#verse: universal drift

[biscuitincharge]

@spinel-deymayo-universe

Talking to the Diamonds was never something Steven was comfortable with. That's why, even when he had business with them such as the progress of Project Refoliate, he preferred to do it by proxy through other Gems. That was usually though Lemon and Blueberry, both of whom still seemed to maintain fairly good relations with their respective old Diamonds even after they were stripped of their status and political power.

Steven, however, was not in the best headspace at the time, exacerbated by recent events he'd really rather not talk about, and he came and talked to the Diamonds directly anyway. But that was probably a reason why this would've been one of the worst times he could've done that.

Leaving the palace, Steven needed to get away for a bit to clear his head. Yellow and Blue Diamond were of no help, and he shuddered at the idea of what trying to go to Her for help would do.

[cityandking]

oc asks: AU ABCs

Same characters, different worlds! Send a letter to learn about an alternate universe.

A. alternate universe. What kind of AU is your OC best suited to? Are there any AUs they're in already? What are they?

B. band au. What is your OC like in a band AU? Are they a performer or a groupie? What instrument would they play? What's their relationship with their bandmates and/or the group(s) they follow?

C. coffee shop au. What would your OC be like in a classic coffee shop AU? Are they at all suited for the barista lifestyle? What's their go-to coffee order?

D. duplicate. How would your OC react to meeting their clone or doppelganger? What if they were a clone or doppelganger? How would they feel about that?

E. education. What would your OC be like in a high school and/or college AU? What would their major be? What would they teach if they were an educator?

F. fey. What kind of fey or fairy creature would your OC be? Would they be in a spooky, intense fairy world or a playful, lighthearted fairy world?

G. gods. What would your OC be the god of? If they were a demi-god, who would their divine parent be?

H. horror. Would your OC survive in a horror situation? What would their role be? How would they deal with being tossed in a horror scenario?

I. intellectual property. Are there any popular series or franchises that your OC is well-suited for? Which 'verse(s) and what makes them so well-suited?

J. (J)RPG. What kind of hero would your OC be in a JRPG (or any other RPG). Would they have any special skills, weapons, or finishing moves? What tier character would they be?

K. kids. Does your OC have kids? What are their kids like? If they don't have kids, would they? What would they be like as a parent?

L. lovers. Does your OC have different partners in different AUs? What might their love life be like in an AU? How would they do in a romance genre, like romantasy or a romcom?

M. multiverse. Are there any points in your OC's life where things could have gone differently? Where else might they have ended up? How would your OC react to crossing the multiverse and meeting another version of themself?

N. normal. What's your OC's normal world like? Are they in a fantasy setting, a sci-fi setting, the modern world? Share a little about your character's normal life.

O. omegaverse. What’s their subgender? What's their scent? How do they feel about it?

P. pacific rim au. What is your OC doing in a Pacific Rim AU? Are they drift compatible with anyone? What would their jaeger be called?

Q. quiet. What would a quiet and peaceful life look like for your OC? Would they enjoy living a simple life or would they get bored?

R. royalty au. How would your OC handle being royalty? If they're already royalty, how would they deal with being a commoner? What kind of royal would your character be?

S. star wars au. What would your OC be like in a Star Wars AU? What era would they be in: sequel, prequel, original trilogy, old republic? Would they be Force sensitive?

T. (star) trek au. What would your OC's role be in a Star Trek AU? Are they part of Starfleet? Another organization?

U. underworld. How would your OC deal with being part of a criminal underworld? Would they be a thief, a spy, a conman? Something else?

V. vigilante au. What would your OC's superpower be? Would they be a hero or a villain? Do they believe that with great power comes great responsibility?

W. werewolves (& vampires). Is your OC more of a vampire or a werewolf? How would they feel about being turned into a creature of the night? Would they be part of a clan, a pack, a coven?

X. (e)xtra. Is there an AU missing from this list? Share something about it! What would your OC be like in that new world, story or scenario?

Y. YA. How would your OC fare in a popular YA franchise, like Hunger Games or Divergent? Would they buy into the system? Fight against it? What would their district/faction/house/etc. be?

Z. zootopia. What animal would your OC be if they were an anthropomorphic animal? Would your OC be a furry? What would their fursona be?

[andy-15-07]

Whispers by the Firelight

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word count:1284

Harry Potter Masterlist | request (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

The common room was quiet, the soft crackle of the fire the only sound breaking the silence of the late hour. The stars outside peeked in through the tall windows, casting gentle silver light across the room. Harry sat at a low table, his eyes warm as they drifted toward you, absorbed in your every movement as you settled into your favorite armchair with a well-worn book.

"Hey," Harry said softly, sliding into the seat beside you. "Mind if I join you?"

You looked up with a gentle smile and patted the cushion beside you. "Not at all, Harry. I'd like the company."

He sat down, his gaze never leaving you. "What are you reading tonight?" he asked, curiosity lacing his tone as he leaned in to catch a glimpse of the book's cover.

"It's a collection of Muggle poetry," you replied, holding the book a little closer. "I thought it'd be nice to try something different, you know? Sometimes I feel like magic exists even in the quiet verses of everyday words."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, his eyes softening as he admired you. "I love that about you," he said, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "You always manage to see the beauty in the smallest things."

A small laugh escaped you. "Maybe it's because you remind me that even in a world filled with extraordinary magic, the simple moments are the most important."

For a long moment, the two of you just sat in comfortable silence, the warmth between you as real and palpable as the heat from the fire. Finally, Harry broke the quiet. "I've been thinking," he began, a slight quiver of hesitation in his voice, "about how much these moments mean. I mean, look at us – just two people, away from all the chaos, sharing our thoughts and dreams."

You closed your book gently and set it aside, turning to face him fully. "What's on your mind, Harry?" you asked softly, your tone inviting him to share.

He took a deep breath. "I... I sometimes worry that in all the excitement of everything happening around us, we might forget to enjoy nights like these. I want us to remember to pause, to just be together."

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "I promise, we won't. I cherish every moment we share, even the quiet ones."

Harry smiled, a tender expression lighting up his face. "I love you," he said, the words coming out as if they were the most natural thing in the world.

"Love you too," you replied, your voice soft with affection.

The conversation drifted naturally into more comfortable territory. "Tell me something," you said, tilting your head, "what's your favorite memory from when we first started dating?"

Harry's eyes grew distant for a moment as he recalled the memory. "It was that night on the astronomy tower, wasn't it? I remember we were just talking about the stars, and you told me that each one was a story waiting to be told. I knew right then that there was something truly magical about you. I couldn't help but fall for your passion for even the smallest details."

You smiled, feeling a blush warm your cheeks. "I remember how nervous I was that night," you admitted. "I was so anxious about impressing you, but you made me feel like I could be myself completely. It was as if the whole universe was aligning just for us."

Harry's gaze deepened. "I still feel that way, even now," he said, his voice earnest. "Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of all the reasons I fell in love with you. It's not just the moments of adventure or the battles we've faced. It's the quiet moments, like this, that tell me our love is real."

A comfortable pause settled over the two of you, filled with unspoken understanding and shared memories. The fire flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls as if joining in on your whispered conversation.

After a while, you picked your book back up, but Harry's attention was fixed on you. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, a playful note in his tone.

You closed the book with a soft thud and looked up, smiling. "I was thinking about how every time you look at me, it feels like I'm the only person in the room. It's like your eyes have this magic of their own, making everything else fade away."

Harry grinned, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. "Well, if that's the case, then you must be the most enchanting book I've ever read," he teased gently. "Every word, every page, pulls me in deeper."

You laughed softly at his remark. "You always know how to make me blush, Harry. But truly, I'm glad you're here. These quiet nights are just as important as any adventure."

"Do you remember the time we got lost in the library?" Harry asked, leaning back as if reminiscing. "We wandered around for hours, and you insisted we found the perfect spot to get lost in a conversation."

"I do," you said, laughing lightly. "I remember how you kept quoting every spell you could think of, just to make me laugh. And even though we were late for our next class, I wouldn't have traded that moment for anything."

Harry's expression turned thoughtful. "Those little detours made all the difference. They taught me that sometimes the best parts of our lives aren't planned at all. They're the moments we stumble upon, when we least expect them."

The conversation flowed easily, each word a testament to the bond you had built over time. "Do you ever worry," you asked softly, "that one day, when everything else is so uncertain, we might forget what brought us together?"

Harry reached out, his hand warm in yours. "Not for a second," he replied firmly. "Our love isn't just about the big events or the battles we fight. It's about the everyday choices we make – choosing to care, choosing to share, and choosing to be here, right now."

The gentle sincerity of his words made your heart swell. "You're right," you whispered. "It's in the little things, like holding hands during a quiet night in the common room, that I feel our love grow stronger."

Harry's eyes sparkled in the firelight. "Then let's promise to never stop cherishing these moments," he said. "No matter how busy life gets or how many challenges we face, we'll always come back to this – to us."

You squeezed his hand, your voice soft yet resolute. "I promise, Harry. I promise that no matter what comes our way, we'll always find time for our quiet moments, our date nights in the common room, and our shared laughter."

The night wore on, the conversation seamlessly weaving between past memories and future dreams. Each exchange, every shared smile, fortified the invisible thread that bound you together. The Gryffindor common room, usually filled with the clamor of students and the buzz of magical excitement, now felt like your own private sanctuary—a safe haven where the two of you could be unapologetically yourselves.

As the fire dwindled to glowing embers, Harry's voice broke the comfortable silence once more. "I love you," he said, his tone filled with quiet conviction.

You rested your head on his shoulder, letting the warmth of the moment envelop you. "I love you too, Harry," you murmured. "And I'm so grateful for every second we share."

Outside, the castle slept, oblivious to the gentle declarations of love echoing softly in the common room,a reminder that sometimes, the greatest magic lies in the simplest moments spent together.

[postcardsfromheapside]

This is a great post which shows how fans can complain about a "new" thing in Veilguard which actually had precedent in prior games. Which is correct, and good, and there have been many excellent and informed posts in this vein, because so many of you have been making complaints like this because it's either been too long since you played the prior games, or you didn't pay attention, and instead of just *asking*, you got up in your feels about how VG is terrible and now other posters are having to do the heavy lore lifting for you.

I'm begging you.

Stop being "originalists." Things don't have to have appeared in prior games or books in order to be valid in sequels.

Sometimes "universes" introduce new things you never saw in prior iterations of the 'verse. Star Wars is an excellent example of this.

I know Dragon Age has a "big guiding binder" that it works off of, but it is literally okay if another game comes out, and you are suddenly introduced to new details that you never heard before.

Do they seem to work logically/consistently within the DA universe? (don't make bad faith arguments about it) Are there precedents for oddities? Are the new details from a society you haven't encountered before (or only briefly), so you just need to absorb it into your lore encyclopedia? If someone made declarative statements AGAINST the oddities, does that someone have a limited, or unreliable perspective?

Most importantly, remember that worlds can change. Societies and cultures shouldn't be static. Even Tolkien worked linguistic and cultural drift into his writing.

It's really disheartening to me that someone can look at Bellara using a bow, and complain about it instead of saying "wow, that's really neat!!" and imagine how and why that fits into Dalish cultures, especially northern Dalish culture (remember, we're 10 years on and in the north of Thedas, not the south, and clan culture can differ even if they inhabit a similar area of Thedas)

For all this site will say "HEADCANON ACCEPTED" about some of the most inane and ridiculous ideas I've ever seen proposed, a lot of y'all are ruthlessly stubborn about considering what's put forth by professional media creators.

[fkinkindagauche]

A Naughty Lullaby

Here's a little ficlet written in the universe of The Most Gourd-geous Pumpkin in the Patch, but can be read without reading that, it is just pure ol' smut.

Written for two prompts from @steddiebingo Twelve Days of Christmas Mini-Event - 1) Mpreg, and 2) Morning sex.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 1,545 | Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mpreg, Come Marking, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Pregnant Sex, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington

Read on AO3

“How you feeling today, love?” Eddie asked from where he had his head buried in the back of Steve’s neck. 

Eddie had been awake for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of Steve’s body spooned against his own. He’d felt Steve slowly wake up through their mating bond, a gradual increase in his sense of Steve’s presence. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to this, to feeling Steve all the time, even when he was sleeping. 

Steve groaned in answer to Eddie’s question. “I’m still pregnant.”

Eddie rubbed his hand over Steve’s swollen belly. He was eight months along now, and his belly was gigantic. To the point where he refused to believe the repeated insistence of his doctors that he wasn’t having twins. 

“Yes, it seems you are,” Eddie replied. He nipped lightly over Steve’s mating gland. “Were you able to sleep much last night?”

Steve huffed. “No. I had to get up a million times to pee. And my back hurts. Why did I want to do this again?”

Eddie hummed sympathetically. “And this one’s just the first of six,” he teased. 

Steve elbowed him in the side. “I’ve changed my mind. This is going to be an only child.”

“That’s gonna be a real spacious Winnebago, then.”

“We’ll bring the cats.” As if on cue, Amos roused himself from where he was plastered against Steve’s chest and meowed. 

“You told me Amos gets carsick,” Eddie pointed out.

“He’ll adjust.” Steve buried his face in Amos’s fur. 

“You should get some more sleep, baby,” Eddie said. “It’s still early.”

Steve seemed like he was drifting off to sleep again when he groaned, pulling his face out of Amos’s fur. “I have to pee again.” He slowly extricated himself from Eddie’s arms and shuffled over to the en suite bathroom.

Amos moved into Steve’s warm spot, pressing himself against Eddie’s chest. “He’s coming back in, like, two minutes you know?” Eddie whispered to the cat. 

“I don’t understand how I can feel like I need to pee so bad when there’s barely even anything in there,” Steve groused from the bathroom. He walked back into the bedroom, shoving Amos out of the way as he pressed himself back into Eddie’s arms. 

“The little lady’s taking up a lot of real estate down there,” Eddie said. 

“It’s fucking rude. Now I’m wide awake. Ugh.” 

It was Saturday, and neither of them had anywhere to be. Eddie still wanted to get Steve to go back to sleep for a while. He needed it.

“Want me to rub your back?” Eddie asked.

“Yes, please,” Steve sighed. 

Eddie sat up, positioning himself behind Steve. In the past few months, he’d become a master of giving Steve back rubs while Steve laid on his side. He pulled Steve’s sleep shirt up to expose his lower back. He stroked over the warm skin there, then bent to press a light kiss to the small of Steve’s back.

Eddie pressed his thumbs into the tight muscles of Steve’s lower back, massaging firmly. Steve let out a borderline pornographic moan as Eddie deepened the massage. He could feel Steve’s relief reflecting back at him through the bond. 

He kept going, alternating deep massage with light strokes, until he noticed a change in Steve’s scent. The tell-tale hints of arousal were starting to build. He laid back down on the bed behind Steve, kissing the soft skin behind his ear. 

“Need something else now, baby?” Eddie whispered against his ear. 

Steve whimpered, nodding his head. “Yes,” he whispered back, pressing his ass against Eddie’s rapidly hardening cock.

Eddie trailed a hand over Steve’s belly down to the waistband of his pajama pants. He slid his hand in, fingers grazing Steve’s hard cock to dip into the pool of slick building between his thighs. It was a lot of slick. Steve was a very horny pregnant man.

Eddie leaned his head forward to kiss Steve as he gently stroked his fingers through the mess of slick around Steve’s folds. Steve keened into the kiss, pressing his tongue deep into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie sucked on his tongue as he wrapped his thumb and forefinger around Steve’s cock. His hand slid with ease, covered in slick now.

“Does that feel good?” Eddie asked against Steve’s mouth.

“So good,” Steve gasped, rocking his hips back to grind harder against Eddie’s cock. 

Eddie dipped his fingers back down to pet idly at Steve’s entrance. “Think my mouth would feel better?” Eddie felt a gush of slick against his fingers.

“Yessss,” Steve hissed. “I love your mouth.”

Eddie pulled his hand from Steve’s pants. He sat up, pressing Steve into the bed flat on his back. He moved down the bed and pulled Steve’s pants down as he went, throwing them to the side of the room. 

He knelt between Steve’s legs and admired the sight beneath him. Steve, with his shirt rucked up over his huge belly, legs falling open to display his adorable little cock and dripping wet cunt. Eddie could look at this all day. It was art. 

“You just going to stare at it or are you gonna do something?” Steve asked petulantly. 

Eddie laughed, smacking Steve lightly on the inside of his thigh. “Alright, big boy, I’m going in.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but a smile was twitching at the corner of his mouth. Eddie laid down between Steve’s thighs, pressing his legs further open with one hand as the other spread out his folds. Eddie licked at the folds, collecting all the slick he could as Steve started to writhe beneath him. 

Steve’s hands came to Eddie’s hair. As Eddie continued to lazily lap at his folds, Steve started to tug on his hair, directing his head up to his cock. Needy boy. But now wasn’t the time to tease him. Steve needed to get off so he could get some more sleep.

“Fingers today?” Eddie asked before he took Steve’s cock into his mouth. Penetration was touch-and-go these days. There wasn’t really enough room in there anymore for Steve to be comfortable with Eddie’s cock, but sometimes fingers were still okay.

Steve nodded. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

Eddie took Steve’s cock fully into mouth as he started to trace a finger around Steve’s entrance. Steve yelped and bucked his hips up into Eddie’s mouth. His hands were still in Eddie’s hair and he was shoving Eddie’s face onto his cock as he ground up into his mouth. Eddie loved it when Steve got horny enough to be demanding like this. He loved to feel like he was being used for Steve’s pleasure. 

“Fuck, Eddie, fuck, that’s perfect,” Steve panted. Eddie dipped a finger inside, curling it up against Steve’s g-spot. Steve moaned and continued to fuck up into Eddie’s mouth. “Fucking shit I’m gonna come so fast.” 

A few moments after he said it, Eddie felt an insane amount of slick gush out over his hand as cum flooded his mouth from Steve’s cock. He pulled his finger out but continued to suck at Steve’s cock until Steve pulled him off. 

He looked up. Steve’s face was flushed, and he looked much more relaxed than he had when they’d started. 

“Want me to suck you off?” Steve asked. But he looked exhausted. Eddie shook his head, pushing his own pants down his hips to free his cock. He gathered up more of the ample slick from around Steve’s entrance and used it to start sliding a hand up and down his cock. 

“No, baby. I’m gonna come on your pretty cunt.”

Steve moaned, and his little cock twitched. Eddie was already close. Feeling Steve come through the bond always put him dangerously close to his own orgasm. The sight of Steve looking completely fucked-out beneath him also helped. 

Eddie came after only a handful of strokes, directing his cock so the cum all spilled over Steve’s cock and cunt. He half-collapsed onto the bed, holding himself up on one hand to keep from crushing Steve. 

“That was fucking hot,” Steve said, reaching a hand down and collecting some of their combined cum and slick. He raised the hand to his mouth and licked it clean. Eddie’s cock gave a valiant twitch in his hand. 

“You’re hot,” Eddie said. Once he’d caught his breath again, he buried his face back in Steve’s cunt. Steve yelped as Eddie vigorously licked up the mess he’d left. He loved the taste of his cum mixed with Steve’s slick. It was like a fucking delicacy. 

By the time he was finished, Steve’s cock was hard again. Eddie sucked it down into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he applied firm suction, and within thirty seconds Steve was shooting off into his mouth again with his thighs clamped around Eddie’s head. 

“Fucking hell,” Steve said, slowly releasing his thighs’ grip on Eddie. “You’re a menace.” 

Eddie moved back up Steve’s body, pulling the covers over them. He maneuvered Steve back onto his side, then pulled him in to spoon against his body. “Ready to go back to sleep now?” Eddie whispered against Steve’s ear.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. Eddie could feel him already dropping off to sleep through the bond. Mission accomplished.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

[in1-nutshell]

Could we get Maxima and Fearless meeting? Whether it’s in TFP verse or on the Lost Light is up to you, I think any shenanigans they could get up to would be legendary anywhere!

I need to make another writing on the specific shenanigans.

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless meets Maxima

SFW, Platonic, Slight Angst, Human and Cybertronian reader

TFP/MTMTE

Fearless was in the lab with Brainstorm.

They were testing a new portal gun when one of the portals dropped a bot.

The bot does a superhero landing before getting up and dusting herself.

The bot looks at them curiously before waving a bit.

Maxima: “Hi?” Maxima jumps at the bot’s sudden squeal of excitement. Brainstorm: “I can’t believe the portal gun worked!” Maxima looks over at the human confused. Maxima: “Portal gun? Wait, where am I? Am I in space?!” Fearless sighs a bit. Fearless: “Don’t think too hard about it. Long story short, welcome to this universe. I take it this is your first time portal jumping?” Maxima: “Not really, but… is he okay?” Maxima gestures over to Brainstorm who is happily running around the lab. Fearless: “Give him a minute, that’s just how he is. So, you got a name big bot?” Maxima smiles at them. Maxima: “Names Maxima, what about you?” Fearless: “I’m Fearless.” Maxima raises an optic: “That’s not a traditional Earth name.” Fearless: “Yeah, it’s just a nickname that’s just stuck around.” Maxima holds out her servo for Fearless to crawl on. Maxima: “I feel like we’ll get along.” Fearless smiles and jumps on the servo. Fearless: “Definitely.” Somewhere on the Lost Light… Magnus and Megatron suddenly look at each other. Megatron: “Somethings wrong…” Magnus: “Agree…” Some other place on the Lost Light… Whirl stops walking with Cyclonus and Tailgate. Cyclonus looks at the copter confused. Cyclonus: “Whirl?” Whirl: “Somethings calling me…” Tailgate: “Maybe we should get you to the medbay.” Whirl: “Nah. I’m gonna go see what Fearless is up to.”

Maxima’s fuel tanks had made such a loud and almost painful sound, Brainstorm and Fearless thought it was best if she refueled.

After a quick check up to see if this universe energon was okay to have the pair set off.

That’s when they met up with Whirl.

It was… eventful.

Brainstorm just watches in the background in horror as the three of them start agreeing and planning activities.

Maxima was the bot of the hour once Whirl and Fearless proudly introduced her.

Maxima was a bit overwhelmed with the sudden attention and the number of bots in one room.

Maxima starts chugging her energon cube. Whirl: “Sheesh! Slow down.” Maxima: “Sorry, its been a while since I’ve had a cube.” Swerve: “Ha! That’s a good one.” Fearless catches the confused look on Maxima’s face. Fearless: “…Primus are you serious?” Maxima just shrugs. Maxima: “Rations are ration Fearless. Am I right?” Swerve nods. Swerve: “Yeah ration taking and skipping wasn’t new when the war was going on.” Maxima nearly chokes on her cube. Maxima: “I’m sorry did you just say ‘when’?” Swerve: “Yeah? What your war isn’t over yet?” Maxima looks like she’s about to have a nervous breakdown. Maxima: “Why didn’t anyone tell me!?”

The commotion gets the attention of Ratchet and Drift and some more bots.

Maxima is relief to find someone close to her universes team.

She gets a bit of a crash course of the war and is still processing.

The group doesn’t miss the little flinches whenever the Matrix is mentioned.

Eventually The Co-Captains enter the picture.

Maxima stays in place staring at Megatron and Rodimus. Rodimus reaches out to shake her servo. Rodimus: “I’m Rodimus, Rodimus Prime, one of the Co-Captains of the Lost Light. This is my other Co-Captain, Megatron.” Maxima wordlessly shakes his servo before standing in front of Megatron. Both stare at each other in awkward silence. Fearless walks on the bar counter next to Maxima. Fearless: “Totally reformed, remember?” Maxima blinks a bit suddenly remembering the talk they had. Megatron slowly takes his servo out to shake her’s. Maxima slowly shakes his servo. She looks at the ex-warlord and gives a sad smile. Maxima: “My Father would be so proud of you Megatron.” Megatron: “And who might be your Father? Terminus?” Maxima shakes her helm. Maxima: “You might have known him before as Orion Pax.” Record scratch. Rodimus: “W-what?” Fearless jumping up and down. Fearless: “You’re Optimus’s kid!? I’m Megs kid!” Maxima: “Huh?! Megatron? Someone explain!” Whirl is cackling in the background.

The Lost Light was in for a long screaming and mental break process before everyone was more or less on the same page.

Maxima was made an honorary member of the ship after the portal gun had spontaneously combusted and was going to need time to fix.

She hangs out with many of the bot she is familiar with.

Yes, eventually Megatron as well.

Megatron is a bit protective of her.

Though he quickly finds out she doesn’t need it.

Does question from time to time if she isn’t actually Rodimus’s child instead of Optimus’s.

Whirl and Fearless are naturally by her side.

The three of them have only been let alone once.

…Never again…

Fearless constantly sits on her shoulder.

Maxima is by far one of the best bots to sit on due to her experience with humans.

They both hold a Q and A about dimensions and how to deal with humans.

Just wait until the ship hears her age…

At Swerve’s… Whirl: “Hey Swerve, two engex cubes and Fearless’s regular.” Maxima: “Just a regular cube for me, Swerve.” Whirl: “Oh C’mon Maxi! Loosen up.” Maxima: “Whirl, I’m not even old enough for that yet.” Swerve and Whirl: “What?” Fearless: “How old—wait—in human years, how old are you?” Maxima: “Hmm… younger than the legal drinking age.” Megatron suddenly teleporting behind them. Megatron: “You’re a youngling?!” Maxima jumps. Maxima: “Where did you come from?!”

[infiniteeight8]

‘I love you because you are love’

Maybe have it be the soul or obsession series?

I’m writing Tony & Soul in chronological order, and they aren’t at this point yet, so I’m doing this prompt in Obsession ‘Verse. Not to worry, though, there’s another request for Tony & Soul in the queue. 😀

Most of Obsession 'Verse is here. There is an additional ficlet here.

-

It’s late. Tony should be sleeping. He’s been trying, laying in bed half draped over Stephen, but sleep won’t come. Stephen has been drifting in and out, but more awake than not. He doesn’t like missing time with Tony.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Tony murmurs, “why you fixated on me.”

Stephen moves to rest a hand on Tony’s back, warm and possessive. “I spent fourteen million lifetimes with you.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, watching his hand pet Stephen’s bare chest. “But it’s not like I was the only person there. You spent fourteen million lifetimes—or at least a subset of them—with a lot of people. Hundreds. Maybe thousands, I don’t know. What made me different? Why fall for me fourteen million times and not one of them, at least for a million or two rounds?”

Stephen moves, then, shifting both of them to rest on their sides, face to face. He meets Tony’s gaze intently. “I love you because you are love,” he says. “Because you pour love into the world endlessly, like there’s a well of it inside you. It overflows from you even when you try to hold it back.” 

Tony starts to protest, because that’s hardly how anyone has ever characterized him, but Stephen reaches up and puts his fingers on Tony’s lips to stop him. “I know that’s not what people say about you. It’s not even how you think about yourself. But it’s true. You give so much to people, money and faith and love and time, and you keep doing it even when you get next to nothing back.” Tony tries to argue again, and Stephen shakes his head. “I know. Fourteen million lifetimes, Tony. I know. There is no soul in the universe as perfect as yours. And as if that wasn’t already irresistible, you are also brilliant and beautiful and you like the way I crave you, as if I’m not the greediest man in the world for consuming so much of your time.”

The dark, intent look in Stephen’s eyes sets Tony’s heart racing. He still doesn’t understand it, not really, but when Stephen looks at him like that there’s no doubting that, at least in Stephen’s world, Tony is the center of everything. He doesn’t need to understand it to believe it, and believing it is the best feeling in the world.

Tony parts his lips and presses a hot, wet kiss to Stephen’s fingers. “How about you consume some more of me?” he suggests.

With a chuckle, Stephen obliges.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Whisper's in the Studio

Chapter 4: Unspoken Truths

The days after that kiss felt like a shift in the universe, subtle but undeniable. You and Marshall had settled into a rhythm, one where your connection deepened with each passing day. It wasn’t a dramatic transformation; instead, it was like the quiet unfolding of a flower, each layer of vulnerability peeling back gently, revealing more of who you were beneath the surface.

It wasn’t just the late-night studio sessions anymore. It was the small moments—the way Marshall would call your name softly when he needed you, the way he would look over at you when he was in the middle of a verse, as if seeking your approval. And for you, it was the small shifts too—the way your heart would race when he would sit too close, the way your thoughts would scatter when he laughed at one of your jokes. There was a sweetness to your new dynamic, a tenderness that neither of you had expected.

But beneath the surface of your growing closeness, there was still an undercurrent of uncertainty. You knew Marshall better than anyone, but you still didn’t fully understand what was going on in his mind. There were times when he would retreat into himself, the old walls going up, the mask slipping back into place. It was as if, at times, the fame and the pressures of his life would claw at him, dragging him back into the person he was before—guarded, distant, defensive.

And for you, it was terrifying.

One afternoon, the studio was quieter than usual. Marshall had been working on a new track, the rhythm filling the air with its haunting beats. You were sitting at the desk, sorting through a pile of paperwork, but your attention kept drifting to him. There was something off about his energy today. His usual focused intensity was replaced with a quiet frustration, his fingers tapping restlessly against the desk. It wasn’t like him.

You watched him for a moment, wondering if you should say something, but hesitated. The space between them felt wider than it had in weeks, and you knew that there were things unsaid between the two of you. Things you needed to talk about, but hadn’t.

“Marshall,” you finally said, your voice quiet, breaking the silence. “What’s going on? You’ve been off all day.”

He looked up, his eyes momentarily startled, like he hadn’t realized you were watching him. The mask was there again, but it was thinner than before, just barely hiding the tension beneath. He opened his mouth to say something, but then paused, as though unsure how to answer. Instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Just... a lot on my mind, you know?” he muttered, his eyes falling back to the mixing board in front of him. “The album... the tour... it’s all too much sometimes.”

You could feel the distance between you growing, and it made your chest tighten. You hated seeing him like this—isolated in his own head, drowning in the weight of his world. But you weren’t sure how to reach him anymore. It had always been your job to keep him grounded, to make sure everything ran smoothly, but this was different. You weren’t just his assistant now. You had become someone who cared about him in ways you hadn’t expected, someone who was starting to wonder if he saw you as more than just the person behind the scenes.

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” you said, standing up and walking over to him. “You need a break, Marshall. You can’t keep running yourself into the ground like this.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as if he were battling with himself. Finally, he turned to face you, his expression softer than it had been in a while, but still filled with that underlying frustration.

“I don’t know how to stop,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every time I think about slowing down, I feel like everything will fall apart. Like I’ll let everyone down, you know?”

You heart clenched at his words. You had heard him talk about his pressures before, but now it felt different. It was as if the weight of his entire career, all the expectations, were starting to crush him under its enormity. And you knew, deep down, that he felt alone in it.

“You’re not alone, Marshall,” you said, your voice steady, but full of emotion. “I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

His eyes met your's then, and for the first time in a long time, you saw something raw in his gaze. Something vulnerable. It was fleeting, but it was there.

“I don’t know how to let anyone in anymore,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been burned too many times. People always expect so much, and then they leave when I can’t give them what they want.”

You felt the weight of his words settle in your chest. You knew the pain he was talking about. The loneliness that came with the fame, the constant pressure to be something for everyone else. You had seen it in his eyes for years, but now, you understood it in a way you never had before.

“You don’t have to be everything for everyone, Marshall,” you said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to carry everything by yourself. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. You don’t have to shut me out.”

For a moment, it seemed like he was about to say something, but instead, he just stared at you, the weight of his emotions hanging in the air. And then, without another word, he reached out, pulling you gently into a hug.

It wasn’t the kind of hug that was meant to fix everything, but it was enough. It was the kind of hug that said, without words, that you understood each other in ways no one else could.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly. You could feel the tension in his body, the tightness of the pain he had been carrying for so long. But there was also something else—something that made you believe, deep down, that this was exactly what they both needed.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” you whispered into his ear. “You just have to be you. And I... I love who you are. All of you.”

Marshall pulled back slightly, his face inches from yours. His eyes softened, the intensity that had been clouding them replaced with something gentler. “You really mean that?”

You nodded, your heart in her throat. “I do.”

And in that moment, something shifted between you again. No more walls, no more pretending. There was an honesty between you now, an unspoken understanding that your connection was more than just the sum of their pasts, more than just the comfort that you had found in each other.

It was real.

Marshall’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin gently. “I don’t know where this is going, but I’m not afraid anymore,” he said, his voice low but filled with certainty. “Not if it’s with you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling. “We’ll figure it out, one step at a time.”

And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like you were on the same path. Together.

[ladyrubrum]

A Little Treat

Imagine…

Going to visit Moira around lunch time while she’s working in the genetics ministry lab in Oasis.

Strolling through the university grounds with no issues given it’s become routine to pay a visit to your favorite red head to drop off treats or coffee and make sure she doesn’t work herself to death.

Entering in while she’s hunched over a microscope with plenty of notes she’ll have to stay and go over and write reports till even after the university closes.

She doesn’t turn around yet, instead responding in her usual monotone tone she gets when she’s focused.

“I’m working-“

The response only being interrupted when you place a coffee cup and a small paper bag with a warm pastry from the nearby cafe you both frequent to.

Moira looks up from the microscope, those red and blue eyes soon befalling on the peace offering next to her on the workbench. Soon after her eyes drift on over to you as the hardened look in her eyes softens a fraction.

“Hmph, I presume this is your way of saying I take a break?”

She answered rhetorically, she obviously would, not like she could just shoo you away when you’ve been practically ritualistic with how you always came to check up on her and make sure she actually ate something.

It was a charming and an annoying act she’d learned to tolerate and later on love, that in her life of logic and intellectual pursuits, she’d come to find an emotional indulgence in your mere presence alone. And it was intoxicating, like a forbidden ichor she couldn’t get enough of, all from the simplest of acts that you did.

Moira would spend her lunch break with you, going over her work of the day. Asking for your opinions or input all while enjoying the treats of nice coffee and pastry, but the most delicious treat was having you in her workplace, that only she was having the fine privilege of you spending time with her.

Her sat on her desk chair while you sat on the edge of the desk so casually as you sipped on your own drink and munched your own snack. Occasionally talking or responding between bites or sips, even if you aren’t versed in anything scientific, she still likes listening to your responses to her work. Both the negatives and positives, Moira just liked getting a taste of how your brain worked.

At some point she has to get back to work. She knew you too had to get on with your day, and while a part of her wouldn’t mind having you in the lab (you’d make the perfect eye candy for her sore eyes) she knew your presence alone distracted her from finishing her work.

But as her eyes drift over towards you, she can’t help reach a hand up to casually brush some crumbs off your cheek and fix some out of place hair. She suddenly grabs your chin, tilting your head up for her to look directly down at you. She leaned down just a bit enough to press a light peck to your forehead.

“Thank you for the treats, coinín.”

She simply responded, enjoying the reaction on your face. Even if her exterior was practically apathetic or the pure definition of cold. She still would allow you to be the only weakness she allowed herself, a small treat, an indulgence, all for herself.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

🤠🫶:

I am CACKLING like a cartoon villain oh my GOD you are a genius!!! Of course the toxic king breaks his back of COURSE he does the fucking idiot (affectionate), so there's fuck-all he can do with reader's big announcement that this was all worth it and he can totally get some...yknow, in a couple months. AHHHHH. And she just wanted to give him something to look forward to, motivation for the physical therapy <33 (she boops his nose while he lays there wishing for death and cowering from her, of course she does, omg. i love them your honor!!)

and maybe she gets more confident now that he can't fucking move 💀💀 (lmao, oh god. König if you weren't such a menace this would have been easier for her a lot earlier and nobody would be in this situation) and maybe this leads to way more sensual  touching from her on her own initiative; she's curious, after all, and she does like him a lot and she's just trying to help him get better, you know? and König eats that shit up, starts telling her all about these itches and sore muscles he can't reach, could she be a dear (trying to act like he's not literally begging for her touch) and then he basically blacks out the first time her hands linger and drift, but probably better that than the things he was going to say to her. So König wants to die, this is too much, he's done, he's a goner each time she visits him. and damn her, she's a devoted little thing, never misses visiting hours. Always so sweet and caring towards him and it's the perfect image of a faithful, doting housewife without the wife or the house or the sex part of it lmao. And of course he can’t move when all this is happening!!! so basically just more torture and his mind just kind of breaks into little tiny pieces held together by demented lovesick lust-filled fantasies. he says some absolutely filthy things (makes the cunt licking look family friendly in comparison), he can't control it really anymore, and poor reader is shocked/horrified and blushing furiously, but thinks it's the medications and the pain and whatnot, tries to be understanding, only chides him once she gets her shock under control (and he's actually stone cold sober the entire fucking time lmao, but he ain't telling her that, she'd run if she knew). 

AND THEN MAYBE~~ (dun dun dun) one day reader is FINALLY reaching under the stupid hospital bed blanket - he can feel her soft little fingertips and carefully manicured nails travel down his abs, trace the V of his hips (my man is going to black out again, good lord) and she's looking at him with big round eyes and she's nervous she's going to do it wrong and he won't like it (as if), and it's taking FOREVER for her to get her hand between his legs bc sweet little thing just wants to do it right, and he's out of his mind, half-crying, whisper-begging at this point (it's probably not even English, not German either, just mindless pleas). Her hand FINALLY wraps around his length and he's lucky he doesn't cum right then and there; she's blushing so violently at taking a man in her hands for the first time and she's seeking HIS approval with those pretty doe eyes as she bites her lip. So of course that's when there's a knock at the door (the universe hates him, he's going to scream, whoever this is is lucky he can't move and they might die anyway from the blast radius of sheer rage) and a doctor comes in for daily rounds. Reader barely has time to yank her hand back before doc sticks his head through the privacy curtains and yep our man's heart might actually just stop, he is just going to keel over right then and there. 

so not even a handjob for our poor king <3 if he doesn’t die (lol) he transfers to in-home care IMMEDIATELY and finally gets reader to himself in a more private setting where he can lock the fucking door. this is the part where I look away lmao, I'd leave him blue-balled & suffering forever ...am i a mean person?? also RIP to that doctor. this verse is so hilarious & wonderful and i love it, feels like a tug of war between tropes and genres if that makes sense which results in your delightful genius works, thank you thank you <333

This is so beautiful. I am puddle & I can't thank you enough for collaborating & I LOVE YOU Howdy anon 💋 and um, I think I got a little too excited about their first time lol oops (I can't leave him blue-balled forever! Poor man would die of heart failure 🥺)

(Tamara and Demon (1864), Mihály von Zichy)

Word count: 3.7 k

CW: 18+ NSFW. Corruption kink goes brrrr. Masturbating, dirty talking, obsessive/yandere König. Awkward handjob. First time/virgin!reader. Kinda sweet and fluffy 🩷 Also coersion/mildly dubious consent, tread carefully!

A/N: You can find the story of König x virgin!reader and their relationship so far by following the tag (könig x virgin reader)

Oh she visits him alright!

She’s much braver now that König is bedridden and can’t move. They actually spend more time together after the weightlifting accident. The intense stares haven’t gone anywhere, he's actually gotten worse in that department, but otherwise, König is behaving quite nicely.

He seems to like it when she reads to him next to his bed, which is immensely cute in her opinion. Armed with a new book in the crook of her arm, she’s on her way to visit him again for another session.

She's already accustomed to simply floating in after giving his door a light rap. She's also gotten used to the sight of guns and knives and the smell of army storage, even the manly, pungent stench of sweat that lingers on top of it. 

But it’s not the potpourri of masculine military scents that stop her at the door and nearly make her drop her book.

The King himself is lying naked on the bed – well, naked except for the bag of a mask he seems to hold on to like it’s his soul. This time, she doesn’t even see it: her eyes fly straight to the towering erection he’s stroking, urgently with one hand while the other cups a pair of shaved, pale balls.

"König…?" 

The man who calls himself King curses – in German or in English, she can’t tell. The sight of him there, caught red-handed on touching himself, only makes her feel sorry for him. König has nowhere to run and hide, nothing to cover himself with, he's not supposed to even move yet. And he is not the one who should be embarrassed, after all, she's the one who barged in on his privacy. 

Although… König doesn't look embarrassed. 

He only looks drunk and sweaty and in need.

She thinks about turning back and leaving him with hurried excuses because what the hell is she supposed to do…? Read him a book? He is still gripping his cock like it’s a sword or something, breathing like he just ran a marathon. 

And speaking of swords, that weapon is far too big for her... Hell, she doesn’t know much about swords but she would deem that sword far too big for any woman.

If she were clever, she would run away from that stare and that huge, monstrous cock. But she’s not that clever, that much is clear because everyone she’s told she’s dating König have warned her about him. Every cell in her body is warning her of danger, but she keeps running back to him, over and over again…

Well, at least he can’t move, she thinks, takes a hesitant step, and places the book down on a table. Just when she’s about to whisper some calming, soothing words to this beast, the beast speaks.

"Take your clothes off," comes a husky command from the bed, and she freezes with her fingertips still on the cover of her cute little book about German fairytales (she knows König likes his fairytales bloody). 

Normally, she would make a scene out of such audacity. She might even storm out of the room and vow to never speak to him again for daring to talk to her like that.

But… 

He looks so desperate. König looks like a giant bound for torture on that bed. And he's not the only one who has been tormented these past few weeks… The incident at the hospital has plagued her dreams every night as she has tucked herself in with the memories of König's… sword.

Perhaps it would help with his pain if she offers him relief in his time of need. No harm can come from that, surely. She doesn't know how exactly taking her clothes off will help, but if that is his wish, then it’s the least she can do. 

To her and his surprise, her hands drift to the hem of the top she’s wearing. She’s feeling rather wild – something about seeing König completely naked yet unable to move is making her act like this. Like she's the brave one. Like she’s in control now.

Dedicated to her task, she pulls the shirt over her head.

Nothing moves on that bed for a good long while. As far as she can tell, König might've stopped breathing. But by the time she takes her bra off, there’s a swallow under that hood. Then the hand slowly starts to stroke again, the moist, slick sounds continue as her breasts fall free from their confinement. 

She’s breathing heavily too, and the man on the bed is stiff as a stone: every single muscle in his body is pulled taut as he stares at her breasts like they’re the Revelation of John. Then those blue eyes lift to her face just before another command is issued.

"Take off the rest."

"The–the rest…?"

"I just want to watch you." 

His voice is hoarse and croaky, and she feels even more sorry for him – König must be in so much pain and she just keeps on teasing him. She started this, so perhaps it’s better just to see it through. 

What’s crazy though is that he actually moans when she gets out of her pants, socks, and finally, her underwear. The slick sounds of fapping increase, and he’s moaning.

She hasn’t even touched him yet… She’s just standing there before him completely naked, heat pooling low in her belly as König continues to work himself with what looks like both pleasure and pain.

"Komm… Come here," he orders next, out of breath but surprisingly politely, and she has no other option than to approach his bed. She sits down as chastely as possible, then almost jumps back up when a steel-hard thigh brushes against hers.

"Touch it. Ja?" 

Her eyes grow as wide as they can go as she takes in the cock she has touched once before, briefly and under a hospital sheet. Now it’s right there, foreign and demanding. 

Better just to see it through, her mind tweets as her hand reaches out through what feels like water. Like before, there's a sharp intake of air under the hood as she takes him in her hand. It’s even hotter than she remembered, and gives a tight pull the instant her fingers wrap around it. 

"Like this…?" 

"Just like that…"

Her meek little mouse peeps and multiple bats of eyelashes are like drug to him, it seems. The man is as tight as a bowstring when she starts to move her hand up and down, mimicking the motions she just saw him do. They're not as fast as his, and her grip must be way gentler, but she seems to do surprisingly well for an inexperienced virgin. The poor man looks like he’s about to faint on that bed. 

What she doesn’t expect, however, is König to touch her.

A large, warm palm sweeps across her ribs and lands on her breast, softly, as if he's concerned that he might scare her off. She's the one who's stopped breathing now… And then he rubs her, squeezes her. Gently… Reverently.

"You're soft," comes a strained sigh from the bed as she tries to keep her own grip both tight and gentle. She’s starting to get so wet she fears she will stain his sheets. Bewildered, she tries to change her position, but the palm cupping her breast seems to have bound her to the bed too. Nothing moves, except her hand and his as they explore each other. A giant and an angel...

Something hot and wet meets her hand as she strokes him – is he cumming already…? But it can't be, she has heard there’s supposed to be quite a bit of it when a man cums, and there’s only a few ample drops of clear liquid oozing out of the slit on his tip.

"Can't wait for the day I get to make you scream," he rasps, and her heart is hammering in her chest as more cum-like liquid streams from the slit of his cock, adding to the lewd, moist sounds of the handjob she’s giving him.

König doesn’t know she has never even kissed a guy… 

"We'll… we'll get there," she tries to soothe him, thanking her lucky stars this man can't move.

"I want to fuck you," he continues, sounding more and more desperate. "Good and hard… until you cry under me. Want to see if you can take it all in."

"König…"

"It’s a long cock, ja? I can make you squirt."

"König, I'm still a virgin… You can't–"

"Nh–Sorry… sorry."

His head falls back on the pillow, his muscles relax just for the tiniest moment. But if she thought he would finally leave her to it, she was wrong. The hand of a giant killer drops between her legs next. 

She’s sitting on the bed like she would sit on a side saddle, with one leg slightly bent, giving the horniest man on earth good enough access to the heat between her legs. She doesn’t stop him – she doesn’t even want to – as broad fingertips meet her pubic hair and slip between her already slick folds. 

"...Was? Pretty angel is all wet," he comments on her state of mess. Approvingly: like all his fears have suddenly disappeared. 

She has to fight the urge to roll her head back and moan as those agile fingers start to give her full, generous strokes. She almost messes up her rhythm while stroking his cock, which seems to have gotten even harder.

His fingers delve into her with more courage, they tease her tight, tender nub with excited circles. She tries not to jolt and shiver as he makes her even more slick, tries to ignore how her nipples grow hard from that burning stare alone. 

"Such a pretty girl… and so wet. You sure you don't want it?"

She thinks about it – how it would feel if he somehow was able to take her on that bed. If he pushed that cock inside her and if it would hurt or make her moan even more. Even the thought of trying to fit that inside her makes her thighs feel like pudding.

"I don’t know… You're still recovering."

"Heh… That's not a problem. You can be on top. I'll help," he offers as if it’s a gentlemanly thing to do, to help her bounce on that huge cock. 

"I–I'd rather do it the classic way."

"I'll show you classic when I get better," he promises with unconcealed greed. "I'll show you all the other ways too. We’ll do it any way you like."

She tries hard not to whimper when hearing his promise. She tries her best to pleasure the biggest cock she’s ever seen. It’s ridiculous that it’s the only cock she’s ever seen... What sort of a cruel joke was it from the universe to choose this king-sized Austrian to be her first man? 

She wonders how König would react if she told him he’s too big for her.

Would he try to change her mind? Would he have a meltdown? 

Would he cry…? 

She doubts if this man ever cries. The last time a brutal soldier like him shed tears was probably when he was a kid. But he did look like he was about to cry that one time when she booped his nose... 

And despite being a cold-blooded soldier and somewhat awkward at times, König has always been so, so delicate with her. He's tender even now, touching her with the gentlest avarice there is. But that searing stare wants to possess her, devour her, and it makes her bite her lip nearly to the point of drawing blood.

"Sit on my face?" he offers next, this time sounding so desperate it's almost pathetic. 

Sit on his face… 

What would he even do? Lick her? Try to push his tongue inside her while finishing himself?

The thought alone makes her mess up her rhythm again and causes her pussy to pulse more wetness on his fingers. She secretly hopes he would slip at least one of those fingers inside.

"Let me see your cunt," he begs. God – this giant mercenary is begging to see her poor, aching pussy. "Just… let me at least taste you–"

She can’t even reply before the hand between her legs gives a sudden twitch and stops those delicious rubs. Actually, his whole body is going rigid. 

"König…? Am I hurting you?"

"I'm–gonna cum…" 

Oh god.

Oh god ohgod-

She's not sure what gives her more of a fright: the sound that leaves her soldier boyfriend as he cums, or the bright, hot flash of liquid that shoots from the cock in her hand.

He groans like it’s torture. Long and hard, so loud that she’s sure other people can hear it in the neighboring rooms, perhaps even further than that. There’s one, two, three spurts of thick, hot liquid, after that, she loses count because it spills to coat his stomach, it runs down her hand, and she’s pumping him in a frenzy while he just keeps on moaning.

"Slow, slow down–" he tries to groan in the middle of his climax and she obeys immediately, reveling in how his cock still throbs in her hand when she finally stops moving altogether. More cum gushes out with every strong pulse, even if the eruptions are less violent. Ropes of it already cover his abs, it coats her hand with thick film – it's far more than she would ever have expected, and a shiver goes through her as she imagines what it must feel like to take all of that semen inside her… 

"Ah… Das war wirklich…" König sighs dreamily while she must be looking like a startled deer.

Yes, that was really something… She doesn’t know what to do with his cock, or her hand, or the mess that coats half his body.

Luckily, he instructs her to take his old shirt from the floor and clean herself with it. She cleans him with it too, dabs the black t-shirt over his muscled stomach, even tries to swipe his crotch with it as gently as she can. 

König looks happier by the minute, looks at her like she’s an angel or something, and when she fully commits herself to getting him cleaned up, he gets another erection. She’s quite horrified – how is this even possible…? She thought men would need at least hours to get it back up again.

"Come on top," he offers, sounding all but seductive with that commanding tone. 

She swallows, thinking if König wants to be a "gentleman" and finish her too. With his tongue... or something else.

"Just for a hug? We don't have to put it in."

She seems to be under some spell tonight, because she simply drops the poor, cum-stained shirt back on the floor and crawls to the bed and on top of him.

König is hot and lean as she presses herself against him, her thighs now straddling the intimidating thing between his legs. Her head falls right beside his mask-covered face, and the smell of guns and fuel and sweat is prominent there, as is his natural odor, the woodland musk she has grown so fond of.

"There we go," his arms go around her waist, pressing her tighter against him. There’s no escape now, she thinks, but like always with König, she eventually softens and relaxes, molds against him… Accepts her fate.

"You did well, Meine Liebe," he even caresses her head as she slowly melts into his hold. "I’m sorry if I frightened you. Will you forgive me?"

"Um, of course."

"A gentleman should always apologize if he has upset his lady. Do you agree?"

"Uh… Yes."

"I promise to be a good man. The best man you could ever hope for."

She bites her lip as König continues to caress her. She’s far from upset, but she doesn’t want to tell him that and excite him too much. Otherwise he might end up hurting himself. He hugs her tight, and seems to have calmed down more than ever.

Is this what an orgasm does to a man...? The change is drastic, and her lover feels warm, and tender, and inviting. He even whispers more promises on her skin. They're nonsensical but gentle, König is probably trying to be romantic, but she can feel how his breaths grow heavier as time goes on. After all, they're both naked, pressed tightly together, closer than ever before, and he's having an erection again...

She tries not to shiver at the things he tells her. The husky promises of love and protection: "You are mine now, ja? Don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you. I will always keep you safe." And then, "You’re still wet, mein Mädchen… How about we practice just a little bit? We'll do it slow. Ja? I will make you moan…"

He coos those things in her ear while holding her in place for his cock. She starts to move on her own accord; it’s like her hips have their own will. Soon, her entrance meets the tip of him, still hot and bulged, and she starts to grind against it with barely restrained greed. She is wet – wetter than ever. 

König curses multiple times under his breath, and she feels so, so filthy for loving how unhinged he is, how unhinged she is – spread wide on top of him like that, trying to get off of the faintest touch of his cock. She’s so soaked that the hot tip of him glides across her folds with no effort at all. 

She feels like she’s doing something forbidden, taking her pleasure from him like that, but König doesn’t seem to know what the word filthy even means. He keeps praising her, guiding her, helping her, telling her how good she feels, that she’s doing so, so well.

Soon, he’s asking to put it in – just the tip. 

She tries her best not to sound too needy as she breathes a soft, mousy "Yes."

"How does that feel?"

He’s panting, few inches of thick cock inside her, and she thinks, did she just lose her virginity? Is this it? Why isn’t it hurting?

“You like that, hmm?”

He feels so, so good, pressing her against him, spreading her legs with his own, trying to feed more of that marvelous thickness inside. It doesn’t hurt, at least not yet. It makes her dizzy to even think what she must be looking like, with her legs spread and a huge cock partly inside her.

She should say something… What was it that he asked? Oh yes, if she likes it. She more than just likes it, and tries to push herself down to get more of him in. König reacts immediately with a ton of praise leveled at her in the softest possible way.

“That's it, that's it, pretty girl, take it in…”

Him cheering her on like that only makes her decide that it’s time to let go and let go for good. But she can’t get him in by herself, not while he’s holding her a prisoner like this.

"More… König, please," she hears herself whimper. 

God, is this all it took...? Him holding her close and letting her find the joys of sex herself? Apparently so, because he sounds goddamn smug when he turns his head to rasp more needy, throaty things in her ear.

"Ah… Knew you'd beg for it… "

His voice makes her inner walls clamp down on him, and that’s when it hurts, but only slightly. She wants him so much that it’s painful. And König… God, he keeps on showering her with praises and promises.

"I'll show you how good it can be… That's it, let me hear you. It's a good cock, ja? Good cock for a pretty girl…"

It’s not even fully in before he starts the thrusts. That’s when she knows she has lost her virginity. She’s being plunged. Not taken… Just… loved, thoroughly and deeply. 

When she moans, finally sounds as filthy as can be, he tells her how tight she is. How good she feels. He says he’s going to cum again soon. But not before her…

He doesn’t need to instruct her to rub her clit on his pelvis in rhythm with the thrusts. She is smart enough to do that by herself. And the thoughts of This is it, I’m not a virgin anymore have turned into Is it possible to cum on your first time…?

Everything’s perfect, all things considered. But there’s something missing.

"König," she swallows arduously. "I’ve never been kissed... Would you– Could you…?"

He stops moving, releases his hold a little. A strong heart is hammering inside his chest, she can feel it against her own fluttering heartbeat. 

Is it stupid of her to ask…? Will he only laugh at her for being so sentimental?

Apparently no, because it’s the warmest possible command that surrounds her this time.

"Lift the mask, angel."

By the time their lips meet, both hesitant and needy, he's fully inside her and holding her like a mountain. She feels like she's in a fairytale now: the only thing that moves is his mouth, and hers. Theirs is a slow, hungry rhythm. 

Her first kiss is not only awkwardly romantic and sweet, it’s sinfully good. 

The kiss also does things she did not expect. Her pussy goes tight around him, so tight that a whimper or two escape her nose, and König only purrs – she feels like the softest little creature in the embrace of a lean jaguar.

And she thinks… 

Why on earth didn't they do this months ago?

[ramblingoak]

Napping in the Clouds

~ A special edition of Naps With Copia ~

This is for @megachaoticstupid who wanted a nap in my Steampunk Verse between little Copia and his big brother Secondo 💙

Huge thanks to @tasty-ribz for the art and to @ghuleh-recs for my steampunk dividers!

This technically takes place after Building A Family but it can be read on its own. There are also two other fics in this universe: Capitano Copia and Clockwork Friends.

Warnings: angst pertaining to Copia's time in an orphanage and Secondo's feelings towards his family otherwise it is very soft and fluffy, sfw, 2,600 words

They were running out of clocks.

Secondo brushed the toe of his boot against some of the debris on the floor.  The delicate metal parts scraped against the polished wood and he winced briefly at the scratch left behind.  Not that it mattered, Emeritus Manor had countless rooms that hadn’t seen a soul in years.  No one would care about the condition of the floor in some dusty study.  Secondo couldn’t even remember if he’d been in this room before.  Copia however had clearly been busy exploring.

Busy doing other things too.

“He’s up to three rats now.”  Alpha’s voice preceded him as he appeared out of the shadow in the doorway.  “And some toys.”

“Aren’t the rats toys?”

“No.”  Secondo turned with a raised eyebrow at the sharp quality of the ghoul’s voice.  To his credit, Alpha lowered his head briefly in apology before looking back up with a smirk on his face.  The red eyes of the demon glowed with mischief as he answered.  “They’re not toys at all.”

Copia was singing when he finally tracked him down.

He had a strong voice for his age.  Strong and bright Italian words drifted down the hallway and Secondo felt such an intense moment of something that he had to pause before he turned the corner to confront the boy.  Music hadn’t traveled the corridors of the manor for a long time.  Not since Terzo had decided he’d rather spend his time in the sky.

Or, as was the case lately, in prison.

Secondo turned the corner to find Copia hunched over something in the middle of the hall.  Parts and tools were spread out around him as well as what he assumed were the little clockwork rats Alpha had watched him build.  He was content to stay back and listen to his song but one of the rats twitched and turned his way.  Copia instantly quieted down, his head snapping back and his eyes widening as soon as he saw Secondo.

“I’m sorry!  I’ll put it back together!”

Copia stumbled onto his feet, grabbing an armful of parts and quickly going over to the quiet clock.  The rats were right at his heels save one.  This one went right for Secondo, pausing at his boots and gazing up at him.  There was a blue glow right below its chest, bright enough to illuminate the little creature’s eyes.  It was something that had Secondo holding his breath, memories of his own childhood here springing to his mind.

Memories of what he used to be able to build.

“What’s his name?”  His little brother turned his way, a small screwdriver clamped between his teeth.  Secondo crouched down slowly, not wanting to scare the rat away.  “Your friend, does he have a name?”

“Brizio.”  Copia timidly walked his way, the other two rats never straying far.  Only one of them had the same glow as the one Secondo was studying.  “I named him after a friend.”

“Friends are important, where is this friend now?”

“I-I’m not sure?  He was at the orphanage with me and got adopted…”  He dropped to his knees and reached a finger out to gently touch the rat’s back.  “I miss him.”

Secondo stayed silent as he watched the boy fidget, his little fingers tapping along his knees.  He could see a bit of himself in the boy’s features, the eyes being the most obvious thing.  The Emeritus family having had the white eye for generations at this point.  Nihil always claimed it was a gift but most of his sons at some point had considered it a curse.  Primo had hated it enough to replace it with one of his “enhancements”.

A tiny hand on his knee pulled Secondo from his thoughts.  Copia was looking up at him, his eyes wide and his face unsure.  

“It’s ok to miss friends and loved ones.”  He bit his lip for a moment, a memory from his own life here as a child coming forward in his mind.  “I used to have a pet rabbit, she was a gift from my mother.”

“What was her name?”

“Snowbell.  Because of her fur.  All white, beautiful and soft.”  He couldn’t help but smile softly, thinking of that first day he met Snowbell.  When his mother brought her into his room in her arms.  It was one of the last times he saw his mother healthy, before everything in his life changed.  He was so lost in his memories that he missed Copia saying something.  “What was that fratellino?” 

“Fratellino?”  Secondo found himself staring into a familiar set of eyes.  They shimmered in the gas lamps in the hallway, unshed tears threatening to drop.  “Are you…you’re one of my brothers?”

“Si, I am Secondo.”  He smiled when Copia reached a small hand up and Secondo gamely shook it.  “Primo is here as well, although he is rarely seen.  He likes to spend his time in his lab.”

“Do you have a lab?”

Secondo placed a hand on the floor to brace himself and then moved to sit cross legged.  Copia stayed close, his hand never leaving Secondo’s leg, almost like he was afraid that if he let go he’d lose the older brother he just found.

“I do, although I don’t use it as much anymore.  My study is where I spend most of my time, usually reading or designing things.”  Copia cocked his head and guessing the question he was about to ask Secondo continued,  “Designing things for my airship.”

“You have an airship?!”

The sheer joy on Copia’s face was infectious and he couldn’t help but match it,  “I do!  Secular Haze is her name.  She’s the fastest ship in the skies.”  Secondo made a show of looking around to see if they were alone,  “But don’t tell your brother Terzo that, ok?”

“Is Terzo here too?”

Secondo winced and gave a slight shake of his head,  “Unfortunately Terzo has landed himself in prison.”  Copia’s eyes widened comically, but he moved his head closer when Secondo leaned in.  “Piracy.”

“Wow!”

Of course to a child that was exciting and Secondo tried not to let his face fall and ruin the mood.  But Copia didn’t know what it was like dealing with the worry of how long Terzo would be gone this time.  About what sort of damage his ship Mummy Dust had taken.  Mostly though he was worried about what the city would find in the airship.

And what that would mean for the whole family.

He cleared his throat, taking a quick look around the hallway before leaning in close to Copia once more,  “I have an idea.”

“We ride around in your airship!”

“We will fratellino, I promise you that.”  Copia beamed up at him, following Secondo and standing up as well.  “But first we should clean this up, find something to eat and then maybe have a little tour of the manor, yeah?”

“Oh, yes!  Per favore!  Alpha showed me around a little but Papa Nihil caught us and made him take me back to my room.”

“Nihil is a dickhead.”  Copia’s little gasp had Secondo chuckling and he knelt down before the boy, his hands resting on his tiny shoulders.  “I will show you all the secret passageways, all the hiding spots.  I will show you how your brothers and I avoided him when we were your age.”  He stood up again, winking when he held out a hand for Copia.  “We still use them even now.”

He squeezed Copia’s hand when the boy reached out and then led him over to the silent grandfather clock.  Without direction Copia knelt down and began to put the old thing back together, his fingers quick and precise.  The little rats whirred at his feet, Brizio even picking up small gears and bringing them over to the boy right as he needed them.  Secondo chimed in whenever Copia held up something with a questioning look, helping the boy find where the part belonged.

When Secondo saw Copia’s triumphant grin as the clock came to life and a series of chimes rang out in the hallway he knew then and there that the boy was where he belonged as well.

From that day on Copia, and his rats, were rarely away from Secondo’s side.

Alpha and a few of the other ghouls had cleared out a space in Secondo’s study for the boy.  An area where he could work on whatever he desired, where he could build whatever he wanted, and Secondo was there to watch.  To lend a hand whenever Copia needed it.  It was amazing to witness the ease in which his fratellino could create things.  Amazing to see the familiar blue glow in each creation.  It was a special kind of magic the world didn’t see much of these days.

Secondo took a sip of his drink and continued to stare into the fireplace.  His study was quiet today save the crackling of the fire.  It was strange how fast he had gotten used to Copia’s chattering, to the sounds of the boy working as well as the sounds of his rats running about.  Copia loved to sing as well and Secondo found it hard not to join in when he did.  They made him ache for a home he had barely known but one he hoped to build here for himself and Copia.

Perhaps for Primo and Terzo as well if they wanted.

His ghouls had taken Copia out to see Secular Haze, something that the boy had been begging to do ever since he found out she existed.  He had also begged Secondo to come with but he couldn’t bring himself to go.  It had been so long since he had seen her, since he had last sailed through the skies on her, that the guilt for leaving her dormant was too heavy.  

He wasn’t even sure he could sail her again.  Wasn’t even sure if she’d let him.

“Papa?”  Secondo startled at the old honorific from Alpha, a title no one had bothered to use for years.  “We’re back.  Copia is in his room, he wanted to see you but he was asleep on his feet.”

“What did he think of her?”

“He was amazed, running around to study every part of her.  Asked a million questions.”

“I’m sure he did, I’ll have to dig out her plans so he can look at those.”  

Alpha stepped into his line of sight, the tall ghoul moving close to the fire and staring right into it.  He was far too close to the fire than most could handle but each ghoul had a specific element they called their own and fire was as natural to Alpha as breathing.  There was a tenseness to the ghoul’s shoulders, like he was debating whether or not to say something.  When he finally turned around Secondo set his glass down and crossed his arms.

“Is there something else?”

“Some of those questions were about you.”  Secondo shrugged, not really surprised at that.  The boy always had lots of questions for him.  Recently he had been mostly focused on the story Secondo told him of his rabbit, Snowbell.  “About what you were like at his age.”

“Too smart for my own good and desperate for someone to notice.”  

He froze after the words left his mouth, surprised he had said something so personal.  Although it didn’t really matter, Alpha had been there when he was young and angry at everyone.  Lost in the Emeritus Manor without another Emeritus in sight.  Nihil annoyed that Secondo even existed and Primo gone all the time for whatever reason.  

“I told him you were lonely.”

Secondo couldn’t shake Alpha’s comment.

The old ghoul was right, he was lonely.  It was just an odd thing to think about considering he’d felt that way most of his life.  While Primo had eventually warmed up to him, and Terzo had moved into the manor not long after Secondo did, they never truly felt like brothers.  Each was different enough in their attitudes and abilities that it had been hard to bond. 

It didn’t help that Nihil always tried to make things a contest between the three of them.  Who could develop something better, who could build something faster, who could propel the family further?  Those were the things Nihil cared about and if one of them failed at any of those aspects, or anything else, he was quick to lose interest and ignore them.  That in turn made the brothers quick to ignore each other, something that was easy to do in such a big house.

He got up to throw a few more logs into the fire, easing back into his chair as the loud popping sounds from the wood filled the room.  It was funny how quickly he had gotten used to Copia being in here because it already felt strange not to hear him tinkering away at something.  Ever since he had visited the airship he had been spending more time in his room.  Alpha said he was fine, just busy working on something.  The ghoul wouldn’t elaborate any further and when Secondo had finally decided to go to the boy himself Copia refused to even open the door.

Perhaps Copia had already grown tired of him.  The thought hurt and Secondo quickly took a swig of his whisky, wanting to bury that idea as deep as he could before it started to hurt worse.

“Fratello?”  Copia’s little voice had Secondo coughing mid swallow, the whisky burning his throat when it went down the wrong way.  He leaned forward with his arms on his legs, trying to catch his breath.  A small hand started to pat his back, the boy’s voice frantic when Secondo continued to cough.  “Are you ok?  Should I get Alpha?  Please don–”

“I’m ok, I’m ok.”  Secondo turned and placed a hand on top of Copia’s head, lightly ruffling his light brown hair.  “You just startled me, that's all.”  

He turned and set his glass down on the nearby table before looking at Copia again.  The boy had something in his arms, an object made of gold metal with a familiar blue glow shining bright in its chest.  At first Secondo thought it was Brizio but when he looked closer he realized the ears were much longer than what he was used to.  The body shape was different too.  Secondo straightened up in his chair abruptly, his eyes widening when he realized what it looked like.

“I made you something.”

It felt good to be in the sky again.

It felt good to have his ship under his feet, his ghouls at his side and the Secular Haze racing through the clouds.  This is where he belonged, the sky had always felt more like home than the ground.  The hum of his ship resonated through his bones and he didn’t realize how much he had missed it until now.  This partnership between him and the machine he had built.

The body next to him shifted and he looked down at a familiar mop of brown hair, his fratellino fast asleep at his side.  A small fist was latched onto his shirt, machine grease tucked under his nails like always.  Nearby Secondo could hear the familiar sound of small metal feet running about, the gentle whir of Copia’s creations ever present.  

When he looked over he met the gaze of one such creation Copia had made for him.  A gift that Secondo would cherish always, just like he planned to always cherish the small boy who made it.  Snowbell’s ears clicked as they moved around, the mechanical rabbit rearing up onto its hind legs when two of Copia’s rats ran by.  It soon dropped back down onto its feet, chasing after them around Secondo’s cabin. 

He leaned back and closed his eyes, soaking in the sounds of his ship around him.  Soaking in the warmth of being with his family, both old and new, as he began to drift off to sleep.

He didn’t feel lonely anymore.   

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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[itzoliveink]

Alright, who’s ready for another theory.

Today’s subject is:

Who is the Voyager

I originally planned to post this after 5.7 but the thought of this entire theory getting debunked kinda scared me… so the sooner the better (plus I have not posted in a hot minute minus some reblogs)

So, my claim on who the voyager is, is none other than the a missing aeon, Akivili the Trailblaze. No I have not lost the plot, in fact this is so genius that I began to fear myself.

Let’s start with Teyvat, our dear beloved land in which all of the beloved people of the past, present, and future live on. During the wars between the dragons and heavens, Phanes created the false sky to hide teyvat away from extraterrestrial beings out of love for humans. Many describe it as a cage or prison.

Thus Isolating Teyvat. You want to know what else is Isolated? Pegana, the home world of the Aeon, Akivili.

The Tree of Existance, a tree which birthed all of the universes planets, also reminds me of another important tree that contains all of Teyvat’s history via leylines. I could draw a line and claim that the Irminsul is a “branch” of the Imaginary Tree. Though I’m not too well versed in either topic so if anyone is interested to adopt it, take it away.

Back to why the Voyager is Akivili…

Akivili isn’t necessarily dead, they are just missing and another fellow aeon, Nous, may seem to know what happened though THEY have kept THEIR mouth shut about the whole situation. We all Know how the Voyager isn’t from teyvat, and had drifted through the cosmos for some time know before being awakened by our favorite dragon King Nibelung. She traveled all across the cosmos finding people and civilizations that were bond to fall, and could not warn them. She tried to warn Nibelung but failed thus when she returned to teyvat, she was confused as to why the dragon king was missing and his people were (mostly) gone. (Let’s all collectively boo at Phanes).

Both Akivili and the Voyager have great ties with traveling through countless galaxies. Much like the Voyager has ties with fate, the aeon has ties with Destiny. If I’m not wrong, those are fairly close concepts to each other further proving my point that they may be the same being. The Star Rail’s purpose was to connect distant galaxies together, establishing connection through those galaxies. I am unsure if Akivili THEMSELVES could directly communicate with said galaxies but I fear I’m entitled to question why create this whole express if they, a Aeon, could not just communicate with the galaxies THEMSELVES.

“Ink your being crazy, they probably are not connected” Ok fine, if they aren’t connected then at least I can confidently say that Akivili is tied to teyvat. Look at THEIR page.

Two points I can make here.

One: the Unknowable, if this is not a reference to Forbidden Knowledge, then I don’t know what is. (This one is more or less connecting Akivili to Teyvat rather than the voyager, but still note worthy)

Two: “Countless Shooting stars streak across the night sky, if your pick the right one, it will carry you wish to thousand of distant worlds.” I got sent instantly to that one dialogue sentence in Yoimiya’s second story quest of how when you wish upon a shooting star, it summons the meteors. This could also be taken as, when you wish upon something, they are bound to come true. We also know the connection between the Twins of Teyvat and shooting stars. Im just saying.

Anyway this is my theory before everything gets debunked in 5.7 or maybe (hopefully) hoyo won’t pray on my downfall and instead make me a theory genius, either way I’m throwing this out while I can. Before I bid you farewell and say thank you for reading this mess, i would like to add…All Hoyo games are connected, it’s a hoyoVERSE for a reason, and I’ve been doing everything to connect them. Akivili may be that connection I’ve been (heh) wishing for.

But hey, it’s just a theory, a HOYO THEORY…. Not funny? Im sorry.

[statisticallystoichiometric]

Symphony of the Cosmos

In the swirls of the universe, is sung a symphony of poetic verse. The tunes of stars that burn so bright, Burning balls of nuclear fusion, lighting up the night. The gentle hums of the cosmic waves, like the songs of the sirens, carry stories of a distant place, in the hums of radio and gamma rays. Woodwinds of drifting planets sing the tune to their waltz, shillouettes of celestials dance around their stars. Percussions of a harmonic phenomenon, The Big Bang, Black Holes or a Hazy Nebula, Either the nebula's lullaby of a blossoming life, or the black hole announcing the swan song of light. They echo across the silent cosmos, exotic remnants of stars that shone bright. The seraphic strings of the harp are played, by the moons of the planet's waltz, a subtle tune of joy and merry, by the satellites lighting up our nights. Hear the symphony of the cosmos, The melody of our universe.

[viaoverthemoon]

Behind Closed Doors

Thank y'all for all the votes!

Let me know if you all would like more, in which I can possibly post it in parts on here!

Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader (Medieval Universe)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Your family's kingdom is under attack and Leon's family offers protection. Everyone thinks this is your first time seeing Leon ever since your betrothal. If only they knew...

Tw: MEDIEVAL TIMELINE AND SPEECH, some characters not from the RE-verse/they will be in later parts if y'all want it, mention of battle and injury (not detailed), fluff, SMUT, but it's kinda soft, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, minor description of pain, fingering, orgasm denial(?), sorry the smut is long as hell, BUT ITS WORTH IT PROMISE, Sudden ending

18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Enjoy! <3

☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.

The nature of the Kingdom of Duevaula is certainly not what you were expecting it to be.

People spoke of the lands as though it were surrounded by fires, commoners walking around subdued by chains are constantly guarded by cruel soldiers.

Instead, healthy trees grow far and wide around the kingdom, children running in the streets laughing as older kids chase them with no malice. Soldiers patrol the area, but most of them look carefree, conversating with locals and playing with the children.

"Sister? Are you alright?"

The voice of your sister pulls you from your thoughts, eyes drifting to the 12-year-old at your side as she places a hand on yours. "Yes, Nara Vella. I'm fine."

Of course, she sees right through you. "Are you certain? I know the events that took place at home may have been-"

"Nara... That is enough. Thank you for asking, but I am fine."

Nara Vella scrunches her nose, about to say more but the carriage comes to a stop and a trumpet blares.

"We're here."

You listen as The Herald announces your parents, the king and queen of The Kingdom of Islandia, but your heart can't stop pounding.

You and your sister rise just before your carriage door opens. Since you are the first born, your name is announced first.

"Announcing the firstborn Princess of The Kingdom of Islandia, (Y/N) (L/N)."

You stop out of the carriage accepting the footman's outstretched hand. All eyes are on you as your navy-blue skirts brush against the concrete, but your eyes are on one person alone.

Your sister is announced behind you, and you step forward to the man infront of you.

You drop into a curtsy. "Your highness."

He bows deeply. "My lady."

Your eyes meet his, the light of a secret hidden in your gazes. He offers an arm, and you accept it, walking with him behind both of your parents.

Prince Leon.

You were betrothed to him at the age of 6, back when your kingdoms were butting heads, resulting in a feud, and needed a way to end the hostility between them. 13 years later, everyone thinks this is the first time you've seen each other since. But it isn't.

Leon had first sent you a private letter when you were 13 years old, requesting your presence at a hidden lake that rested in the middle of your parents' territories. Your heart had raced, excited for a new adventure in life, and you immediately rushed to meet him there.

You've been seeing each other there for years, playing in the waters, having picnics in the soft grass, feeding each other strawberries and chocolates, and reading in silence. Just enjoying each other's presence.

You shared tiny kisses at the lake a few times, but never went any farther in fear of what could happen if anyone found out you'd lost your purity.

You smile at him and lower your voice. "It's been too long since I last saw you, your highness."

He hums, placing his hand on top of yours. You both know it's only been 2 weeks, but who's counting? "Yes, my lady. Far too long. I was beginning to forget the feeling of your soft lips against mine..." He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your ear. "Perhaps, when we are alone, you could remind me?"

☆

Hours later, you and your family sit in the dining room with the Kennedys. All parents, along with Leon, had been locked away in the war room for hours, discussing ways to save the Kingdom of Islandia after it was attacked by another kingdom that sought revenge against your father, the king.

You'd all barely escaped with your lives, most being unscathed, but you, your mother, and your personal guard Jill, hadn't recovered from a couple injuries. Your sister brings up this fact during dinner.

"If it wasn't for (Y/N), I would've been walking around with one leg instead of two!" She dramatically waves her hands around as you try to shush her, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"Nara Vella! Mind yourself! We do not speak of those events at the dinner table!"

She merely giggles, whispering an apology before returning to her plate. You sigh, about to turn back to your own food, but you feel a pair of eyes on you.

You glance at Leon from across the table through your peripheral, noticing his frown.

'Are you alright?' He mouths. You smile reassuringly and nod, raising a brow and offering a teasing smile.

'Worried about me, your highness?'

He only rolls his eyes, seemingly looking at his plate but peeking up at you through his lashes. 'Always, my lady.'

☆

You sit in your chambers after dinner, trying to sew a tear in the dress you'd worn on that fateful night.

It had been washed and dried, but it suffered damage from sword and arrow grazes. And you couldn't just let it be ruined. It's one of your favorites, a gift from your mother when you finally came of age.

It held far too many memories.

A soft knock comes from your door and, suspecting it was your sister, you call to it. "Enter."

You become frustrated with the sew, accidentally pricking your finger with the needle. You curse, yanking your hand away and to your mouth.

Admittingly, the stitch is not the only thing that has you frustrated.

After the feast, you'd tried to get Leon's attention so the two of you could find a moment alone. But he was instantly pulled away by his father, who began to speak of kingly duties and war experience.

You knew that talk would take a while.

"Nara Vella, I am truly not in the mood right now. This damn stitch is going to be the death of-"

"Is this how you speak when I am not around?"

You yelp, spinning around and dropping your materials.

Leon, your betrothed, leans against your chamber doors.

He smirks at you, approaching you at a slow pace.

"How did you- I thought your father would have you occupied for a while..." You stand, wringing your hands and shifting nervously, trying not to pay any mind to his predatory gaze. He offers a teasing smirk.

"I have my ways," He steps into your space, his chest nearly touching yours, and lifts a hand. You immediately relax, nuzzling your cheek into the palm of his hand.

He hums and you sigh, relishing in the presence of one another. "You're certain? That you are not hurt?"

You sigh, placing your hand on top of his. "Yes, Leon. I really am fine."

You feel him let out an exhale, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Good. Because if anyone left lasting damage on you, I'd take the throne right now and declare-"

You smack his chest, glaring up at him. "Leon! You will not declare war on a kingdom any time soon!"

He only throws his head back and laughs, caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Alright! Relax, my lady. I only jest..." You huff a breath through your nose, staring at his deep blue eyes and wide smile.

These were the moments you truly missed.

While the both of you tried to keep visitations strictly scheduled for once a month, it was pure torture to be away from him that long.

You inhale his air, a deep, husky scent of forest mixed with wildfire.

"I have prayed and waited every night to be in your arms again. I had never known this would be the reason why..." Your other hand grasps his shirt, holding onto him so tightly one would think he might disappear.

"Dreadful circumstance or not, I finally get to see your face again..." Leon raises your chin, your eyes shifting between his eyes and his lips. "And you, finally get to remind me of your taste..."

You could swear sparks fly when your lips meet.

Hot, searing passion colliding to create a love that is hidden behind closed doors. His fingers comb through your hair, your fingernails scratch against his loose sleeve shirt.

His tongue brushes against your lips and your heart leaps, your lips instinctively opening. A gasp comes from those parted lips. Your back arches and Leon chases you, hand lowering to grip the silk material of your robes.

He parts from you all too soon, dipping his head and placing wet kisses along your neck. A moan escapes your lips and the both of you freeze, a pause filled with red hot tension.

Your nails dig into his shoulder, breaths coming out in short, quick gaps. "Perhaps-... Perhaps we should stop..."

"We should..."

And yet, no one moves.

You swallow, throat feeling tight. "If my mother-... If our families ever found out about this-"

His head leaves the crook of your neck, eyes gazing down at you with powerful determination. "They won't."

Your breathing shakes. "But- When that time comes-"

His hands grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. "They. Won't." His thumb strokes your bottom lip, blue eyes burning. "Do you trust me?"

Your answer is immediate. "Of course."

His lips twitch. "Good. Then know, that they will never know. And we will never be separated."

His confidence brings forth your own.

You know this decision is a big one. A lady handing a man her virtue is something that with bind her to him forever.

And while you hate the hold that purity has on the ways of society... You know Leon is the only man you would ever give yourself to.

Your eyes widen, a desperate gleam shining in them. "Take me, Leon."

☆

Your naked body shines in the moonlight, every curve and crevice on display for him, and him alone.

Leon stands at the foot of your bed, staring down at you with hazy, lust filled eyes.

You'd both stripped each other of their clothes in record time, a cluster of rushing hands and pitiful whines. You try not to stare at his... rather intimidating manhood, that stands tall and hard as rock. Albeit, he stares at you without shame.

His eyes rake over every inch over your body, starting at your ankles. Then moving to your legs, then your hips, your stomach, breasts, lips and finally your eyes. His bright blue oceans of eyes had turned into a deep dark sea, leaving you panting and burning.

You open your arms, reaching for him. "Well? Do not stand there and stare..." You somehow keep your voice steady, the whimper in your throat begging to be released.

He smirks, jerking himself a few times, before placing his hands on the bed and crawling toward you.

You hesitate, and then spread your legs. He settles between them, hot palms landing on your thighs and causing the skin to be set ablaze.

Your heart pounds in your ears, breathing turning heavy and legs shaking.

You're afraid. Excited! But afraid.

Many of the older ladies had said that their firsts were blissful, yet excruciatingly painful. But others said it was not as bad as it seems.

This left you with uncertainty, gooseflesh rising on your arms as you try your best to keep your emotions at bay.

But of course, Leon reads you like an open book.

He caresses the soft skin of your thighs, thumbs moving in small, calming circles. "You have nothing to fear, (Y/N)." He leans down, running his nose over your cheek. "Of course, I would never do anything to hurt you. It is never too late to stop-"

He barely gets the words out before your hands harshly grip his biceps. "No! I mean- um... I want this, Leon. More than anything." Your grip relaxes and you offer a reassuring smile.

He smiles back at you.

The heavy atmosphere returns when he leans down again, lips skimming your throat as his length nudges your sensitive ball of nerves.

You nearly jump out of your skin; a sharp gasp leaves you.

Leon feels your nervousness, and, luckily, knows just the cure.

A hand creeps down your body, getting lower... lower...

Until rough, calloused fingers slip between your folds.

A loud moan is quickly cut off by his lips.

Hopefully your guards aren't paying too close attention to your chambers...

Your knees bend, eyes clenching shut as Leon swallows all of your noises. His fingers work slow circles of pleasure into your clit, the sensation one you've never felt before.

Much like getting too close to a hot fire in the blazing cold of a harsh winter, it warms your insides and leaves your outside wanting more.

You throw your head back, the back of your fist flying to your mouth as you try to hold back the sounds your throat nearly let's burst out.

"Hah... Leon-..."

His name rolls from your tongue as a soft whisper, words stuttering off into a sharp inhale as his fingers graze over your soaking hole.

Your other hand grips the soft sheets, body giving in as he completely takes control. Your eyes lock with his.

He's deep in concentration, breathing shallow and sweat matting his blonde hair to his forehead.

Gaze lowering, you see the angry red color of his girth. It throbs, begging for attention while trying its hardest to sit still and look pretty.

"Nuh-uh. Eyes up here, princess." Your glossy eyes snap back to his, mouth slightly agape and brows pulled together. Leon smirks, pleased with your expression. "You can make that up to me later. But this moment, is for you."

His other hand gently removes your hand from your lips, soft sighs coated in ecstasy falling from them immediately.

The pressure builds as you roll your hips to meet his fingers. He slowly slides a finger into you, watching your expression as it shifts. He keeps another finger working on your nerves, so the one inside only adds to the pleasure.

You cry out when he adds a second one, now feeling a slight sense of discomfort, but still pleasure. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, mumbling praises. You're surprised by the sound of his voice, slurring slightly as if he'd indulged in a tin of ale.

"Good job, princess... Doing such a good- hngh~... Does that- feel good, my lady?"

Your body seems to like the sound of Leon, if the new wave of slick was anything to go by.

You feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten, your moans raising in volume as your back arches. You feel something coming. Not sure what it is, but your legs begin to shake. You wait in anticipation, every thought focused on the new stage of euphoria this feeling was going to bring... until Leon completely pulled away his hand.

You gasp, eyes snapping open. Your body falls limp as you catch your breath. "Wha-... Why-"

"I hope you do not mind if I become a little selfish, my lady..."

Your eyes snap to him, sitting up on your elbows and ready to reprimand him for denying you of your bliss, but your words are blown away.

Leon sits up on his knees, manhood curved upward in his hand as he strokes the length. Wet, sticky liquid leaks from the red tip, veins protruding from every angle.

Your air is taken away, leaving only enough to let out a sharp exhale.

"But... I want you coming undone only on my cock."

You eye him, switching between his eyes and his... cock, before nodding slowly. "Okay... Okay, Leon."

He leans down again, pressing wet kisses on your neck and cheeks, as his length glides between your folds. "I will not move until you're ready..." And then, he begins pushing himself inside.

Your nails dig into his shoulders with a gasp. His hand grips the pillows as he grunts. Both of you release soft noises of pain, holding onto each other as he continues to slowly enter you.

You hold back a scream when he finally bottoms out, doing your best to relax as to not hurt him anymore. You feel his soft kisses on your face as he apologizes continuously, hand roaming the skin of your waist as the other rubs circles into your clit again.

After what feels like forever, the pain slowly subsides and makes room for pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders loosens. You instead put them around his neck, digging your hands into his hair. "I'm ready, Leon... You can move-"

His hips snap against yours without warning.

You cry out, clinging to him as he begins to thrust into you at an animalistic rate. He grunts with every thrust, caging your body in as he loses himself.

"I have waited so long-. Please, please forgive me, sweet angel-"

Heavy panting and the smell of sex fills the air, the sound of skin meeting skin resounding within the room. Your moans and pleas do nothing to teeter the wild and rough movements of Leon's hips. He growls into your neck, holding your hips to keep you from getting away.

The knot is seconds away from snapping, but it feels stronger than it was before. Different even... Almost like you need to run to the pot. You feel overwhelmed, pushing at Leon's shoulders. "I can- I can't! It's too much- Ah! Leon-!"

The band snaps.

You scream, toes curling and back arching.

Your body pushes out a wave of liquid, most likely soiling your sheets. The feeling burns you inside and out, tensing all of your muscles and leaving you weak and trembling. You pant heavily, body still jerking from Leon roughly thrusting into you.

The after-bliss you'd once felt begins to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulated, you claw at his biceps in hopes of getting his attention.

He groans when he hears you whine. "Almost- Almost there-"

His thrusts get sloppy, his cock hitting somewhere so deep that it somehow prolongs the burn. You bite his collarbone to keep from screaming again.

It would seem that was his final push, as he pushes deep inside of you, releasing a low, husky groan and throwing his head back.

You watch as his entire body shudders, his grip on your hips tightening so much you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning.

A warm rush of liquid flows into you, seeming to be a never-ending flow as Leon falls limp, landing right beside you.

You'll definitely have to bribe your guards in the morning.

☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.

Whoops!

Sorry for ending it like that! If you guys want this to have more, let me know! I'll pick it up from here!

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoyed! <3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

[shamanfox]

the poet does not write—

she bleeds in metaphors

and mops it up with torn-out pages.

she chews silence like raw bark,

spits out sap that tastes like childhood,

and calls it verse.

she doesn’t sleep—she drifts.

half in this world,

half in the marrow of stars

that whisper stanzas through her ribs.

a poet walks barefoot across thought,

picking up every broken bottle of memory,

licking the glass for meaning,

naming each shard beloved.

she is not sane.

not fully.

you can’t be

and survive the weight

of feeling everything

all the time.

her body is a cathedral of echoes,

her mind—a wilderness of burning maps.

she’s never truly lost,

just unwilling to settle

on one direction.

to be a poet is to kneel

before every passing moment

as if it were God in disguise,

to weep in a grocery store aisle

because the way light hit the pears

reminded her of her grandmother’s hands.

she lives for the unbearable ache—

not because she loves pain,

but because only in breaking

can language be made holy.

she writes with bones dipped in dusk,

pulls oceans through her fingers

to ink the unbearable edge

of being alive and knowing it.

truly knowing it.

she marries the moon,

beds the void,

suckles myth and spits prophecy

into torn notebooks and lovers’ mouths.

to be a poet is to die a thousand deaths

and rise with teeth full of vowels,

to look into the eyes of a stranger

and see a sonnet aching to be born.

the poet is not special.

she is simply the one

who said yes

when the universe asked

will you feel it all for me?

and every poem since

has been her answer.

[dragonnan]

Fanfic writer interview

tagged by: @sinvulkt

Thank you so much!!

What fandoms do you write in? Primarily Sherlock, MCU, and Sandman. IF inspiration hits hard enough I may drift into other fandoms but for the last few years those have been my primary genres.

How many words have you published in 2024? 49,696 - though that isn't all fanfic as some applies to fanart as well as sometimes quoting other authors in gift art.

What is your greatest achievement this year? Honestly? Managing to get a job lol! But in fandom - nothing really in writing. However I've produced more fanart in 2024 than I created in the last 5 yearly counts.

What are your top three fics you've written this year? Given how little I wrote these are literally the ONLY fics I published/updated in 2024 lol:

🪽 Sed Diabolus (MCU Avengers): My long running WIP, this is a fix-it that simultaneously repairs the events of Endgame as well as makes things so much worse. The incredibly talented @kitcat992 gave me so many ideas and helped so much with the outline that I have given her author credit.

🪽 Sharing is Caring (Sherlock): A short story including all of my favorite elements - hurt/comfort, humor, caregiving, friendship and banter, etc.

🪽 Choice (Sherlock): I had written this story several years ago. However I hadn't liked the theme so it remained unpublished until I finally dug it out and changed up a bunch of things. The result is a cute backstory of how Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson first met.

What was your biggest pit of despair moment? They kinda all run together tbh. Writing has been next to impossible - despite having lots of ideas. Partly why I made so much fanart. Drawing is always easier than writing.

What have you learned? I learned that it's okay and even desired to return to the same story themes over and over - that if it's something I love there are also going to be readers who love the same thing.

Did you beta any fics? I did several years ago but I haven't had the time nor energy for a very long time.

What three fics have you read this year that you love? THIS IS AN EVIL QUESTION!!

Identity Within by KitCat992 (@kitcat992) 160,514 words

It’s been one year and some change since Tony planned to introduce Spider-Man to the world, and instead put a ring on the finger of the capable, qualified, trustworthy Pepper Potts. One year and some change later, and the invitations have finally gone out. Meanwhile, Peter’s never been more excited for something in his entire young life — and he and Ned once got to spend the day at NASA. Nope, Mr. Stark’s wedding easily topped that. Heck, he may be more excited for the wedding than anyone else, including the bride herself. After the crazy year they all had, it felt good to finally have something good happen. Nothing was going to mess this up, Peter would make sure of it. He just had to handle the rings. Wait, the rings. Crap, the rings! Where’d he put the rings? All he had to do was find the rings, and then everything would go off without a hitch. Absolutely nothing could go wrong with him trying to find the rings, right? This wedding was going to be perfect. (Or: Tony swears the universe is trying to keep him and Pepper from tying the knot while Peter’s having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Seriously, who let Norman Osborn into the church?) Act 1 of 5 completed. Part 3 of Identity Saga

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? by sgam76 (@sgam76) 23,052 words

John's friend is coming to dinner, and bringing a problem along. That's fine. That's what he and Sherlock do. But he didn't expect that "problem" to be an eldritch being. Or for said eldritch being to be sad, and pissy, and a little too much like Sherlock for John's comfort. Or for him to bring news of the potential end of the world. Part 9 of A Sharp, Dressed Man 'verse

at least two miracles by apocryphal (@the-apocrypha) 15,948 words

Hob is a hedgewitch. Dream is fae. And Orpheus is the best of them both. Part 11 of Cottagecore

Shout out to two ASTOUNDING comic creators who've both had me by the throat since early last year!

Wolf & Raven by Dominion_of_Dust1886 (@wolf-and-raven-dreaming)

Fan Comic originally posted on Tumblr and is still ongoing. What if Hob Gadling had saved his Stranger? Well, this is a common trope. Yet a trope so easy to contribute to. However, this fan fiction is presented in comic format and dives right into the story. Mind the tags as you dive in.

Centaur Dreamling/ Horse Girl Hob Gadling by @amielot

In which horse girl hob attempts to earn the trust of a wild and unfriendly Dream (who does not like humans one bit)

What ideas are percolating for 2025? I desperately want to get some solid progress (complete???) Sed Diabolus. I also have a story I've been developing for The Sandman and would love to start publishing fics for that fandom.

Who do you want to thank? @kitcat992 @mamahanu @mrs-n-uzumaki @estelkenobi - my beautiful chat group who I'd NEEEVER survive without!!!! Saying I Love You on repeat is a paltry expression for the absolute adoration and devotion I have for you guys. You are my people!! My feral humans!! My clan I daydream of sharing a home with whatever reality may claim (fuck reality with salad fingers!)

@sgam76 @helloliriels @sevdrag @7-percent @vanillacokefireants @teejaystumbles @totallysilvergirl @tj-dragonblade @amielot @the-apocrypha @theleftpill @ceruleanmindpalace @cuubism @englandsgray @ariaadagio @aelaer @disappearinginq @gabessquishytum @kitten-kin @barachiki @bovivinator @blogstandbygo @medhes @mid0khan @wolf-and-raven-dreaming @softest-punk @im-not-corrupted @embroiderling Some of you I've known for years - others I've recently met. ALL of you have shaped me in some way (not even necessarily for evil!). I am so honored to count many of you as good friends and others as friend-in-progress haha! I really can't wait to see what 2025 brings to the fandoms we love!

There are so so many I know I've neglected to tag. If I follow you/you follow me just know you all matter to me so incredibly much and I'm endlessly grateful to you!

tagging: @sgam76 @helloliriels @sevdrag @kitcat992 @gabessquishytum t @the-apocrypha @theleftpill @ceruleanmindpalace @cuubism @englandsgray @ariaadagio @aelaer @disappearinginq @totallysilvergirl @tj-dragonblade @amielot and all others who want to participate!