#ORIGIN STORIES

[emporium]

How did you find tumblr?

I really enjoy talking with tumblr users so I thought I'd try posting more prompts to get some conversations started.

I was in a nostalgic mood this week and was trying to remember how I first came to tumblr. It got me thinking that it would be cool to learn other's origin stories. I'll go first.

Even though I'm a big nerd who loves Star Trek (DS9 4 life) and Anime (Fairy Tail forever) it was WordPress that brought me to tumblr. Back in 2010 while in college I worked part time for a WordPress theme shop called Obox Themes. They were looking for new markets and decided that tumblr themes would be a good area to get into. I fell in love with how easy it was to modify my digital home and how there was a whole community of people hacking and releasing themes. Creating a WordPress theme from scratch would have been impossible with my skillset then but with tumblr I could do anything with my handy CSS guide and a few energy drinks.

Over the years what kept bringing me back was the themes. They were funky, weird and sometimes a little broken but who cares. It seemed like the entire web was trying to be grown up but tumblr was Toys R Us, they said it’s ok to be a kid. I loved that. Whenever I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere else I’d come back to tumblr and make a new theme (https://www.tumblr.com/themes/by/nick). I use to love clicking on the installs and seeing what kind of fun folks were using my stuff. What kind of people liked the weird stuff I did. It's your turn. What brought you to tumblr?

[yourhoneyisquiet]

And so it was that every adventurer in the land from that day forward was bestowed 50 ft of rope, the primary industrial output of Port Talon.

[twopoppies]

Poll idea: when did you become a larrie (from 2010-2024)

Oh, I’ve never made a poll, but that’s a fun idea. Except it won’t let me put that many choices, so I’ll have to combine the years a bit.

If you’d like, give us some specific details in the tags. What brought you in? Which year specifically?

Please boost for a bigger sample size.

Also, don’t come for me. The highlights are just off the top of my head, not everything that happened each year)

[beautification-tales]

Late Bloomer

Penny often found herself standing in front of the mirror, examining her reflection with a critical eye. Her hair, dark and wavy, fell just past her shoulders; her eyes, a deep shade of green, were framed by long lashes. She had auburn freckles dotting the bridge of her nose, high cheekbones, and a mouth that was naturally curved into a frown. Her build was average; she wasn't thin, but she wasn't overweight either. She lived at home with her mother and often wondered if she was adopted.

Her mother, Janet, on the other hand, was nothing short of stunning. At the age of forty-five, she could easily pass for thirty. She had long, luscious hair that fell in perfect waves around her shoulders, and her deep brown eyes were framed by long, thick lashes. Her figure was enviable, with a tiny waist, full breasts, and hips that swayed whenever she walked. Even now, when Penny was in college and Janet had been a stay-at-home mom for years, men still turned their heads whenever she stepped out of the house.

It was almost every day that Janet brought a man home. Sometimes they were neighbors, other times they were colleagues, or even complete strangers she had met at the grocery store. It didn't matter who they were; they all seemed to be drawn to her mother's irresistible charm and beauty. Penny, on the other hand, often felt invisible in comparison. She knew she was pretty in her own way, but she couldn't help but feel like she was overshadowed by her mother's presence. Penny enjoyed the excuse of her studies as it let her out of the house. She couldn’t really study with the noises her mother and her “guest” would make all night.

Penny's life began to change when she met Roger at the school library. He was a classmate who was always fun to talk to, and they quickly became friends. They shared similar interests, like reading comics and anime, and they often found themselves spending time together outside of class. As they got to know each other better, Penny began to see herself through Roger's eyes. He thought she was beautiful and unique, and he made her feel special in ways that no one else could.

One day, Penny made the mistake of bringing Roger to her home. She was excited to show him where she came from and introduce him to her mother, but she hadn't expected the consequences. Janet came home dressed in a tight black dress as her ample bosom shook with each step as her ankle boots hit each step. Penny could see Roger gulp as he eyed her mother with a look that Penny had seen so many times before.

“Well, well, well look what little Penny brought home.” Janet said as she approached them on the couch.

Roger jumped up and offered his hand to shake. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Johnson."

Penny's eyes widened at the mention of her mother's last name. It was the first time anyone had called her by that name since she was a little girl. "Mom, this is Roger. We've been friends for a while now," she said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Well, Roger, it's nice to finally meet you," Janet said, her voice low and seductive. She placed a hand on Roger's arm, as Roger smiled . Penny couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. "I understand you two have been studying together a lot lately. How nice."

"Yeah, we've had some pretty interesting discussions," Roger replied, not taking his eyes off Janet.

Penny felt her heart sink as she watched the interaction between her mother and Roger. She knew exactly where this was going, and she didn't want it to happen. But she didn't know how to stop it. As the conversation continued, Janet leaned in closer to Roger, laughing at something he said. Penny could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed nervously.

“Little Penny has always been a shy girl. She hardly talks to boys unless you count Naruto or any of those Anime characters on the tv she’s always watching.”

Penny’s face grew red with embarrassment as Janet talked about her. “Mom! Really?” She protested.

Janet gave Penny a knowing smile. "Oh, don't worry, dear. You know your mother only has your best interests at heart." She reached over and gave Penny's cheek a soft pat. "Now, why don't I give you two some privacy.”

“ Ms. Johnson you don’t have to go. I mean I would like to hear more embarrassing stories.”

Roger's words cut through Penny like a knife. She felt a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal. How could he want to hear more about her mother? Wasn't he supposed to be her friend?

“Oh no, unfortunately I have a date tonight. So I better get going but Roger… you can call me Janet.”

Penny felt her anger rising as she watched her mother saunter away, making sure to sway her hips just enough for Roger to get a good view. She wanted to scream, to hit something, to make this all stop. But instead, she turned to Roger and felt a lump forming in her throat. "Roger, I-I thought you would be different.”

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw regret flicker across his features. But then he smiled, a sad, forced smile that did nothing to reassure her. "I am different," he said, his voice quiet. "But Penny, I'm also a guy. And, well... your mom is like remarkably hot. It's kind of hard not to notice."

“Yeah, trust me every guy notices and it pisses me off. Now you can see why I don’t talk to guys!” Penny felt a rage that had been building inside her finally explode within her as tears began to roll down her face.

Roger looked conflicted as he glanced at her, then away. Finally, he moved closer, taking her hands in his. "Penny, I'm sorry. I really like you and trust me I notice you.”

Penny smiled believing Roger’s words she leaned forward and kissed him.

Her heart beat faster as they continued to kiss. She could feel the heat between them, and it seemed to intensify with each passing moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in the sensation of his lips on hers, his hands tangled in her hair. It was as if they were the only two people in the world, and nothing else mattered.

As their lips parted, she looked into his eyes, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something shift within him. His pupils were dilated, his skin flushed. It was as if she'd unleashed something primal inside him. She felt a thrill of power course through her veins, and she knew that she was the one who'd done it.

Penny’s eyes began to glow as she inhaled Roger’s breath. Penny didn’t notice as her body instinctively breathed in the air. They stopped kissing as Penny continued to suck the air from Roger’s lungs. Roger in a trance continued to exhale but in a moment he collapsed as Penny became aware of her surroundings.

She released Roger and gasped as she looked at him on the floor. However, before she could tend to him , she felt a burning sensation all over her body. It started as a tingle, but quickly grew into an all-consuming fire. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. Her limbs felt heavy, and her vision blurred. She could feel her skin begin to char and peel, revealing raw, bloody flesh beneath.

The pain was excruciating, and she thought that she was dying. But it was then the pain subsided as she felt her skin heal revealing tan unblemished skin. The transformation no longer felt painful as her body felt brand new in this new skin.

Her breasts felt fuller and heavier as they strained against the fabric of her shirt. She could feel them still growing as buttons popped off her shirt making room for her new bosom. She felt her hips widen, and her ass grow rounder. She glanced down at her hands, marveling at the softness of her new tan skin and the delicate length of her fingernails. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she could swear it felt thicker and more lustrous.

She felt the pleasure within her grow as unable to fight the feeling her hips began to gyrate as if she was giving a lap dance to a lucky patron. Penny’s moans filled the home rousing Roger to consciousness. Her voice began to shift to a melodic tone. She picked up speed as her thighs got even thicker and her ass even juicier. She looked back in joy as she felt her tongue roll out of her mouth.

Her eyes shifted to Roger as he looked at her with awe. His eyes traced her body as if he was seeing her for the first time. Penny's heart fluttered as she saw the desire in his eyes. She wanted to please him, to make him feel the way she felt. She moved closer to him, her breasts brushing against his chest.

Her scent, a heady mix of jasmine and feminine musk, filled his nostrils, making it difficult for him to think straight. His hands reached up, cupping her breasts through her shirt, feeling their weight and fullness. She arched her back, pushing her chest further into his hands.

Her hips continued to move in a hypnotic circle, her ass cheeks slapping against his thighs as she ground herself against him. He could feel his arousal growing, straining against his pants. His gaze dropped lower, taking in the curve of her spine, the roundness of her ass, the softness of her skin.

Penny moaned, the sound vibrating against his chest as she arched her back even further. Her breasts spilled free from her shirt, their fullness pressing against his chest. He cupped them, feeling their weight in his hands, before running his thumbs over her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her.

Her movements grew more urgent, her hips undulating faster as she ground herself against him. Her skin glistened with sweat, her cheeks flushed. He could see the desire in her eyes, the need for him to touch her, to make her feel good.

He moved his hands to her hips, guiding her as she continued to grind against him. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each breath. He could feel his own control slipping, the need to be inside her growing stronger with each passing moment.

With a swift motion, he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and freed his aching erection. Penny moaned loudly, the sound filling the room as she took in the sight of him, hard and ready for her. He pulled her shirt off over her head, revealing her soft, tan skin. Her breasts, full and round, spilled free from her bra, her nipples hard and peaked.

She reached down, taking him in her hand, stroking him gently at first before wrapping her fingers around him and beginning to stroke faster, her movements in perfect rhythm with her hips. Roger gasped, feeling the pleasure coursing through him as he watched her touch him, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her breasts swayed with each breath, brushing against his chest as she moved closer, their nipples teasing him. Her hips gyrated, her ass cheeks slapping against his thighs, driving him wild with desire. He could feel the head of his cock brushing against her wetness, and with a groan, he pushed her back onto the bed, burying himself inside her in one powerful thrust.

She cried out, arching her back as he filled her completely. Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on as their hips met in a frenzied rhythm. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each breath as she looked up at him, their eyes locked in a passionate gaze.

Roger felt his control slipping further away with each thrust, each moan that escaped Penny's lips. He leaned forward, burying his face in her neck, inhaling her scent as he savored the feel of her body moving beneath him. His hips pumped harder, faster, driving deeper inside her with each stroke.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his back, urging him to go faster, harder. He obliged, feeling the pleasure building within him, the pressure growing in his groin. He could feel his release building, the urge to empty himself inside her overwhelming.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, their breaths mingling as they gasped for air. Roger's thrusts grew more frenzied, his hips slamming into her with unbridled passion. Penny arched her back off the bed, her eyes clenched shut as she felt the waves of pleasure wash over her.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on, begging for more. Her legs squeezed tight around his waist, her body tensing as she neared her own release. Roger could feel it building within her, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust. He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples between his lips, sucking hard as he continued to drive into her.

Their skin slapped together, their sweat mingling as they moved together in perfect rhythm. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each ragged intake of air. His own breaths grew labored, his hips thrusting harder, faster. He could feel the end approaching, the inevitable release building inside him.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching off the bed, her breasts flushed and peak. Her legs squeezed tight around him, her muscles tensing as she neared her own climax. With a moan that escaped deep from her throat, she came, her body tensing and shuddering beneath him.

Roger felt the tension in her release, the wave of pleasure that passed through her, and with a groan, he gave in to his own release, thrusting deep inside her one final time. His hips bucked, his body tensed, and he let out a hoarse cry as he emptied himself inside her.

Their bodies trembled together, their hearts racing, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. They collapsed in each other arms oblivious to their surroundings.

They were awakened by a returning Janet giggling with her new boy toy for the night.

"Penny! Roger! In the living room?”

Roger's eyes snapped open, and he realized they were still in the same position they had been in before their passionate interlude. Penny's head was resting on his chest, her hand lazily tracing circles on his stomach. He gently prodded her awake. "Umm... Penny?" he whispered.

She lifted her head and smiled drowsily at him. "Hmm?"

"Your mom is home!”

“Penny did you fuck in the living room?”

Penny giggled, nuzzling back into Roger's chest. "Not exactly, Mom. We were just..." She trailed off, blushing deeply. "Um, we were just talking."

Janet's voice grew louder as she walked down the hall, the sound of her footsteps drawing closer. Penny closed her eyes, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "Oh, God," she whispered. "She's going to kill us."

Roger chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. "I don't think she'll kill us," he said. "But she might be a little upset." He rolled off her, and pulled his pants and underwear.

Penny stood up now taller and curvaceous. Janet stopped in her tracks as she examined her daughter.

"Well, well, well. Look at you two. Did you have fun in here?" she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and disapproval.

“It’s about time you finally transformed Penny.”

[novankenn]

Spirits of Vengeance...

(1)- the Rider (Yang)

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!!" Yang screamed at the shadows inside the garage at her family home on Patch. "WE HAD A DEAL!"

"We did..." came a sinister almost hissing voice from all about her. "and I kept up my end."

"How? How did you? Mom is gone! She's gone!" Yang wailed tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I brought her back, like you asked..." the voice informed the distraught young woman. "We never agreed on how long she would stay..."

"So it was you!" Yang pushed down her sorrow and latched on to the burning rage with in her heart. "You did that to her and Ruby!"

"I did not." the voice replied. "I do not HURT my investments."

"I'm not an investment!"

"Oh my dear, dear Yang... yes you are."

"Bring them both back! I'll make another deal! Just bring them back!"

"I'm sorry my little sun-dragon... but you only get one deal."

"You can do it!" Yang wailed "You did it once you can do it again!"

"I'm sorry Yang... but without a deal... I can't..."

"But..." Yang collapsed to her knees , wrapping her arms around herself in a vain attempt to stop her shaking. "Why... why..."

"I wish I could tell you why..." the voice answered. "I truly do, but I have no answers for you... at least not yet."

"Yet?" Yang looked up to see a set of ominous and sinister glowing eyes in the deepest shadows of the garage. "What... what?"

"I have a job for you... and while you work to complete it... I'll find out the why and who of what happened to your mother and sister... deal?"

"Wait... you said no more..."

"This is not the same type of deal you made with me ten years ago..." the voice replied, "This is more of a verbal agreement. You do something for me... I'll do something for you."

"I... I..."

"Yang, my little sun-dragon... you really have no choice. I made an investment in you. I nurtured you strength, and wellness. I empowered you... now I aim to collect..."

"I won't..."

"You will. You have no choice... though if you... willingly choose to complete this task... I can do things in return... like find your mom and sister... so... what is your choice?"

"You swear?" Yang choked out as she forced herself to her feet. "You swear if I do this you will find them?"

"Have I EVER broken a promise to you?" the voice asked in response. "Will you be my rider?"

"Yes..." Yang answered with a shaking voice.

"Say it!"

"Yes, I will be your Rid.... ARGH!!!!!" Yang twisted about, pain shredding through her body. She staggered and fell to her knees as smoke began to flicker about her body. Wispy tongues of orange flame licked about her flesh, and she shrieked in agony.

"The change gets easier... with time." the voice commented as Yang's pale flesh melted and then was charred away. Floating into the air as specks of ash.

The sounds of her screams had never left the garage. The shadows having deadened them into complete silence... so there was no one but it to witness as the once vibrant beauty rose to her feet. All her exposed flesh was gone, leaving nothing but gleaming bone wreathed in flickering flames. Her once long golden locks now nothing but a cascade of rolling flames.

"Go. Vale. Her name is Trivia Vanille, though she goes more by Neo nowadays." the Rider turned it blazing eyes towards the origin of the sinister voice. "She is not wat she appears to be. Send her home."

"Send. Her. Home." the Rider hissed out in a guttural voice, before it moved forward towards her alternate body's pride and joy. As soon as its flaming fingers touched the motorcycle, flames leap forward and coiled about it. Slowly the formerly sleek street bike twisted taking a shape more inline with its new owner.

With a hissing snarl the Rider gunned the engine and tore out of the garage and down the short driveway, leaving a trail of flickering flames as it went.

The red eyes watched the Rider leave, before they too faded away.

(Master List)

[johnschneiderblog]

Embrace it!

Yep, I've been sauntering through The Void (embracethevo.id) - a shiny new website for Lord Huron fans who favor the deep dive.

It's fancier than a nickel-plated six-shooter.

So far Tubbs Tarbell has spun an entertaining yarn about how he discovered the Bubs, then invited fans to tell their LH origin stories, which also makes for lively reading. The art that accompanies many of these stories is particularly impressive.

You can believe the World Enders are on it like jingle-jangle on spurs.

[multifandominfj]

Give it to me now, Disney! 🙏🏻

[sunburnacoustic]

Piano was the first instrument I really played. I didn’t have any lessons, and though I tinkered with it since I was five, I didn’t really get interested until I was ten or 11. My dad used to play a lot of blues records, Ray Charles, and Stevie Wonder.

Ray Charles was the one that stuck out; I used to work on my left hand to “What’d I Say” in sort of this boogie-woogie style. I spent ages working that out, practicing the left hand doing one thing and trying to do chords with the right hand.

I went into a talent contest and played a solo version of that piece and actually won the contest. My older brother forced me into this talent contest and, though I was too nervous to do it, I did it anyway. It made me want to get out there and get some gigs and get in a band. When I first got into a band when I was about 13 or 14, I didn’t play piano for about six years because I just got so into the guitar.

Matt on his 'piano story' | "Innocence And Absolution", Keyboard Magazine, June 2005

[alstroemeriatea]

Malus Pumila Collection: A Lucilith Origin Story

───── ⋆⋅⛧⋅⋆ ─────

hey you!! hyperfixating on lucilith from hazbin hotel?? (the couple with less than one whole minute of screen time :') )

i have just the set of fics for you! the malus pumila collection is a set of six stories that currently read as complete. this collection tells the story of how lucifer and lilith met, fell in love with one another, and rose to power in Hell before having their daughter. there are POVs for both Lilith and Lucifer, as well as a range of different ratings.

if you like references to greek mythology, classic renaissance literature, and abrahamic mythology, then this is the series for you!

series excerpt below:

───── ⋆⋅⛧⋅⋆ ─────

Life courses through us; we solidify it in mundane ways. A silver ring, a burning hearth: a vow, a whisper of something yet to come. Between new royalty, they’re known to favor a kiss to the thigh, traced in skeins of white silk. Magic reverberates through their bodies, in their bed, and between their lips.

From a burning descent, new life was made. A palace was built, and a Prince became a King, wings severed from his back. A Regina sprinted from Eden, favoring her chosen in turn. A covenant was made in the name of makerism, adoration, and creation.

[Pomegranate juice stains, you know. It’s far more viscous than blood, the way it travels and trails in rivulets down your wrist. It’s sweet and tart in tandem, and with time may grow bitter on the back of your tongue.]

Actions often compliment the truth. The verity of life can be ugly and harsh in ways that break our integrity.

Their vow was no exception.

───── ⋆⋅⛧⋅⋆ ─────

[edithshead]

Christy Turlington by Denis Piel for Vogue Italia, February 1986

[starryeyed-spacegirl]

"This Chapter Consists of Backstory Exposition and Origin Stories"

As We Fall, Chapter 43, is Posted!!

The warning's in the title!! But it's juicy stuff, so I hope you enjoy it anyway :))

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina, I have a poll idea that I'd like to share, so maybe you can make it if you think it'd be interesting!

So I was thinking a "how I joined the fandom" poll (all of these apply to both the band and any of the boys' solo stuff, except ofc the xfactor and larry one), with choices like

• saw them on xfactor

• heard their music on the radio/any streaming app and liked their music

• heard of them from a friend/acquaintance and were curious

• saw their photograph in a newspaper/article etc and found them attractive

• read an article/interview about/with them and they seemed interesting/likable

• saw them in an interview /concert video and they seemed fun people

• saw larry videos and were intrigued/wanted to learn about the theories/ shipped them

• other (please specify in the tags)

It'd basically show what drew fans in: their looks, their music, dynamic, personalities, relationships etc etc.

I'm personally super curious to know everyone's answers so I hope you wouldn't mind doing this Gina! If you can think of any other answers feel free to add to, or rephrase any of the choices!

Oh, that’s a fun idea.

Please reblog to get a broader response.

[beautification-tales]

The Confession

A Corruption Tale

Debra entered the confessional booth. She bit her nail nervously waiting for the priest to open his window. She was used to the routine of confessing her sins but this time it was different. She heard the father slide open the cover. The wooden designs still remained allowing for her to be somewhat hidden from being seen, yet the darkness beyond was suffocating.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession.” Debra's voice trembled, echoing slightly in the enclosed space. She paused, gathering her thoughts. She swallowed and took a deep breath.

“What troubles you, my child?” The priest's voice was warm, a gentle coaxing that usually brought her comfort. But today, it did little to ease the tightness in her chest. She clasped her hands together as she trembled slightly before finally speaking. “I have a classmate that I… have had sinful thoughts of.”

Her eyes remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet the unseen priest's gaze. The words felt like molten lead as they spilled from her lips. “The thoughts have been extremely explicit and uhh erotic in nature.” She paused, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Father Thomas leaned slightly forward, his brow furrowed with concern. “Tell me more, Debra. What is it about this classmate that tempts you so?” His voice remained calm, a beacon of understanding in the shadowed booth. Debra felt her body become warm as she thought about the man once again. “Father, I am so ashamed but it’s his body. I lust after him.” She took another deep breath. “I imagine us together in ways that are not holy. I’ve seen him at the gym, his muscles flexing, sweat glistening on his skin, and I can’t help but wonder how it would feel to touch him, to kiss him.”

The priest’s silence was palpable. Debra felt her heart hammering in her chest, the echoes resonating through the small space. She waited for his judgment, her mind racing with fear and desire. “Continue, my child,” he finally said, his voice a whisper of calm in the sea of her anxiety.

“One night in my bed I thought about him. I imagined kissing him and him touching me.” Debra’s voice grew softer, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. She could feel the heat radiating from her body, and she was sure the priest could hear her racing heart. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, trying to put into words the tumultuous storm of desire that raged within her. “I dreamt of his hands sliding under my clothes, of his mouth on my neck, and... and...” she trailed off, unable to go further.

Father Thomas leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “It’s natural to have these thoughts, Debra, the trouble is fighting the urge to act on them.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “But father… I did act on them.” Debra’s voice was barely a whisper now, and she felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.

“The dream was so… vivid and my body felt like it was on fire. As the fantasy continued… I realized that I was touching myself.” Debra’s voice was barely a murmur, the words escaping through clenched teeth as if they were physically painful to speak. She could feel the priest’s gaze on her, even though she couldn’t see his face through the screen.

Father Thomas’s expression remained unchanged, his voice a calm and steady presence in the darkness. “Do you truly feel guilt for doing such a thing?” He leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper that seemed to wrap around her confession like a warm embrace. She could hear him inhale deeply as if a new aroma had filled the booth.

Debra nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Yes, Father. I feel...dirty." The confession was like a weight lifted from her shoulders, but the fear of divine retribution remained, a leaden presence in her gut. She waited for his condemnation, the fire and brimstone that she knew she deserved.

“How did it feel during? Did you enjoy it?” Father Thomas’s question was unexpected, but it hung in the air, demanding an answer. Debra felt a flicker of confusion. Was he supposed to ask that? But she was too far gone to hold back now.

“Yes Father, I enjoyed it,” Debra admitted, her voice trembling. The admission was like a dam breaking, releasing a flood of emotions she had been trying to suppress. She felt a mix of relief and terror, the dichotomy of confession. The tingle she had felt that night had returned as she bit her lip.

“Did you orgasm?” Father Thomas’s voice was firm but not judgmental. His question was matter-of-fact, a clinical inquiry into the depth of her transgression. “I… I don’t know… I think I did. Father, why does that matter?” Debra’s voice was shaky, her eyes pleading through the darkened screen for some kind of reprieve.

“Because every orgasm will make you more addicted to the feeling. Do you feel it now? The tingling in your pussy?” Father Thomas’s voice grew deeper, more intense. Debra felt a warm flush spread through her body, her heart racing as she nodded. “Yes, Father… What’s wrong with me?”

“You are a slut my child. You need to be taught the error of your ways before you go down the path of sin and temptation further,” Father Thomas’s voice grew darker, his tone harsher. Debra’s eyes widened, her breath coming in short gasps as she felt a sudden jolt of fear mingled with a strange excitement. The priest’s unexpected words were like a forbidden fruit, tempting and terrifying all at once.

“Touch yourself and let me watch. Show me how you indulged in your sinful desires that night,” Father Thomas instructed, his voice a command that Debra found impossible to resist. Her trembling hands slowly slid down her stomach, under her skirt, and found the damp fabric of her panties. The coolness of the confessional booth contrasted with the heat that was building within her.

Her fingers hovered for a moment, the fabric feeling foreign against her sensitive skin. She glanced at the screen, the priest’s eyes seemingly boring into her soul through the darkness. She bit her lip and obeyed, sliding her panties aside. The sudden exposure sent a shiver down her spine. The confessional was a sanctified space, and here she was, committing a sin that was more intimate than any she had ever confessed.

“How does it feel?” Father Thomas’s question was laced with a hint of curiosity, his voice low and gruff. Debra’s hand trembled as she touched herself, her fingertips grazing the soft folds of her sex. She felt a wave of wetness, and her body responded to her own touch, betraying her own moral convictions.

“It feels so good! How can it feel so good?” Debra’s voice was filled with a mix of anguish and arousal. Her hand grew bolder, her fingers dipping into her wetness and exploring the sensitive landscape of her own desire. The priest’s words seemed to hang in the air, a seductive incantation that she couldn’t resist.

“Yes Ungh be a bad girl for me!” Father Thomas’s words grew harsher, his breathing labored as he listened to Debra whimpering. She couldn’t hold it back as she let a moan escape her lips. She heard a slapping noise and groan coming from the other side of the confessional booth.

Debra moaned louder as she realized that Father Thomas was pleasuring himself. The sound of his hand moving rapidly against his erection was unmistakable, and the thought of the holy man indulging in his own desires because of her was intoxicating. She felt a thrill of power, her own hand moving faster as she listened to his heavy breathing. The wood of the confessional booth creaked as she shifted in her seat, the sound mingling with the wetness of her own touch.

“Father! I want your cum! Cum for me!” The words slipped from Debra’s mouth, a seductive invocation that seemed to fill the confessional with an almost tangible heat. She didn’t know where this wantonness was coming from, but it felt so liberating, so wrong in all the right ways. Her fingers danced over her clit, the pleasure building like a crescendo.

She heard him roar as his hand stilled, the sound of his release muffled by the barrier between them. Her own climax hit her like a bolt of lightning, the sensation ripping through her body as she bucked against her hand. She panted, the aftershocks of pleasure washing over her like a wave.

The aroma of her fluids and his seed filled her nostrils. Debra felt energized and powerful. Her body still trembled with the aftermath of her orgasm. She didn’t know what to expect next. Would Father Thomas reprimand her? Or would he continue to indulge her? The silence was deafening.

“Unh… what did you do to me?” Father Thomas’s voice was shaky, his breathing heavy. Debra felt a thrill of power, her hand still resting on her wetness. “You controlled me like some witch! Your sinfulness has corrupted even a man of God!” He slammed his fist on the wooden barrier between them, making Debra jump.

Debra ran out of the confessional, her heart racing and her cheeks burning with a mix of guilt and arousal. She didn’t look back as she rushed through the quiet church, the echoes of her footsteps and the priest’s gasps of pleasure still ringing in her ears. The cool evening air hit her like a slap in the face as she burst through the doors, gasping for breath.

“What have I done?” Debra asked herself.

Back inside the church Father Thomas was still talking to the other side of the booth. His attention was so focused on the voice that was commanding him during the session with Debra. “Answer me! What are you?” He commanded.

The mysterious woman laughed from behind the wood lattice of her booth. “Oh Thomas, you should be thanking me. All of that pent up desire within you hmmm it was delicious. But don’t worry you’re not my target.”

[nikarodrigues]

The Wheel of Time Origins > Ajahs > Aes Sedai

[novankenn]

Spirits of Vengeance...

(2)- the Punisher (Jaune)

He watched the comings and goings through the side door of the dilapidated and boarded up store front, from the driver side mirror of his battered black panel van.

It had been five months since the loss of his wife and children to a White Fang firebombing in Atlas. Four months since he used his incomplete Special Operations training to hunt down those vermin. Four months since he did what Atlas' authorities seemed impotent to do.

At twenty-years of age, Jaune Arc had thrown his promising military career, the connections to his still living parents and sisters... for a singular driving goal. To end those that hurt others. To punish those that preyed on the innocent.

"I've seen enough. It's a safe house." he mumbled to himself as he rose from the driver's seat and climbed into the cluttered back of his mobile home. Removing his coat he proceeded to prepare himself.

The first was his tactical vest, followed by several magazines and clips in their proper places, ending with his armaments. A sawed off pump-cation shotgun, a .44 caliber pistol, and finally a well modified military issued assault rifle.

"It's time." he mumbled to no one as he took one final look at his intended target through the back windows of his van. The pair of doors swung open and he stepped out. His highly polished combat boots splashing muddy stale water as his feet made contact with the pavement.

He moved quickly, and with purpose. Reaching the unguarded entrance in just a few seconds. With his back against the wall on the opening side of the door, he pulled a small cylinder like object from a side pocket of his cargo pants. The door squeaked feebly as he pulled it open just enough. Propping it ajar with the toe of his boot, he pulled the pin... and tossed the object into the entryway.

The door swung closed and he turned his head to the side. A couple of seconds later there was a muffled bang, followed by pained and startled shouts. Viciously yanking the door open he stepped inside.

With practiced precision he brought his weapon up and into position. His left index finger ghosting over the trigger of the AR. He moved through the lower floor of the building, his head on a swivel, his weapon up and ready. His finger tapping the trigger.

The AR barked at his commend, unleashing short bursts of brass jacketed rounds into any and every figure he encountered. Blood splattered walls and the floor. Faunus wearing the signature White Fang mask fell along side suited men and women wearing red ties.

In the space of three minutes Jaune had pacified the first floor of the building. Finding the door to the basement, he lobbed another flash-bang down the narrow flight of stairs. With a muffled thump it went off... followed by silence.

Finding the door to the stairwell to the upper floors boarded off, told him he was done. Letting his AR hanging from it's combat sling he moved through the macabre scene of slaughter without pause. Finding a over turned folding table, he knelt down and began to sort through the scatter papers, and maps.

"Now what's all this?" he mumbled to himself as he scanned each piece with his cold remorseless eyes. Finding the marked up maps of Vale interesting, he gathered them. Standing he stepped over the corpses he had created and walked out of the building.

A couple minutes later the van started up, and slowly rolled off, vanishing into the dimly lit streets of Vale's waterfront district.

(Master List)