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runaeveena · 8 months

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Your dashboard if you were in a d&d fantasy world still involved in fictional erotica discourse part 2

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

now that the new Mountain Angel volume has come out can we please tag spoilers, some of us are still waiting for our pigeon mail

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

you can access the volume in full on TomePlane!

🎭 bardcampistrash Follow

until TomePlane acknowledges that its interplanar storage is made possible by binding aboleths to the plane and killing them then we are going to continue not using that platform, thanks

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

aboleths killed my cousin who was a royal cleric. ill never understand why theres a whole movement to protect abyssal creatures when theyve caused so much damage to our kingdoms. and disliking a pocket dimension which provides thousands of people access to books? your attitude reeks of anti literaturism and mal-aligned virtue signaling and im not sure which is worse

🫒 tenthday237 Follow

Aliizya gets pregnant on page 62

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

banished

620 Notes

🏰 finchtruther Follow

okay but the way that faelor finch writes every song that perfectly fits pennbiel liiike its giving closet fangirl

🧭 waywardwarlock

seriouslyy!! like what else is "give me your unmarked hand / in the shadowfell we won't be a secret" supposed to be about if not pennipher and corabiel

16 Notes

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

yall please dont fill up the unseen servant tag with your super fucking weird smut posts im just looking for tips on how to find my unseen servant

🪡 scç-writer

the search function on tomeblr does need to be updated but we dont have to kinkshame :)

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

the site is being overrun by virgin degenerates

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

sounds like you need Wilam the Wizard with Wandering Hands to help you summon the unseen stick in your ass

290 Notes

🗝️ crypt-princess Follow

so whose going to be the first to commission a painting of that scene with Aliizya and the beholder 👀

🍎 bloodmaledickening Follow

i already asked my local artisan he said he's gotten two other commissions for the same scene lmao

🐁 softbarbarian

girl i commissioned a tapestry

45 Notes

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

friendly reminder that devil deals are a real thing that a lot of people fall victim too and that demons are malicious and do destroy peoples lives if theyre not careful so please be careful when consuming works like Hellionfinity which romanticizes devil deals and fiendish soul contracts

🌾entangled-farmer Follow

imo any work of fiction that involves a romance between any type of fiend is not just problematic but harmful

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

i used to be indifferent to books that had devil romance interests because like thats their whole thing theyre seducing people to get their souls and the mc overcomes it, but reading through the replies i see that Hellionfinity actually ends with the devil character as the main romantic lead which is super problematic in terms of power imbalance and the fact that he has a redemption arc is so out of touch especially since our military is finally recovering from the azgurian assault

🧚🏻‍♂️arms-of-faelor

helliofinity also has a scene where the main character uses a soul coin that an imprisoned mortal gave him and he uses it to bring the devil out of avernus so he doesnt fully die and no one in the book mentions it or talks about how messed up it is to use soul coins and we never see the now bound to hell prisoner ever again

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

hellionfinity officially cancelled on my end!

88 Notes

☘️ celest-ial Follow

moment of silence for all the customers waiting on drink orders while the tavern wench gets her back blown out by a new guy every night ✊😔

🦁 king-killa Follow

the gods work hard but Girthy Gladys gets worked harder

57,022 Notes

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

paladin and warlock romances are OUT! cleric and necromancer romances are IN!

🪭 royalcoinpurse Follow

the only thing a cleric should do to a necromancer is beat him to death so she can revive him and kill him again

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

❇️ arch-dryad Follow

i think we need to analyze why we're so quick to place women in categories of devious seductress or healer in romance novels as if that hasnt been the pervasive trope that holds magic-touched women back in our actual society

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

why do you assume these fictional tropes are mf couples only? can a gay cleric not beat his gay necromancer boyfriend to death?

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

and off! beat him off cmon guys

5,275 Notes

🧀 weremouse Follow

yall ever be talking or whatnot and feel like no one understands you

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛄᚠ ᛡᚢ ᚳᚪᚾ ᚱᛁᛞ ᚦᛄᛋ ᛡᚢ ᚺᚪᚠ ᛏᚢ ᚱᛁᛒᛚᚪᚷ ᚦᛄᛋ

🧀 weremouse Follow

say that shit fr (<- looking around clueless)

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛋᛁᚱᛁᚪᛋᛚᛁ

60 Notes

🌠 crownofstars

remember when that person made a call out post for the author of ilairepeler for using a ghost writer and it turned out the author was an actual ghost. writing. like a literal ghost writer. like.

🍄gnomestool Follow

arent you the dwarf that fucked a slaad

🌠 crownofstars

how would you like to become a ghost so you can write more witty comments like this for eternity

301 Notes

#round two please laff i did this at work #fantasy dashboard #tumblr dashboard meme #dungeons and dragons #d&d #bg3 #dungeon meshi #my post

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reddpenn · 1 year

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Your whole rock collection is a slay. Show me some funky pieces you haven't been asked about yet!!!!

Here’s a rock I’ve been dying to talk about! This little guy is orthoclase feldspar! You might be familiar with the feldspar family, as it contains gemstones such as sunstone, moonstone, labradorite, and amazonite. What’s really, really interesting about this piece of feldspar is its shape. This cool formation is called a Carlsbad Twin. Let me tell you about it!

Feldspar crystals often form as flat-topped, six-sided prisms which are strongly skewed sideways. Here’s an example of another feldspar in my collection, amazonite, which shows off this crystal habit really clearly!

The two crystals in my piece of orthoclase are making that common feldspar shape! But you’ve probably also noticed how they appear to be mirror images of each other, and also growing through each other.

That’s Carlsbad twinning!! It’s a type of penetration twinning, which means the crystals appear to be penetrating or passing through each other. But looks can be deceiving; what's ACTUALLY happening here is much cooler. These crystals are conjoined twins! One hasn’t penetrated the other; they’re actually sharing some of their molecules like human conjoined twins might share organs.

This can happen because of the shape of feldspar’s crystal lattice - the orderly arrangement of its molecules.

The crystal lattice won't match up perfectly throughout the entire structure, but it WILL match up right along the C axis, where we flipped it. Along this line the grid of molecules aligns, and our twin crystals can share them. The place where lattice points are shared is called the composition surface.

Simply put, molecules don’t know what shape they’re making on a macro level. The shapes they make are by complete accident, because that just happens to be what shape you get when you arrange molecules in that kind of grid. The only thing the molecules know is how they can connect to other molecules. It doesn’t matter to them which direction the crystal is growing in, or which direction the crystal lattice is facing. If they can connect up in a way that completely flips the crystal lattice, well... they don't know they're doing that! They're just doing what molecules do!

And that’s how you get Carlsbad Twins!

#red pen has cool rocks #rock collecting #orthoclase #feldspar #carlsbad twin #i feel like i'm explaining this badly #because crystal twinning is really complicated #and i'm trying very hard to simplify it #and i don't think i'm succeeding #talkin' bout rocks

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beomnoullistheorem · 4 months

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INTO YOU

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Non-idol AU — Hook-up!Kai × AFAB!Hook-up!Reader

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Appetizer — Kai is too much into you, sexually and soulfully. Even after thrice the times he fucked you, he doesn't wanna end this. It's like he wants to keep you, but how? He wants you more and more the times he's with you, will he ask you out?

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Disclaimer — This is PURE FICTION : Nothing in this work aligns with the idols' character, moral and their real life. The characters are all legal adults ( 18+ ) and everything happening around & to them is entirely consensual. Readers are humbly advised to read the Contains and Disclaimer before they read.

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Word Count — 3k+

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Contains — barely-any-plot SMUT : mdni! Unprotected sex ( of course but don't! ), missionary, make outs, nipple play, dirty talk ( idk! My first time writing it!! ), begging fetish, Kai's rough, Soft-Dominant!Kai, Submissive!Reader, breeding fetish, Kai is whiny when he cums, and idk. Lemme know if I should add more.

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Noulli's note — this shitty drabble was backed up by my special moot @soobinsonly1bf , thanks my dear twin, without you this might have been the crappiest piece ever! I love you so much already😭 and tagging @jeongin-lvr and @hyhkai ( cause you both rooted for it, tysm lovelies ). I also half-assed in the last cause I have no idea to end a smut. And Idk what I wrote, went along with my fingers so bear with it (T^T).

His lips tickle yours like a feather brushing at it, his hand only pull you into his warmth, while the other tucked your hair behind your ears. His perfect narrow eyes are slightly open, only to get a slight look at you tembling at the slight collision of your lips with his, sitting beside, but rubbing your thighs together. Your body quivers everywhere, and the thing is, he hasn't done anything yet, and you're this desperate for him. Just as perfectly as he wants.

"Want a minute?" His question is absolutely ridiculous considering how his hands take up the job to elicit goosebumps on your body, that touch jolting you up from every where it traverses, having you gulp your saliva down your throat. Your heartbeat even echoes, syncing with his, in that pin-drop quiet room. His kisses on your lips are continuos, perfectly embracing them to never let you go, he whiffs you with his panting breath, to let you know, he is wholly into this, into you.

Your eyes meet his with the look he has never seen before. the doe's they curve into, pleading and drowning themselves into his orbs; your pupils holding back a fiery lust that darkens your gaze and yet glistens with something mysterious, actually something sweet when he kisses you, or at the slightest touch he delivers on your body. His hands slip in your red lacy crop top as he squeezes your underbust and groans at the plush. Women were his least interesting cup of tea, until he met you and now he wishes to turn over your every page and learn you.

This has gone too far. Both of you know it.

You however didn't even take him in your pussy, yet have him drip pathetically, aching for you. fuck should have sat in my lap, his mind groans to him. He leans in, his damn lips again working down your earlobe; at every trail of his kisses, your skin burns and your heartbeat accelerates, actually throbbing your boobs in his hold.

That blush you've been having on your cheeks the whole time has never deserted, if anything, it reddens even more on your face, at every kiss he plants every now and then. He looks back into your eyes for an answer. "No," you breathe, answering his ridiculous question. "But I want more..." a smile immediately makes its way to his lips and his cold eyes warm within themselves.

His smile... a rare thing to actually witness, for a cold, aloof Huening Kai who doesn't sleep twice with a woman, but he ridiculously can not stop sleeping with you, and of course, smiling like an idiot. He loves the way your eyes soften at his smile, and he does smile so, often for it. Such a strange feeling, he can't get rid of you, you don't seem to let go of him, in reality, he can't seem to let you go.

Your addictive brush on his lips never ceases to haunt him at the times he wishes to forget about you, or your warm hands that should have always been securing him ( scraping his back with yo nails lol ) never seem to warm the cold emptiness he feels when he goes to his bed at night, without you. The bed which moved when he drilled into you, never felt so still and so wrong, which is exactly why he has brought you here again, feeling that same warmth which is just as capturing as last time. He is inable to stop, he needs to feel you again, which he is clearly aware of, the heat for you, burning inside him and aching his insides for you.

Nothing ever feels enough, when it comes to you.

The warmth in his touch, the fire in his kisses, the writhing heat he has for you is the exact thing which confuses you for his freezing stare and his cold attitude, reserved as fuck when you had the first encounter with him, correction - a mere exchange of consents before the both of your were colliding into each other. The seeming magnetic pull he had, something was unleashed in you when he first entered the bar. You went to him, asked him if he was in for drinks and hook up. Drinks were all to hell when you both left to fuck, absolutely in a rut for eachother where ending the night felt wrong and you had to leave him.

He was left alone, or so he felt he did, cause it didn't feel right to part, part from you.

What pulled him into you? He wonders himself, you had that perfect black dress, which seemed to be glued to your body, that short little dress didn't disgust him and he felt no repulse like the other times he pushed away the women throwing themselves at him Instead he was teased to explore what was under, which now is no mystery and ravishing it, an addiction. Fucking you once didn't feel right to end, he was left to want more. Fucking you twice was not enough. I guess I want more of her, he realized. Now thrice, still doesn't feel enough either. It's like, he wants you more and more the times he feels you.

His hand refuses to leave your tits while his lips play with the skin on your neck, tickling at soft spots repeatedly as he does not relent until a crimson mark erupts, only then does his lips descend to your cleavage as he examines the valley, he parts from your chest, earning a heave which rises it, inviting him again.

He tilts his head up at you, your jaw glistens from sweat and your voice box bobs, and then, he discovers how you are lost in this foreplay.

"Can I...?" The third night he is fucking you over now, yet his way of asking consents never seem to fail in amazing you everytime. His eyes meets yours with the sparkling hunger which never seemed to fade away from his orbs. His following rasp holds an odd, safe, yet that 'dampening-your-pussy' effect, where it takes no seconds for a 'yes please..' to leave your mouth and he is ripping that top off in the blink of an eye, laying you down.

Your hands find his hair and get lost in it when he kisses your aereola, sucking and leaving kitty licks, toying with your nipples using his tongue, the displayed plush of your tits mercilessly having him leak out the pre-cum.

Though he is at your tits, listening to your racing heartbeat, feeling all of it with his mouth latched onto your boobs, his heart too races as if it knows no relent in pounding so hard for you. So badly does he want to just shove his cock in and fuck your senses out until his hunger died for you, he aches for this little fluttery feeling, rushing through all of him to a point he mindlessly acts so gentle and so hypnotized, he can't stop.

His hands have a mind of their own, gently imprinting the feeling of yours. His ears always noting your little sounds and his eyes always store your various sights of writhing under him, in him, always trying to elicit them again, so he gets a replay of it. The drumming of his heartbeat echoes in his own ears, the exciting feeling actually so good, he is damn sure, he is feeling it for the first time. Just what are you doing to me, sweet thing?

He is beyond into you, where his mind no longer holds any control over him, he wishes to absorb you, all to himself.

The moment he feels enough, he strips you off of your skirt, revealing your pink panties, where he spreads your legs with his hands and witness the glistening wet patch on it. "Fuck, you're so desperate aren't you? It's a fucking flood I suppose..." His fingers start toying with the wet cloth, pressing his fingers there and he strips you of it and reveals you're pooling heat, groaning and chuckling at it. "And It fucking is.. haah"

There. His runny mouth. Curses sound so sweet by his mouth and his degrading moans, melo-fucking-dious. "Says you, with that wet bump of your rock hard cock. Adorable, Huening."

Fuck, she's so hot. His rock hard cock, forming that wet glistening patch on the bump, even on his dark pants is so visible, your cunt flutters imagining how good he'd stretch you out at the sight. The bump looking so massive, his cock twitching inside you is the best one of the best, from the two longs nights you've been up with him, you know damn well, he's the fucking best you've ever had.

"Fuck love," he curses, his smirk revealing a little of his gritting teeth.

"You run that mouth and I'll fuck it too." He looks down at you, punctuating his sentences with his condescending and solemn look, annoyingly decorated with a tight smile lasting for no seconds, but you know, you shoot him a cocky look for it will soon become whines and praises when he feels you. Amusingly, his struggle to look at you when his eyes drift to your pussy is not unnoticed by you, a proud giggle leaving your mouth that does not catch his attention, his adam's apple bobs at the sight, a pink tint smears across his cheeks and cock jerks wildly at it, crazy how he thinks with his dick and dick only, when you're the one taking it in.

"B-But now just take my cock, as I say, will you?"

Another giggle leaves your mouth, as you nod along, permitting him. However, it is all giggles until it turns into a surprised gasp, clearly interupted, with his cock shoving pushing inside with no prepping. He once realized when he sheathed himself in for the first time that night, you were and are so tight he might snap, with the way you're strangling his cock exactly like how you did then, and choking on your laugh, clearing whimpering later with that cockiness abandoning your face.

Fuck! he's caught you off guard, entertaining himself with your surprised moans, oh damn, to fix that attitude of yours using his cock, he fucking enjoyed it. It's his turn to laugh now, a deep one so melodious to your ears, as he looks at with you with a cocky look, smugly amped up with a smile which resembles yours from before. "Laugh now, baby?" He raises his eyebrows, trying his best to hide the way he is losing his mind. "Can't laugh when filled up with cock?" His smile never fades, but his little whimpers do echo when he pulls out, as a slowly as he can, the emptiness you feel when his cock slides out, your walls flutter, trying to invite his cock again.

Holding his cock as he finally pulls out, he rubs the tip on your area, sliding it up and down as he feels your little shivers when his cock prods at your hole, he pushes in, only so his tip is held by your hole. "What's that, baby? You wan' it?" He tsks at the way your hole clenches at nothing, a wild grin creases eventually on his smiling lips at your squeezes, he's absolutely enjoying the way you're so desperate for him and are nodding at his words as dumbly as you could, he is damn satisfied. "Pussy's begging me so perfectly, but I don't know, think you deserve it?"

You nod at him as desperately as you could. His eyes darken and form crescents, his dick taps at your clit and attempts to push in, only to tease you and watch you think he finally puts it in but he doesn't, disappointment rippling on your face when you realize he did not push it in. Your moans die when he parts his cock away from your cunny. "Words baby, words. Guess your pussy doesn't-" he is so cruel to do that, when youre absolutely dying in anticipation, you can't hold it in.

"I do! Please fuck me, wan' your cock, and make me cum, Kai, pleeaaasee."

"Fuck! guess you do, when you beg so good." He groans and fills you in, his cock nesting in your cunt ever so perfectly, your whimpers at the stretch synchronize with his groans and he begins his movements. His movements always begin with short deep thrusts and then, do they begin fucking you into his mattress, you know it's when you begin to cry and whine like the slut you are for him.

"When I'm in your pussy b-baby," Kai grunts, angling his cock to your sweet spot which he knows where it is like the back of his palm. You are aware, he is talking, talking to you, but does he not know? He is not beside you, up for a chat, he is fucking into you, where anytime your mouth parts to speak, it only knows to moan and scream, or to be shut by his prodding tongue. And the words are hazy, with that tinnitus echoing due to the immense good feeling- just what is he saying?!

You wish to understand, make out what he says but little do you know, the ability to think bid goodbyes to you, when his cock pushed in you, but you don't do any of it. Kai has felt it, you no longer listen to him and it doesn't take him long to lean in on you, and flick your chin to look at him, as he thrusts even then. "When I'm in you, you only moan my name get it, slut?"

His little words strike straight at your 'getting-ruined' pussy, squeezing him even more as every thrust now feels intense; his all dominant facade wearing out. You feel if you're a dumb doll, when he fucks and tells you things, you obey him as you nod at every single thing he says, with one and only goal, to cum, cum on his dick. And oh, the way your mouth keeps chanting his name like a mantra after he orders, Kai definitely loved it. His name rolling off of your tongue, almost in a crying manner, sometimes even stuttering when he fucks. His name called in n different ways when you moan it, all of the forms echoing in his ears are a melody which always guide him to his orgasm.

"Kai-! I'm so close- s'close-!" such a slut are you, to say you're close and cream his cock in a split second after. It's too much, to contract around his moving cock and your orgasm rippling all parts in you, more reactive do you become, grabbing the most of the blankets on his beds as you could, curling your toes and arching your back the hardest you could, you cum. And yet, his pace doesn't stop.

You, in a way, lubricated your own entrance, getting Kai to thrust in faster than he already was, gaining him a perfect rhythm, his cock rushes him everywhere in body to use you to the fullest he could; his grip on your thighs becomes bruising. Gripping sheets, digging nails in its cloth, curling toes and hooking your legs around his waist, tears cascading down and your moans almost sounding like screams, the overstimulation is swarming your body and absolutely wrecking your senses.

Praises overflow out his mouth when he witnesses this heavenly sight, and in no way his dick stops twitching, fuck it. He is getting off of your orgasmed frame getting overstimulated, and he is gonna snap at any moment, he feels it. "I'm c-cumming-! Cumming! hnnnngggg-!" Those slutty whines he be letting out when he is close but doesn't stop, depriving you of his eyes rolling back into cranium and pulling you onto him using his big, strong hands, he finally cums.

To release a handful of load in you, just hooked onto your pussy bracing his cock ever so warmly to squeeze out the last droplets of his semen, the feeling is out of the world to him, his panting mouth, dazed eyes and his tongue out like a puppy, oh fuck, he loved dumping his load into you.

"Fuck you, Huening Kai!" You wail, you were so close to cumming, he replaced that with his warm seed instead, again leaving you want for more.

"I was so close!"

"Aw, is that it baby?" He finally comes back into the world, looking you at release yourself from his hold and walk away, his cum dripping out as you stand naked, pearly liquid gliding down your thighs glowing in the dim yellow light of the lamp, your ass perfectly painted with his hand prints. "What's wrong, what do you want?"

Just why would you like walk like that princess? Haah, I wanna do it again.

"Well, my clothes." You glance at the red top laying on the floor as you make your way to get it. You turn back to look for other discarded garments, only to find Kai pulling you into his embrace, squirming in his hold. "Kai! What are you doing?"

"So you aren't staying?"

No, cause this won't last. How the fuck do I say it?

You wish to end this, this might be your last night with him. You didn't wish to get attached which aren't reciprocated even a bit. The way you crave him more than physically, isn't just a hook-up anymore. "Uhm, why?"

Kai cages you in his hold. "So I fuck you all day, all night to make you stay? Tell me?"

He holds you against your will but his question melts you in him. Just what does he mean by 'fuck you all day, all night to make you stay?' You are at loss to retort; the question so weird. Still, that does flutter your heart, an unknown tingly feeling kissing your knees when he implies to make you stay.

"What do you mean, of course- not! I mean-" His fingers shush you, and your chain of broken words stay gulped inside. But what should you say at this moment? You had no idea. When you gather the gravels of your whatever answers, his hands cup your cheeks.

"Let's date. Let's fuck. Everyday."

#hyuka smut #hyuka hard thoughts #hyuka hard hours #huening kai smut #huening kai fanfic #huening kai hard thoughts #hyuka x reader #huening kai x you #huening kai x reader #huening kai hard hours #huening kai x y/n #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt x y/n #txt x oc #txt x you #txt x reader

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xthejazzdalorianx · 21 days

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Chapter One ~ Fragile

Pairing(s): Logan (the Wolverine) Howlett x Non-Mutant!Female!Reader, Uncle!Wade (Deadpool) Wilson x Non-Mutant!Female!Reader

Warning(s): This story explores grief, personal trauma, and mature themes with strong language. It addresses loss, childbirth, and includes elements of chaos and irreverent humor, blending serious and unconventional situations.

Author’s Notes: Hello everyone, thanks for joining me on my first fan fiction. I hope you enjoy it! If you'd like more and want to support future updates, please like, follow, and share. Note: This story features a slow-burn romance with mature content in later chapters. Your feedback is appreciated! :)

Word Count: 4,079

When you first met Logan Howlett, it was at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. You were just starting to find your footing there, and he was the first person who reached out with genuine warmth. He was charming but with a temper that could flare up out of nowhere. Yet somehow, you always managed to be the calm in his storm.

Over the years, your friendship deepened, and you never imagined that anyone could balance you so perfectly. But there was that summer. That unforgettable summer when everything changed.

The memory of your first kiss is etched in your mind like a cherished, worn-out record that never seems to lose its magic. It was one of those moments that felt so right. It was almost like the universe was aligning just for the two of you.

It happened under a dark blue sky with stars twinkling above. You were heartbroken, having just lost both of your grandparents.

The grief was overwhelming, and you found solace in Logan’s arms. He held you close, his embrace a quiet sanctuary in that flower garden.

Time seemed to stretch on as he kept you safe and warm. When you finally looked up, your tear-streaked face met his gaze. His blue eyes were full of an unspoken understanding and a love that had always been there, just beneath the surface.

In that moment, you knew that he was more than your best friend—he was the one who had always been meant to be by your side. And even now, as you look back, you realize that he will be with you, come what may, until the end of time.

After that night under the stars, you and Logan fell into a passionate whirlwind. Every spare moment seemed to be an excuse for a touch, a kiss, or something more. It was intoxicating, and you couldn’t get enough of him. Whether it was infatuation or something deeper, you didn’t care. All that mattered was him.

But then, things started to change. The fiery passion that once brought you together now seemed to drive you apart. Arguments became more frequent, and what had been tender moments turned into heated exchanges. It was rough, and you tried to hold onto the love you once shared, hoping it would carry you through the storm.

Then came that final, shattering night. Logan's confession hit you like a freight train—he was in love with someone else, and to him, you were nothing more than a temporary distraction. He admitted that you were just a plaything until the other person was ready to have him back. Those words pierced your heart, leaving it in a thousand jagged pieces.

In the months that followed, you tried to pick up those pieces to mend your broken heart. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, it always seemed to lead back to him. The echoes of what you once had lingered, and despite the pain, a part of you remained irrevocably tied to him.

After that devastating night, you knew you needed to make a clean break. Packing up your bags and leaving Xavier’s school felt like the only way to escape the memories that were suffocating you.

Thankfully, there was a sliver of hope in the form of Wade Wilson. You’d met him a few times during your summer with Logan, and while Wade could be… well, let’s just say, interesting, he offered a glimmer of an escape.

Wade, ever the unconventional friend, extended an invitation to stay with him and his roommate, Blind Al. It wasn’t exactly a typical offer of refuge, but at that point, you were ready for anything that wasn’t a reminder of the life you’d left behind.

So, with a mix of uncertainty and relief, you packed up your life and headed to Wade’s place. It was a far cry from the familiar halls of the school, but maybe, just maybe, it was the fresh start you needed.

As autumn began to settle in, the days grew cooler, and the leaves started to drift from the trees. The heat that had once made you grumpy was replaced by a more manageable chill. You found a rhythm in your new life: cooking, cleaning, working a regular job, and occasionally joining Wade on one of his unpredictable missions.

It was a shift from the life you’d left behind, but it offered a sense of normalcy, or at least as much normalcy as Wade Wilson could provide. A few weeks into your new routine, though, you started feeling nauseous.

You chalked it up to the dust and the not-so-gourmet meals you’d been enduring. But one evening, as you were leaning over the bathroom sink, clutching the porcelain in an attempt to steady yourself, Wade burst through the door. He didn’t bother with subtlety.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Is this a new, avant-garde method of redecorating the bathroom? Because I gotta say, it’s not exactly my style,” he quipped, trying to lighten the mood despite the grim situation.

As you retched again, he gently held your hair back and yanked off his mask with an exaggerated flourish.

“Alright, buttercup, let’s not pretend this is just a case of the chimichangas playing hard to get. What’s going on?”

You could barely manage to speak through the waves of nausea, but you forced out, “Wade… I need you to get me a pregnancy test. Now.”

Wade’s usual bravado faltered for a moment. His eyes widened with genuine concern, and he gave you a tender, almost clumsy pat on the back.

“Pregnancy test? On it! And don’t you worry, I’ll be back faster than you can say ‘regret eating that last taco.’”

He carefully tucked your hair back, making sure it stayed out of your face, and darted out the door, leaving you alone in the bathroom. Within ten minutes, he returned, juggling a trio of pregnancy test boxes like they were prizes at a carnival.

“I wasn’t sure which brand to get, so I figured, why not all of them? It’s like a sampler platter of pee sticks!” he announced with his usual flair. You thanked him, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment, as he settled down beside you on the bathroom floor.

He rubbed your back with a surprisingly gentle touch and asked, “So, do you really think it’s Logan’s kid? I mean, I don’t wanna be the bearer of bad news, but that guy’s as stable as a Jenga tower in an earthquake.”

He flashed you a concerned look, trying to add a touch of humor to lighten the mood. You managed a quiet laugh, finding a moment of solace in his attempt to distract you from the stress.

Once you felt a bit better, you asked Wade to step out of the restroom so you could take the pregnancy test.

“Hey, Wade, could you give me a moment alone?” you said, trying to sound as calm as possible. Wade’s face fell a little, but he nodded, rising to his feet.

“Sure thing, I’ll just be out here, nervously pacing and pretending I don’t need a drink,” he said with a forced grin.

He exited the bathroom, and you shut the door behind him, the click of the latch echoing in the stillness as you turned your attention back to the test.

You flushed the toilet and opened one of the pregnancy tests. The instructions seemed like they were written in a different language. Positive was a plus sign and a line, negative was a minus sign and a line. You sighed, taking a seat on the toilet, and mentally prepared yourself.

“I love Logan so much,” you whispered to yourself, “but you’re never really ready for something like this.”

Wade was pacing back and forth in the living room, his usual energy now tinged with worry.

“Hey, are you almost done there? I’d make a joke about pregnancy cravings, but I’m too nervous to be funny right now!” he called out, his voice a mix of anxiety and levity.

You called back, trying to keep calm, “Yeah, just give me a second, okay? It says to wait three minutes and leave it on the counter to make sure the results are accurate.”

Wade hummed in acknowledgment, continuing his restless pacing until Blind Al emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes and looking around with mild irritation.

“What’s all this racket? I don’t get enough sleep as it is,” she grumbled, clearly disturbed by the commotion.

He shot her a sheepish grin. “Oh, nothing much, Al. Just a little, uh, life-changing test-taking party. Don’t worry, it’s not a mutant emergency—just a personal one.”

Al sighed, shaking her head with a knowing look. “Well, whatever it is, just keep it down. Some of us still need to dream about better things than pee sticks and existential crises.”

You apologized to Althea, feeling a pang of guilt for the disturbance, and then finished peeing on the stick, carefully capping it before setting it on the flat counter.

“Three minutes and I will know. Three minutes,” you whispered to yourself, trying to steady your racing heart.

Tears threatened to spill, and you weren’t sure if they were from joy or sadness—or maybe a mix of both. You cleaned yourself up, flushed the toilet once more, and washed your hands.

As you gazed into the mirror, you turned to the side and placed a hand on your stomach, lost in thought. You tried to picture what life would be like with Logan by your side, but the fantasy felt painfully distant. You gave yourself a sad smile in the mirror, the reflection a stark reminder of the uncertainty and longing that had become a part of your reality.

Althea, clearly exasperated, went back to her shared bedroom. She tried to slam the door, but it only shut slowly with a soft thud.

“Okay, Wade, I don’t think I can handle looking at the test,” you called out from the bathroom. “Can you please do it for me?”

You opened the door so Wade could come in. “The instructions say if the first circle has a positive sign, even if it’s faint, I am pregnant. If it doesn’t, it’s negative. Got it?”

Wade nodded, his face a mixture of determination and curiosity. You stepped out of the bathroom and sank onto the living room couch, the nerves gnawing at you as you waited.

Wade Wilson, ever the showman, was practically vibrating with excitement as he examined the pregnancy test. The positive result was faint, but it was there, and it made his eyes widen with a mix of disbelief and joy.

He tried to keep his expression casual as he walked out of the bathroom, but the excitement was clear in the way he barely contained his grin. He plopped down next to you on the couch, his face a mask of controlled eagerness.

You turned to him, confusion etched across your features. “What’s going on?” you asked, searching his face for answers.

Wade’s grin broke wide open, his eyes dancing with happiness. “You’re pregnant,” he said, his voice almost trembling with emotion.

The words hung in the air between you, filled with a kind of awe that seemed to make the moment almost surreal.

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his excitement spilling over in the warmth of his hug. You wrapped your arms around him, letting the reality of the news settle in. A baby. In this chaotic little apartment. The thought was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but think about all the adjustments that would need to be made.

As you pulled away, the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. The loss of Logan was still fresh, and the idea of having a piece of him in this new life was both comforting and heart-wrenching. You missed him so much. Was this baby a link to what you had lost or a new beginning?

Wade, noticing your tears, softened his expression. He gently cupped your face with his hands.

“Hey, I know this is a lot. I’m here for you, whatever you need. If you want to talk about Logan or anything else, just let me know.”

You nodded, letting his words sink in. The tears began to ebb, replaced by a tentative hope.

With Him and Althea beside you, maybe, just maybe, you could start to find your way through this whirlwind of emotions and begin to imagine a future that honored both the past and the new life that was unfolding.

The morning light filtered into the apartment as Wade Wilson darted around the kitchen, a whirlwind of energy. With the sun barely up, he was already hard at work, making pancakes, bacon, and eggs with a flair only he could muster.

Surprisingly, Althea accepted the news as she was seated at the table, sipping her coffee and watching him with a bemused expression. Wade, ever the showman, had even managed to stamp his logo onto the pancakes. He looked back over his shoulder, grinning like a kid with a new toy.

“Hey, you know my last three movies were huge hits. Maybe these pancakes will be too! Or at least not poison anyone.”

You tried to smile at his antics, but your mind was still tangled in the whirlwind of the news. The breakfast was surprisingly delicious—Wade’s enthusiasm translated well into his cooking. But the joy was fleeting. Just as you were about to enjoy your meal, a wave of nausea struck, and you hurried to the bathroom.

From the other room, Wade’s voice rang out, full of mock offense.

“Oh, come on, sweet cheeks! I know I’m not Martha Stewart, but my food wasn’t that bad!” He chuckled as if he’d just delivered a brilliant punchline.

Althea shot him a look and smacked him gently on the side of his bald head. “Really, Wade? I’d rather wrestle a chimichanga than listen to your cooking critiques,” she retorted, though her tone was softer. “Thanks for the breakfast, though.”

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, still feeling queasy but slightly better, you collapsed onto the couch.

Your mind churned with questions. “Why now? Why me? Why him? Why us?”

The doubts and uncertainties swirled around, mingling with the raw memory of that final night with Logan.

In a twisted way, it all made sense. That night had been a chaotic whirlwind of heated, passionate sex, driven by a mix of intense desire and unresolved anger. Now, his absence left a deep, aching void. You missed him fiercely and craved his presence, but he was out there with someone else, living a life that didn’t include you.

A few months into your pregnancy, your belly was undeniably prominent, and managing a job to cover rent was becoming increasingly difficult. Climbing the stairs to your apartment felt like an ordeal.

Wade had taken to buying you more clothes, each one carefully chosen to fit your growing belly and keep it discreet. The last thing you wanted was for news to leak and reach Logan. The thought of him finding out filled you with dread—what if he reacted violently? What if he hurt you or the baby? The uncertainty was overwhelming.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize you’d arrived at the apartment until Wade’s concerned gaze pulled you back to the present. He was watching you with a mixture of worry and exasperation.

“Welcome back to Earth,” he said with a wry smile. “You doing okay? Don’t tell me this is about that guy with forks for hands.”

His hands were on his hips, his frown reminiscent of a parent scolding a child. You shook your head, too exhausted to engage in conversation. All you wanted was to rest.

Wade, ever the attentive friend, guided you to the couch. He gently massaged your feet, his touch soothing as you drifted into a much-needed sleep. The warmth of his care was a small comfort in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded you.

The final stretch of your pregnancy was surprisingly smooth. Your cravings were manageable, and Wade and Althea did their best to make you comfortable. Althea had taken on the task of building a crib for the baby, but her attempt didn’t go as planned.

So, you ended up helping Wade by handing him tools as he wrestled with assembling it. Despite the small size of the apartment, their efforts were heartwarming. You often thanked them, and their response was always a warm hug.

It had been a long time since you felt so loved, surrounded by people who had become like family. You knew your grandparents would have adored this baby, and you felt their love in the support you were receiving now.

Then came the baby shower, thrown by Wade and his quirky X-Force crew. The news that you were expecting a little girl added an extra layer of excitement.

Wade was officially declared the baby’s “uncle,” while Althea was delighted to take on the role of “grandma.” The X-Force team gifted you a range of... interesting items. Colossus, ever the gentle giant, had gifted you an Easy-Bake Oven. Sweet gesture, but not exactly suitable for a newborn.

The baby shower was a lively affair. The room was filled with chatter, laughter, and a spread of desserts decorated with baby onesie designs. The atmosphere was warm and joyful, a testament to the love surrounding your baby.

As you moved through the apartment, chatting with everyone and keeping your hand gently on your belly, each conversation reminded you of the incredible support you had. Gratitude and hope for the future swelled within you, buoyed by the warmth of those around you.

Of course, this wouldn’t be a Deadpool experience without a little unexpected flair. Just as you were savoring the joy of the moment, the apartment lights dimmed, and the door burst open with a dramatic flourish. Wade, dressed in an elaborate superhero costume, complete with a cape and mask, strutted in with a grandiose entrance.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced with exaggerated flair, “prepare yourselves for the most epic surprise of the century!”

Behind him, Althea was maneuvering the custom-made, neon-lit baby carriage into the room. However, since she was blind, she was heading in the wrong direction, veering the carriage awkwardly toward a lamp and nearly colliding with a potted plant.

Wade, trying to hold back his laughter, rushed over and gently placed his hands on Althea’s shoulders.

“Whoa, there! Easy does it, Daredevil. Let’s steer clear of the furniture and save our baby from a potential apocalypse,” he said with a grin, guiding her back on course. “The last thing we need is a baby carriage with battle scars.”

As Althea corrected her path, she gave Wade a playful smack on the arm.

“You know, Wade, if you didn’t have so many grand ideas, I wouldn’t need you as my personal tour guide,” she quipped. “Maybe next time, let’s leave the surprise planning to someone who doesn’t make everything look like a circus.”

The carriage, now properly aligned, rolled into view with its LED lights flashing, a mini sound system playing baby-themed dance beats, and a built-in cooler for drinks. It was an over-the-top spectacle, straight out of a sci-fi movie—classic Deadpool.

The room burst into laughter and applause, and you couldn’t help but smile at the joyful chaos. Despite the unpredictability, it was clear that these moments of absurdity and love were what made being part of this unconventional family so special.

Summer had arrived, and you were nearing the finish line of your pregnancy. In the middle of the night, while you were attempting to sleep on the futon, your water broke. The pain was sharp and relentless, and despite your best efforts to stay calm with slow, steady breaths, you couldn’t help but scream.

Wade burst into the room, his appearance a bizarre mix of urgency and chaos. He was wearing nothing but his mask and boxers, and in his hand was his infamous baby knife. Why? At this moment, you couldn’t care less.

“My water just broke! I need to get to the hospital, NOW!” You shouted through the agony, feeling like you might pass out any second.

Wade’s eyes widened in panic. “Holy chimichangas, it’s go time!” He dashed off to change, calling his friend Dopinder to get a cab over as quickly as possible. “Dopinder, this is not a drill! Get here NOW!”

As Dopinder sped toward your location, Wade yelled to Althea, who was still in bed. “Althea, I’m taking her to the hospital! Don’t miss me!”

Althea merely scowled and mumbled something unintelligible before turning back to her pillow, clearly not up for the middle-of-the-night drama.

Wade hurried back to you, helping you off the futon and carefully sliding your slippers onto your feet. He draped your arm over his shoulder, supporting your weight as you both made your way down the stairs of the apartment building.

At the entrance, Dopinder was waiting, holding the door open with a look of concern. You were breathing heavily, each contraction making the outside air feel like it was blazing with heat.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Wade exclaimed, trying to stay upbeat despite the urgency.

With Dopinder’s help, you climbed into the cab, ready to face the next chapter of your chaotic yet strangely comforting life.

“Dopinder, if you don’t hit that gas pedal, I swear I’ll make sure you’re never able to drive again!” You screamed, the pain making your grip on Wade’s hand tighter than a vice.

Wade was trying to breathe along with you, attempting to keep you calm, but his efforts weren’t exactly working.

Dopinder, clearly feeling the urgency, slammed on the gas pedal, and they arrived at the hospital in record time. He pulled up to the emergency room entrance, and Wade, in a flurry of action, leaped out of the cab and sprinted to find some nurses.

“Help! We need a wheelchair, like, yesterday!” Wade shouted, waving his arms frantically.

The nurses rushed over, assisting you out of the cab. Wade gave Dopinder a hurried thanks before he sped off.

“You’re the best, Dopinder! Try not to get into any more car chases!”

Wade pushed you into the hospital, maneuvering the wheelchair with all the speed he could muster. You were on the verge of meeting your beautiful baby girl, and the fact that you hadn’t picked a name yet felt like a huge oversight.

The pain was reaching new heights, and the baby was already crowning. The nurses and Wade helped you onto the hospital bed, with the staff scrambling to find a doctor and prep the room for delivery.

Wade flashed a goofy grin and said, “Alright, I’ll be right outside if you need me, okay? Just holler if you need a superhero!” But his playful demeanor was met with your intense look.

You grabbed his wrist with a desperate grip. “No, Wade, I need you here. Please? I’m freaking out.”

Wade’s expression turned serious as he nodded. “Okay, okay, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you, kiddo.” He settled into a chair next to your bed, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos.

Within an hour, you welcomed your beautiful baby girl, Mara Howlett, into the world. The nurse gently placed the tiny bundle into your arms, and you couldn’t help but smile through your tears. It was the most painful yet incredibly beautiful moment of your life.

Wade, practically bursting with excitement, leaned in with his trademark grin and said, “Look at that! We’ve got ourselves a future superhero! And guess what? As her brand-new, totally cool uncle, I’m officially on diaper duty. I hope she’s ready for a lifetime of epic adventures and, of course, Uncle Wade’s questionable life lessons!”

You laughed softly, looking up at Wade with gratitude. “Thank you for being here,” you said, your voice filled with emotion.

At that moment, Mara, your beautiful baby girl, gave her first smile. It was a tiny, precious glimpse into her future, and it melted your heart.

As you looked at her, a thought crossed your mind: hopefully, things won’t get too crazy, and she won’t inherit Logan’s more intense abilities. But if she does, you reassured yourself that Wade would be right there, ready to help and teach her with his usual mix of humor and unconventional wisdom.

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #deadpool x reader #deadpool and wolverine #angst #pregnancy #slow burn #poolverine #hugh jackman #ryan reynolds #deadpool #wolverine

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 7 months

Text

When Shots Align ~Mommy!Ava Coleman xFem Reader

Summary— Reader meets Ava at the club. Ava is having a night out to celebrate her latest single status, and the two of you get to talking, doing shots, and dancing. One thing leads to another… Anon Request— 🥸 “‪34 44 52 Ava Coleman x reader‬” Thanks for the requests! Hope you Enjoy ♥️♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#34. “Is that what’s been bothering you? Oh my, well I’m sure we can fix that.”

#44. “That’s right, grind down on me…”

#52. “Fuck… Mommy! … Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… slipped out…?”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, teasing, fingering, eating out (oral sex), mommy kink, alcohol consumption, drunken hookups, under the influence sex, flustering, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

Your eyes wandered across the club, landing on Ava throwing it back on the crowded dance floor, the hype, colorful lights, and loud music of the club creating a certain vibe that her hips just seemed to sway to perfectly. The woman danced effortlessly between the many men and women, and you couldn’t deny that she looked pretty stunning, breathless even.

You were at the bar, throwing back a shot every once in a while, hoping to loosen up some. A couple men had come up to you, but none which caught your interest. Your gaze kept flitting back to the stunning woman, who was working it and starring on the dance floor.

More quickly than you would have liked, the woman’s gaze met yours. She smirked, sending you a wink, before going back to her effortlessly grinding. Your face went red and you quickly looked away, trying too hard to focus on your empty shot glass. Before you had the courage to let your eyes wander back to her, Ava came strutting off the staged dance floor and right up next to you at the bar.

“You been staring at me all night, Shawty, How about you buy me a drink?” The woman confidently asked you.

You could feel her presence next to you, and when you finally got the courage to look over to your right, you saw that the stunning woman was right in front of you. And she was so much more beautiful up front. Her dress hugged her curves in the all the right places. Her make up was on point, accentuating her features and accessories.

“So?” Ava asked with a quirk of an eyebrow and lips at how she had seemingly made you speechless.

But for Ava, that was normal. She made a lot of people speechless. But she seemed to be especially enjoying making you speechless right now. Your mouth and dry and you nearly choked on your own air, as you realized how long you had been staring.

“I— Shit sorry right! Ummm buy you a shot…??” You stammered, still choking a little, but it seemed to transition into an embarrassed laugh as your face deepened in its red shade.

“Alrigh’! I see you girl!!” Ava exclaimed, her face lighting up and accompanied by a dramatic hand gesture, “I’m Ava.”

“Y/N.” You said.

You nodded and laughed the embarrassment off, quickly calling the bartender over and ordering two more shots, hoping that a little more alcohol might loosen you up some more. The shots came and you two pounded them back, before Ava quickly ordered a couple more.

You were surprised but how much time she was spending with you, compared to all her potential dance partners that she was currently leaving on the dance floor. And because you were now four more shots deep into it, your thoughts quickly became speech.

“Hey why are you here…?” You yelled, partially due to the particularly loud, blasting music in the club, but also due to the alcohol affecting your ability to moderate your volume.

“I dumped my boyfriend tonight, found him cheating with some girl…!” Ava told you with a roll of her eyes, “So I thought I’d go out without anyone and have some fun, forget about him, y’know.”

Your face softened lightly as you slowly processed the woman’s words. You placed a hand on hers on the bar.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, also a little too loud, but conveying your true sympathies.

“Nah, it’s good. I’m betta’ off without that dick and his skank.” Ava huffed.

Ava looked in your eyes and for a moment you saw the vulnerability of a woman who was hurt, but within a split second, her eyes flickered and were back to their playful, chaotic fun nature. She pulled her hand away and yelled through the music for more shots from the bartender.

You bit your lip and decided to drop it, taking the next shot as she offered it to you and throwing your head back to swallow the acidic liquid. A couple more rounds of this and then Ava was dragging you to the dance floor. You tried to protest, insist that you weren’t made for dancing, but Ava wouldn’t hear it.

The woman pulled you flush against her front and began shimmying and swaying to the music. Ava could feel your tense nature, her hands held your hips and she guided your body to sway against her with the music. You took a deep breath and let yourself become one with the beat.

“You got it, Shawty. Shake that ass for me…” Ava hyped you up as you started to let go and really dance up against her frame.

By the end of the night, the two of you were grinding against one another, as if you were the only ones on the dance floor. You could feel your cunt thumping and thrumming for attention, more importantly, you were completely enamored by the woman who’d you had been dancing with for hours.

Unfortunately all good things have to come to an end, and when the club closed for the night, you thought that was it. But Ava had other things in mind. She dragged you out of the club by the hand, and pulled you straight into a kiss in the middle of the night and street sidewalk. You gasped, a little shocked and your reactions a little slow due to all the alcohol. But once you gained some footing, you really put yourself into the kiss, and after a couple of minutes, you were both breathless and laughing.

Again you thought that this was it, that the night was over. But then Ava suggested a cab back to your place with an implied we and your heart began pounding in your ears. You quickly nodded, and to hail a cab, both shuffling into the back as you gave your apartment address to the cab driver.

As soon as the final syllable of your address had left your mouth, Ava’s hands were all over you and her lips were back on yours. You moaned lightly into her plump lips, and Ava contently swallowed all your breathy sounds. Her hands were wandering up your thigh as well as crawling up around your shoulder and behind your neck. You hesitated a little on touching Ava, and she sensed it, smirking into the kiss.

Her hand snaked to meet yours, and she guided your one hand to caress her curves, and the other to her breasts. You kneeded her tits and caressed her hard buds with your fingers and palm, making Ava breathily groan into your mouth. You squeezed and rolled your other hand along her curves, about to explore even more when the cab came to a firm stop.

You both pulled away from each other as the cabbie yelled that you had arrived. You flushed in embarrassment, having gotten so caught up in Ava that you hadn’t even realized you were outside your apartment. You swiftly paid the cab driver and then exited the cab, hand in hand with Ava, as she eagerly dragged you to your front doorstop.

You fumbled with your keys and finally managed to unlock the door, immediately pulling Ava in and claiming her lips in another breathless kiss as you closed the door behind the two of you. Suddenly you two were impossibly close, intertwined, just as you were on the dance floor, and you felt a familiar warmth in your stomache that spread and was beginning to pool in your panties.

She was so close to you, but so far at the same time. Suddenly all of your clothes were frustrating barriers to what you wanted, to feel her skin everywhere. Ava seemed to have the same idea, because as you two kissed and made your way down your hallway, Ava’s hands wandered to your dress, tugging at it boldly.

You pulled away from her lips, immediately missing her confident mouth on yours, and you nodded quickly while biting your lip, giving your permission to remove your dress.

“Bedroom… Second door to the left…” you breathed out, before crashing your lips back on hers.

“Alrigh’ I see you, little miss straight to business” Ava hummed teasingly.

She hummed into the kiss, while she guided you backwards through your living room and down the hall, while her fingers ran your dress up your thighs and stomache, having you raise your hands to effectively remove the obstacle, leaving you in your baby blue satin set. You were quick to return the favor, helping the woman remove her neon orange-pink, tight dress. Your eyes widened in hunger and lust as you gazed upon the deep magenta lingerie set that Ava was wearing.

The woman chuckled at your speechlessness, before grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into your bedroom, not even taking the second to close the door. Ava backed herself up until the back of her knees hit the end of your bed, then letting herself fall rather sexily on the bed, so that she was now spread out on her back, leaning up on her forearms, her intense, dark gaze on you.

Ava crooked a finger at you, telling you to join her. You gulped and tried to stifle the giggle as you practically pounced on top of her and the bed. You failed, a horrendously cute giggle erupting from your chest as you fall flat on your face and into Ava’s chest. You looked at the woman and blushed furiously, tucking the stray hair behind your ear that had gotten loose from over the course of the night.

“You adorable, babygirl.” Ava purred with a chuckle, her hands wandering up your frame, settling you on top to straddle her.

You blushed even deeper, looking away towards the bedside in embarrassment at the praise. But your eyes fluttered back to the woman in a gasp as Ava’s hands found your back and your bra clip. The woman wiggled her eyebrows and in one swift motion, she unclipped your bra and threw it aside. You gasped ratherly loudly as her hands cupped and caressed your freed tits.

And you couldn’t help yourself as the woman teased your tits, beginning to grind down against her body. At first, it was hesitant and sloppy, but the more your cunt fluttered and the second you felt Ava’s mouth on your tits, your grinding became viciously desperate and very intentional.

Ava’s eyes gleamed with lust and dominance, as she released your left, perky bud with a pop!. You whimpered at the loss of stimulation, but were quickly sated as her hands found their purchase firmly on your hips. The woman sat up more, leaning against the headboard as she intently watched you attempt to get off in her lap.

“Damn that right, get it Shawty. grind down on me…” Ava hyped you up with lustful intention, her pupils darkening and growing, as the sight of you unraveling in her lap was one of the hottest things the woman had seen.

You let out a desperate, breathy whimper.

“M-more… please more—!”

Ava smirked and while one hand was guiding you to grind against her lap, the other snaked in between your legs and around your panties, pulling two fingers through your sobbing, soaked core. Her eyes became 100% engulfed into the lust of the moment. Her fingers spread your wetness around your folds and clit, making your shudder, let out another sinful whimper of need, and buck your hips into her hand desperately.

“This what been bothering you…?” Ava chuckled with a teasing and dominating tone, “Im sure gon’ fix that soon, Babygirl.” She lustfully purred, before slipping two digits into your heat.

Your eyes rolled back as her fingers curled inside you, and your hips jerked in rhythmic tandem with the thrusts of her digits.

“Holy shit…! Yessssss God—” you choked out, your body being overcome with pleasure, as the white heat of your impending orgasm began to build in your core.

Ava licked her lips as she watched you unravel on top of her, not relenting in her fingering or hype. She greedily drank in all of your pretty, desperate reactions, as you rutted against the woman’s lap, chasing you orgasm. It didn’t take long for you to approach your impending climax, and pretty soon, you were mewling for more stimulation to cum.

Ava happily obliged, grinding her palm against your clit, effectively sending you over the edge. Your walls and legs clenched around her fingers and frame, as your orgasmic high washed over you. Moans and groans spilled out of you as the woman fucked you up and over your orgasm.

And before you could stop your drunk mouth, something unfortunate came tumbling out,

“Fuck… Mommy!…” you cried out, but within seconds slapping your mouth won’t your hand and gasping.

Your face went very red in embarrassment, stopping all movement, simply frozen in the other woman’s lap. This didn’t stop Ava from fucking you through your high.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… slipped out…?” You stammered, embarrassingly staring at the now very interesting lamp on your bedside table.

But one last curl of Ava’s fingers, had your eyes rolling and your toes curling, completely forgetting your slip up as your next climax swiftly built in your abdomen. Ava said nothing about the mommy thing, simply working you up and crashing over your second high, which left you heavily panting until you collapsed on top of the woman.

After you’d recovered from your two intense highs, you sat back up and looked at the woman expectantly before speaking,

“Can I return the favor…?” You asked, still breathing shallowly and still with flushed cheeks.

Ava licked her lips again, and opened her legs wide, placing you in between and right in front of her lacy covered pussy. You couldn’t help but stare at the wetness and the smell of her cunt.

“You gon’ stare al’ night or you gon’ eat momma out…?” Ava cooed teasingly and confidently.

Your face flushed a deep red, and you immediately nodded, moving her panties aside and delving straight into the woman’s slick folds.

“Yes mommy…” you moaned, getting the first and proper taste of Ava of the night.

~~~

Ava Coleman Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

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nottswitch · 5 months

Text

but daddy, I love him

summary: your choice of a partner doesn't leave your parents satisfied, seeing as it's Sirius Black, an infamous "blood traitor". does anything have the power to convince them? are you even willing to try?

pairing: sirius black x reader

warning: wizarding bigotry, teenage angst, smoking

wc: 3.8k

a/n: the first of the many inspired by taytay's ttpd. "but daddy I love him" is so sirius coded, I had to.

You wanted to love your family so badly, you truly did. Throughout your whole life your parents had been giving you whatever you needed and wanted – they had the money and they had the power to make your life as simple as the Accio spell. But no one ever stopped to think what it really meant to belong to one of the most ancient pureblood families in the Wizarding World. Everybody always saw the benefits: the new shiny textbooks, the perfectly ironed uniform, owls bringing you the most delicious snacks and rare books relating to your latest interests every week, your bed frame in the dorm decorated to the brim. You appreciated being that privileged, you never failed to thank your parents for the way they brought you up. However, you were fiercely shielded from any outside troubles that could possibly hinder your education and your innocence, as they put it. Ultimately, fate decided to perform its finest display of ruthless irony on you, and your parents’ endless disquietude became the very thing that led to the demise of your relationship with them.

You never expected your dating life to be of such interest to your family, simply thanks to the fact that it was never a question. You hadn’t had any serious partners before, partly due to your tender age, partly due to your own indifference to finding a suitable match.

But then Sirius Black asked you out, and your whole world had stars aligned in front of you in heart-shaped constellations; and it came down in shambles at the same time.

“Love, you alright?”

His delicately worried voice pulled you out of the misery that your parents’ letter promptly put you in.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you answered, shaking your head to temporarily kick the haunting unpleasantries out of your mind. “It’s just… this.”

You showed Sirius a thick envelope with a gold-encrusted seal, your family crest shining proudly and glaringly in the rays of the first summer sun. He barely glanced at the paper and snatched it from you, carelessly throwing it into the fireplace. You watched the flames hungrily devouring the carefully folded letter but leaving the seal perfectly undamaged. It stared at you like a glowing all-seeing orb, burning through your skull and serving as a reminder that everything you had just read was real and imminent.

“The school’s gotta give you props for all this rubbish to keep the fireplaces running.”

You chuckled at Sirius’ vitriol but it hardly lightened the thunderclouds gathering right above your head.

“You know words don’t burn, right?”

“Seems to me like they just did.” Sirius pointed at the seal that finally started to melt, stuck between pieces of firewood and piles of ash.

You let out a heavy breath and turned away from the fireplace to face your boyfriend. He was lying on the couch, head resting on a soft velvety cushion, looking at you with quite a joyful expression on his face. In your mind, it didn’t fit the situation at all, but you had gotten used to his nonchalance about your parents’… dislike of him. Or, better put, their vicious hatred that they never even tried to hide.

“Do you really not care?” you wondered for the umpteenth time, knowing that a no was a sure follow-up to your question.

“Why would I?” Sirius grinned and his hand safely covered yours, resting on the arm of the sofa. “The best part of your fam loves me, and others are a bunch of wankers.”

“I’m the only part of my fam that loves you, babe,” you pointed out, rolling your eyes but giving him a little smile. He smiled back, but stayed silent, noticing that you weren’t finished yet. “I’m already seventeen but I still feel like I’m a wee baby when they talk to me, or send me letters, or even look at me!”

“I know, love, it sucks. But you remember the plan, right?”

You nodded, and the smile on your face had finally turned genuine.

“The one where we come to my graduation dinner together even though my parents explicitly stated many times that there’s not a single universe in which they allow you to step on the property, and if you do, it would be over their dead bodies?”

“Merlin, the way you describe it! Might just be the best prank I’ve ever pulled!”

Sirius burst out laughing and you couldn’t help but follow his lead, his contagious joy making you feel whole again. The two of you came up with this madness of a plan as soon as you heard about your mother talking about a graduation dinner in your honour. They would never allow Sirius to attend, not in a million years; hell, they refused to even look at him when they saw you off at Platform 9 ¾ at the beginning of your last year at Hogwarts. They ignored his existence whenever he came into their sight, like during the holidays, when you got off the train hand in hand with your boyfriend and your parents greeted you, hugged you, kissed you on the forehead, but Sirius was frozen out completely, as if his existence was but a figment of your imagination. He never cared though; he would snicker at their theatrics and kiss you right in front of them, throwing a challenge directly in their stuck-up faces of the Wizarding nobility. Your parents came to know that their never-ending nagging wouldn’t stop you from dating Sirius Black, but they did hold specks of hope that you would grow out of your “immature phase” and give them what they wanted – a perfect little husband from another holier-than-thou household.

Never in a thousand lifetimes would you agree.

The time had come. You had to admit that you were somewhat nervous - never before had you defied your parents’ rules so explicitly and so shamelessly. You Floo’d to the Diagon Alley under the guise of last-minute preparations for the big event. Sirius was waiting for you right there, fully prepared: he was sporting a leather jacket, torn up jeans and a nearly finished cigarette in his mouth. This lad certainly went all out to look as much as a rebellious kid cliché as it was humanly possible, and you absolutely adored it. You couldn’t wait to see the reactions; your whole family was to be present at the dinner, even the most distant relatives, who might not have heard about Sirius at all – your parents hid the fact you were dating him like a dirty secret never to be uncovered.

“Love, you ready?”

Sirius took your hand in his, clearly feeling your accelerated pulse against his own steady heartbeat.

“I was less scared of our Transfiguration N.E.W.T., if I’m honest,” you admitted, hearing your voice tremble ever so slightly. “But then again, McGonagall isn’t a sanctimonious bitch.”

Sirius let out a short laugh, but his eyes were the most earnest when he gave you one last look before turning towards the fireplace, with a handful of Floo powder ready to go.

“Let’s show them, baby. You and I, against the world.”

With his encouraging words swirling in your mind, you let yourself get sucked into the labyrinths of the Floo Network, headstrong into what could turn out as the worst and the best moment of your whole life.

Your clumsy roll out into the main living room of the family manor was a perfect start for a spectacle that was inevitably about to unfold. As soon as you stood up, Sirius flew out right behind you, almost knocking you down to the floor again.

“Daughter? What is going on?!”

Your father’s voice sounded like a church bell above you. At last, you looked up at a crowd of people, all dressed up to bits, staring at you agape, their jaws on a synchronous road to meet the bristly carpet of the living room. The silence was so loud one could hear grains of sand pouring into the bottom half of an ancient hourglass adorning the mantelpiece.

“Mom, Dad,” you started, dusting off your ivory white Sunday best, “and you, Aunt Sarah, and you, Aunt Hannah, and, of course, you, Uncle Marcus! I’m terribly sorry if I’m forgetting some of you, it’s not often that you grace us with your presence!”

Sarcasm was spilling out of your pretentious speech, as you finally had the audacity to say what you had been wanting to express for the past year. Sirius’ presence gave you some much needed courage not to stumble on your words as you tore your heart out of your chest and pinned it shut on your sleeve.

“Merlin, you lot aren’t that suave for a bunch of sirs and madams!”

Speaking of the devil.

Sirius whistled, reaching your side and putting his arm around your bare shoulders. You had picked a dress like that specifically to piss your parents off a little more. They had always told you that any skin visible to the eye below the neck and above the knees was awfully indecent, very unladylike – so you just had to stick it to them.

“Daughter, what is he doing here?!” your mother tried to whisper, but in the deafening silence her voice could be heard as clearly as if she used the Sonorus spell. “Didn’t we tell you…”

“That you’d rather die than accept your dear daughter dating someone you deem undesirable?”

Your mother tried shushing you, giving desperate faux smiles to the guests around.

“What, you didn’t tell anyone?” you continued with a sneer. “Aunts, Uncles, cousins, meet Sirius Black! We’re in love!”

An array of ahs and ohs rang out in the air, and you could see Aunt Hannah clutching her chunky pearl necklace like it was her favourite childhood plushie. Sirius gave the crowd a way overly-exaggerated curtsy.

“Sirius Black, at your service,” he announced, taking out a cigarette out of the pack and popping it between his teeth, ready to light it. Before he had time to do it, the lighter was knocked out of his hands, hitting the wall on the other side of the room with a loud thump. You noticed your father’s moving hand hiding his wand back into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Don’t you dare smoke inside this house!” the man shouted, wishing to incinerate Sirius right where he stood with his scathing glare.

Sirius barked out a laugh and another lighter appeared in his hand. He didn’t go for a cigarette this time, merely playing with the thing in-between his fingers.

“Rule number one when at a pureblood’s den,” he mockingly drawled the words, turning the lighter on and off, “always have a spare lighter.”

You couldn’t hold in a chuckle when you saw your parents ominously fuming at every syllable escaping your boyfriend’s mouth. Your father sighed so loudly, one would think he was on his death bed.

“Let us take this outside, shall we?” He motioned towards the field serving as the manor’s backyard. You looked at the innocent flowers quivering in the wind and thought that they didn’t deserve whatever mess was about to happen within family bounds on this beautiful summer evening.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair, Dad, to deprive our lovely audience?”

You gave the people around you the fakest brightest smile you could muster. No one returned it.

“Daughter, do not taunt me,” your father warned you. “We can use the dining room, if you so desire, but nothing happens here.”

You glanced at Sirius and caught his nod of approval. The dining room was close enough so that your parents couldn’t possibly hurt Sirius, or even you – you were quite sure they wouldn’t touch you with a tip of a finger, but a bit of discretion didn’t seem too excessive. Plus, and it was the only reason you agreed – you didn’t have to suffocate under the heavy stares of your kin.

The dining room wasn’t too different from the living room, the only obvious distinction being a long hardwood table stretching almost wall to wall. It wasn’t yet set – the meal itself was to start at a later hour. Your mother was the last to enter, struggling to dismiss a choir of what-a-messes from your pathetic aunts with desperate promises to deal with the whole situation as soon as they could. She cast a charm to silence you to the rest of the world and turned, at last, to face you. Your father slipped into one of the dining chairs, but you and Sirius remained standing, given some sense of dominance due to the now apparent height difference.

“I will not dance around the subject, daughter, we are terribly disappointed in you.”

Father’s words didn’t sting as much as you thought, and you almost let out a loud sigh of relief as this realization dawned on you. They almost had a tinge of freedom in them, a bittersweet taste of long-awaited liberty. All expectations burdening your fragile shoulders suddenly vanished and you could straighten your back and run, conquering hill after hill, mountain after mountain. They were disappointed. You had nothing to uphold anymore.

“Oh, I heard this one before.” Behind you Sirius laughed, almost grunting, which made you chuckle as well. “Trust me, babe, it only gets better from here.”

Mother shot a highly disapproving look at Sirius, but stayed silent. You always hated it; “A good wife lets her husband talk,” she once said in response to your childish question, and you never asked again.

“What about, Dad? Does my happiness look disappointing to you?” Your question sounded naive, but you knew you hit the exact spot. Your parents had been telling you since your earliest years that all they wanted for you was happiness. Apparently, they forgot to add “happiness that we approve of and scrupulously choose for you” at the end.

“Your happiness? What happiness, daughter? Him? He’s the happiness?”

Your father spat out each word as if it was poison he had accidentally drunk, as if it was a travesty to mention Sirius Black and happiness in the same sentence.

“You do not know what happiness looks like, daughter. You’re only seventeen. You do not know any better.”

“And what do you know about happiness, Dad?!”

Your voice cracked as you felt it growing louder. At this point, the conversation couldn’t avoid turning into a full-blown fight, but it was destined to be exactly that from the beginning. You came prepared.

“Is this perfectly sleek suit of yours happiness? Are my Outstanding N.E.W.Ts happiness? Is having your whole life laid out in front of you from the day you were born happiness, Dad?!”

“You do not know what you are talking about!” Father shouted, his fist rapidly meeting the surface of the table. You flinched and Sirius was quick to jump in front of you, his wand squeezed tightly in his hand.

“Sir, just so you know, this wand has been used on authority figures before.” Sirius waved it in front of him, as if it was but another gauntlet thrown into your father’s face. The sarcasm in his “Sir” was flaming hot. “And for all I care, you’re no authority.”

Father took out his own wand from the same inner pocket and pointed it at Sirius.

“Boy, I will not bat an eye if you turn to dust right here and now,” he stated, his nose wrinkled in disgust, but his eyes slowly turning a shade of bloody red. It was your turn to step in between them, shielding your bold but reckless boyfriend from your father’s simmering rage.

“Dad, stop, I love him!”

It wasn’t the first case of you telling your parents that you loved Sirius, but as these words made an escape from you this time, they had almost acquired a new meaning. They felt more real, more pointed and firmer. Your father didn’t think so. He merely sneered at your proud declaration and rolled his exasperated eyes.

“Love, happiness… All this pointless charade just to prove that you are still a petulant child.” Father turned his head to look at his wife, who nodded in unconditional agreement.

“We did not raise you like that, daughter,” she finally spoke, her tone the same as your father’s.

“Your mother is right. You had everything, daughter, everything you did and did not need. And what do you do in return? Mess around with this blood traitor?!” Father spat out the last word with utmost repugnance.

Honestly speaking, the phrase had a way worse effect on you than on Sirius. He had time to grow some thick skin, dealing with bullshit bigotry from blood-purity lunatics for a while, but it was a first for you – hearing such venom from your parent, whom you still hoped to respect and to love.

“If you, sir, are dumb enough to think this was an insult – try the fuck again.”

Mother gasped and shouted “Language!”, but Sirius’ only response came in the form of a sly grin. As soon as he did it, Father jumped up from his seat and pointed his wand at Sirius with such force that it almost slid out of his hand. Sirius mirrored his actions in a relaxed, almost lethargic manner, as if he was calling Father’s bluff.

“STOP. RIGHT. NOW!”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. With every single passing second, your boundaries were being stomped on by your parents, and even though you had the most pleasure doing it back, you wished for the mess to end. The two men lowered their wands and stared at you simultaneously – Sirius with pride, and Father – with fury.

“Dad, Mom, do you not understand?! You never saw me as a person, just a damn doll to dress up!” You completely ignored your parents’ shock at your straightforward use of a very simple curse word, because it was just a beginning. “You gave me everything, and for what? For me to follow your every fucking order to a T?! For you to bitch and moan about every single decision I make using my pretty damn sound mind?!”

“What has this blood traitor done to you, daughter?” your mother sighed, looking at you with forced sympathy. “You are swearing at your own loving parents who just want to save you…”

“If there’s something to save me from, it’s you!”

You didn’t buy Mother’s crocodile tears that were about to stream down her cheeks. Always the same shit, always her clutching her heart, or her head, or both at the same time. She wasn’t about to coax you again.

“Listen to your mother! You are carrying our noble family name, tracing back centuries. You cannot disgrace it with your outrageous behaviour!”

“Not for long!”

Sirius’ voice was a breath of fresh air in a viscous swamp of your parents’ soliloquies, but for the first time today you didn’t know where he was going. The only thing he gave you was a reassuring smile, which was nice but not helpful at all.

The next minute unraveled in front of you second by second, and you felt each one pass by like the Unforgivables barely missing you and whizzing through the room. Sirius hid his wand and instead took something out of his pocket – you couldn’t discern the thing, but it looked suspiciously similar to a tiny box, – simultaneously getting down on one knee. Three pairs of eyes widened at the same time, but with different emotions concealed in their depths: Father was enveloped with pure wrath and despair; Mother was simply shocked, covering her mouth with a trembling hand; you felt nearly hysterical, your brain vacant from any foreign thoughts except for the man kneeling in front of you with what you could already see was a ring peeking from the wooden box.

“My love,” Sirius began, fully content with every reaction he received so far, “my baby, my little nugget of joy…”

You didn’t want to interrupt him but couldn’t help laughing at the pet name.

“I’d be a bit wordier if it wasn’t, y’know…” His head tilted towards your parents, who still hadn’t evaporated the two of you for some reason. “But I hope to have a lifetime for that. Now, just one question, love.”

You were ready to nod your head away until it would fall off and roll into the corner, but you wanted to hear Sirius say the sacred four words. Most importantly, you wanted your parents to hear them, and maybe pass out at your enthusiastic agreement.

“Will you marry me?”

Your yelled out “YES!” could very likely pierce through whatever silencing charms your mother had put on the dining room. A second later the ring was already on your finger, and you were in your fiancé’s arms, spinning around in endless circles of sheer love and uninterrupted bliss. Your lips quickly found his. Your parents were furious. You didn’t care.

“Daughter?!”

Your father’s voice wasn’t a church bell anymore. It resembled a first-year getting caught up in the Whomping Willow for the first time – abnormally high, breaking and unequivocally frightened.

“Dad?” you mimicked his tone and were pretty damn good at it, if Sirius had a say. “You know what, Dad? If this is the blood running through my veins, I’m more than willing to betray it.”

Mother’s cheeks were wet from tears at last; the flood wasn’t sorrowful, not at all – it was filled with spite. Father clutched his wand, but something stopped him – maybe he was ultimately conscious of the fact that from that moment on he had no power over you. You thanked Merlin for his obsolete mentality that told him wives were their husbands’ properties – well, not yet husband’s in your case, but the premise remained. Oh, the irony! The thing that made him have a measly shred of respect for Sirius was the fact that he was about to marry you – not that he had been your choice of a partner for at least a year.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m taking my future Mrs. Black the fuck away from here.”

Sirius was a gentleman. He offered you his arm, chivalrously opened the door for you and proudly displayed your hand with a shiny stone on your ring finger to each and every nosy aunt willing – no, desperate to take a look. You parents had already left the dining room, but shifted along the wall to avoid the ever-inquisitive relatives. You swiftly reached the fireplace and grabbed a handful of powder each. You were so ready to finally leave the manor behind that your whole body moved by itself, without any input from your consciousness.

“And she’s having my baby!” you heard Sirius shouting just before you disappeared into the green fire of the Floo Network.

Both of you rolled out of the fireplace somewhere in the Diagon Alley, one after the other. You could finally let your guard down and burst into genuine, merry laughter; Sirius did the same, standing up and pulling you into his loving embrace.

“Love, you should’ve seen their faces!” he claimed, excitement washing over him and capturing you by association. “Bet they won’t forget us until the day they die.”

You secretly hoped they wouldn’t.

my masterlist

#— witch’s works ☾#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #the marauders #the marauders era #the marauders imagine #the marauders fanfiction

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thenightfolknetwork · 23 days

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There's a bit of a taboo amongst my genus. I mean, I can't know for sure about the whole population, but certainly in my family there are rules about what is and isn't appropriate to do when we exercise temporal fluidity. And that's for good reason--I get that. You can't just go about changing the tides of war because you feel like showing off your historical foreknowledge. Fine.

Recently, though, I've been spending a lot of my time in one particular period--just about a half-decade on the other side of 0 AD. It's been great! I'm a bit of a Classicist, and a Latinist at that, so obviously there's plenty for me to do in Rome. The food is good, the literature is fascinating, and the people--well, I've certainly met some people. Specifically, there's this one guy. He's older, for sure, but we're both adults and happy with what we have. It's hardly an exclusive relationship, so we don't get bored with stagnation, and not to brag, but his achievements are nothing to scoff at. In fact, not too long ago he put down the remnants of a veritable civil war over in Hispania. My interest in this period has been primarily academic in the past, but I feel like he and I really get each other. I know how he takes his wine and his sense of humor and how he feels about his family. I care about him.

But here's the thing: I know he dies. Soon. And quite violently. I've just gotten back to the twenty-first century recently for a family reunion, so of course "soon" is relative, but back in Rome there isn't much time left. I haven't spoken about this to my family. I know what they'd say. I should just let it happen.

Although, I mean, should I really? Not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but I know for a fact Great-Grandma Margaret wasn't as rule-abiding as my mother likes to think--it's hardly a secret where (more accurately, when) she met Great-Nana Bonny. And, plus, lots of historical scholarship on the subject says, if my Roman friend hadn't died when he had, it probably would've happened sooner or later in a similar manner anyway (his approval ratings are not so high as of late). So is it really an interference if I warn him just this once? I mean, if he dies in another incident somewhere down the line--one of which I have no previous knowledge--then, fine, he dies. This isn't about preventing his death entirely. I understand that, in many ways, he is already dead. But I feel I would be a horrible companion if I didn't at least give him a heads-up. Just a nudge, you know? It's a politically unstable time back in the BC's. The line between this temporal reality and the other is so thin, and the difference is so small. Would my "interference" be so bad?

[Note: The sender later clarified that their letter ought to read "half century on the other side of 0 AD" where it here reads "half decade".]

I'm afraid I can't give you the kind of answer you seem to be seeking here, reader. While I am perfectly happy to help you talk through you moral quandaries, I must draw the line at making your decisions for you. You, and you alone, must discern for yourself whether or not such an act aligns with your own personal, moral code.

If an outside perspective will help, I will say that I'm not sure I entirely agree with your assessment of the circumstances here. I believe I have enough historical knowledge to infer which figure in history you're speaking about, which is, in itself, a concern.

It is a fact of existence that we shape the world around us. Even the quietest, most innocuous life casts its shadow. It is a fact to be embraced and celebrated – there is simply no such thing as an insignificant life. But neither is anything served by pretending that certain figures do not cast rather longer shadows than others.

It is one thing to consider fudging a timeline or two for the sake of someone whose impact reaches no further than their own village, or even their own country. It is quite another to speak of altering the timeline of a person whose existence left ripples across the surface of a significant portion of the globe!

I also don't necessarily agree with your assessment that your interference would not change anything very dramatically. Your friend's “approval rating” may not be great, but I am not at all sure it is universally accepted among historians that either his demise nor the manner in which he met his fate were inevitable.

Finally, you must consider the old paradox faced by every time traveller at some stage or another. You are an actor in this historical period, casting a shadow of your own, and you have no more idea than anyone else how that shadow may fall.

How do you know your warning might not precipitate the event itself? Alternatively, how can you be sure your warning is not already part and parcel of our historical reality? There is just such a warning made in most of the accounts I know, after all – if I am thinking of the right person, of course.

I cannot make this decision for you, reader. I cannot tell you what the right answer is, or even reassure you that there is a right answer. All I can do is to encourage you to think carefully about the risks involved, weigh them against your own moral judgement, and make sure that, whatever your choice, it's one you can live with. At the end of the day, that's all any of us can do.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies #roman history #ancient rome #advice #time travel #science fiction #urban fantasy #fantasy #writblr #writers on tumblr #short fiction

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chakotaybodypillow · 2 months

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Topics for my Chakotay research!! :D

Before I fully dive into everything I have about Chakotay I want to create and share my sort of headers or what I plan to discuss so yall have an idea of what I’ll be discussing the following weeks :D I may or may not follow this to a tee. I have tried over the years to create a document organizing my thoughts. But there is always so much to consider and it's forever changing. Especially now his background region is specified.

If there is anything in here that is not addressed that you would like me to cover, please let me know! I'll let you know whether or not its something included deeper in the text or if its something I've not yet considered. If that's the case my dms are open and we can discuss it :)

The Al-lore of Chakotay

1: Self Introduction

-How Chakotay made me consider “self” and “others” in the real world and in media.

2: Prodigy and the Nicarao

-The research and the why -The Greater Nicoya -The petroglyphs -Further thoughts and questions

3: The wrongdoings of Chakotay

-Negative stereotypes -Inaccurate cultural portrayals -intro to fixing this within canon? (statement or kinda thesis idk)

4: My past research for a “tribe”

-The research and the why -The Maya -The Lancandon -Q’eqchi

5: Considering the cards we were dealt

-The issue with Trebus -A realistic look at Trebus -Trebus within the Star Trek realm -Tying together the loose ends (how it works for his story/issues in community)

6: Considering the cards we were dealt part 2

-Chakotay's identity as told (issues with his “identity”/the Ladino) -The issues with the destruction of Trebus -Posing some questions (futurism for poc) -Further and final thoughts on fixing him within canon (chronological issues)

7: Exploring Chakotay 1 (Important themes to potentially explore)

-Chakotay's story and immigration -Chakotay's story and “Nepantla” -Chakotay's story and exploring self identity -Chakotay's story and generational trauma

8: Exploring Chakotay 2

-Chakotay through the eyes of the creators and actor

9: Final thoughts!!

-readings (completed/planned/currently reading)

PART 2: Headcanons for background story!!

1: From canon to beta-canon to headcanon (separating and combining the 3)

-the definitions and the how they work -personal thoughts on how it works

2: Character Bible

-super basic info on almost all characters

3: Life on Trebus

-Explanation on why I stay vague -Friends/family -Complications within these circles

4: The Academy

-Deeper intro to characters -1st year -2nd year -3rd year -4th year

5: 1st command (Uss Gettysburg)

-Deeper intro to characters -basic info

6: 2nd command (Uss Vico)

-Deeper intro to characters -basic info (segway to side mission)

7: 2nd command part 2 (the trip back home)

-catching up with characters -basic info

8: 2nd command part 3

-um.. Kinda fuzzy here but intro to my plans for his return from leave

9: 3rd command (“shore” duty/admin at the academy)

-catching up/intro for characters -basic info

10: 4th/5th duty assignments

-yeah this is a bit fuzzy too but i’ll explain ok -basic info

11: 6th command (Uss Merrimac)

-don't hate but kinda fuzzy too :( BUT I KNOW THE GENERAL DIRECTION OF ALL OF THESE :(

-basic info

12: The beginning to the maquis

-again…don't hate, but i have important ideas for characters lol

I know this makes me look INSANE but this has been something I’ve thought about for a very long time, maybe like 15 years :/ Its been through a lot in my head and on paper but through my art i’ve been able to generate ideas and a direction i want his character to go. I will state this probably a million times more as I type out my ideas, but the headcanons I include, i dont expect that it will align with everyones ideas and speculations with his story and i dont expect everyone to agree with my opinions. We all view chakotay differently and i'm perfectly ok with that. I do this to give others a different perspective on chakotay and his potential. To show that he is interesting. Also to maybe provide anyone with a more “thorough” background story and development for him. Also for any artist or fanfiction authors out there that want to include any of my work in their own, please feel free!! This is for everyone! Its the reason i do it :D anyways i hope i can share all of these thoughts in full before school starts but idk. Some may come in different formats like videos or art so stay tuned!

I will do my best to link my sources as I post but for now here are just a few videos to watch when considering Chakotay and his ethnicity:

youtube

this one is a animated retelling of the Maya creation story from the Popol Vuh : ) this ones a fun watch :D

youtube

#chakotay #commander chakotay #captain chakotay #chakotay headcanon #chakotay lore #star trek prodigy #st prodigy #prodigy #prodigy s2 #star trek voyager #st voyager #star trek: voyager #peepaw chakotay #star trek #star trek headcanon

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zapreportsblog · 1 year

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Helloo.....it's me....

Can I request the poly!volturi kings x reader that does figureskating? And maybe she falls? How would they react?

Love ya byeee❤️❤️❤️

I love that you keep coming back lol, well here goes nothing!

↱ im not easily impressed but when I am then im impressed ↰

➘ summary : the volturi kings knew their mate was good at figureskating, but this good?! Damn aren’t they lucky

➘ the volturi x reader ; twilight x reader ; aro x reader x marcus x caius

Beneath the veil of night, the Volturi gardens were alive with a tranquility that contrasted with the kings' formidable reputation. Amongst the flora and moonlight, (Y/N) found herself in the company of Aro, Caius, and Marcus, the very embodiment of immortal power and allure.

Seated on an elegant stone bench, (Y/N) felt a contented sigh escape her lips as she gazed up at the stars. The bonds she shared with the Volturi kings were unlike any other, a symphony of emotions that surged through her immortal veins. And it was in these serene moments that she felt most alive, even though the world around her had ceased its heartbeat.

With a tender smile gracing her lips, (Y/N) turned her gaze toward her mates. "You know," she began, her voice soft like the rustling leaves, "before I became a vampire, I was a figure skater."

Her words, gentle as they were, caught the attention of the kings. Aro's inquisitive eyes locked onto her, Caius tilted his head ever so slightly, and Marcus, always the quiet observer, seemed to focus a fraction more on her words.

"You were a figure skater?" Aro mused, his lips curling into an intrigued smile. "How delightful! Please, do share your stories with us."

(Y/N)'s eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and nostalgia. The memories of her human life as a figure skater were vivid, etched into her consciousness like a beautifully choreographed routine. "I spent hours gliding across the ice," she began, her voice carrying the cadence of a storyteller. "The rink was my sanctuary, and the ice felt like an extension of my being."

Caius leaned forward, his crimson eyes fixed on her with newfound interest. "Tell us more," he urged, his tone softer than usual.

As she recounted her stories, (Y/N) painted pictures with her words. She described the early morning frost that embraced the rink, the way the sunlight danced off the ice, and the sheer joy of pushing herself to perfect each spin and jump. She spoke of the ethereal connection she felt with the music, how it dictated her movements and evoked emotions she couldn't express otherwise.

Marcus, his eyes a storm of emotions, seemed to be captivated by her tales. For a man accustomed to the burden of centuries, her stories were a refreshing gust of wind that swept away the cobwebs of his thoughts.

Aro, true to his nature, interjected with curiosity. "Were there any particular moments that stood out to you?"

(Y/N) nodded, a fond smile gracing her lips. "There was one performance in particular. It was during a competition, and everything aligned perfectly. The music, the routine, and my movements—it was as if I had become one with the ice. I'll never forget the exhilaration of that moment."

Her mates listened intently, hanging onto her every word. They were drawn into the magic of her stories, experiencing the echoes of her past as if they were their own memories.

And as the night wore on, (Y/N) continued to share her experiences, laughter and wonder intertwining with the night breeze. With each tale, the bond between them deepened, as if the stories themselves were threads stitching their souls together.

Underneath the stars, the Volturi kings and their enchanting mate were no longer just rulers of the night. They were a constellation of beings, connected by the tapestry of past and present, each thread woven into the fabric of their eternity.

Several years had passed since the tumultuous days of (Y/N)'s transformation. The frenzied hunger of the newborn vampire had given way to control, her movements fluid and measured, her presence a serene echo in the hallowed halls of the Volturi castle. The bond between (Y/N) and the Volturi kings had deepened into an unbreakable connection, an intricately woven tapestry of love and shared experiences.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the castle grounds, (Y/N) found herself wandering through the gardens. She often sought solace in these quiet moments, allowing her thoughts to drift like petals on the breeze.

As if guided by an unseen force, her steps led her to the edge of the ornate fountain where Aro often meditated. His presence was a calming one, and she found herself drawn to him, the years etching lines of wisdom on his immortal visage.

"(Y/N)," Aro's melodious voice greeted her as he sensed her approach. He looked up from his contemplation, his dark eyes fixing on her with curiosity. "What thoughts occupy your mind today?"

(Y/N) took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the water's surface. "I've been considering something," she began, her voice a soft melody in the twilight. "I've regained a measure of control over my thirst and instincts. And I've been thinking about something I used to love in my human life."

Aro's expression held a mixture of intrigue and encouragement. "Pray, do share."

With a steadying breath, (Y/N) spoke of her past as a figure skater, her words a gentle current in the conversation. She explained her desire to rekindle that passion, to once again glide on the ice, to feel the rush of the wind against her skin as she twirled and spun. And most of all, to share that part of her existence with the world.

"It's a competition, a figure skating contest," she added. "I believe I can blend in with humans, showcase my skills, and perhaps even win."

Caius, who had approached silently, folded his arms as he listened. "And you believe you can maintain control?" he inquired, his voice a deep rumble.

"I've practiced restraint for years now," (Y/N) replied with unwavering conviction. "I'm certain I can handle it."

Marcus, leaning against a nearby column, gazed at her with a quiet intensity. "Do you yearn for this, (Y/N)? Does your heart burn with the desire to step onto the ice once more?"

Her gaze met his, a shimmering pool of determination. "Yes," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "More than anything."

Aro's lips curled into a fond smile. "Then you have our support, dear (Y/N)."

Caius nodded in agreement. "If your heart drives you toward this, then you should pursue it."

Their words were a chorus of encouragement, a testament to the depth of their connection. As the sun dipped below the horizon, (Y/N) felt a surge of gratitude and determination. The Volturi kings, whose lives spanned centuries, understood the value of seizing the moment, even in their immortal existence.

"Thank you," (Y/N) said, her voice filled with sincerity. "Having your support means the world to me."

Underneath the fading light, in the heart of the Volturi's domain, a pact was forged. The echoes of past lives mingled with the present, and (Y/N) knew that her decision to chase her dreams would forever be intertwined with the love she shared with the kings who had stolen her heart.

The day of the figure skating contest dawned bright and crisp. The arena buzzed with excitement as the crowd settled into their seats, waiting for the event to begin. Backstage, (Y/N) stood amidst the hubbub, her heart a mixture of anticipation and nervous energy. Dressed in a shimmering costume that caught the light like a cascade of stars, she took a steadying breath.

The announcer's voice cut through the chatter, amplified by the speakers, "Is that (Y/N) (L/N) I spot in the crowd?"

Time seemed to freeze as all eyes turned towards her. The spotlight found her, bathing her in a gentle glow. Her heart raced, and a mix of emotions swirled within her: a touch of vulnerability, a hint of excitement, and a surge of determination.

"Holy shit, it is her!" The announcer's voice rang out, carrying the astonishment of the moment. "She's been missing from the spotlight for eight years now, but it seems our world-renowned star is back. This year's competition just got all that more interesting."

(Y/N)'s eyes met the spotlight, her resolve hardening. This was her moment, a chance to embrace her past and let her vampiric grace shine. As the music swelled, she stepped onto the ice, her skates gliding with an elegance that was both mesmerizing and supernatural.

With every twist and turn, (Y/N) moved with an otherworldly grace. Her body flowed like water, each movement executed with a precision that defied the bounds of human capability. As she twirled and spun, the audience held its breath, captivated by the ethereal performance unfolding before them.

And then, in a breathtaking moment, (Y/N) tapped into her vampire abilities. She spun faster, her form blurring as if time itself had lost its grip. Her body contorted with impossible flexibility, and she transitioned into moves that seemed to defy the very laws of physics. Gasps of awe and wonder echoed through the arena, mingling with the soft strains of the music.

Among the audience, (Y/N)'s mates, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, stood hidden amidst the crowd. Their eyes were locked onto her, their pride and love evident in the unspoken connection they shared. As she moved with a combination of elegance and supernatural skill, their hearts swelled with a mixture of emotions.

As the final notes of the music faded into silence, (Y/N) came to a graceful stop, her arms outstretched. The arena erupted in a thunderous ovation, the applause echoing off the walls in a symphony of admiration.

Backstage, her heart soared. She had poured her heart and soul into this performance, and the audience's reaction was a testament to the connection she had forged with them. The judges, too, rose to their feet, their expressions a mix of awe and appreciation.

When the results were announced, the tension was palpable. And then, with bated breath, the announcer declared, "First place goes to (Y/N) (L/N)!"

A tidal wave of cheers erupted as (Y/N) stood on the podium, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. The victory was sweet, but it was more than just winning a competition. It was a triumph over adversity, a testament to the enduring strength of the human spirit and the infinite possibilities of an immortal existence.

As the cheers washed over her, (Y/N) felt a warmth deep within her soul. She had reclaimed her place in the spotlight, not as a mere figure skater, but as an embodiment of her journey, her past, and her future. And as her mates emerged from the crowd to congratulate her, their eyes shining with pride, she knew that this moment would forever be etched into their shared history.

(Y/N) had instantly thrown thrown herself back into practicing figure skating with an intensity that matched the fire that had driven her throughout her life. Her graceful movements and daring spins had only grown more intricate and breathtaking with time. Her mates, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, watched with pride as she embraced this passion with the same fervor she had approached her immortal life.

One morning, the sun painted the sky in shades of rose and gold, (Y/N) found herself on the rink, the cool air kissing her skin as she spun with unparalleled grace. Lost in the rhythm of her movements, she didn't notice the small figure that darted onto the ice, their footsteps barely audible against the smooth surface.

"Mommy!” the child's voice rang out, filled with a mix of excitement and joy. With eyes wide and filled with wonder, they watched as their mother spun, one foot outstretched in a daring maneuver.

Startled by the voice, (Y/N) quickly stopped her spin, the momentum causing her to lose her balance. With a gasp, she stumbled, and her ankle twisted in an awkward angle. Pain shot through her leg, and she crumpled to the ice with a cry of discomfort.

Before she could even process what had happened, her mates were there, their presence swift and unwavering. Aro and Caius carefully lifted her, while Marcus scooped up their child, whose eyes were wide with concern.

"Mommy, are you okay?" the child asked, their voice trembling.

(Y/N) managed a reassuring smile through the pain. "I'm going to be alright, sweetheart," she replied, her voice gentle and soothing.

Marcus knelt down, his calm presence radiating comfort. "Your mommy is strong, little one. She'll heal in no time."

Aro's gaze was filled with worry, but he masked it with a gentle smile. "Let's get her inside and tend to her injuries."

Caius, always the pragmatic one, nodded in agreement. "We'll have you up and moving again soon."

With the utmost care, they carried (Y/N) back to the castle, her child walking alongside them, their small hand gripping Marcus's fingers tightly. As they settled (Y/N) on a comfortable couch, her ankle already swelling, she offered her child a reassuring smile.

"You know what, sweetheart?" she said softly. "Mommy's different from others, and that means I heal quickly. I'll be back on my feet before you know it."

“Like a superhero?!” asked her child.

“Just like a superhero.” She replied.

Hours passed, and true to her words, (Y/N)'s ankle mended at an astonishing rate. Her mates took turns hovering around her, fussing over her well-being. And just as she had promised, she was soon back on her feet, albeit gingerly.

The child watched with wide eyes, their amazement evident. "Mommy, you really healed so fast!"

(Y/N) chuckled, pulling them into a warm embrace. "Yes, darling, that's the magic of being a superhero.”

“Well I wanna be just like you when I’m grown up mommy!”

As the day drew to a close, (Y/N) found herself surrounded by her loving family, her mates and their adopted child. The incident served as a reminder that even in the midst of the extraordinary, they were bound by love and the simple joys of life. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold once more, (Y/N) held her family close, grateful for the journey that had led her to this moment of shared happiness.

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natalyarose · 5 months

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𝑅𝑒𝒻𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝓉… (𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜, 𝒮𝓊𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝐵𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒾!)

~ This is a bit of a personal one lol, maybe I'm getting a little too comfy on tumblr- but hey, I like it here and I'm very grateful for everyone who's taken an interest in whatever I have to say :)

~ tagging this on Nakshatra tumblr because I feel like this reflection perfectly encapsulates Venus Nakshatras and is very aligned with the Sun moving into Bharani, the birth of Venus among the Nakshatras

// warning, cringe and angsty lmao

I have such an odd relationship with my artistic process. Unconventional? Stubborn. Sometimes just straight up bad lol.

I want to create beautiful, meaningful things, yet I have this sort of extreme resistance to being perfect or professionalism (however, somehow perfectionism and such a ruthless self-antagonism for not being 'enough' at the same time..).

It's almost like I purposely sabotage my art by intentionally leaving in mistakes, or leaving it somewhat dishevelled in protest of perfection. In hopes that the beauty and artistry still manages to shine through to the right people.

I guess it's also this thing where I feel like the imperfection makes art more unique, more exclusive- more personal & dearly held to the people who do find the beauty in it that I initially wanted to communicate. But, there is a difference between artsy, grungy, rawness and... just being crap, lazy, unrefined, undisciplined. (I'd never refer to someone else's work in this way but myself... mann).

Knowing full well that my artistic creation likely 'needs work', is not a finished product and will very likely be criticised for its' imperfection, I still have the overwhelming urge to go ahead and share it with the world/post it. In all of its' messy (again, maybe just straight up bad lol) glory. Then I wonder why I'm not gaining the traction I want haha. When I inevitably receive criticism, I get so hurt by it, I beat myself up and it eats at me to the point that I can't sleep at night, I'm up reciting the criticisms in my head and weaving them into my very own nightmare!

I don't understand why I do this to myself lmao. Later on after posting & putting myself out there, I hear that imperfection in the song, I hear those vocal parts I stubbornly left in and didn't want to redo, I see the dodgy brush strokes I refused to fix up in the name of authenticity, and I cringe. In fact, I feel such a deep shame for it all that I take everything down out of embarrassment. Even though it was fully my decision to put up something amateur sounding and imperfect.

Maybe it's something like the weight of desire for perfection is too much, so I just go 'to hell with it!'.

It's like an endless cycle for me, and I realise that over the years, if I'd just left things up online and was more patient with myself, I'd probably have cultivated a following of some sort by now, or maybe used peoples' criticisms to improve the art to a greater extent. I mean, there are people who have mentioned to me when they notice the art is imperfect and needs work, but there are just as many lovely people who have gone totally out of their way to express deep appreciation for the music/art I've put out and enjoyed it.

Here's my 'theory' as to why I do this to myself: when I create art, I don't just want to make pretty things, though I want that too. I want to be loved, and FELT. I want to bring people to this raw, vulnerable place in my heart where my ideas emerge from. I want to be loved not in spite of the imperfections, but alongside them, all encompassing.

I don't want to have to be perfect, have $1000 worth of equipment, hours and hours of recording time trying to 'get it right' in order to be understood and deemed beautiful. I don't want to show off how perfect or skilled I am either, I want to make people feel something. I want it natural.

r a w.

I kinda enjoy for art to be unfinished and slightly unpalatable on purpose.

Maybe it's a bit of entitlement on my part, expecting that even if I do a mediocre job, people will still enjoy it and see my 'talents'/message.

Truth be told though, that's how I love other people, how I enjoy others' art as well, it's not just something with me.

When I listen to artists I love, I adore seeing something beautiful, yet somehow messy and jarring. A sort of underground-esque, 'wild feminine' creation. It evokes that much more feeling and passion that something designed to be perfect just lacks to me.

I can't get into a lot of bands that are considered 'objectively good' by many people because they just sound too perfect to me- There's a lot of times I come across artists that sound technically good, very clean but my heart just can't get into it. I find myself listening and thinking 'I wish this was recorded on a toaster', or 'I wish there was a more rough sound to the vocals' lol, I crave the rawness & intimacy that imperfection and roughness lends.

Ugh, it all creates such an internal conflict- like I want my art to be seen, to be loved yet I somewhat reject things it takes for the art to be considered objectively good & well rounded.

The harsh reality might just be that just because I see the beauty in imperfection, just because I know I've got this personal, very niche vision of what 'good' sounds like/looks like in my mind, that doesn't mean other people are going to find value in the same things.

Of course, maybe all of this is just pretentious excuses & my own self-hatred manifested (I don't actively hate myself, I try to be much kinder to myself these days but yknow)

Anyway, I realised that it's the start of Bharani season in galactic centre mid-mula Ayanamsa today & I think this write up really aligns with that.

Thankyou for reading lol.. again, a bit of an angsty personal thing but maybe it could be relevant to someone, if y'all wanna know what Venusian artistic angst looks like in real time lmao 🖤🥀

#nakshatras #astrology #music #artist #aesthetic #vedic astro observations #venus

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thatpodcastkid · 3 months

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Magnus Archives Relisten 19, MAG 19 Confession

The Magnus Archives reinforces my stance that religion-based horror is the genre's peak.

Yes I was raised Catholic why do you ask

Spoilers ahead!

Facts: Statement of Father Edwin Burroughs regarding his "possession." Statement given May 30th, 2011.

Statement Notes: My biggest question is how the institute got this statement. Burroughs says it was probably difficult to arrange and is grateful for the chance to give the statement, so it implies that he sought out the institute. If so, how did he find out about them? It's also possible that the institute sought out a statement from Burroughs, but why? Gertrude would likely understand his importance or at least would have attempted to follow up on the Hilltop Road Case, so it's likely if Burroughs did not actively seek out the institute, she found him.

The idea that Father Burroughs would reach out to give a statement is really great to me, though. He's coming from a culture that stresses the need to admit every transgression in order to remain perfectly morally pure. In giving his statement, Burroughs is seeking absolution. It's literally titled "Confession."

Though likely unintentional, Jon reading this statement furthers the idea that, at least in the world to come, he is the closest thing the TMA universe has to God. By Season 5, he is omniscient, all powerful, and simultaneously merciful and punishing. He takes Burroughs confession, judges it, and then moves on. Burroughs is haunted his entire life, but Jon--the absent God--hears hundreds of people's confessions and doesn't do anything. He just watches.

Continuing with the idea of religious horror as an extension or offshoot of eldritch horror, this episode utilizes fear of the sin inside oneself really well. In my experience, the fear of going to Hell or being punished for one's sins is lesser in Catholic circles than the fear of being a sinner. The idea that something inside of you is inherently wrong or evil is a common one across religions, so it makes sense that to destroy Burroughs mind and bring his worst fear to life, the entities would make him believe there is a demon inside of him. The evil isn't attacking him, but is a part of him. His worst fear is himself.

The demon attempting to "steal" Burroughs faith is really terrifying. The implication that something so immutable and intangible cannot only be taken away, but can be used by another being. The demon isn't destroying Burroughs faith, but keeping for itself.

What I find really interesting is how different the things Burroughs describes in this statement are from the second part of his statement. The pace really picks up between MAG 19 and MAG 20, in addition to the subject shifting. Burroughs changes from an observer of other people's torture to experiencing his own. This change really amped up my anxiety as I went from 19 to 20.

Entity Alignment: Anything Hill Top Road related is immediately a mixed bag of nightmares. Being a demonic possession episode and the "mentis" writing on the wall, the Spiral comes to mind. Bethany's degrading mental health after moving into her new home does align with the environmental triggers that usually accompany a Spiral episode. Additionally, Bethany and Burroughs both lose control of their minds and bodies, in line with the Spiral.

The eventual cannibalism does implicate the Flesh, however. I wonder how often the Flesh interacts with a religion that literally consumes the body and blood of its lord. (Side note, but "We'll get to the cannibalism," is now up there with "I feel like I should be upfront with this, I'm probably a cannibal," as my favorite lines a character says within the first 10 seconds of a statement.)

Hill Top Road does implicate at least some connection to the Desolation. But either way, in MAG 20, many more entities come into play as Burrough possession and hallucinations develop. Read my next blog for some thought on that if you would like.

Character Notes: Sarcastic Jon re-enters the arena with a steal chair!

"When it is found by myself, or given the state of the Archive's mismanagement, by my successor when I pass away from old age."

Oh sweetie, you think you're going to get an old age? That's adorable

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anabdaniels · 11 months

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Cowboytober Day 13- Daddy kink/DDLG

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Plus Size Female Reader

Word counting: 2k

Rating: 18+

Warning: Oral (f receiving), praising, undertones of body worship, low self-esteem, spooning sex.

Masterlist

Part 2: Cowboytober Day 29.

Jack had procrastinated his retirement from the agent life for a good amount of time, always thinking that he could stay on the field for a few more time, but when he realized that you two would end up getting married, he didn’t hesitate to end his career as an agent; he couldn’t bear the idea of how much you would suffer if something serious happened to him and just his work at the distillery was enough stress for him. Furthermore, his time already was well spent taking care of you, after all, you weren’t just his wife, but also daddy’s good girl.

When you decided to tell him that you were into all the daddy stuff, you were ready to receive a no about it but ended up that Jack seemed deeply interested in the whole concept, asking you a lot of questions about it and, after he spent a few days pondering and doing unending researches, you two were finally sitting to discuss how it would work and establish limits and rules.

After the first practical try, you were a bit incredulous about the fact that he wasn’t familiar with such a thing, because he was damn good with it, almost like a natural talent, especially when it comes to finding a good balance between pampering and discipline you. Jack spoiled you rotten every single day, but he was strict with rules; thanks to his businessman side, you had a carefully planned list of daily activities to do, and you couldn’t cheat about it, he would carefully inspect if you had done everything and you could bet, he would give you a punishment for it, even that he was too soft-hearted to give you hard penalties.

On that afternoon, you were focused on the task you had: organizing all your stationary material. Usually, you had more than one thing to do, but at the weekends it used to be only one or two easy tasks, just to keep you entertained while Jack was around the ranch taking care of the animals.

When you were taking a final look at your now perfectly aligned desk, you heard Jack entering the bedroom, and looked directly at him with a proud smile, expecting his reaction excitedly, still sitting on your chair.

“Well, well, seems that my baby had worked hard while I was out.” He smiled while resting his hands on your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“I’m still not sure about organizing it by color.” You said while looking at the desk again.

“Don’t worry about that, you’ve done an incredible job, babygirl.” Jack grabbed your chin softly, making you look at him and kissing the tip of your nose “Now c’mere, darling.” He grabbed both of your hands, making you get up and walk towards the bed, sitting on its edge and placing you on his lap “You’ve behaved very well this week, so you’re getting a reward. Anything you want, my love.” He said calmly while caressing your hair.

“Anything?” you asked excitedly, smiling openly when he nodded “I already know what I want.” You affirmed while leaning forward to rub your face on his neck with your arms wrapped around his waist.

“What a naughty girl.” He chuckled and grabbed your thighs “Are you sure? From everything you can ask, that’s what you want?”

“Yes, I want you, daddy.” You answered rubbing your cheek on his jaw.

“Then you should receive.” He grabbed your face between his hands and kissed your lips softly for a brief moment “Help your old daddy and take off your dress.” You nodded and obeyed promptly, getting rid of your dress. Jack leaned back to take a good look at you, grabbing your thick waist, and caressing it gently. “Seems that someone is finally obeying the rule of no underwear at home.” He mentioned with a smirk and moved on the bed, lying you on your back “Does my beautiful girl have any special request?” you shook your head negatively and he smiled “You’re so easy to please, my love.” He approached his face of yours, kissing you slowly. You sighed softly and passed your arms around his neck, relaxing under his body.

Just when you needed to catch your breath, Jack moved down, kissing your neck and caressing the sides of your body, making you soften even more on the bed. He planted a soft kiss on the space between your breasts while cupping both of them and rubbing your nipples softly, making you sigh and squirm on the bed. He kept going down, kissing every inch of your chubby belly, moving one hand to caress your skin, and taking his time to caress and kiss your rounded lower stomach.

You could only whimper and grab his hair when he finally moved his mouth between your legs, directing all his attention to your needy clit while gently pinching your nipple with his other hand still on your lower stomach, massaging that region. You propped in one elbow to take a look at the whole scene, loving the vision of him buried between your legs, looking very pleased to be there, licking and sucking your clit with an unfair precision.

The hardest you were trying, your hips started to make small involuntary moves, which resulted in you choking on your breath when you moved against his face, making his nose and mustache rub slightly on you. You could hear his satisfied chuckle with that scene and he seemed to want to mess a bit more with you as he intensified his rhythm, putting a bit more pressure on your lower stomach, circling and rubbing your nipple with his fingertip.

As much as you wanted to enjoy it longer, you couldn’t resist that amazing view of your man so invested on please you and being so damn good at doing it. You allowed your body to be taken by that pleasure that had been growing in your womb, tightening your grip on his hair and moaning considerably loudly, getting even more wet as you reached your climax, collapsing on the bed right after it.

You honestly couldn’t say how long you remained with your eyes closed while calming yourself, the only thing you knew was the pleasant surprise you had when you opened your eyes, noticing that Jack had got rid of his clothes while you were catching your breath. He lay by your side, caressing your cheek softly while admiring your face.

“You look so pretty like that, my love. Now tell me, how would you like to receive your reward?” you thought for a moment and looked away, feeling stupid by the option you considered.

“It’s up to you, daddy. The one I’d like it’s not an option.” You answered the softest you could.

“I’m the one who’ll decide that, now tell me.” Despite being demanding, his tone was warm, when you shook your head negatively, Jack grabbed your chin, making you look at him “Sweetheart, daddy is demanding an answer. Don’t ruin your good behavior now, baby. Tell me what I want to know.”

“Spooning.” You answered in a low tone, closing your eyes for a moment.

“And why do you think it ain’t an option?” his tone kept soft and his fingers were still holding your chin.

“I know I’m too big for that.” You answered feeling your cheeks getting slightly red.

“Where did you get these absurd ideas from?” he chuckled and pulled you closed, giving you a soft peck on the lips “We’ll certainly discuss this later, but for now, I’ll give my precious girl what she wants.”

Gently, he turned your body on the bed, holding you from behind and kissing the curve of your neck, then moving his hand down, splitting your legs, letting your lower leg rest on top of his thigh. You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes when the tip of his cock rubbed against your wet cunt, before he slid slowly inside you, letting you feel how every inch filled you.

Jack moved his hand up to your stomach, gently grabbing your soft flesh while kissing your shoulder and moving his hips at a constant calm pace. His other arm was under your neck, your head rested on his bicep while his hand laid on your chest, caressing your breasts. You moaned quietly and placed one hand on his forearm that was in your waist, and your other hand moved to squeeze your pillow.

Even if you needed to, you wouldn’t be able to remember when was the last time you had been so relaxed and comfortable as you were in that moment, feeling the warmth of Jack’s hands and body on your skin while making love with you was unquestioningly the best thing you ever felt.

You turned your head while reaching for him and Jack promptly got the message, approaching his face of yours and kissing you passionately, while still caressing your chubby tummy that he loved so much, he had even established a rule that he could give you a punishment if you kept with your mean comments about it or any other part of your body; he couldn’t accept your unfair criticism about the absolutely breathtaking beautiful body you had.

After some moments, you wondered if it had been a good idea to kiss him in such a pleasant position because you had plenty of awareness that you wouldn’t hold yourself back for too long, it felt so good to have him all over you like that. When you involuntarily squeezed his cock inside you, Jack got the confirmation he needed to be sure that you were close to your climax and he couldn’t be more thankful about it, once he knew he couldn’t last much longer. Having your beautiful curved body that close to his while he could touch every inch of your skin aroused the poor man to a whole new level.

Feeling his self-control about to betray him, Jack moved his hand down, touching your clit at the same pace he was thrusting into you, making you moan and squirm, sinking your nails into his forearm as he pushed you to the limit. When finally, you reached your orgasm, Jack whimpered quietly, moving his hand back to your stomach, groping the region slightly rougher than before. His hand that was on your chest moved to find yours, making you let go of the pillow, intertwining his fingers on yours, and squeezing your hand as he came deep inside you. Finally, both of you needed to recover your breaths, breaking the kiss, but keeping your faces closer. You moaned quietly as Jack kept moving, leading you to another orgasm, making you clench around him tighter than before as you enjoyed another climax.

When none of you two could handle it anymore, he started to decrease the move of his hips until he stopped completely, burying his face in your neck while he tried to get his composure back, both of you breathing heavily and sweating considerably. After a few minutes like that, even with the feeling of your skin sticky, you were about to fall asleep, getting a bit more awake when Jack kissed your cheek.

“Stay awake, darling.” He asked softly and you needed a lot of effort to open your eyes.

“But I’m tired, daddy.” You complained in a slurred voice.

“I know that, my angel.” He cupped your cheek and caressed it with his thumb “But you need a bath. You can take a nap after it.”

“Alright.” You answered in a lazy voice, rubbing your eyes to try to stay awake.

“And, by the way, since this was supposed to be your reward but I’ve enjoyed it as much or even more than you, you are still allowed to ask me anything you want.” He told you in a warm voice and kissed your forehead, carefully taking you in his arms and walking to the bathroom.

Cowboytober Masterlist

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #kingsman: the golden circle #pedrostories

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