#I'm working through some older commissions before quietly opening commissions back up...

[inprogresspokemon]

These Fire-type Pokemon were commissioned and designed by @kyuremfan24. They are the Fire Starters of the Nenal Region.

Leeat (Fire) Cub Pokémon #004 - Born in a pride of its evolutionary line where only the strong can stay, the weak are kicked out. Instead of accepting defeat, the weak Leeat don’t give up, making them a symbol of determination within Nenal; those strong enough to stay become symbols of strength.

Wapion (Fire) Photosynthesis Pokémon #005 - A very prideful Pokémon, Wapion use their manes to absorb sunlight to boost the power of their inner flame, a fire that increases their strength whether they are among their pride or all alone. Though difficult to tame, Wapion who have been trained are extremely loyal, protecting their companions at all cost.

Sereeuw (Fire/Grass) Sergeant Pokémon #006 - Mighty warriors and leaders of their prides, Sereeuw will roar orders to other Pokémon like a commanding sergeant. For stubborn subordinates they will either use a blazing rage to impose fear or a soothing smell to calm them down, obtaining obedience from even the most obstinate underling.

More Nenal Region Fakemon

Austa Region Fakemon

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[bluecookies02]

Teacher!Aizawa x Student!Reader -Feathery mess/NSFW/-

warnings: teacher/student relationship(the student is of legal age).

quirk: angel wings

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You've been squirming in your seat like crazy for the past 30 minutes, your thighs rubbing together as you watched the man lazily write stuff on the board, his sleeves raised up to his shoulders and his hair tied in a messy bun.

You've been eying the man for years, always too afraid to step up or say anything (for obvious reasons), and even now as you're nearing the end of your education, there's this annoying feeling in your tummy that's making you all giddy and impatient.

It's the last class of the day, all of the students tired and just wanting to go back to their dorms while you're here, dreaming about being stuffed by the black-haired man's cock.

Your wings puffed in your seat as you chewed on your pencil.

You didn't exactly care about anything he was saying, the only thought as you looked at his moving mouth was the fantasy of it lapping at your cunt.

Such sinful thoughts shouldn't cloud the mind of someone so seemingly innocent and pure.

Your feathers ruffled up as you placed your head in your arms, alerting some of the students and obviously motivating Bakugou to ~quietly~ shout you out.

You paid no mind, still staring at the man in a haze...He must've felt something...

He was always so gentle and caring, offering to rub and clean your feathers on countless occasions after training, always checking up on you or coming to your table if you needed help with anything.

While he might've done that to everybody, you felt like he had a particular fondness of you. Maybe it was just your imagination...

Your wings fluffed back down, slumping against your back as they curled around your tiny form.

You spent your years in this school pinning for someone you might never have, instead of going out to parties and meeting new people. And the biggest problem was, you weren't only painfully attracted to him, but you also caught yourself falling in love with the man.

Maybe if you were a bit older? What if he already had someone and it was impossible from the start? You didn't want to know...it would crush you completely.

The bell seemed to have rung a few moments ago, all of the students already having their bags packed and on their back, leaving through the door one by one.

You stuffed your notebook in messily, crumbling it as you pulled the zipper. You stared at the floor as you made your way in-between desks, just wanting to take a long warm bath and cry.

"Y/N, everything alright?" your eyes darted to the voice, your mouth suddenly drying up as you just gave a weak nod.

Before stepping anywhere further, the door was pushed closed in front of you, the tall man hovering over you as he looked at you with warm eyes.

"You know you can talk to me, I want to help..." he trailed off, reaching for your hand as you hopelessly gave it to him.

He sat you down on his chair, him leaning against the table.

"I'm sorry Mr. Aizawa...I don't think there's anything you can do to help me in this situation."

Your wings felt heavy on your back, actually, your own bones felt heavy too.

He reached out to pet your head comfortingly, noticing the way your cheeks flushed and your feathers straightened.

"Can you look at me real quick, please" you raised your head a bit, looking at the man with scared eyes.

Your wings betraying you as they gave a small twitch.

"Y/N, please correct me if I'm wrong because I don't want to make you uncomfortable in any way" you nodded, waiting for him to go on.

"Is it a crush problem?" you nodded again, eyes falling down to your lap.

"Is that person in our class?" he questioned, his shoulders stiff.

"Theoretically..." you mumble, your form shaking a bit as you took in a deep breath.

"And theoretically...I personally...am actually capable of helping you out?" you clutched at the chair for a second before trying to will your legs to move and get you out of here.

His fingers hooked your chin up gently, your teary eyes closing and squinting shut.

"So you literally gave yourself a heartache for nothing angel" he mumbled softly, pulling you up in front of his face.

"Can I kiss you sweetheart?" you stared at him in shock, brainstorming through what's about to happen, your heart skipping beats as his breath ghosted over your lips.

"Pleasee" your needy voice filled his ear before he smashed your lips together, his arms snaking around your back and under your wings, pulling your body flush against his, holding you tightly as he deepened the kiss.

Your wings fluffed back, full and strong, flexing as they tried to look pretty and inviting.

He chuckled into the kiss, dragging his dull nails across the junction of your wings, kneading at the soft feathers.

You hummed in his mouth, pressing harder against him as you tangled your hand through his hair.

Once the two of you stopped to breathe, you were pushed onto the desk, your legs spreading to let him come back closer.

"It's my turn to lock all of the doors on this floor, no one will come here" he mumbled, gently kissing at your neck.

"Please...don't make me wait...I'll beg if I have to" you whined, fisting the fabric of his thin shirt.

"No need sweetheart, we'll have time to take things slow some other occasion." his long fingers slipped beneath your skirt, rubbing over your panties as he felt the soaked patch of cotton.

"Dirty little feather...were you thinking about me during class today? Do you even know what the subject was?" he grinned, pushing the fabric aside as he slipped a finger into your heat.

"I...maybe?" you whispered tilting your head back as he pumped the digit carefully, working you open before slipping in another one.

His lips swallowed up your moans, his free hand creeping under your shirt and rubbing at your flush skin. His fingers curled up, pushing snuggly against your spots making you gasp into his mouth.

"I'm gonna make you feel so full angel, is that what you want? For me to take good care of you?"

Your hands reached for his pants, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper, slipping both his pants and boxers down.

Your wings shook a bit, your mouth watering at the sight of his cock. It looked painfully hard and heavy, twitching each time you clenched around his fingers, his tip oozing out pearly liquid.

You still couldn't fully believe everything, but the fact that he was willing to risk his job for you had to count for something.

"Hey princess, you think you could take it now?"

His forehead pressed against yours, breathing in deeply as he pushed another finger in.

"Fuck...Please, I'll go mad if you don't" you cried out, tugging at his cock as you slicked it up with his precum.

He groaned, his flush tip now rubbing over your clit and your puffy lips, hissing once he began to sink you down on his length.

You gasped at the feeling of being so stretched out, the countless times you had you pussy full with your toys couldn't compare to this.

Both of his hands found purchase on your hips, slowly guiding you against his cock, slipping out and sinking back in, his small groans coming out after each thrust.

You clung to his broad shoulders, keeping yourself steady as his pace picked up, the filthy sound of his dick plowing in and out of your soppy cunt filling the classroom.

"I'm gonna take you to my house after this princess, make you cum again and again, make you all nice and cozy and abuse your little hole...you kept me waiting for so long, kept this dirty little pussy all to yourself." His voice always sent shocks of pleasure through your cunt, the raspy hum his words held always making your thighs clench together.

"Oh baby you're just swallowing it all up, such a greedy little student I have...oh...look at you...you're gonna cum on my cock? I can see you shaking princess" your hand reached for your puffy clit, flicking it with the tips of your fingers in a hurry.

Your wings were violently flapping everywhere, sprawling around before wrapping around Aizawa as you came with a soft cry, clenching down on his length as he continues to push past your spasming walls, pounding you through your high as he struggled not to cum. You were gushing around his shaft, creaming over his cock and ruining his desk.

Once he couldn't hold out any longer, he pulled out, giving a few rough pumps with his fist, warm waves hitting your skin and coating your clit, dripping past your folds and sliding past your hole, your wings holding onto him tightly.

He rubbed his seed in possessively, gliding his cock along your sex before pulling your panties back in place, finally calming himself down.

He holds you by your hips for a while, kissing at your clothed shoulder and whispering praises into your ear, talking about wanting you for so long, dreaming about you, touching himself at the thought of you, praying to everything out there for a chance to hold you like this.

"Hey...didn't you say something about locking doors?" you mumbled tiredly, nuzzling your head against his cheek.

"Yeah maybe in a minute" he muttered out, kissing your forehead gently.

Thank your quirk for making you so obvious. Or maybe it was his devotion to you that made it easy for him to read you so well...

this lil commission was by @sinclairsamess, they r the sweetest little thing to exist 🥺. thank you for pointing out that I don't actual have a filthy chapter for my favourite teacher, shame on me! So as an apology I offer this soft little thingy🦋

Requests:closed

commission:open (1 slot)

Ko-fi link is in my bio💕

[eirianerisdar]

I have a question about the story where Obi-Wan is mute and how Ahsoka reacts to that... I think they'd really get along, perhaps Ahsoka would be even better at understanding Obi-Wan than Anakin is.... how does Anakin react to this, and do you maybe have a short snip from when Obi-Wan and Ahsoka meet? *makes puppy eyes* (by the way, I'm anonymous reviewer ErinKenobi2893 from Fanfiction)

Erin! Lovely url you have here - I approve of it greatly. I haven’t really thought all the way ahead to clone wars era yet in The Silent Song universe, but I’d be happy to write you a snippet (an AU of the AU, in a way)

In this AU of TSS, we assume Obi-Wan is still 1) unable to speak and 2) recently elevated to masterhood upon Anakin’s knighting, according to canon.

Silent Laughter

Ahsoka Tano feels the thrum of the repulsors shiver up her new field boots, and quells the shudder before it can travel to her clenched fingers. She is not quite successful.

There is muffled boom as landing struts meet duracrete.

Ahsoka swallows past a throat completely dry and checks herself over. Her boots are shined to perfection, her belt buckled night, her lightsaber clean and oiled at her hip. The weight of the Akul teeth that frame the edge of her montrals carry the pride of her heritage; the new string of silka beads behind her right lekku her hope for the future.

Her hands unclench from beneath her newly-requisitioned bracers.

The transport has landed, and she is one durasteel wall away from Christophsis, war, apprenticeship, and a commission as Commander.

In the short moment before the ramp opens, she straightens her spine and cocks her head to a point just between polite deference and confidence. She is Ahsoka Tano, and she will soon be Anakin Skywalker’s padawan. From the stories whispered between the Initiate dorms, he will most likely appreciate a little…attitude.

The thought makes her smile, ever-so-slightly.

The ramp thuds onto cracked duracrete. The light of Christophsis’s sun spills into the dim hold, and Ahsoka has automatically descended halfway down the ridged metal before she fully registers the two figures waiting below.

One stands confident and cocksure, his robes a dark symphony of black and crimson, a scar skirting the edge of his right eye - eyes the colour of fire beneath earthy soil. The other, slightly shorter than the other, older, in flowing cream robes and white bracers to match, a curl about his lips that suggests a wealth of hidden humour, and eyes the deep, still blue of a silent sea.

Anakin Skywalker, and-

And?

Ahsoka glimpses the sheet of flimsy tucked into the older Jedi’s belt.

Oh.

Her heart skips a little at the realisation that she stands before two legends.

Anakin Skywalker may be the Chosen One, but Obi-Wan Kenobi - Obi-Wan Kenobi is the Silent Jedi. The master negotiator who does not speak; the Jedi that led a generation of young apprentices to wisdom and glory.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is the Jedi. And he has earned that title without speaking a single word.

I should have known it was Master Kenobi; I was sent here to bring a message to both masters.

Both senior Jedi seem surprised at Ahsoka’s arrival, though they certainly show it in different ways. Master Kenobi’s eyebrows raise just a fraction but relax almost immediately, as though he registers the surprise but accepts it, waiting calmly for an explanation. Master Skywalker’s scar tightens, though, as he frowns down at her from an admittedly very high height.

“And who are you supposed to be?” he says bluntly, a broad, Outer-rim accent stretching his words.

Ahsoka almost starts. He sounds far younger than she had supposed.

Master Kenobi tilts his head slightly at this, and though Master Skywalker cannot possibly see the motion from where he stands, he flicks his gaze towards his former Master, a brief look of chagrin flashing over his features.

“I’m Ahsoka?” Ahsoka replies, deciding brashness is best met with confidence. “Master Yoda sent me to tell the both of you that you need to return to the Temple. There’s an emergency.”

Master Kenobi folds his arms thoughtfully as Master Skywalker explains - just as blunt as before and slightly too heatedly, in Ahsoka’s opinion - exactly how pinned down the 501st and 212th are, and the utter mess that is both communications and Christophsis in general.

She replies as well as she can and offers to route a comm back to Coruscant through the orbiting cruiser. Master Kenobi’s smile becomes a little less faint at this, as though he sees her move and approves.

One cut-off holoconference to the Temple later - Ahsoka had been quietly impressed at the speed with which Master Kenobi typed replies to Master Yoda’s questions - she finds herself once again facing two inquisitive Jedi.

“Well, we’ll have to hold out a little longer,” Master Skywalker - no, Anakin, because Master Skywalker just doesn’t seem to suit him - says, without any real heat.

Master Kenobi gives his head a little shake, pulling a stylus out from under his left bracer and penning a few quick lines across the flimsy at his belt. To Ahsoka’s astonishment, he extends the flimsy to her. She bows automatically over it as she takes it, but then a gloved hand is on her shoulder, straightening her.

He smiles and shakes his head at her confusion, as if to say: Forgo the ceremony.

Ahsoka opens the flimsy, and is struck with the smooth elegance of the script.

My apologies, young one. I should have introduced myself earlier. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am your new master.

She blinks. What? “I’m Ahsoka Tano,” she replies as she hands back the flimsy, barely remembering not to bow - The flick of Master Kenobi’s eyebrow says the motion does not go unnoticed - but she hurries on to avoid confusion. “I’m at your service, Master Kenobi, but I’m afraid I’ve actually been assigned to Master Skywalker.”

The look on Anakin’s face is priceless.

If there is any surprise in Master Kenobi’s eyes, it is soon replaced by mischief. His beard does not quite hide his delight.

“What? Nonononono,” Anakin splutters. It would appear shock galvanises him into motion; he circles around behind Obi-Wan and back to the opposite side, as though he is a small planetoid that escaped orbit, but suddenly decided it was not that good of an idea and so returned to its proper tether.

Ahsoka’s eyes widen. Huh. So Master Kenobi is Obi-Wan to her now? Maybe Anakin’s personality is rubbing off on her already.

Obi-Wan runs a hand over his beard as the faint crowsfeet at the edges of his eyes crinkle. Ahsoka is sure he is hiding a grin.

Anakin is still rambling. “There must be some sort of mistake. He’s the one who wanted a padawan!” The latter is said as he points one black-gloved finger at his former master.

Obi-Wan gestures mildly back at him, unaffected.

“Hey, Obi-Wan, you can’t do this!”

Obi-Wan looks pointedly at Ahsoka.

She folds her arms and narrows her eyes at Anakin. “Master Yoda was very specific. I’m assigned to Anakin Skywalker, and he is to supervise my Jedi training.” There. You can’t send me back, now.

Amusement leaks over the edges of Obi-Wan’s shields. If he is as formidable with shielding as he is with a lightsaber, Ahsoka is sure that inside, he is doing the Jedi-Master-equivalent of howling with laughter.

-That is to say, he pats a wide-eyed Anakin on the shoulder in a gesture of mock comfort, gives Ahsoka’s back a firm push in her new master’s direction, and then swaggers - there is no other word for it - over to where two gold-striped troopers are conversing quietly.

Ahsoka notices the one with command markings on his armour seems to know the Jedi is approaching even though he faces the complete opposite direction.

A voice sounds above her head. “You don’t see how he communicates with his troops.”

“No, I don’t,” she admits, turning back to where Anakin seems to have mostly calmed down.

“He holds all of the 212th Attack Battalion in his mind. At once.” Anakin turns and begins to walk, tracing a path through the clutter and debris.

“What?” Ahsoka has to raise her voice above the shouts and orders of the troopers around them.

“Technically he’s a High Jedi General,” Anakin says. “That means he’s in charge of a Systems Army - one of ten really big chunks of the GAR - but he personally commands the 212th. He gives general orders on text through HUDs, but on the ground he gives…impressions and images through his mental link with them. It’s usually enough for them to get his commands.”

Ahsoka’s jaw drops. “But that’s…”

“Close to six hundred minds, yes.” Anakin makes this statement without any particular awe in his voice, as though this is not unexpected of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

A slight niggling at the back of Ahsoka’s mind suggests that perhaps her suspicion is right. Obi-Wan Kenobi is…something. Something different.

“We’ll sort this out later,” Anakin mutters.

“Sorry, sort out what?” Ahsoka asks, jarred out of her reverie.

Anakin pulls up short, looking back at her. “The…apprenticeship thing.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t know what to say to that.

Anakin raises one hand to scratch embarrassedly at his mop of brown hair. “Uh, it’s not that we’re going to send you back, it’s just-” he pauses. “Let’s see how this works out?”

Ahsoka looks up at him and sees a young man Knighted early because of war, just as she herself is now sent to the field earlier than any previous generation, simply because a commander is needed in battle. So different to Obi-Wan’s steady, wise humour, obvious and constant even in the ten minutes she has interacted with him.

She can see why Anakin needs a padawan. But she can also see that he will not teach her alone.

“Okay,” she says, simply.

Anakin smiles, and it is a flash of white teeth in a confident face. “Come on, then. I’ve got to introduce you to Rex.”

@doctorwithafryingpan​ I hope that this is what you wanted! I’ve wanted to write tcw fanfic for a long while. I surprised myself with how much I enjoyed writing this, though if the way Obi-Wan communciated with his men continued on to Order 66, we may have…extra angst. O_O

If anyone wants to read more of my work, you can find my stories on fanfiction.net and my Masterlist. Do reblog if you like!