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no-phrogs-in-hats · 2 months

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Addison Montgomery x fem! Reader

Could I please have an imagine where the reader is Meredith’s childhood best friend that came to work at Seattle Grace with her. While Meredith is pining for McDreamy her best friend wants McDreamy’s wife. (Imagine all of the hilarious and awkward moments this would result in).

Hi! I couldn't figure out how to turn this into a oneshot, so I just gave you a shit ton few scenarios!!

Sitting at lunch and getting the whole McDreamy situation out of Meredith and Cristina and Izzie spilling more to you than Meredith

Standing at the nurses station with MAGIC and Addison is on the other side of the station filling out a chart

She has her glasses on.

And her white coat.

And she's wearing black heels with a nice professional dress.

Mommy.

And you can't take your eyes off of her and you lean into Meredith and ask, "Who is that?"

She responds, "McDreamy's wife."

"So, is she into the whole adultery thing too?"

Cristina chimes in, "Considering that's why they seperated, I'd say so."

You can't stop thinking about McMommy Addison for weeks

Then, you're assigned to a case with her.

You get incredibly involved with your patients

Addison admires you so much for it.

"The world needs more doctors like you," she says after a crash C-section.

You ask, "And what do I have?"

"Empathy. You don't see very many doctors who want to get to know their patients. Most of them just see them as something they can cut into."

You're on her service almost every day for the next few months.

Asking Dr. Bailey, "Can't I have another assignment?"

Her responding, "Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd asked for you specifically, take it up with her."

But you didn't want to take it up with her.

At lunch, George brings it up and you say, "Meh, I don't really mind it."

But you start blushing.

And Cristina and Meredith start teasing you.

"Oh, she's got a crush on McDreamy's wife."

"George says, You can't have a crush on her, she's married."

"So is Derek and I still slept with him."

Cristina grins, "No wonder she has you on her service every day. You're her little bitch."

You insist that it's not true.

They continue teasing you until your pager goes off.

"Aw, is it Addison?"

"Give her a kiss for us!"

They continue making kissy faces the entire time you leave.

The first time you two kiss it's after you lost an OB patient.

Both of your emotions are running high.

You're trying to calm yourself down in an on-call room

She comes in and tries to comfort you

"It'll be okay."

"How are you so calm about this?"

"Well, eventually, you learn how to cope. You'll never get used to it, but you'll learn how to cope."

You lift your head off her shoulder and look at her in the eyes

Then your eyes flicker to her lips

And hers do the same

You finally give in and press your lips to hers

She returns the kiss and suddenly both of your scrubs are on the floor

Months of longing looks and pining and private moments in the elevator, you want to make your relationship official, but you know you can't

You're both in an on-call room once again making out

You pull away quickly and stop her

"Addison we shouldn't be doing this"

"What do you mean?"

"You...Addison, you're still married. And until you file for divorce, I can't see you."

She's speechless.

You, Addison, Derek, and Meredith all end up in an elevator together.

But weeks later, she presents divorce papers to Derek

And just a week after that, she shows you the signed papers

You don't know what to say.

"You actually did it? You filed for divorce?"

"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life...but you...you're not one of them."

This is the first time she says 'I love you'.

She gets a nice hotel room for you two that night.

Meredith asks why you aren't going home with them and then it dawns on her

You see that shit eating grin

Izzie and George and Cristina start cooing at you

"Awww, you're officially Addison's bitch."

"I am not Addison's bitch!"

"You so are!

"You'd do anything for her!"

"...Okay, fine, so I'm her bitch."

And it turned out to be a very lovely night.

#addison montgomery #addison montgomery x reader #greys anatomy #wlw #greys anatomy imagine

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writers-advocate · 1 month

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sfw alphabet | l.h.

description: just some sfw headcanons for logan ♡ [requested]

cw: maybe a little angst

affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

three words: acts of service. he loves doing things for you. he especially loves being able to do things for you without you having to ask. physical touch is another big thing, that takes some getting to for sure, but when you get him there, he’ll make you feel so so loved. especially any part of you you’re insecure about

best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start)

best friend? baby, he set his sights on you and immediately knew he wanted to be more than friends. that aside, once you’re together, once you’ve “worked your magic” on him as he says, he is absolutely your best friend. shoulder to cry on, moral support, someone to listen to all the chisme from the day. he’s always there for you, even if he may seem a bit aloof

cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

he loves cuddles once you get past his fear of hurting you. it’s a struggle, it takes some patience, but when he eventually grows more comfortable, he loves when you’re both on your sides, the feeling of you curled into his chest, his arms secure around you. any position where he pretty much envelopes you, he loves

domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

sigh… he doesn’t think he’ll get the chance. but yes. yes he so badly wants to settle down once he meets you. he can’t stand when he has to be away from you for so long. he just wants to make your coffee in the morning while you pack his lunch and you take each other to work. if you even have to work

i think, at first, he doesn’t really know his way around the kitchen. very basic things he’d make on the road if he had to. but eventually, with a little practice, he makes amazing food. and we all know he’s a little messy but he does his fair share. never wants to make you lift a finger if you don’t have to

ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

if you guys are still a work in progress with him opening up, he likely tries to scare you away. he’d never hurt you, you know that, but he knows (read: thinks) he’s scary. sharp words he doesn’t mean in a voice he never uses for you. he knows how to be cruel. he will use it if he feels he has to

if you guys have been together a while, you’ve jumped through many hurdles, he likely begs you to stay away from him because he “knows” he’ll hurt you. that this is for the best, he’s no good for you. (don’t let him throw away the only good thing he’s got in his life)

fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

the first time he tries to scare you off and you just hold him instead, that’s the moment he knows you’re the one. the moment he knows he wants a ring on your finger with his name on it. the only way you might possibly get this information out of him (because he doesn’t want to give you false hope) is if he’s beyond black out drunk. or if he’s feeling particularly sappy from being comforted after a nightmare. good luck

gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

90% of the time, he’s the fuckin sweetest. but there’s just, a slight twist to every touch. he kisses you like you’re his whole world, but with an air of desperation that seems like he thinks you’ll disappear at any moment. he hugs you like you’re his most precious belonging, but every comfort item ends up a little worn (read: he squeezes pretty tight)

emotionally, he might be a little oblivious, but that doesn’t mean he can’t understand. you just need to be willing to communicate with him. even if he struggles to do the same with you

hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it and what is it like?)

refer to the above. he loves hugs. he gives the best bear hugs, enveloping you in those strong arms and squeezing you to his broad chest. as for how often? as often as you need/want. to use a cliche, he’s a walking teddy bear, and he doesn’t mind you treating him like one

i love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

he never says it. it takes so so long for you to hear those three words from him… but it is in the little things. the little touches. the little squeezes. the protective, nearly possessive behavior. he loves you. you know he does. you just need to be willing to see it rather than hear it for a while

jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they get jealous?)

baby, i think this one’s better left for the other alphabet. all jokes aside, logan’s a sweetie. we know he is despite trying to come off as otherwise. but we also know he can be a bit… primal. you’re his. his territory. his pretty little thing. what does an animal usually do to show it? mark it. marks, all over the fuckin place

on the flip side, sometimes he might get a little self conscious. in his head, you deserve better. he’ll try to pull away, but if you pull him in and kiss him in front of whoever might’ve set this off, he eases up, losing himself in you instead

kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

he will kiss you all over. he’s soft about it if he’s kissing your cheek, your forehead, your temple. he’s a tease when his lips brush along your jaw, your throat, your collarbone. but when he’s kissing you, properly, especially if he’s been away from you for too long, he kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever have the chance, leaving you breathless

bonus: morning kisses are always super soft, when you’re both still wrapped in the haze of sleep

look he loves kisses from you anywhere, but what he’ll never admit is that he feels like he might melt when you kiss his knuckles. they’re a source of pain, always have been, and he used to think they always would be. but the soft feel of your lips on the sensitive skin is like nothing else

little ones (how are they around children?)

he’s great with kids! he’s a little better with the younger ones than you’d think. it’s the innocence, the kindness. something he wants to protect more than anything. but as we’ve seen with rogue, and eventually with laura, he’s a lot better with the teens too than he thinks. they know they can come to him if they’re ever in need

morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

after a bad night, you don’t let him do anything for the first hour or so of daylight. he’s learned not to argue with you when you bring him breakfast, and why would he when you sit behind him, chest flush to his back while he eats?

if it’s been a good night, an easy night, he’ll still wake up before you (usually) but he finds you tucked into his side, one leg over his and your hand over his heart. he wishes every morning could be like this as he takes your hand and brings it up to kiss your fingers

night (how are nights spent with them?)

expect many nightmares. at least for a while. sometimes he just needs to get up and do something. keep him company. sometimes (further into the relationship) he’ll talk through the memories. just listen. and sometimes he’ll be the one laying on your chest. just hold him. just let him hear your voice, let him listen to your beating heart, and let him know you will always be here

the more fun nights, well, we’ll leave that for the other alphabet. but he does enjoy a good beer or glass of whiskey, sat in front of the tv with you happily draped across his thighs, free hand squeezing at your hip, your thigh, absentmindedly, as you whine about being sleepy

open (when will they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)

if we’re talking likes, dislikes, habits, and hobbies, he won’t hide any of that. he might even invite you along to certain things, or at least to keep him company

if we’re talking something deeper, he wants to tell you everything as soon as the first thing slips. he simply can’t. it’s too overwhelming. both for him and (he thinks) for you. some things he simply might never tell you, but trust that if it’s important, you’ll know it. eventually

patience (how easily are they angered?)

he’s got a temper on him. sue me but i’m a firm believer in the “you’re the best bet to calm him down” trope. he’ll try to push you away but it’s easy to tell when he’s calm enough to actually hear you out, and when he needs a little more time, and maybe your touch. even if you’re the one he snaps at, it’s safe to assume something else was already setting him off, you just happen to be in the line of fire. trust that he’ll always make it up to you, one way or another

quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

everything. he will remember everything. his memory may always be fragmented but you? he will remember that thing you looked at a little too long at the shops. he knows what dish to ask for on your behalf if you’re out for dinner, what to add to or remove from it. miraculously, the fridge and the pantry always have your favorites in stock. fresh flowers of your favorite kind never seem to wilt on your dresser

remember (what is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

the very first time you fell asleep on him. he doesn’t know how to explain it, so i will. something within him was so touched that you trusted him like that. it likely stemmed from his own struggles with sleep. not only that but you looked absolutely adorable. he’s still got the single picture he took of you that night tucked in his wallet. you don’t know about it

security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

incredibly protective. it doesn’t matter if he knows you can handle yourself. in his opinion, you shouldn’t have to. he won’t take any chances on losing you, anything but you

he doesn’t need protection, according to him. but if you stand up for him, defend him, maybe get a little fiery? he can’t deny that it sends warmth through his chest, and makes him want to take you home and show you just how much he appreciates you

try (how much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts)

he will act like it’s no big deal but he always, always manages to get it all just right. he doesn’t go overboard with gifts or dates. he knows just what you like and he’s not gonna go fucking it up because he wants to impress you. he knows you’ll appreciate his attention to detail more anyway. like i said before, his memory when it comes to you is absolutely infallible

ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

sounding like a broken record here but trying to protect you from himself. pushing you away any way he can, though cruel words will dissipate the further into the relationship you get, and closed off silence will replace it instead until you coax him back to you. back to comfort. back to safety

vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

he knows he looks damn good and the worst part is that he barely has to do anything to achieve it. his stupid hairstyle (firmly believe those are just cowlicks) and fashion sense just, work. it doesn’t hurt if you wanna compliment him though. he’ll preen under your shower of affection and praise

whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

yes. god… don’t break him like everyone else. please

xtra (a random headcanon for them)

if you guys couldn’t tell, i have a thing for his heightened sense of smell. you asked him once what his favorite scent was and he told you something so specific, you bought several candles in an effort to match what he described. little do you know he was describing you. you are his favorite, and all the synthetic oils and waxes in the world could never come close

yuck (what are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

we’ll go with something pretty straightforward here. if you’ve got a stupid self sacrificial streak, he will lose his mind. you can’t be scaring him like that. it’s one of the few things that will genuinely set him off on you specifically, because it’s one of the few things that truly terrify him

Zzz (what are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

for a while he had the habit of moving away from you in his sleep. the problem was (neither of you knew this of course) that it made his nightmares worse. it’s understandable why he did it, especially after the incident with rogue, but you trust him, and eventually he’d finally be able to bring himself to trust that he could hold you. when he’s finally able to sleep with you in his arms, his hands have the habit of wandering… take that as you will

#advocate writes #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett headcanon #wolverine

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elisabethdeep-blog · 4 months

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Gotta make a post about my best DunMeshi neurospicy boi

Lotta content out there about Laios' autistic traits but where o where is the Senshi rep?

Senshi's dedication to Dungeon trophic systems makes Laios' special interest look like a well-thumbed pamphlet. (Granted Senshi has had significantly longer to cook; Laios is a baby).

Senshi's limited emoting is baked-in to his character model- that thousand yard stare, most of his face occluded by his habitual helmet (masked, even...... How many folks pine for covid masks obviating the need to manage their faces constantly?)

He overheard someone mention his special interest and Walked Right Up to a Group of Strangers to brazenly asplain them a thing. Marcille makes a bridge-mending bid regarding the mosses in the scorpion hotpot (after her previous truculent outbursts) and he totally deadpans her, because he didn't even notice.

He is VERY COMMITED to his ethical position on dungeon ecology. More than once he's disrupted Marcille Right at the point of release of a spell, after she's been chanting for like a paragraph, because she's going to contravene some principle of his.

Also

Speaking of Marcille, he demonstrates some pretty rigid, black-and-white thinking around magic, that doesn't seem internally consistent. He's repeatedly reanimating magical constructs (golems), an explicitly controlled magical act, but is Very Very reluctant to submit to being charmed with WaterWalk; his spoken reasoning about this just doesn't hold water.

Oh and he's totally neglected his personal hygiene for basically ever. He's averse to cleaning up for the sake of being bespelled, but other than magic, seems fine with getting the salon treatment. This isn't a Toph Beifong 'protective layer of earth', he's just forgotten to care about not being covered with monster gore.

PDA? The fellow has one (1) social skill, namely, he exercises any discretion on opening his mouth to argue. But that holds him back exactly NONE when he decides he's done listening. The first time we see this is gathering Mandrakes, when he doesn't SAY he's done with Marcille's opinions, but he Does just go ahead and exercise his damn autonomy. a MUCH stronger example is when Chilchuck is guiding them through the trap rooms. Senshi gets roundly (and rightly!) chewed out by Chilchuck, and his response isn't the sensible 'sorry Chilchuck, maybe I could walk more directly behind you so I can more closely match your steps', but to BRAZENLY DANCE ALL OVER THE TRAP FLOOR! the only reason that doesn't kill the whole party is The Plot. It's not even that he doesn't appreciate Chilchuck's skill- he just don't like getting chastised! Same with Anne the Kelpie! Senshi's gonna do what Senshi's gonna do! He WILL not be rushed, he WILL not be chastised, he WILL not be directed! How do we think he came to be living in a dungeon all by himself in the first place!!

AND THE BREAD!

THIS IS NOT THE DEMAND OF A NEUROTYPICAL DWARF

Look there's more. After Chilchuck's impassioned and heartfelt plea, Senshi suggests they should return to the surface because they're 'low on seasoning'.

He's a dwarf who turned his adamantium shield into a cookpot.

He can meticulously maintain his mithril cooking knife but not his axe.

He responds well to other characters meeting him halfway but initiates few (no?) such bids himself. There's rarely any guile in Senshi, and when he is being shifty, he's Bad At It- and again, usually its in service of demand avoidance, like when he capitalises on Marcille's toilet break to reanimate his golems.

Senshi is the monomaniac that society has spent Decades trying to iron out of my wrinkly brain.

I hope to see him also find a place in the neurosparkly constellations.

#why no tism love for Senshi #I'm worried it's cos he's ambiguously/fantasy POC-coded #all power to ppl seeing themselves in Laios tho #lotta brain weirdos in this show #dungeon meshi #senshi #autism #autistic senshi #neurodivergent #delicious in dungeon #endless gratitude for the giffers

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justaz · 3 months

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merlin convincing morgana to remain in camelot and bonding over magic. uther dies and arthur becomes king and merlin and morgana are eager for arthur to repeal the ban but it never happens. then arthur and gwen are courting and morgana and merlin are a bit upset but are happy for them (sorta) but mainly they’re waiting for the ban to be repealed. it never happens. then gwen and arthur get married and morgana and gwen (+ lancelot) are devastated but hanging on by a thread for the magic ban to be repealed. it never happens. morgana is growing angrier and angrier while merlin is growing more and more reckless. morgana picks fights with arthur while merlin sticks to the shadows and protects arthur from unseen threats like always but he stops putting up much of a fight. he keeps coming back beaten black and blue, bloodied, on the brink of death.

morgana finally snaps at merlin and is like “i’ve been waiting for the ban to be lifted like you promised it would be and nothings changed. i cannot stay in this kingdom and watch the love of my life be happy with my brother while hiding myself away! you can be fine with the lying and hiding but i’m done! i’ll make my own damn happy ending” and storms off to flee camelot. lancelot finds merlin and they talk about it and lancelot is like “honestly, she has a point. i’m in love with gwen and that’ll never change. it pains me to see them so happy even though i wish nothing but the best for them. the only reason i’m still in camelot is you, merlin. if you want to stay, i’ll stay with you. if you want to go, then we’ll go.” merlin unsure and lance goes “it was you and me in the beginning, it can be you and me again” and merlin tears up but is still unsure and lance compromises with “we don’t have to leave forever. just a month or two, a year or five. however long you need.”

merlin finally agrees and lancelot goes to pack while merlin finds gwaine and tells him his plan bc if he doesn’t tell gwaine then the man will hunt him down like a bloodhound. gwaine ofc immediately agrees to go with him and they all pack their things. merlin shuffles into arthur’s chambers and turns in his resignation from his service and arthur starts freaking out like “wait what?? what’s wrong?? what happened??? let me fix it. was it a nobleman? a knight? was it me?? please tell me it wasn’t me. what happened??” and merlin can’t handle it so he just restates that he’s resigning, bows and says it was somewhat of an honor, and then turns and leaves. he finds lance and gwaine in gaius’s chambers with mordred. merlin rolls his eyes but is also kinda grateful for his friends. arthur storms in and finds three of his knights also packed at they’re like “oh shoot we were gonna tell you in the morning but since you’re here, we’re resigning too”

now arthur is faced with three less knights and one less manservant than an hour ago (he has yet to find out about his sister’s fleeing). he questions them again and the room gives merlin and arthur some privacy for merlin to tell arthur that nothing is wrong but that they just need some time away. it probably won’t be permanent but they have to leave. arthur isn’t begging because kings don’t beg but he’s doing a damn good impression and merlin is on the verge of tears again and is begging arthur not to make things harder than it needs to be. arthur grows angrier now and is like “then tell me why. why are you leaving? why are my knights leaving? tell me.” and merlin can’t think of an excuse bc he doesn’t want to push his troubles of unreciprocated love onto arthur so he just stands there and arthur is like “i thought you were one of the bravest men i ever met. turns our you’re nothing more than a coward.” anyways they split on bad terms.

merlin, lancelot, gwaine, and mordred leave camelot and have their own little adventures and run into morgana again and they form their own little band of travelers. arthur, gwen, leon, elyan, and percival are still in camelot with gwen and arthur completely in the dark while the rest of the knights Know. it’s like a few months after merlin and them left and arthur and them are drunk and he brings merlin and them up and asks what happened. the knights are quiet and gwen sits up and asks elyan and her voice is desperate enough that elyan breaks and goes “morgana and lancelot were in love with you” and they all just stare at each other and elyan rushes to fill the silence with stuff like how they wanted gwen to be happy but couldn’t bear watching gwen and arthur be so in love all the time, he explains that morgana left on her own but lancelot followed merlin. arthur asks if merlin was in love with gwen too and the knights shift before percival goes “no, he was in love with you” and leon sighs before explaining the rest.

“morgana and lancelot were in love with gwen while merlin was in love with arthur. morgana left on her own and merlin was influenced by her choice to leave and lancelot and gwaine followed him. mordred followed both morgana and merlin, i’m not sure what he would’ve done had merlin stayed and morgana left. gwaine followed merlin bc he’s in love with him.” he rubs his eye bc he can’t believe the mess things are even though it’s been this way for years “morgana couldn’t stand it. lancelot was loyal to merlin. gwaine was loyal to merlin. mordred was loyal to merlin and morgana. and merlin…merlin has been protecting you for years, arthur. he’s charged into battle against the threats you can’t see, the ones in the shadows. i’ve kept an eye on him since he got here but he’s had it handled. but recently, after your wedding, he grew reckless. he came back from every fight beaten like a pulp. he stopped trying. not to let you die, but to let them get the upper hand over him. he was dancing with death. it wasn’t healthy for any of them. that’s why they left.”

the knights leave arthur and gwen in their chambers to stew in silence, drunk and guilty and missing their friends and wondering how they could’ve missed the signs. merlin and them on the other hand are traveling from town to town, village to village, kingdom to kingdom and protecting villages from raiders, protecting druids from raids, stepping in on executions and freeing sorcerers.

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midzukishino · 9 months

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My work for the "Fluffy Zine: cats" where I did my best to draw as many cat characters that i know as I could @_@ I never drew so many characters on one canvas in my life, it was something

Game of guessing in replies is appreciated! But if you just want to check yourself here's the list of characters: The Cat Piano: the poet and the singer OFF the game: The Judge Coraline: black cat Blue Exorcist: Kuro World of Warcraft: Mr. Bigglesworth and Mischief Coco: Pepita Katekyo Hitman Reborn: gatto tempesta Uri Hetalia: Japan cat, England cat, France cat, China cat, Russia cat, America cat, Germany cat and Italy cat Castle cats: Francis, Conan and Catniss My Neighbor Totoro: Catbus Baldur's Gate 3: Tara Kid vs. Kat: Mr. Kat Shaman King: Matamune and Mic Tom and Jerry: Tom The Legend of Pipi: Pipi My Little Pony The Movie: Capper Soul Eater: Blair Pokemon: sprigatito, litten, espeon, purrloin, meowth, skitty The Legend of Luo Xiaohei: Luo Xiaohei Alice in Wonderland: The Cheshire Cat Homestuck: Vodka Mutini Cinderella: Lucifer The Cat Returns: Yuki and Prince Lune, Baron Humbert von Gikkingen and Muta A Whisker Away: Miyo and Kinako 101 Dalmatians: Sergeant Tibbs Lady and the Tramp: Si and Am Кот, который гулял сам по себе: Кот Dog in Boots/Пёс в сапогах: Milady Warrior Cats: Scourge and Firestar Tailchaser's Song: Fritti Tailchaser Mad Rat Dead: Mad Rat and Heart Varjak Paw: Varjak Paw, Holly, Tam Oliver & Company: Oliver Иван Царевич и Серый волк: Кот-учёный Three from Prostokvashino/Трое из Простоквашино: Matroskin Tutenstein: Luxor The Ancient Magus' Bride: Molly Felidae: Francis Chi's Sweet Home: Chi Котёнок по имени Гав: Гав Bolt: Mittens Rudolf the Black Cat: Rudolf and Gottalot Eleceed: Kayden and Kartein Puss in Boots: The Last Wish: Puss in Boots, Kitty Softpaws and Perrito The Aristocats: Berlioz, Toulouse, Marie, Duchess and Thomas O'Malley League of legends: Yuumi Re:zero: Puck Thunder and the House of Magic: Thunder Kiki's Delivery Service: Jiji Story Of Fifty Centimeters: Nanao and Machi and prints on the bottles: Hallmarks of felinity: Solange Кошки-мышки: Кот и Мышь Simon's Cat: Cat Nyan Cat

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 days

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Margaret Killjoy’s “The Sapling Cage”

TODAY (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

The Sapling Cage is the first book in Margaret Killjoy's new "Daughters of the Empty Throne" trilogy: it's a queer coming-of-age tale in the mode of epic fantasy, and it's very good:

https://firestorm.coop/products/21646-the-sapling-cage.html

Lorel wants to be a witch, but that's the very last of the adventurous trades to be strictly gender-segregated. Boys and girls alike run away to be knights, brigands and sailors, but only girls can become a witch. Indeed, Lorel's best friend, Lane, is promised to the witches, having been born to a witch herself.

Lane doesn't want to be a witch. She wants to be a knight. So she and Lorel swap places, so when the crones come to their little hamlet to collect the girl who was promised to her, it's Lorel who steps forward, wearing the black dress Lane's mother left behind. None of the townsfolk rate Lorel out to the witches, and just like that, she is on the march with the coven, a whelp – the lowest ranking inductee, aspiring to "apprentice" and then, "witch."

What follows is, in some ways, a very expertly executed coming-of-age story. Lane is getting trained up with the coven, among a new cohort of whelps of varying degrees of friendliness and hostility. The world is a richly realized fantasy landscape of monsters and giants, magic and political intrigue.

Lorel has signed up for witching just as the land is turning against witches, thanks to a political plot by a scheming duchess who has scapegoated the witches as part of a plan to annex all the surrounding duchies, re-establishing the long-disintegrated kingdom with herself on the throne. To make things worse (for the witches, if not the duchess), there's a plague of monsters on the land, and the forests are blighted with a magical curse that turns trees to unmelting ice. This all softens up the peasantfolk for anti-witch pogroms.

So Lorel has to learn witching, even as her coven is fighting both monsters and the duchess's knights and the vigilante yokels who've been stirred up with anti-witch xenophobia.

This is a good, sturdy, serviceable plot, and in Killjoy's hands, it is expertly handled. There are lots of reversals and double-crosses, brilliant fight scenes, all the things you could want in an epic fantasy. And of course, it's a coming of age, with Lorel seeing the world and discovering who she is and brushing away the comforting half-truths and lies her elders have cocooned her in.

That's where the fact that Lorel is trans comes in. Lorel is figuring out what that means, but she's also very worried about discovery. After all, she's entered the company of witches, the last all-female cohort in the land, and these are powerful women – what's more, they're anarchists, leaderless and fractious. Who knows what happens if Lorel gets discovered.

So you've got this incredibly well-turned fantasy/coming-of-age story going on, and Killjoy figures out how to work in this gender stuff not just as a way of doing "representation" or "queer joy" or any other value that's orthogonal to the literary merits of this as an adventure tale. Nor does she simply integrate trans-ness as an unremarkable fact of life, another kind of statement (indeed, there's plenty of queer characters in this story who are matter-of-fact in this manner).

No, Killjoy uses the special complications of coming-of-age while transitioning to heighten the stakes and thus fuel the suspense of the novel. In addition to all the normal merits of diverse characters, Killjoy is using gender issues to crank up the story, winding it up to a breakneck pace that makes the pages practically fly past.

Thematically, there's a bunch of chewy stuff Killjoy does with the way that magic transforms bodies, making monsters out of witches who push their powers too hard. The story has all these changing bodies – children coming of age, Lorel coming out as transfemme, the transformation of magic-users into monsters. It's just another layer of depth that supports a zippy, run-and-gun quest tale.

I've followed Killjoy's work for more than a decade, ever since her days publishing the seminal zine Steampunk (motto: "Love the machine, hate the factory"):

https://firestorm.coop/products/2624-steampunk-magazine.html

Years later, I had the pleasure of instructing her at the Clarion West workshop. She's published regularly all that time, and this is by far her most commercial – and, I think her best! – novel (to date).

Today, Tor Books publishes SPILL, a new, free LITTLE BROTHER novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/24/daughters-of-the-empty-throne/#witchy/a>

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southernmermaidsgrotto · 2 years

Text

Hoodoo, Rootwork and Conjure sources by Black Authors

Because you should only ever be learning your ancestral ways from kinfolk. Here's a compilation of some books, videos and podcast episodes I recommend reading and listening to, on customs, traditions, folk tales, songs, spirits and history. As always, use your own critical thinking and spiritual discernment when approaching these sources as with any others.

Hoodoo in America by Zora Neale Hurston (1931)

Mules and Men by Zora Neale Hurston (1936)

Tell my horse by Zora Neale Hurston (1938)

Let Nobody Turn Us Around: An African American Anthology by Manning Marable and Leith Mullings, editors (2003)

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau (2006)

African American Folk Healing by Stephanie Mitchem (2007)

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell (2011)

Mojo Workin': The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald (2012)

Rootwork: Using the Folk Magick of Black America for Love, Money and Success by Tayannah Lee McQuillar (2012)

Talking to the Dead: Religion, Music, and Lived Memory among Gullah/Geechee Women by LeRhonda S. Manigault-Bryant (2014)

Working the Roots: Over 400 Years Of Traditional African American Healing by Michele Elizabeth Lee (2017)

Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston (2018)

Jambalaya: The Natural Woman's Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisa Teish (2021)

African American Herbalism: A Practical Guide to Healing Plants and Folk Traditions by Lucretia VanDyke (2022)

youtube

These are just some suggestions but there's many many more!! This is by no means a complete list.

I recommend to avoid authors who downplay the importance of black history or straight out deny how blackness is central to hoodoo. The magic, power and ashé is in the culture and bloodline. You can't separate it from the people. I also recommend avoiding or at the very least taking with a huge grain of salt authors with ties to known appropriators and marketeers, and anyone who propagates revisionist history or rather denies historical facts and spreads harmful conspiracy theories. Sadly, that includes some black authors, particularly those who learnt from, and even praise, white appropriators undermining hoodoo and other african and african diasporic traditions. Be careful who you get your information from. Keeping things traditional means honoring real history and truth.

Let me also give you a last but very important reminder: the best teachings you'll ever get are going to come from the mouths of your own blood. Not a book or anything on the internet. They may choose to put certain people and things in your path to help you or point you in the right direction, but each lineage is different and you have to honor your own. Talk to your family members, to the Elders in your community, learn your genealogy, divine before moving forwards, talk to your dead, acknowledge your people and they'll acknowledge you and guide you to where you need to be.

May this be of service and may your ancestors and spirits bless you and yours 🕯️💀

#hoodoo #conjure #rootwork #black hoodoo authors #Youtube #hoodoo books #african american conjure #african american history #black history #black folklore #african american folklore #black magic #african american magic #witches of color #ATRs #Spotify

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dcllbows · 11 months

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐩

pairing | daddy!andy barber x little!reader

summary | you’ve found your favorite way to help your daddy with his grownup work.

warnings | smut, ddlg, riding, unprotected p in v, sooooo soft daddy andy, so much fluff, lots of pet names

notice | my blog is not suitable for those under the age of 18. if that applies to you, please navigate away from this page.

the large house was quiet, save for your timid steps making the floor creak every so often. you had no idea of the time, but you knew it was way too late for him to be working still. as you padded your way towards his office door, you contemplated turning around, going back to your room, and forcing yourself to go to sleep. after a battle with your thoughts that lasted probably all of a half second, you gathered the courage to give the door a knock.

“come in,” he said. you turned the knob, peeking around the door frame. “come here, pumpkin. what do you need?” he asked softly, taking note of your reserved expression. “can i sit on your lap, dada?” he offered his hand, and you took it, letting him pull you up onto his lap. he situated you facing the desk, one arm wrapped around your waist, and one making notes in his book. his hand gently resting on the inside of your thigh made you squirm slightly.

“you okay, bubba?” he knew what you wanted the minute you stepped into his office; you always got a certain look in your eyes when you were needy. regardless, he wanted to hear you say it. wanted you to come to him when you needed him. your head lay on his shoulder as he pressed kisses to your temple, trying his best to coax what he wanted out of you.

you let out a sigh, pulling his hand to your lace-clad core. “ah-ah, sweetheart. daddy’s not letting you get off that easy. use your words, pretty girl.”

“can you touch my princess parts, daddy?” you whispered, turning your head slightly to catch his eye. “what’s the magic word, baby?” he asked, his face softening as his gaze met yours. “pretty please with a cherry on top?” you pleaded, pupils dilating.

“it must be serious if you’re putting a cherry on top,” he chuckled, “how about this: do you want to help daddy with his grownup work?”

“yes, of course dada!” you gasped. “how can i be of service?” you asked, putting on your best big girl face.

he turned you around to face him. letting you straddle his waist, he led your hand to the waistband of his jet black sweats. “i need you to be my very special helper. can you do that, bubba?” you nodded eagerly. “good girl. now, i need you to reach in and take out daddy’s cock, okay? then i’ll tell you what to do next.”

you tugged down his pants slightly, his boxer briefs coming with them. as he kicked his pants off his ankles, you moved to stroke him, but his hand stopped you. “did i tell you to do that?” he asked, his tone authoritative but still with a hint of softness.

“sorry, daddy.” you replied shyly. “it’s alright, baby. you just have to make sure to be a good listener, like we always talk about. can you do that for me, angel?” you pressed a kiss to andy’s cheek as you nodded again.

“good girl,” he repeated, “now what i want you to do is let daddy put his cock in your special place.”

“gonna feel good, dada?” you asked as andy pressed soft kisses to your jaw, moving down your neck. “it’s gonna feel so good, baby. gonna feel so good in your tight little pussy.” he grabbed your hips and swiftly lifted you, gently lowering you down on his cock. you whimpered as he buried himself in you. “look who’s soaking wet for me.” he said, raising an eyebrow.

you rested your head on his shoulder as he began to do his work again. “feels good, daddy.”

“you’re taking me so good, angel. bein’ such a perfect girl for me.” you let out a soft whimper every now and then, when he would shift in position. while the fact that andy was inside of you was exhilarating, the warmth of his skin and his hand rubbing your back was making you tired. “daddy?” you raised your head from his shoulder.

“what is it, baby?” he searched your face.

“i’m sleepy.” you whined, lowering your head a little so your cheek was touching his. rubbing your back, he murmured, “why don’t we get you upstairs, babydoll?” he kissed you softly as you began to moan in protest, those moans quickly turning to sounds of desire.

“don’t wanna go upstairs, daddy. wanna play with you.” you stated breathily, grinding your hips against his.

“my pretty girl wants to come on daddy’s cock, hmm?” you nod profusely, gripping his shoulders as you rode him. “ride me just like that, pumpkin. tell me when you’re close, okay baby?”

“okay, daddy.” your words were mangled by your moans, which turned more strangled and breathy as you quickened your pace. you used andy’s neck to muffle your sweet sounds, moving closer to him and allowing the gap between your bodies to close.

“jesus christ, cupcake. that pussy’s so fuckin' sloppy. you getting close?” you nodded, whimpering. he reached down between the two of you and rubbed your clit. “your little button must be so sensitive, huh bunny? barely given it any attention.”

“gonna come, dada. i’m gonna come.” you fell apart on his cock, going limp and leaving it to him to hold your weight. “you’re gonna make daddy come too, squeezing me like that.” he released inside of you, moaning gruffly in your ear.

as you both came down from your highs, you sighed heavily into the other’s neck. “‘m sleepy, dada.” you whispered.

“i know, bubba. why don’t i take you upstairs and we can get some sleep?” you nodded meekly as andy scooped you up and began to carry you up the stairs.

you arrived to yours and andy’s shared room. he set you down on the bed, grabbing wipes from the nightstand drawer. “gotta make sure your princess parts are nice and clean, okay babybug?”

once he finished cleaning you, he climbed into bed with you. the covers engulfed you both as you tucked your body into his arms, his intoxicating cologne making you sleepy. “you smell good, daddy.”

“thank you, buttercup. it’s time to go to sleep, though.” he kissed your cheek.

“night night, dada. i love you.”

“i love you, babydoll. goodnight.”

#chris evans #andy barber #andy barber x little!reader #daddy!andy barber x little!reader #andy barber smut

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redflagshipwriter · 28 days

Text

Halfa Cass 9 pt 1

masterpost

The first thing Danny did when he woke up was blink to focus on his breath. Nothing was visible. He vaulted up from his sprawl across the couch and prowled around the apartment, unnerved.

It felt like someone was here, or had been here. It was subtle, but there was a ghostly touch in the area. There shouldn’t be. He had confirmed that no one was haunting this building before they moved in. City ghosts tended to stay in their personal environment, whether that was sitting on a recliner in the apartment they’d died in or forever running a route in a ghostly version of the delivery van they’d worked in for decades.

He investigated in increasingly paranoid detail, even daring to flick on a bit of smuggled Fenton tech to wave around in search of ecto.

“Whoever came by is gone,” Danny admitted. He stood in the middle of the dinky open plan apartment for a while feeling lost. Then the energy rush left him. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched a little, trying to work up a little bit of enthusiasm for the day.

It was a Friday morning, not quite 5 am. Damn. He’d really adjusted his sleeping schedule. Jazz would be back from her overnight shift soon.

“I should make her breakfast,” Danny said, half-heartedly hoping that saying it aloud would magically compel and energize him. It didn’t. He eventually shuffled to the kitchen nook, pushed by duty and not any kind of internal motivation.

Jazz was the only one with a semi-legit identity. They hadn’t been able to pay for papers for both of them. Even though he was making the bulk of their money, they were pretty sure that Jazz needed some kind of legal justification for her income.

Employment options were limited. Without qualifications, she was pretty much only looking at customer service, where hundreds of people would see her face every day. That was a nerve wracking prospect when they were hiding. They were serious enough about restarting that they had both trashed their lifelong career dreams. Jazz was studying friggin’ bridges and whatever, civil engineering. Danny didn’t even know what he would do when it was his turn to get a formal education.

So. Obviously. Standing in front of hundreds of people daily was not the best option for their desired level of anonymity.

Luckily, Gotham had a shitty fast food chain where the gimmick was that the employees were in costume. So Jazz had crammed her class load into Monday-Thursday and she worked overnight Thursday to Saturday nights every week, serving burgers up in a full face mask as a Black Bat.

He decided to start with coffee. That might help.

Danny filled the water tank, put a filter in, and poured coffee beans in. Then he groaned, took the beans out, and resentfully put them into the dumb hand grinder. He put the powder back into the filter, pressed the button, and watched as nothing happened.

It took a while to notice that nothing was happening.

Jazz came home at 5:22, bringing with her a cloud of fry oil scent. He vaguely heard the door unlock and her kick off her shoes. She paused when she saw the disassembled coffee maker on their table. The old Jazz would have scolded him for making a mess where they ate. The high school version of her would have sighed about the mess.

The exhausted food service version of Jazz took it in stride. “I grabbed food,” she said. “Come on, couch.” She opened a cupboard door and took something out on tiptoes before shutting it near-silently. She put the food down to duck into the bathroom and take out her brown colored contacts.

Danny grunted. A few seconds later her words reached his brains. He blinked. “Right. Thanks,” he said belatedly. He put down his tools and washed his hands. “Should I grab utensils?” he called. He heard the sound of relief as Jazz sat on the couch, off her aching feet.

“Yes, please.”

He yanked open the drawer, unintentionally making things clatter. Danny winced at the volume and picked out two forks. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and headed over to see what Jazz had brought home.

She had two styrofoam boxes, clearly from a diner and not Batburger. Fair enough. They were both sick to death of their menu.

Danny’s box had two pancakes, scrambled eggs, and a side of bacon. He glanced over to see that Jazz had the same thing with sausage instead of the bacon. The syrup was already on the coffee table.

The smell hit him like a freight train. Suddenly, Danny was ravenous. He tore through his eggs and bacon and then went for the syrup, drowning the pancakes. When he was done he put the box down with a sigh of relief and looked over to see that Jazz was slouching, hand thrown over her face. “Long day?” he asked.

Jazz groaned. “Leave me to die,” she begged. She slumped a little more, encroaching into his half of the sofa. Her dull brown hair coiled on the sofa cushion, dryer than it had ever been back in Amity.

Danny took the hint that she wanted the couch. He gathered up their trash and went back to the kitchen. He worked as quietly as he could on the coffee machine and wished his sister was home and awake more.

If life was just like this, sort of hard but the two of them pulling together, it would be kind of…nice. There was a domestic fantasy element.

But the outside world was going to intrude. Danny put the coffeemaker together and then set it to run. While it worked, he went to the shitty plastic dresser that held his work clothes and changed into his underlayer of t-shirt and soft jogging pants. He stuffed a heavy jacket and thick jeans into a plastic bag and then put that in his work bag. He didn’t want to be late for work. Like, really didn’t want to be late for work. His supervisor coming to find him and meeting Jazz had featured in more than one nightmare. The people he worked for were just plain scary. Danny zipped his bag shut and then poured the entire pot of coffee into his thermos for the day.

“I’m going,” he called quietly, on the off chance that Jazz was still awake. And then he left to see what the local gang needed built this week.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #red halfa cass

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whitedarkmoonflower · 8 months

Text

You are good

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: I refuse all responsibility for this and blame @foxyanon and this post for planting this idea into my head. I think you will recognise your quotes. 😅

Warnings: SMUT 18+

Word Count: 3,3 K

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw

If you want to be added to or removed from the tag list - write to me.

Uhtred's tail, you had silently dubbed him. "Yes, lord" and "No, lord" were nearly the only phrases to escape his lips. Most of the time, he seemed to vanish, only to reappear as if conjured by a magic wand at the mere sound of his name, his head tucked into his shoulders, hunched forward, eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding any direct gaze. Horses need to be readied – Sihtric will do that. Not enough wood for the fire – he’s already gone searching. Pretty face and large, alerted eyes. Suspicious eyes.

You didn’t trust him. Uhtred apparently did, but your brother had always had a far too big and soft heart, he tried to hide behind his loud talk about destiny and honour. So, you kept a watchful eye on Sihtric.

You saw him conversing with the horses in hushed, gentle tones, telling them about his day, treating them as if they were his best friends, meticulously brushing their backs. You witnessed him sitting in the darkness, far from the reach of the fire's flickering light, leaning against a tree or a cart, his form curled up, arms wrapped around his legs, chin resting on his knees. He would startle at the sound of raucous, drunken laughter piercing the air. You noticed him shudder when his name was called, jumping to his feet as if he'd been bitten by a venomous snake, and wince when someone unexpectedly placed a hand on his shoulder.

But you saw other things as well. You observed him reach into his saddlebag, generously distributing all his provisions to the beggars who sat at the city gates as you entered Winchester. You saw him remove the silver ring recently bestowed upon him by Uhtred, gifting it to a small, emaciated boy whom he had caught attempting to steal his pouch just moments earlier. You even saw him step in and kick out a drunkard from the alehouse, who was about to take a swing at the serving girl.

"Here, have a drink," you offered him a mug, settling down beside him. He flinched and looked up at you in surprise. A hesitant smile graced Sihtric's lips as he accepted the drink from you, his eyes filled with warmth and gratitude. That's how it all began – your quiet chats away from the noisy laughter and banter by the fireplaces. You were just plain curious and cautious, or so you kept telling yourself. You wanted to learn more about the reserved and timid warrior in your brother’s service. And with each moment, each story he shared as he gradually opened up to you, revealing bits and pieces from his life, your fascination with him never wavered.

Your own path hadn't been a walk in the park either. You'd lost everything except your brother. You both survived that Danish assault, but life played a cruel trick on you, and you didn't luck out like Uhtred who found a new family. Fate turned you into a warrior, fueled by anger, rage, and an unquenchable thirst for revenge. Sometimes, it felt like your heart stopped beating the day the Danes yanked you from your old life, leaving you with an empty, pitch-black hole in your chest. It changed when you reunited with Uhtred. It was like you finally fit into this world again, and your brother's love warmed your heart. Yet, in the quiet of the night, when you were alone with your thoughts, that dark hole in your chest still haunted you, making you wonder if you were really alive.

And now, you'd crossed paths with someone whose journey had been even more rocky as yours, whose soul seemed like an open, bleeding wound. But within him, there still was a warmth that felt like it could rekindle the spark of life within your own heart too.

—----------------------------------------------------

"What a pretty thing!" the guard sneered, his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks as he pulled you closer, his foul breath assaulting your senses. It had been your fault; your recklessness had landed both you and Sihtric in this grimy dungeon. But not a single word of reproach had escaped Sihtric's lips. You had a sense that rescue might be on the horizon, as the boy who had been with you had escaped and was likely delivering the news to Uhtred. However, for the moment, you were stuck here.

"Don't touch her!" Sihtric hissed, his voice quivering with anger as he swatted the guard's hand away from you.

"What the hell! Hold that rat for me," the guard grumbled, turning his attention away from you, while the other two forcibly twisted Sihtric's arms behind his back. You winced as the first blow landed on Sihtric's face, jerking his head to the side, followed by another and another. Not a sound escaped his lips as he stared back at the guard, his eyes burning with pure hatred.

Another punch, this time aimed at Sihtric's abdomen, caused him to double over with a grunt, gasping for air. The guards released him, and Sihtric's knees and hands crumpled to the ground. A heavy leather boot struck his stomach, sending him sprawling. Arms defensively wrapped around his head, Sihtric writhed on the floor, convulsing under the brutal onslaught that was shattering his body.

"I hope this serves as a valuable lesson, you filthy heathen. Next time, think before you open your mouth," one of the guards spat, then turned to leave, motioning for the others to follow suit.

"What was that? Are you out of your mind?" you whispered sharply to Sihtric, rushing to his side and kneeling beside him to assess the damage. His nose was bleeding, and his lip and eyebrow were cut. Gently, you placed his arm around your shoulders, wrapping your arm around his waist as you helped him back on his feet and guided him towards a heap of straw in the corner of the cell. He sank heavily onto it, leaning his back and head against the wall.

"At least they got distracted," he shuddered, shoulders quivering, spitting blood and wiping his chin with his sleeve.

"That was incredibly foolish of you. It seems you don't have any broken ribs, but it could have turned out much worse," you tore the lower edge of your tunic and reached out to clean the blood from Sihtric's face with the makeshift rag.

"It's not too high a price to pay if it keeps their attention off you," Sihtric replied, raising his eyes, and for perhaps the first time, your gazes consciously met. "Besides, I'm used to it," he added, a sad smile playing on his lips.

"I can handle myself," you hissed, but your eyes were brimming with gratitude, while Sihtric merely shrugged his shoulders, wincing when your fingers touched his split lip.

—---------------------------------------

Your blood ran hot, adrenaline surging through your veins, a loud thump of your heart in your ears. Your senses sharpened to an almost painful degree as it seemed you could hear the trampled grass beneath your feet crying out. Your fingers clenched tightly around the shaft of your axe, tracing every line and wrinkle carved into the wood, as you melded seamlessly with your weapon, becoming an extension of your arm. There was no escape from the thick, intoxicating scent of blood that hung in the air, clinging to your clothes, seeping through your skin, intensifying the thrill. You sank to your knees, using the shaft of your axe for support, the taste of iron and ashes lingering in your mouth.

"Are you injured?" you flinched at the touch on your shoulder, raising your head only to see Sihtric quickly retract his hand.

Today was the first time you had witnessed him in battle, his eyes ablaze with excitement, his body a coiled spring of taut muscles, moving with purpose and precision. He resembled a young wolf on the hunt, thrilled by his own strength and agility, seamlessly blending with the chaos around him.

A brief, lingering gaze at the young Dane fighting alongside you had cost you dearly. A sudden swing of an axe caught you off guard, your step back too hurried and unsteady, causing you to lose your balance and tumble, releasing your own weapon. The stench of death filled your nostrils, the axe poised in the air, ready to strike, etching itself into your senses as you desperately fumbled to find something to counter the blow.

Too late, a single thought pierced your mind as you watched the blade descend, moving so agonisingly slow that it felt as if time itself had altered its pace just to mock you. A clank of metal and a scorching splatter of blood across your face brought the world back to its normal tempo, as the lifeless body of a red-faced Dane thudded to the ground beside you. A hand reached out, and you grasped it, allowing it to yank you back onto your feet. You met the piercing gaze of two mismatched eyes, filled with anxiety and something more, something profound and indescribable, yet so intense that it sent shivers down your spine. There was no time for words as you both were drawn back into the intricate dance of life and death surrounding you.

"I'm fine," you growled, breathing heavily, your body trembling as you pushed yourself upright with the aid of the axe's shaft. A deep ache surged through your tired muscles. You seized Sihtric's hand, which hung hesitantly in the air, and pulled him along with you, striding towards the trees at the edge of the clearing. He followed, eyes wide with surprise but offering no resistance.

You plunged into the forest, not stopping until the battlefield's clearing had long vanished from view, leaving behind all its chaotic sounds. Silence, you needed silence—to quiet your racing mind.

A startled crow fluttered away, its caw echoing through the trees and your ears. Coming to a halt, you turned to face the utterly bewildered gaze of Sihtric. Pushing him against the nearest tree trunk, your fingers frantically fumbled with the laces of his breeches.

"What... what are you doing?" he gasped, as your hand slipped inside his pants.

"Feeling alive," you whispered, a mischievous smile appearing on your lips as you felt his cock hardening under your touch.

You had grown tired of those lingering glances and deep sighs, of him becoming more like your shadow than even Uhtred's. You had had enough of his trembling fingers and flushed cheeks, his hand brushing against yours when you passed him an ale mug, and the way he held his breath when you sat beside him, your thighs touching.

You wanted him, and you were aware that he craved for you just as intensely. You could feel his blood running hot at this very moment, just as yours did. You had seen it in his eyes, in that brief, fleeting moment after he helped you back to your feet, and you didn't want to wait any longer. You knew him too well by now to realise he wouldn't make the first move, so you had to be the one.

"I... I can't... we can't... Oh, damn it...," Sihtric stammered, a loud, almost desperate moan escaping his lips as you pulled down his breeches, freeing his already fully hard cock, wrapping your hand around it and giving it a few slow, teasing strokes.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been dreaming about this. I’m not blind. I can see how you look at me,” you purred, biting your lower lip, while your hand kept moving.

"I... Oh gods, fuck... You're Uhtred's sister, and I... I... He'll kill me if..." The words caught in Sihtric's throat, his breathing quickening and growing more erratic, his hands balling into fists as your fingers moved to the tip of his pulsing shaft, collecting the precum and spreading it along its length.

“You just saved my life,” you murmured, going down on your knees before him and licking your lips at the sight of Sihtric’s long and thick, perfectly formed cock, tip slightly red and dripping, “and I haven’t even thanked you for stepping in that time in the dungeon.”

Feeling Sihtric's entire body tense, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, savouring the sight of him. Head thrown back, eyes closed, breathing shallow and ragged, he leaned heavily against the tree, his arms hanging somewhat awkwardly by his sides. You were surprised that he still hadn't made a move to touch you.

"This isn't your first time, is it?" you suddenly inquired, raising an eyebrow. You smiled as Sihtric vigorously shook his head. "Good. Then you know what to expect, don't you? You know how good it feels," you teased him, pressing your mouth to his upper thigh, trailing a path with your tongue and placing soft, wet kisses on his naked skin. Sihtric exhaled sharply, but didn’t answer.

“Talk to me,” you ordered, giving a teasing, quick lick to the tip of his cock.

“Aaahhh, y-yes,” Sihtric whimpered, gasping for air, pressing both his palms against the tree.

“But you said, we couldn't do this. Have you changed your mind?” you asked, your tone taunting. “Tell me, do you want me to take you in my mouth? Do you want to feel my lips around you?” you circled his tip with your tongue, your hand jerking him, so teasingly slowly. You could tell you were driving him mad by the way, his breathing was picking up with each gentle lap of your wet and hot tongue and each movement of your hand.

You were aware that you were a brat, torturing him, testing his self-control, but you wanted to know how long he could hold back.You had seen his eyes glint with passion and fervour on the battlefield and you wanted to see them glint the same now. You wanted him to lose his composure and fully surrender to the pleasure you were eager to offer.

"I don't hear you," you pulled back and released your hold on him, causing Sihtric to whine in frustration.

“Yes, yes… fuck, by the gods… I… I want it … I want you…,” he breathed, a mortified look on his pretty face, his cheeks crimson, “I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you. You are so beautiful and so … so strong, but … fuck, ahhh, please, please touch me,” he whined.

“Ask me nicely,” you purred, moving your mouth back closer to his throbbing cock.

“Please, just touch me again. Please, I need you …,” Sihtric begged, his voice shaky, a slight desperation creeping in it. He was finally looking down at you as he reached out, cupping your chin with his rough tattooed fingers, his thumb gliding over your lips, eyes darkening with lust and longing.

You kept your gaze locked with him as you bit your bottom lip and wrapped your fingers around his length again.

“Good, you are such a good boy. Just relax and enjoy. Can you do that for me, handsome? I want you to feel good,” you purred, a satisfied smile on your lips as you heard Sihtric gasp and whimper at your touch.

Sihtric moaned loudly as your lips closed around the tip of his cock, your tongue lapping at it teasingly, and then you moved up taking him in your mouth almost completely. You sucked gently at first, then harder, relishing the soft whines and moans rolling over Sihtric’s lips as your head started to move up and down his length, your palm firmly around the base, stroking the part that didn’t fit in.

Sihtric’s hands were in your hair, not pulling or tugging, just holding on to you, gently and carefully, his trembling fingers caressing you, brushing your hair out of your face. He looked so sweet trying to keep his eyes on you, trying to keep still. You moaned, feeling his grip in your hair tensing, as you fastened your movements, wrapping your lips even tighter around his cock, watching him lose his uneven struggle. It didn’t take long for him to become a whimpering, moaning mess, his hips thrusting forward, eyes half lid, breath heavy and panting as he finally lost himself in the pleasure your mouth was giving him.

“It feels so good…,” he moaned, as his hips started to move faster, fucking your mouth harder and deeper, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he chased his release, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightening, “I’m close… aaahhh, I can’t take it much longer! Slow down… stop … please, let me … ” he whined through his panting breath, looking down at you questioningly, but you kept sucking him like your life would depend on it, tears bursting into the corners of your eyes, moaning lewdly your mouth stuffed with his cock as your core throbbed in burning need for him.

You loved the desperate, wanton sounds rolling over his lips, the sight of him falling apart, all shaky and whiny, his limbs starting to tremble, because you made him feel so good, because you had this power over him. You and only you! You didn’t let go of him, didn’t allow him to pull out and after a few more sloppy thrusts, his cock twitched in your mouth, his head snapped back and with a loud moan Sihtric was spilling down your throat, cursing under his breath.

“Oh gods… fuck…,” Sihtric looked down at you, breathing heavily and slumping his back against the tree. You let him come down from his high, sucking gently and letting your tongue slide over his sensitive tip, making him moan and twitch a few more times.

Breath panting, Sihtric reached out to you, pulling you off your knees into his embrace as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, his fingers gently brushing through your hair.

"I...," he began.

"Shh, don't speak," you interrupted him, leaning into his embrace and listening to his racing heartbeat beneath your ear. "Can you hear it?" you asked, placing your hand on his chest. "It's beating; you are alive. Isn't it wonderful to be alive?"

A deep sigh escaped Sihtric as he continued to hold you to his chest, his body quivering slightly. "Why are you so good to me?" he finally asked, cupping your face with his hands and lifting it to meet his questioning gaze.

"Because you are good, Sihtric," you whispered. "I have seen the goodness in you, I have felt it, and I want to be a part of it. I want to be yours."

"You want to be mine?" The surprise in Sihtric's voice was evident, his large, beautiful eyes reflecting the disbelief that his tone betrayed. He couldn't bring himself to believe it. After a lifetime of being resented and despised for who he was, he simply couldn't accept what you were saying.

"Yes, I do. Do you want to be mine?" you asked, taken aback by the quiver in your own voice. The silence lingered in the air as you awaited his response. You had finally found him, a man you were certain you wanted in your life not just for fleeting moments of pleasure but for a lifetime. Someone you had come to admire and wished to care for, someone from whom you wanted to receive care. His kindness and inner strength had captured your heart in an unexpected way. You felt certain that in Sihtric you had found a man who possessed the strength and warmth to fill that dark void in your chest.

"I'm already yours," Sihtric murmured, "I'm yours. I've always been yours," he repeated more resolutely, leaning in to capture your lips in the gentlest and most tender of kisses. Without breaking the kiss, Sihtric spun you around, pressing your body against the tree, and a soft gasp escaped your lips as you felt his already firm arousal pressing against your thigh.

"If you are mine, then I'm allowed to make you feel good too," he purred. "Will you be a good girl for me?" he asked, his bashful smile turning into a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he went down on his knees before you.

#sihtric #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric smut #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #tlk fic #the last kingdom

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foolsocracy · 5 months

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Hi, hello, I’m new to your blog. I’ve made myself at home. Lovely carpet.

Can I please know more about your spider Robbie pie? Can’t seem to find the silverware.

but of course, kind anon

Spider Robbie is an au in which Robbie Robertson takes up the spider mantle after the death of the one before him. He is the third, following Ben Urich and, most notably, Peter Parker.

This au is very much canon divergence from Eyes Without a Face, where Peter makes it in time to save Robbie from his original fate but dies in the process. Peter is shot while rushing Robbie and the others out. In his panic and elation at finding Robbie physically unharmed, Peter outs himself as the Spider Man to his best friend. Robbie stays with him as he bleeds out and resolves to continue to hide Peter's identity.

Peter is buried and remains that way for... an undetermined amount of time.

Robbie is left with a mask, a jacket, and the question of just who was this other half of his friend. As he learns more of who this... Spider Man was, he gets more and more involved in the spider's cases and conflicts. Robbie gets more sure of his own abilities and makes a bit of a name for the Spider Man within his own community, though the people of Harlem are largely unaware that the appearances of a masked vigilante match the interests of one Robbie Robertson.

It is to be noted that none of these aforementioned abilities are spider-god-induced powers like Peter's. Robbie, especially at the beginning of his spidering career, leans more into Urich's role than Parker's. To me, Robbie has been passionate about the press and journalism in a way that Peter never was. For Pete, his job as a photographer and reporter was a job he took until he could get into college and study science. Robbie has a way with words and communication that Peter frankly lacks. Of course, that isn't to say that Robbie won't be kicking ass, because he will. It will just take him a bit of time to get some of those skills as he's, well, a normal guy. Not everyone can get their biology scrambled like Pete.

And just because Robbie hasn't been scrambled doesn't mean he's completely separate from all things supernatural either!

I think the marvel noir universe is at its best when there's a magical, supernatural undercurrent. This concept isn't super prevalent in the actual comics, but HoplesslyLost on ao3 has done some really cool world building with it.

I think in Robbie's case, where he would be the narrator, "magical realism" would be an interesting avenue to take it. I use this term in particular because I most closely relate it to Toni Morrison in my head, when I first learned about it through her work in high school. For Morrison, the concept was inseparable to blackness and I think for Robbie, where his blackness is so central to his character and his motivations, drawing on that could be more of a service to his character. It feels better to do that than ignore how incredibly racialized his society and story is. It will make his relationship with the spider god, Peter (who I will get to very very shortly), his community, and his own mythos as The Spider Man really interesting and complex.

So it's been established that Robbie doesn't have spider powers. And we all know that Peter did-- or should I say does. One of the spider god's abilities is to bring Peter back to life. She does this in the comics, but not in any of the runs from 2008-2010 (the runs that make up this au). When Peter dies on Ellis Island, he does not think he is coming back from that. Waking up again is a surprise.

Here's where I think the au really takes a left turn. Do I think the Spider God is purely evil and spiteful and has it out for Pete? No, not really. Will I be ramping said traits up to 11 for the au? Yeah, I guess I might. This is because I love a little bit of horror and the came back wrong trope. I will hopefully be fleshing the spider god out in the near future, but I really haven't given her the many hours of thought I have the other characters. For that I'm sorry spider god </3

Peter digs himself out of his grave, more spider than he ever has been. For much of his new, waking life he is more animalistic than not. There is clearly something wrong with him; his joints are too flexible and loose, he's got some eye-shine going on, his skin is pale and his veins are starkly dark beneath it. He's possessed. Someone is puppeteering him, someone who knows a lot-- almost everything about him, but it's clear that the someone isn't him.

And Peter--- the body, it can't be Peter. At least, that's what Robbie thinks when the figure catches his eye the first time. Because Peter is dead and buried, and he has been dead and buried for weeks.

#WOAH this is long #while still not saying much... mweh heh heh #other notes that i don't know how to add in w/out derailing the main vague explanation of the au:#the trio shifts from Peter & Robbie & MJ to Robbie & MJ & Gloria #robbie and his girl gang #and u all know me for my robbienoir shipping well.... Peter's romantic feelings for Robbie are a major point of some parts of this au #get possessed gay boy #Toni Morrison might be a bit out of left field here but I love her work so much and I actually listen to her interviews #to get a grasp on how I want robbie's language to flow. I am NOT eloquent but she has such a way w words when she just SPEAKS #her and the rapper Milo lol #i should give this a read through but im not. ill see all my mistakes tomorrow LOL #spider robbie au #spider noir #my art #peter benjamin parker #robbie robertson #ben urich #asks #anon #thanks for the ask!!!#hope you find your utensils alright

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madwomansapologist · 4 months

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shadowheart kinks/turn-ons | shadowheart x tav

a deep dive into what the mean gothic cleric think it's hot. yes, the brain rot is that serious.

cw: if you kink shame me i will get horny just to spite you. do i even need to say this is not for minors? if you can't understand that adults can like whatever they want to without it meaning shit about their morals then you're not welcome here.

an: so since y'all are whores that ate my gale kinks/turn-ons as if it was your last meal, there's more. granting y'all a choice: karlach or wyll next? say "thank you, mama".

NIPPLE CLAMPS

You can you see the visions, can't you? God itself told me so. The bush near my bedroom window is still burning.

Imagine it with me. Shadowheart going on with her day as one would, doing tasks around the farm and taking care of the house, and no one that looked at her would ever suspect she's wearing this.

She still wears a tiara. A different one, depicting a full moon instead of an eclipse, but still held around her head by a chain that also keeps her braids tied tighly. When the moment calls for it, she expends its use to lower on her body.

Sometimes it's about the pain. Sometimes it's about how sensitive this area of her body is, and how easily any sort of stimulation will turn into a craving.

BONDAGE

First things first: Shadowheart is a pillow princess. She earned the title. If you want a service top then Gale is your boy (so smooth, wasn't I?). Futhermore: she will be mean about it. It's written on the World Constitution: hot women can do anything they want. I don't make the rules.

Shadowheart knows she looks amazing. She prefers to be tied with black ropes. The rolls of her pale skin compared to the dark color makes it even more pleasent. She wants it to mark her skin. Shadowheart wants proof of how real everything was.

And she'll put on a show.

The pain and discomfort can be soothing. To feel helplessness, but knowing that a word from her would stop you. The immobility is a huge point for her: to not be able to move makes it easier for her mind to focus on only the pleasure.

Long sessions are a must. She wants you to take your time, get her skin ready with lotion, knot the ropes without rushing. It's occasional, but not on a daily or even weekly basis. It's a moment for you both to forget about the rest of the world. Why do it faster?

(see @/knottydevil)

Have you noticed I'm using catholic guilty logic with Shadowheart?

HUMILIATION KINK

When something about Shadowheart wasn't about shame? Teachings of loss make it clear: to pursue something, to desire something, is to be dirty. For years Shadowheart was taught to let go, embrace loss, not seek comfort or pleasure in others.

Some old habits are hard to forget.

It's different when you're the one acting on those thoughts. She's calling the shots. One word from her and you would never do that again. And still, she allows you to. Not because she feels forced to, because someone told her it was the right thing to do: but because it brings her pleasure.

Put her on a leash. Have her kneeling down, using her back as a support for your feet. Feed her. Tell her to try harder when she's already doing the best to please you. Spit on her face.

Show her that you want her so much nothing Shadowheart could ever do would make you turn your back on her. Show her time after time that you want her so fucking much dignity isn't even a concept in your head anymore. She could be on her lower, and you would still somwhow find a way to kiss her feet.

Use her shame to show her you feel none. Make her feel wanted.

CURE WOUNDS

She can be greedy, but never selfish. She cares so much about you, about your comfort and health. If you're careless or clumsy, Shadowheart will fear having a heart attack out of pure worry.

It started just as her way to make sure you weren't being negligent about your wounds. She would explore your body, handing glowing as her magic worked on you, searching for even the tiniest of scratchs.

It quickly turned into one of her favorite types of foreplay. Her hands wandering, you pretending to need her help lower, just a bit lower, Shadowheart biting your skin just to lick it clean.

Who's to say goth girls can't be playful too?

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

baldur's gate 3 taglist: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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another-fanfic-haven · 15 days

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Perfection

Link to the previous part Word count: 720 And a song :) KMFDM - Megalomaniac

You always aim for perfection, to be the best, to be first, and to be at the top of the line.

And so, you ended here as a mere rookie in the Special Tactics and Rescue Services. You tried to set your place as the someone; the youngest, the smartest, the most courageous. But it all failed. You weren't the youngest - Rebecca was by two years. And who was the smartest? Of course, it was your Captain. Let's not even start with the courage. That list would be too long, and you - at the very bottom of it.

There was one thing you excelled at - technology. Even Brad Vickers, the IT specialist was starstruck by your abilities and how you stayed glued to the screen, seemingly busy, until he noticed you used the devices to chat on Usenet and play Telnet games. All after you completed your job for the day, of course. For an untrained eye, it looked like black magic - letters and symbols flying across the screen with no sense or reason, but for you? It made perfect sense. That was your intention, to stay busy, then go home, hopefully without being scolded. You didn't have much to return to, anyway. A small studio, which you had to share. Brilliant. At least it kept the bills low.

You envied them. The look in your eyes as they returned from their missions, more often than not in soiled uniforms, scratches, and other random injuries. They seemed so proud. So victorious. You wanted that for yourself. Why did they never take you for the missions? Hell! Even Rebecca from the Bravo team was out and about more often than you! And she's just a medic! And you are well. Even if you don't know what part were you playing in the S.T.A.R.S.? An IT guy, perhaps? Computer magician? Or just someone to fill the space, ready to be made redundant on a whim.

And so, your hate and disdain slowly grew within you, making your blood boil, watching them from over your workstation screen, hearing their voices retelling the stories. God. So annoying.

You preferred the silence. If you didn't finish a task during the day, you'd eagerly stay overtime to work in piece, at your own pace, over a cup of coffee.

"What are you doing here so late?" A voice rang behind you. Before you could react, you saw someone's hand resting on the desk, just next to the keyboard you've been typing on. Your body froze - your Captain was right behind you. You ought to be standing up in attention, greeting him properly. Not freeze in place!

"I'm finishing something up, apologies." You managed to utter, feeling a lump forming in your throat. You wanted to disappear at that moment more than anything. To hell with that assignment! Tomorrow's another day.

Albert straightened up, leaning his body weight over your chair. You heard him smirk, then... felt a pat on the shoulder? His hand lingered just a while too long, but oddly not uncomfortably.

"Good job. Don't overwork yourself." He stated the last phrase seeming like a command.

You sat there for a moment longer, frozen. You just got praised? It certainly sounded like it.

You heard him chuckle, probably shaking his head. He probably stood a couple of steps away now, his arms crossed on his chest, his eyes locked on your posture from behind these dark glasses.

You were too shy to look up, maybe for the better. You just heard him hurry back into office, disappearing into the distance, stopping for a moment.

"Get some rest. It's an order, rookie." His voice carried through the deserted office before his steps disappeared around the corner. The way he pronounced your nickname, there was a hint of kindness instead of the usual snicker or a jab from your colleagues.

You nodded frantically, not sure whether he saw it or not.

You looked around the office - the buzz of the lights filling the silence, creating an even more lonely feel to the room. You turned your workstation, cleaned up the mess of papers on your desk, and turned to the exit.

That was one hell of an evening now, was it? Perhaps that cold captain is not that bad after all.

#resident evil #albert wesker #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil wesker #resident evil x reader #albert wesker x reader #re wesker #s.ta.r.s. wesker #resident evil s.t.a.r.s.#re stars #re fanfic #re fanfiction #re x reader #x reader #wesker x reader

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