, this is not good." And here it has already become a hurtful. There was also something written on the other side of the paper, it was her native dialect. Finally, he was able to translate the inscription. "Prince Daemon Targaryen has a very beautiful face. I even envy, how handsome he is. In a good way. I almost kissed him today, but I didn't. I can imagine, how terrible and embarrassing it would be. Feel bad all day again. Probably, it's because of the local climate."

Yes, he hasn't mentioned Y/n all these years, but that doesn't mean, he's forgotten about her.

Author's Note- No proof reading, so beware.

Requests are always open and well appreciated.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

In the Silence

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary- Sometimes you can never forget some people...

Tag List- @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @thekayarlene, @narcy, @helloitsshitzulover, @muushwrites, @daringboba, @bi2simps, @issybee0611, @yariany02, @agathe, @5moremin, @candypurplebutterfly, @saraelizabeth26, @moon-light1415, @targaryenmoony, @stargaryenx, @instabul, @shine101, @hyacinthus007, @mcam623, @eudximoniakr, @carissa_griffin7777, @marvelescvpe, @severewobblerlightdragon, @deltamoon666, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @ultrav0lence, @savagemickey03, @sunmoon-01, @literishdegree99, @watercolorskyy, @Lady-Juliettes, @cherryaemond, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @nats-whore

Warnings- Angst in end

GIF Credits to @targaryensource

Marriage was just another, polite name for boundaries and the young prince hated them the most. So when Daemon was informed that he is to marry a lady from distant lands, he was beyond furious and had thrown a huge tantrum.

But the day he met Lady (Y/N), an amusement grew inside him. She talked in an accent, and unlike the other ladies, she was quite distant, speaking only when spoken too. Their walks would be spent in blissful silence, words never uttered until once.

"I don't love you," Daemon had said abruptly, making the lady nod calmly with understanding. "Neither do I, my prince. But I am ready to work the marriage out," she spoke with such an intelligence that Daemon was surprised.

Daemon observed how she would protect him, lying to the king and his brother when Daemon would do something wrong or sneak out of his room to visit the Flea Bottom.

"I wished to see the Flea Bottom, my king. Prince Daemon being generous offered to take me," Lady (Y/N) spoke in front of the king, Daemon's grandfather, how nodded. "The next time you both shall decide upon such things, take two guards with you."

The matter was dismissed and Daemon's respect for his betrothed grew by millions. A beginning of friendship was on the horizon.

Once, the Rogue Prince had came to her chambers, drunk and on the verge of breaking into tears. She had let him use her shoulder for comfort, cooing and soothing him until he fell asleep on her lap.

The next day, when Daemon woke up to a soft humming. He watched as (Y/N) combed through her soft hair, fingers softly holding the comb. He wished to spell those words out to her that day.

I have come to take a liking in to, my lady.

But the proud man couldn't, and so with a word of gratitude, he left her room and went directly to Dragon Pit. He would spend hours telling Caraxes about her, who would sit calmly listening, nudging his nose in Daemon's side.

Daemon started to notice how the lady's accent disappeared gradually, something he had a mixed feeling about. While the accent discomforted him from time to time, it distinguished (Y/N) from the others.

He was surprised when his ancestral language slipped out of her lips, delicate and slightly mispronounced as she greeted him. He started to brainstorm as to how did she learn Valyrian. He would have known if she was taking classes, and no one else except for his family knew this language.

Daemon's heart soared as he realized that she taught herself the language he held close to his heart.

The next day, as Daemon walked to his lady's chambers, the guards outside stopped him, denying him to enter or talk to (Y/N). With a broken heart, he had spent the day with Caraxes, telling him of the disappointment he experienced that day.

But when the Rogue Prince returned, he was told the news he hadn't expected at all. Lady (Y/N) had passed away.

It had been years since that and the young prince had grown into a cold warrior who takes pleasure in the wars and battles with frequent visits to the Street of Silk.

To everyone, the prince had long forgotten his late betrothed, but only Daemon knew the ache in his heart as he passed through the closed door which led to her chambers. A place which formerly smelt of lavender and citrus fruits.

With heavy heart, he walked in, looking around the layer of dust which had settled over the entire room. Dried bouquets of flowers on the bed, left as a tribute to the woman who stayed there; died there.

Daemon saw a book on the table near her bed. A thick book which he held in his eyes, a few parchment of papers falling from the inside along with a dried rose. One he had gifted her.

On the parchment was her handwriting, Valyrian words with mistakes littered on all the papers. "I suppose I like Prince Daeman." Read one of them.

The prince took in a deep breath, sitting down on the floor as he looked over the papers. All written in his language, talking about him and her growing love for him.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he opened the book, her life written in her words. Praises of her land, the beauty she had seen, her feeling of discomfort on some days and at last in her native words, a letter addressed to him.

My mother always said that writing down everything makes everything easier. So, I write my feelings down today. I have been infuriated by how I feel towards the prince; my betrothed.

Prince Daemon has such a handsome face, I can almost feel my envy sometimes. But the growing love will only make everything complicated. How much I yearn to seek his lips, is a secret only I know.

My days of discomfort are more than those of reliefs, but I am sure it is nothing, perhaps my moon blood signaling its coming arrival. Perhaps something else. I don't know but for now, I wish to relish the moments of love. A love I am not entitled to at all.

People said that the Rogue Prince had no feelings, but if they saw him now, they would have not said that for tears dripped down his cheeks with lips trembling.

[severineofsalem]

My Good Papa

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV / Fem!Reader

Summary: Popia gets annoyed and comes to you for comfort. It turns into something else. (I am terrible with summaries and titles. 🧍‍♀️)

Word Count: 1k

Warning(s): NSFW 18+, papa kink, blowjob, reader and Popia are both switchy, poorly translated Italian, not proof read.

AO3 Link

A/N: Well yeehaw. My first Ghost fic. Even in spirit form, Nihil is still a dick.

Thunderous knocking clashed against your dormitory door, startling you from your treatise. Before you are able to get out of your desk chair, the rustic door flies open, slamming shut after the person.

A frustrated Copia filled your view. His furrowed brows made his wrinkles more prominent. The look in his mismatched eyes made frustration seem like an understatement. He flopped face-first onto the full-sized bed that took up most of the room, grumbling blurry words in his mother language. “Well hello to you too.” At least he knocked.

“Cara mia, that cazzo di merda. He is really starting to-” Cutting off his own sentence, Copia sighed seethingly. The rage filling the once relaxing atmosphere was perturbing. “Copia…?” A mop of brown, salt-and-peppered hair rose from the bed. His gaze meeting yours, softening. “What is wrong?” You slowly made your way to him, easing onto the squeaky mattress beside his laying form. “That dickhead Nihil. Who knew the dead could be so annoying?” The higher up shook his head. “Well if it is Nihil we are talking about…What did he say this time?”

He perked onto his side to face you, bringing a gloved hand to twirl his hair. “The fucking same shit he always says. I am Papa now. He needs to accept it.” He continued rambling, but you didn’t pay attention. You couldn’t help it. The way he growled those infuriate toned words set something ablaze in you. His face matched his vocals. You took notice that he was wearing your favorite ripped and roughed up pants. They complimented the thickness of his thighs deliciously.

It wasn’t often Copia showed this side of himself. He usually came crumbling to you for comfort, comfort you gladly gave. There was just something more firm with this. Something domineering. You wanted to feed the fire that roused inside him. “Yes. You are Papa. My Papa.” You slide your hand against his arm. He caught on to the look in your eyes. A look he knew all too well. It took him by surprise, but he quickly stopped his eyebrows from shooting upward. What he couldn’t stop was the growing smirk.

“I am your Papa. I am a good papa, sì?” He leaned in close, the hand in his hair reaching its way to clasp your thigh. The ferocity that had captivated his mind dissolved into a different kind. “Yes. You are the best Papa.” There was no mistaking the sultry in your voice.

“If he is so good, doesn’t he deserve a reward, eh?” He barely said his last word before you smashed your lips together. The hand on your thigh grasped harder into your flesh, eliciting a muffled moan from your throat. The contrast of his now kneading hand with the roughness of the kiss made your knees weak.

You push yourself away from him, looking directly into his amorous orbs. Placing your palms against the front of his detailed vest, shoving him on to his back. The old mattress screeching with the movement. You both rushed to pull off his layers, ridding all of the upper half. Fuck, it was a sight to see. Skin sunken around the collarbone, the 666 tattoo that was inked above his standing nipple, the happy trail that led to where your intentions planned to be. The sight was completely mouth watering.

“Hmm, what exactly are you thinking, my dark sovereign? How do you want me?” You leaned down, nibbling along his chest and stomach. The action had him writhing and his breath hitching, hands holding onto you. Anticipation was buzzing like electricity through the air. “Oh I think you know, cara mia. Let’s put that mouth to, eh, use?” You landed a kiss on the center of his chest, fingers working on the tie of his pants. A bulge already tenting the crotch of the black material. You smiled to yourself, nuzzling it. “Merda.” A hand grabbing ahold of your hair, tugging.

You took no time pulling out the hardened member. Copia could barely keep up the act. He nearly bit off his lower lip trying not to whine. You licked a stripe against a jutting vein, wrapping your tongue around him. He threw his head back as you sucked the sensitive shaft. Precum melted against your taste buds. The grip on your hair tightened as you began to bob your head. The tip of his cock buried against the back of your throat as you lowered yourself as far as you could. Light brown pubes tickled your nose as you nearly choked. Mouth full, wet, and warm. It was dizzying. You closed your eyes, relishing the way he felt as you swallowed. A strangled groan tore from Copia.

“Let me fuck your throat, sister. Please?” You could tell by the way his hands shook that he was holding himself back from fucking your throat raw. The double tap on his thigh was all he needed. His other hand grabbed your jaw, thrusting into your face. Spurs of moans and curse words erupted from him. Tears pooled in your lower lash line as you looked up. The paint on his lips smeared, nose flared. “Such a good follower. Letting your- ahh! Your Papa use you. Fuuuck.”

Tears ran down your face, soaking his pants along with streams of saliva that escaped your mouth as he pounded into you. Your whines and moans only added to his pleasure. The way he relentlessly thrusted into your mouth had you pulsing. Your own pleasure sleeking your thighs under your habit. You sucked harsher around him. It was getting harder to breathe through your nose. Your jaw was beginning to hurt. You raked your fingers up his belly, digging into the plush abdomen. Goosebumps raised as Copia’s cock twitched.

You intentionally hummed around the throbbing member, causing Copia to yell out. “F-fuck. I’m cu-umming. Oh merda. Yes sister. Y-yes.” His body racked with waves of satisfaction, legs kicking around you. Loads of cum coated your throat, making it somehow more stuffed. You happily swallowed all he gave. As soon as he stopped shaking and the hands on you loosened, you let go with a pop, licking your lips and catching your breath. You crawled up to him, landing on his torso, showering his heated face with loving kisses. You met his gaze, seeing only adoration.

You gave him an innocent look, “Was I good Papa?” That adoration was quickly joined with a dark glint. “Sì, cara mia.” He paused, letting out a deep sigh. He grabbed your hips firmly. “Now, sister. Get on your hands and knees."

You do not have permission to repost/upload onto another site.

[cicada-candy]

Tagged by @moosemonstrous !!

Last song: Formula 666- Sarah and the Safe Word

Favourite Colour- like a Good Dark Green

Last movie/ TV show: 2017 Punisher series. I'm. Unwell about him.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: also a big texture person, but gonna go w/ sweet here

Last thing I googled: Translate. Because I such at Irish but for a more fun answer the one before it was "You're not supposed to die tonight" a queer horror novel a friend recommended :]

Current obsession: all the ANGR au's yall come up with are 🤌🤌🤌 so good, also big on slenderverse atm for some reason lmao

@state-of-disorder @battlevann @fleaearred hand em over 👁👁 (if u want)

[moghedien]

Christians who think that studying = memorizing something without understanding history really hate the “yeah we actually know that the book of revelations was about the Roman Empire and 666 literally translates to Nero. If you put it all in its historical context it’s pretty obviously a revenge fantasy and not an end times prophecy” vibe I bring

[ceeyuin666]

2022.10.30

Malfie: Hey Eight-foot, this party in the human world’s been pretty fun, don’t you think?

Joe: Speak for yourself, I haven’t had fun!

Malfie: What are you talking about? You’ve definitely been enjoying yourself this whole time!

Joe: I NEVER SAID THAT, you’re the one that dragged me in-

Malfie: - I did not, you said you wanted to—

Joe: —not to mention Lady Ursula—

Malfie: —- Lady Ursula has her own—

Joe: —alfie— MAL! FIE!

Malfie: What, what?

Joe: ……. It’s been real fun.

Malfie: …. Hahaha. Eight foot…It really has, hasn’t it?

※made some minor edits

[stealingyourbones]

DPXDC Prompt Masterlist #651-700

651. Danny is a School Nurse 652. Bruce meets College Buddies Jack & Maddie 653. Not Enough Ectoplasm in Gotham 654. Tim Finds Inhuman Danny (Fav Prompts) 655. Respect Your King 656. GL hears of AEA 657. GIW finds Red Hood 658. Gotham and Metropolis on Ghost Council 659. Ghostly Amazo 660. Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell 661. Self Defense Danny 662. Slushie Ectoplasm 663. Kwan: Super Lawyer (Fav Prompts) 664. Killer Croc and Wulf >:D 665. Sam Manson Summoning (Fav Prompts) 666. Tim Summons GK to Find Batman (Fav Prompts) 667. GK is Summoned: Barry Edition 668. Jimmy Olsen: Damsel In Distress 669. Jimmy Olsen is a Ghost (Fav Prompts) 670. Danny Races YJ 671. Red Huntress meets Red Robin (Fav Prompts) 672. Wes Weston and Jimmy Olsen >:) 673. Jim Gordon adopts Danny (Fav Prompts) 674. Tim is Trapped in the Bat Computer 675. Immortal Halfa Tim AU 676. Mute Ghost Speak Jason Todd (Fav Prompts) 677. Jason Todd has Johnny 13's Bike (Fav Prompts) 678. Danny Meets an Imp 679. Harley Quinn finds Cujo 680. Non Linear Nasty Burger (Fav Prompts) 681. Blue Beetle Scarab Ghost Speak Translator 682. Tucker Gets a WaynePhone 683. Wonder Woman and Danny work at Taco Whiz 684. Wes Weston Nightwing Identity Reveal 685. Jimmy Olsen & Danny Identity Reveal (Fav Prompts) 686. Ember meets Firefly 687. Tim Accidentally Takes Ectoplasm (Fav Prompts) 688. Kryptonite is Infinite Realms Currency 689. Kara meets Dani (Fav Prompts) 690. Alfred Meets Danny in Underground Caves 691. Danny is one of Billys Patrons (Fav Prompts) 692. All Liminals Proceed to the Route 693. Billy is hunted by the GIW 694. Golden Glider meets Dani 695. Killer Frost meets Danny 696. Lois Lane interviews Jazz at Arkham (Fav Prompts) 697. The Question goes to Amity 698. Danny Finds the Fortress of Solitude 699. Phantom Girl Finds the Ghost Zone 700. Tim finds Connor. Connor is a Halfa. (Fav Prompts)

[lowqualitygarbage]

TERMINAL. BABY. FACE.

Another silly Vault 666 comic, because every time I draw something with Lucifer in it his stupid baby face bugs me. 

It drives him crazy in-universe too, though. He can’t grow facial hair to save his life (only patchy little wisps of almost-invisible blonde peach fuzz). He is 5'2″ and has a baby face and it is SO HARD to get people to take him seriously sometimes. He likes wearing his lab coat outside of his workshop because people still tend to associate “scientist” with “authority” and he will take whatever help he can get at this point.

Doesn’t help that most Wastelanders age like milk due to exposure to elements, poor nutrition, tons of environmental hazards, and radiation everywhere. 

Text translation below cut:

Charlie: Bye guys, be good!

Lucifer: Have fun, girls!

Angel: Must’ve been tough, raisin’ Charlie.

Lucifer: Huh? ...Not really. The vault was safe, and Lilith was SUPER hands-on.

Angel: Well, yeah, but she’s in her 20s now, right? You must’ve been crazy young when she was born.

Lucifer: Uhh... I’m 47.

Angel: NO FUCKIN’ WAY!

Arrow to Alastor: 36 years old

[prince-liest]

I'll preface this by saying that obviously vox is in NO way ace, but, I've gotta say, wireplay? Just cutting to tbe chase and not having to deal with physical intimacy or sensuality (bonus points if you throw touch repulsion into the mix) HAS to be some flavor of acespec

Like in my head it would be so funny, like if the 666 fic a swapped!AU, in my head that's gotta the only way vox would let anyone get with him like that imo

As an kind-of ace person that just popped into my head sorryjf it's too late in the night for my brain to make any kind of sense

I actually loooove all kinds of character swaps (and alt universe AUs and really anything that prompts me to distill characters down to their most representative traits and try to parallel them to other versions of themselves) so that's a really fun thought, hahaha.

I feel like Vox would be a much hornier flavor of ace than I write Alastor to be, and it would 100% translate to him finding increasingly unhinged ways to get himself off (or let someone else get him off) in an entertaining fashion that doesn't involve anyone actually touching him, and things like wireplay or bluetooth-connected detachable dicks are just the beginning. You can't touch him, but you can play him like a fucking video game!

Valentino out here harangued into playing deranged hentai dating sims where the character he's fucking on screen is basically a sensory homunculus for Vox. Meanwhile Alastor just gets to fuck Vox directly because getting "forced" to do something he's physically kind of uncomfortable with by Alastor specifically is Vox's kink.

[whbtheories]

Character Preview: Satan

Domain: Gehenna

Sin: Wrath

Birthday: July 14 (Cancer)

Idiosyncrasy: spanking

Mental condition: depression

Ability: shapes the blood of those who love him

Theme colours: red, white

~

Interest

Of all the demons in What In Hell Is Bad? seen thus far, Satan's proclivities are perhaps the most tame of all, with only spanking highlighted as sparking his interest.

That said, his subjects are apparently big fans of being hit on the regular by their ruler, and his depression makes him quite the slapper.

Depression and Satan often go hand in hand, whether he is being blamed for it afflicting mortal beings, or portrayed as conquered antagonist or tragic figure.

And of course, his love of violence fits his sin to a tee.

We are told he is a lover of being both the spanker and spankee, but that anyone who gets with him on that level will soon be used to the submissive role 👀

(NB - the usage of S and M as personality traits in this context don't fully translate to sadist and masochist, but rather to dominant and submissive, or assertive and passive personality types.)

July is not a month associated with Satan, however the 14th is apparently Pandemonium Day - with Pandæmonium also being Milton's name for the capital of Hell, ruled by Satan, in Paradise Lost.

If we turn to the lunar calendar then July is also home to the Hungry Ghosts Festival, in which the ghost door opens and allows spirits to walk among us 👀

(The 15th of the 7th lunar month is when Dìguān, the Earthly Official of Taoism, visits this realm to absolve people of sins... And perhaps Satan seeks to beat him to the punch with his tempting deals.)

~

Personality

The ruler of Wrath is unsurprisingly said to be the most violent of all seven kings of hell, but despite this he is friends with all his subjects, an interesting feat.

It helps that the residents of Gehenna actively enjoy being the target of his wrath, with even Ppyong enjoying being slapped on his lil booty.

Satan spends his nights drinking with lesser demons in back alley taverns, suggesting a more casual approach to his conduct. Not so prim or proper.

He is also the first demon we meet in-game, and he is depicted as intense, knowledgeable, and tactically smart. And of course, exceedingly horny. He has a lot of ego but seemingly the skills and wisdom to back it up.

In this respect he is similar to Obey Me Satan in having a strategical mind and a flair for the dramatic, but unlike that Satan, WHB Satan seems confident in expressing multiple emotions without losing his head in his passion.

In tandem with Lucifer - and including Beelzebub who is often conflated with both - Satan is the demon most frequently portrayed in our media, historical and contemporary, and generally appears as one of two archetypes: the odious and not terribly bright monster of Dante's Inferno, often gifted with red skin and pitchfork; or the charming tragic figure of Paradise Lost, who may or may not bring ruination to us all.

This Satan is definitely in the latter camp, though just how charming he can be is yet to be revealed...

~

Aesthetics, symbolism, and my rating in the cut! ↓

Aesthetics

Satan is very much the pretty boy of the demon kings we've seen thus far, with long flowing locks, elegantly long horns, and an innocent looking face - well, other than the glowing red eyes, black cross pupils, and inverted cross mid-forehead.

His long black horns are tipped with blood red to match his eyes, and this colour also highlights his jumpsuit with a Seal of Solomon on each arm.

That seal is repeated in silver as his belt buckle, giving us a demon that is marked by Solomon three times - quite the statement. And in case it wasn't clear, he has the number 666 on him twice, as well as 'Gehenna'.

A full view of his outfit also reveals some katakana but it's beyond my translation abilities - I get something similar to boom/explosion isle which feels half correct at best. Although actually...

I wonder if it's a nod to Bakuon Rettou itself, which would certainly explain Satan's bōsōzoku style outfit 🤔 It's a subculture look from the 80s in Japan, consisting mostly of jumpsuits and bad biker boy aesthetic, with a dose of pseudo-nationalism to a greater or lesser extent - very problematic for irl nationalism, but fitting for a king of hell. They also put slogans on their jumpsuits that were translations of "cool sounding English" (eg "boom island", the literal translation of Bakuon Rettou.)

Bōsōzoku are an old fad now, but as a fashion type they are still popular in surrounding countries, thanks to popular media like the Bakuon Rettou manga.

(And on an even bigger tangent, they were heavily associated with nameneko merchandising, which as you can probably guess is cat related! OM Satan would approve of that part.)

If we see Satan on a motorbike, consider that one solved!

The inverted cross is also repeated - on his boots, his pants, and in the negative space of his heart pendant. This is a far more modern symbol of the occult, as until recent decades it was a holy symbol representing St. Peter.

In modern pop culture though the inverted cross is synonymous with Satan, hence its appearance here.

The placement on the forehead is also notable, as this is where the ash cross is placed on those repenting their sins - the inversion of that would suggest pride and relish of one's sins. Again, fitting for Satan himself.

And he has a final inverted cross on a long cord trailing from his hips to his knees - in this case one that is remiscent of Celtic high and Anglo-Saxon crosses of old.

This cord, along with his many belts and those boots, also ties in with the bōsōzoku vibe.

His thematic colours of white and red are a very provocative choice. White is a colour mostly associated - in this context - with angels and beings of celestial origin, as well as the concepts of purity, divinity, and origin.

For Satan himself to sport the holiest of colours is deliberately bold, not least with it accented by the colour of blood, of violence, and of passion.

His outfit is casual to the extreme but styled expertly. He very much gives the vibes of a delinquent king who is down to drink with his subjects, and he is also the leader whose outfit has least in common with the other residents of his realm.

In some ways this could suggest a demon who is careless about his throne, but imo Satan's look more strongly suggests supreme confidence in his reign.

A (pink-toned) blonde Satan reminds me of Lucifer from DC/Vertigo comics, who unlike Tom Ellis is platinum blonde and fed up of hell, as well as Satan from Ao no Exorcist who is the king of, wait for it, Gehenna.

[I'll dig into Gehenna in another blog ( ಠ▿▿ಠ)و ̑̑]

The only portrayal that comes to mind that has both blonde hair and red eyes though is Lucifer in Shingeki no Bahamut: Genesis - who also sports long black horns tipped with red. Personality wise though, they are completely different.

Overall his look is quite becoming, youthful with a knowing smirk, and absolutely made to tempt with large eyes, and teasing tongue behind a fanged grin.

~

My Rating

Firstly I should admit my own bias - after Mammon, Satan was always going to be the demon I would judge most harshly as I am a big fan of how he is portrayed in Obey Me.

That take on Satan, and the intricacies involved in his origin from Lucifer and subsequent strained relationship and burgeoning personality, are admittedly undercut by later in-game writing that reduced him to a far flatter interpretation. But still, the juice was there!

So, bear in mind that this is a harsh personal eye I am casting upon this Satan.

Satan and Lucifer both have the biggest challenge in being portrayed in a new and unique fashion, having been done so many times before, and in my opinion this Satan does an excellent job of establishing himself with an iconic new look.

The long pastel hair and large eyes give great contrast to massive horns and slit pupils, while his outfit is impressively modern and stylish.

Only one very minor criticism would be the lack of tail, but considering none of the WHB demons have yet been shown with one, that is either a deliberate stylistic choice for the whole game, or we simply haven't yet been granted permission to see them. Either way, as it applies to all, it can be disregarded.

This Satan stands as very distinct from OM Satan, and really from any other Satan I can think of. The long hair is a really nice touch, especially given his overall contemporary vibes.

One of the prettiest Satans I've seen, and one of the most intriguing.

10/10.

[suvidrache]

Baraka NSFW Alphabet

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 666 / Read it on AO3 | Offline Version

A: Aftercare - What they're like after sex?

- This being his second time, he's not quite sure what to do. You'll have to tell him. He'll either be up for another round or sleep.

B: Body Part - Their favorite part of themselves/you?

- His arms or his cock. It's the least terrifying thing about him. Also, he's pretty big, and in Outworld, the bigger the better. For you, it would be your legs.

C: Cum - Taste, texture, etc?

- Salty and an almost grey color

D: Dirty Secret

- His sense of smell is great. He'll know when you're turned on and he loves that smell. From time to time, he may tell you that you smell great.

E: Experience - How much experience do they have?

- He slept with Mileena before, it wasn't a very enjoyable experience.

F: Favorite Position

- Doggy style. That way, you don't have to see his terrifying face. He will, however, do other positions if you're 100% sure and okay with it.

G: Goofy - How are they: serious, funny, etc?

- He doesn't know many jokes and probably wouldn't understand some of them. However, he's not serious.

H: Hair - shaved, not shaved, color?

- Unshaved, it's the only hair he has. He has no desire to trim it either. Black.

I: Intimacy - How are they romantically?

- Mileena's a very demanding individual, he wouldn't want to treat you and her the same. Not very romantic, as he isn't sure what to do.

J: Jack Off - How often do they masturbate?

- Whenever he feels the need. Every couple of months.

K: Kink - Their kinks?

- Breeding, that's about it since he is limited because of his teeth and he doesn't know very many others.

L: Location - Favorite place(s) to do it?

- The bedroom. He doesn't really want to do it elsewhere, especially where people may see it. However, he wouldn't be opposed to showing everyone who you belong to.

M: Motivation - What gets them into it?

- You being turned on, lingerie, and seeing you naked.

N: No - Will not do/turns them off?

- Anything that causes pain or death or involves another person.

O: Oral - Giving, receiving, skill?

- Loves giving. He does have a long tongue, so it wouldn't be a problem. If you're scared, his teeth may cut you, he's fine with receiving.

P: Pace - Fast, rough, slow, etc?

- Hard and slow, unless he's angry at something, not at you.

Q: Quickie - How often?

- Whenever you want.

R: Risk - Willing to take risks/experiment?

- It depends on what it is. He would like to discuss things before trying anything.

S: Stamina - How long/many rounds can they go?

- 4-5 for about 40 minutes.

T: Toys - Do they have any/will they use them?

- No, he's never heard about them. You can't convince him to try them. He doesn't like them, they're annoying, and he can pleasure you far better than they can.

U: Unfair - How much do they tease?

- Not a lot, he's too busy trying to not cum inside you after just getting inside of you.

V: Volume - How loud are they?

- Not very loud, but will growl and say your name. He, unfortunately, cannot moan, so he growls instead. There is a difference between his anger growls and his pleasure growls.

W: Wild Card - Something random?

- Wouldn't mind kids. Him cumming inside of you multiple times is more of a way to show people who you belong to. Although no one can see and no one may know, the other Tarkatans will, due to their sense of smell. If you don't want kids, he'll break up eventually, as he does want at least one.

X: X-Ray - Size, appearance, etc?

- 9½, slightly paler than him, darker towards the tip. Some noticeable veins, uncut.

Y: Yearning - How high is their sex drive?

- Pretty high, but has a lot of self-control. He will be in the mood when you are.

Z: ZZZ - How quickly do they fall asleep?

- As soon as you do, unless you're taking too long.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

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