#To the Angels she was a messiah

[cauli-flawa]

I’m normal

Tag the OC that is/was/probably will be in a toxic relationship

.

[starchildghost]

opening up twitter to see Angel City FC is up 7-0 at the half

[moistvonlipwig]

you know i do think if you're going to critique the misogynistic treatment of a female character you should perhaps consider not blaming her for her own rape. just a thought 😁

[cuppajj]

What if the ancients also corrupted and became beasts, and it's one great cycle of futility?

some info on the beast ancients:

Saint Vanilla Cookie, after deducing that the horrors and cruelty of the world are caused by the darkness in cookies' dough, formed a messiah complex. Believing he is the only one who can save Earthbread, his extreme compassion for the happiness of cookies has made him an angel of death; though he believes he is purifying those he touches, he believes their cries of pain from their disintegrating bodies are simply a part of the healing process. He has brought his willing followers to salvation, and seeks to do the same for all of cookiekind.

Midnight Lily Cookie became the new monarch of the Faerie Kingdom after the death of Elder Faerie Cookie. When she turned to the path of darkness, her fiercely loyal subjects followed with her, sworn to protect her at all costs. While she holds no ambitions for conquest, she has vowed to assert the influence of her kingdom across Beast Yeast on her own terms, and to put an end to the false enchantress who shares her being.

Dragonberry Cookie reinstated herself as the monarch of her kingdom, keeping the royal family under her thumb and influence. Her passion for strength and combat drew her attention to the Red Dragon, whose power became her obsession. Now, she seeks to know how to become a great beast herself, and will do anything to achieve it; even keeping the Red Dragon shackled underneath the castle as it’s studied day in and day out.

Frigid Cacao Cookie learned to tame the Licorice Sea that had threatened his kingdom for eons; however, something of either his design or an external force led to the entire Cacao Kingdom freezing over. Cacao sat idly by as this happened, unmoving from his great throne with his head slouched and eyes unreadable. He has resigned himself to extreme solitude, but the swirling black ocean does his bidding in his favor.

Celestial Cheese Cookie never moved on from the truth. In fact, she chose to build everything from the ground up. How wonderful! She can bring her grand design to Earthbread itself, sharing her brilliance with all of cookiekind. Of course forging a new empire will come with resistance, but she is well prepared. For the devout, they will be graciously rewarded; the dissenters will become decorations. With the ability to summon as many arms as she needs, she can turn anything to gold with a simple touch.

With five new Beasts loose on earthbread, the fight to save it has become much, much harder…

[vavoom-sorted-art]

Of Kings And Kids - Chapter 1

Welcome to @gaiaseyes451 and my Christmas collab! We'll be publishing a chapter every day, whith the fifth and final chapter going up on the 26th of December!

Head to AO3 to read the entire chapter.

*~*~*

Aziraphale stood at the town’s well, clay cup in hand, and drank, grateful for the cool water. While the journey from Nazareth hadn’t been particularly arduous, the angel was happy for an opportunity to rest after traversing the loamy, rolling hills; especially after guiding a flock of sheep and goats for the last five days. Michael had assured him, when she was briefing him on the Mission Messiah assignment, that Heaven had an alias prepared this time. Somehow, Silas the shepherd who was leading his flock of bovids to Bethlehem for the autumn livestock auction was not precisely the backstory Aziraphale had expected. Nevermind that Bethlehem had never held a livestock auction before, best not to question these things.

Bethlehem was built around the town’s well which stood in the center of a courtyard. Most inns and lodging houses surrounded the well while private residences were scattered among the slopes. The city was surrounded by a modest wall with roads granting access from the North and South. The land itself was lovely rolling hills with lush grasslands and natural grottos, perfect for grazing livestock. It would have been conspicuous if a shepherd had moved at the same pace as a woman who was about to give birth, so Aziraphale had arrived ahead of the holy family. He was glad for the chance to get acquainted with the town and for the brief respite before the real work started.

Preparing for the arrival of the Messiah really was quite stressful.

Having filled his waterskin, Aziraphale was about to head off to one of the rest houses to sample the local cuisine when a familiar voice called out.

“Hello, angel!”

Aziraphale stopped short. While he was always happy to see this particular demon on his assignments, having him this close to the savior’s birth was a tad disconcerting. He turned and greeted him warmly, even if his smile was a bit cautious. “Crawly! Hello.”

“Ah, actually, call me Crowley.” He said, casually.

“Oh, have you changed your name?” Aziraphale asked.

“Nah, not officially. Just tryin’ it out for a bit. ‘Sides, little odd to have a nobleman called ‘Crawly’.” He said, gesturing to himself.

Aziraphale took a moment to take in Crowley’s garb.The demon was wearing his hair a bit longer, russet waves held out of his eyes by a beaded headband. He was clothed in his preferred hues in a deep charcoal robe and cloak made from fine linen with patterns embroidered in red at the neckline and hem. The cloak was fastened at the shoulder with an onyx snake broach and synched at the waist with a burgundy leather belt with a serpentine fastener. The robe drew his eyes down to strappy sandals that accentuated Crowley’s calves. His wrists were adorned with wide, silver cuffs that emphasized his svelte arms and long fingers.

Aziraphale dragged his eyes back to Crowley’s face and attempted to make eye contact through the dark lenses. “Well, hello, Crowley. What brings you to Bethlehem?”

*~*~*

Keep reading on Ao3 to see additional illustrations! We'd love to hear your thoughts! Find all chapters and additional content for this story here.

big thanks to @goodomensafterdark for the support!

Happy Holidays and Happy Reading!

[thewordfortheday]

”I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.”  (Luke 1:38)

That was Mary's response to the angel, when he told her that she was going to bear God's Son through the power of the Holy Spirit,the Messiah, God’s people had been waiting for hundreds of years. Imagine that! Mary was a virgin, she would surely be scorned as an immoral woman, maybe even stoned.  It was unthinkable. But Mary trusted God and wanted to do His will no matter the cost. Perhaps you can relate, perhaps you are facing an insurmountable challenge. Like Mary you want to do God's will for your life. Ask Jesus to help you to stand firm until He brings every promise He's made to you to fruition. Ponder and treasure His Word in your heart and pray for the Lord’s guidance and blessing. May the Lord establish you and fill your heart with joy and peace this Christmas Season.

[maxislvt]

Fallen into Lust

pairing(s): fallen angel!succubus!agatha harkness x angel!reader

summary: curiosity didn't fare well in heaven, but agatha always had a burning desire to learn more. it was only a matter of time before the angels properly kicked agatha out of heaven. despite what you insist, being pushed from heaven changes an angel even if they hadn't properly fallen.

warnings: religious imagery and discussion, smut, loss of virginity, afab!reader, innocence kink, fingering, oral sex

a/n: shout out to literally the best baby big sister ever @our-blood-is-our-ink for requesting this. I love it so much.

Event Masterlist

Agatha was always an intelligent angel. She was curious about everything since the day she was created. She chewed curiously on her halo and plucked the feathers of her archangel's wings to examine the gold-dusted feathers. 

It was safe to say she never grew out of that phase. She'd read just about every version of the holy book she could get her hands on. Even the ones written by humans that were foolish and twisted the words of her lord. Agatha wanted to know more. She'd sneer at how carelessly humans would write their baseless ideals amongst words so pure and sacred. It was frustrating to see that nearly every holy book had been tainted by the violence of humans. 

To make matters worse, not a single deity, angel, or god seemed worried about it. Some of them were bad enough to encourage or profit from it. They placed bets and laughed as their creations slaughtered each other senselessly. 

Despite their holy status, many other angels didn't seem to care. Agatha's concerns were often met with scuffs and eye rolls. Not a single heavenly body cared as much as she did. Their hatred was so intense they began turning Agatha away. Some would turn their backs on her. 

Not you, though. You were different. Agatha's proclamations were above you, but you were kind enough to stand up for her. When the other angels would gossip or go out of their way to exclude Agatha, you'd be right there to defend her. Maybe you couldn't wrap your head around human politics, but you at least tried to listen. That was all Agatha cared about. You stayed. Even when her rants were incomprehensible and nothing more than a string of frustrated scuffs and grunts. 

Unfortunately, you were pretty popular amongst the other angels. It wasn't a shock. You were practically the perfect angel: kind, understanding, innocent. They'd huddle around you like you were the Messiah just to coo at you and praise you for the most minor thing. Agatha hated it. Not because you didn't deserve that praise, but because she was jealous.

Jealousy was a two-sided street. Every Time you dared to choose Agatha over your friends, she'd have to deal with it. They'd scold her endlessly for taking you away and corrupting you with her "nonsense." 

You'd only vaguely known about the conflict. Your friends would grumble about your tardiness or absence, and Agatha would always give you vague answers when you asked why she didn't get along with your friends. It was nothing more than a personality conflict in your head. Agatha was hungry for knowledge, but your friends were much more easygoing. 

Personality conflicts don't end with ripped wings and cracked halos. 

The day Agatha was brutally shunned from the community of angels was quiet. It made your stomach churn. The other angels said nothing, but you could feel something was off. You spent the entire day roaming around heaven. Then you found something. 

Surrounded by torn feathers and liquid gold laid a deformed halo. You didn't think twice before leaping off the clouds of heaven into the earth. Only gods had the authority to banish someone from heaven. If their halo was still glowing, they'd been pushed off. 

You searched the thick forest for any sign of a fellow angel—feathers, blood, or maybe even another halo. Instead, you found something worse. A silver ring with AH engraved on it.

Agatha had fallen. 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

"Agatha, Agatha!" 

Your voice was hoarse at this point. There was no telling how long you'd been screaming. Time was irrelevant to you know. All that mattered was finding Agatha. Even if she was dead, somebody had to pay for their crimes. The golden trail of blood confirmed your fears. Agatha wasn't cast out of heaven; she'd been pushed. 

"Agatha! Oh, thank heavens you're alive!" The relief of finding Agatha was short-lived. You ran over and immediately tried to help her onto her feet. "Come on, I have to get you back to heaven, and I'll report whoever did this to you." A frown overtook your face when Agatha pushed you away. 

"I can't go back up there. I've fallen." Her voice was weak, and she could barely stand upright. Agatha leaned against the tree for support to avoid staining your sweater. "You..you shouldn't be with me either. Just go back up there and pretend I don't exist." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Being alone was a pretty scary thought, but she couldn't risk you being tainted by Earth. "I've fallen. I couldn't go back up even if I wanted to." 

Your chest felt tight. "No, just because you fell from heaven doesn't mean you're a fallen angel! I saw your halo before I came down there; it was still glowing!" You frantically searched your satchel for gauze and something to clean the wound. "I just have to get you patched up, and then-" 

Agatha's hand reached out and caressed your cheek. "You can't carry me back to heaven by yourself. At least give me some time to heal first." She could never bring herself to make you upset. Deep down, she knew there was no way she could return. Part of her didn't even want to. Even if God extended his grace to her, there was no telling how the other angels would react to her return. "I know somewhere for you to take me." 

The walk was sad and slow.

Agatha seemed reasonably adjusted to living on Earth. She didn't doubt herself as she guided you through the never-ending forest. She wasn't concerned about wildlife or getting lost, even in her weakened state. You would've mistaken her for a nymph if you hadn't known better. It only took about an hour of walking for you to figure out why Agatha was so relaxed. 

She had a cabin. It was pretty large, but you could tell that Agatha used every square inch of it. The shelves were jam-packed with books of all kinds in many different languages. Even though the kitchen was spotless, you could tell she'd been using them for a while. The decor felt so natural to her. All the deep purple furniture was taken care of, but not brand new. 

 You were glad Agatha had somewhere to rest while she recovered, but you felt excluded from her life. Agatha was your closest friend. It wasn't right to feel so alienated in her space. 

Agatha limped to her room before collapsing on the bed. All the pain from walking with untreated wounds had started to catch up to her. Angels healed fast, but without her halo, she'd be bedridden for weeks. "I've always wanted to take you down here," She confessed. 

It made you smile. "I appreciate that." The smell of holy alcohol was awful, but you had to commit. "This is going to burn a bit." You rubbed the alcohol-soaked towel against the ripped skin where Agatha's wings should've been. It was hard to look at, but you suffered through it for her sake. Every feather you plucked came with a hushed apology and a kiss on her back. "They'll grow back soon…I promise." 

Agatha didn't have much faith but wouldn't bring you down with her nihilism. She wasn't even sure you knew what that was. "It'll be a long time until then." She raised her arm so you could tend to the rest of her wounds. She didn’t want to push you away. She didn’t want to suffer another beating, either. There was no telling what being on Earth would do to your mind. Angels were strong, but you were definitely on the softer side. It would be nothing for you to fall victim to the whim of a mountain lion or any other of god’s wild creations. Heaven was the only place for someone as pure and perfect as you. 

You rolled Agatha onto her back so you could see her face. “I don’t mind waiting,” you said. There was a long pause as you thought about what you had said. “Well,” you said, bracing for rejection, “I wouldn’t mind waiting with you.” Earth was new to you, but you figured it’d be no issue if you stayed in the cabin the whole time. Agatha was the only reason you were down here. You had no interest in anything else.

She let out a defeated laugh. How could she ever say no to you? Her hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. “You’ll have to go back to heaven eventually,” she warned. It didn’t hold much water. All you had to do was pout, and you could easily make Agatha change her mind, but she at least had to pretend she wasn’t on the edge of spoiling you rotten. “Every day you spend down here is a day you must stay in heaven, got it?” Agatha extended her pinkie finger out to you. She didn’t know where you got the idea of a pinkie promise, but it was cute. 

Without thinking, you wrapped your pinkie around Agatha’s. You knew it was only a matter of time before Agatha started a pinkie promise. “And you said you’d never start a pinkie promise!” 

Agatha fondly rolled her eyes. "I'll always make an exception if it means keeping you safe." 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

Leaving Agatha was hard, but returning to her was confusing. 

You had spent two weeks on Earth with Agatha before she forced you to return to heaven. It was a dreadfully long time without her. You occupied yourself with your heavenly duties, but not even those could distract you from how much you missed her. 

When you finally saw her again, Agatha looked different. Her hair was curlier and seemed to be growing by the second.  You also noticed there were bags under her eyes. It wasn't typical for an angel's appearance to change so drastically unless they were promoted. 

"Do you think you'll become an archangel when you return?"

Agatha stopped chopping the vegetables in front of her. She knew you would notice the way she was changing. You weren't dumb. Just uneducated. Agatha hated how everyone in heaven fawned over you; she wanted to protect your innocence. "Maybe, but if anyone gets promoted to archangel, it should be you." She cut off the end of a carrot before handing it to you. "You were only here two weeks, and there's already vegetables growing around here." 

You tentatively chewed on the carrot. Then you lit up. 

Literally. 

Your excitement was too much to contain and showed in the form of a blinding light admitted from your halo. It filled the entire cabin within seconds and lasted nearly a whole minute. 

Agatha rabidly blinked and rubbed her eyes. "That's one way to say they taste good," she chuckled. 

You frowned. "I didn't realize Earth was so dim." Heavenly light was the brightest light imaginable. Agatha should've been used to such brightness, but you brushed it off as her eyes adjusted to the forest's darkness. "It's nice to see something that's not white, gold, or silver, but the forests are so dim down here." 

As the day went on, you started noticing other changes about Agatha. 

Being on Earth changed her preferences a bit. When you two would read together, the books were usually nonfiction. It wasn't uncommon for you to sit down and read through an entire book about alchemy or astronomy. It was always fun to watch humans scramble and debate about their inaccuracies about the planet they lived on. 

Now, Agatha seemed interested in more fictional things. Romance was her go-to for reading. You didn't mind it. Love was beautiful, even if it was trapped between print and paper. The problem was that the novels would get weird. Not bad, but sometimes you needed help understanding what was happening.

The only way you'd learn is by asking. 

"I don't know what this means," you confessed. The blush on your face was from shame. Agatha had taught you so much, yet you didn't understand such a simple book. "The words make sense, but I can't figure out what they're doing." You sunk back into Agatha's chest and looked away from the book. This was the third book where the actions were almost impossible for you to imagine. You should've said something sooner, but it embarrassed you. 

"That's okay. What don't you understand?" Agatha was quick to spread your thighs. "It's very physical; it's easier to explain if I can do it to you." Her hands massaged your thighs in just the right way to get you to relax. The thought of touching you had become overwhelming. Agatha was starting to feel things she'd never felt before. She'd heard many names for it. Love, lust, desire. All of them were genuine feelings, but she wasn't sure which one described how she felt. "Don't be shy. I won't judge you." 

You turned back a few pages and scanned them to find one of the words. "Well, a lot of it doesn't make sense. What's a clit, and what does fingering mean in this context? I thought you fingered instruments. How do you do that to a person?" You flipped back even further. "And why does it say she's wet all the time? Does she have a bladder problem?" 

Agatha could only smile. She rolled down your shorts until the top was at the middle of your thighs. It was indeed a blessing how thin the underwear in heaven was.  Her thumb rubbed tight circles around your clit. "This is your clit. It's a bunch of tiny little nerves down there." She wrapped her free arm around your waist to keep you still. "It's really sensitive, so you have to be careful." Feeling your squirm and wiggle was so much fun. "And if you keep rubbing it just right-"

"I feel sticky!" You would've jumped out of Agatha's lap if she wasn't holding you. A strange buzzing formed under your skin. It was so warm and inviting but so bold and new at the same time. Sitting still was nearly impossible. "Is it supposed to be sticky," you asked frantically.

 Agatha rubbed your stomach to ease your frantic nerves. "You're fine. Everything is fine. That's what it feels like when you're wet." Just one finger had a difficult time slipping into your cunt. You were untouched. Free of corruption and ready to be claimed. She kissed up the side of your neck to ease your nerves. "When you start moving, that counts as fingering." 

A shaky breath tumbled from your lips. You were too overwhelmed to speak. It felt like a tight knot under your stomach, and you just wanted to pull the right string and watch it all unravel. Agatha was close to hitting the right spot, but you were too shy to ask. 

Just before that knot could unravel, Agatha pulled her fingers away. She reveled in the way your breathing staggered. You were a mess — her mess. "Does that answer your question?"

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. "Um, I think that's everything." It was far from everything, but you weren't even sure where to start. So you just sat there in silence. You're too flustered to pretend to read anymore. "Can we go for a walk after we finish this chapter? I need to clear my head." 

"Anything for my superstar," she said. Agatha was a bit disappointed she couldn't play on your curiosity, but she had plenty of time to teach you. It wouldn't be long before Agatha had you begging for it. 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

"You're a succubus." 

It's not an accusation. Rather, you stated a fact that had taken you almost four months to realize, but the truth nonetheless. 

Agatha stopped reading as she pondered what you said. She wasn't an angel anymore, and being a human wasn't possible. It would explain her seemingly unsatisfiable appetite and the constant desire to have you. Though she could feel her body was changing, it appeared rather underwhelming. "I guess you're right."

You sat up and looked down at Agatha. "You'll never be able to come back to heaven." It broke your heart. All you wanted was to be with Agatha forever. How was that supposed to happen if she was stuck on Earth — or worse, be forced to live in hell? Your chest tightened, and you felt hot tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry. Nothing is going to change between us." Agatha wiped away your tears. "I promise what we have down here is much better than anything we could make up there." She kissed your lips firmly. Heaven was the least of her concerns. Agatha wanted to be with you. It didn't matter where you two were. "Earth has the both of us, a nice cabin, and a magnificent garden. What else do we need?" 

You sniffled as you considered Agatha's words. "B-but, who are you going to feed from? I don't want you running off and doing that with other people!" A moment of silence passed between the two of you. Then your face got hot. "I don't know how to do any of that stuff. Are you sure you want to do that with me?" Your face felt incredibly hot. Intimacy was a mostly unexplored area for you. "What if I'm so bad at it that you end up starving?" 

"I don't think that's how it works," she said affectionately, "but I think it'd be better if we found out." Agatha pinned you down to the bed. It was much nicer having you underneath her. You looked like a scared doe. "You're too cute for your own good," she whispered before kissing you. 

You held on to the collar of Agatha as you feverishly kissed her back. It felt good. You turned your head and tried to collect your breath. "Will it hurt?" You trusted Agatha, but you were terrified. "Do I have to take all my clothes off?" 

"I'd never hurt you." Agatha immediately leaned down to attack your neck with open mouth kisses. She cursed the fact every angel in heaven was so nosy. All she wanted was to stake her claim over you, but there was no telling how they'd react. "I've seen you naked plenty of times before." 

You chuckled nervously. "Yeah, but it's a little different when it's like this." Despite your apprehension, you let Agatha have her way. Each kiss she gave you caused goosebumps to rise. "Are you sure you've never done this before? It feels really good." A small gasp escaped your lips when Agatha's teeth dug into your hip bone. "Be nice!" 

Agatha just huffed at you before making her way lower. She loved the plumpness of your thighs, but they were in the way of what she wanted. You were more than wet enough for Agatha to do as she pleased. "Fuck you taste so good," she moaned after licking a long strip up your slit. Two of her fingers eased inside your hole while her tongue lapped at your sensitive nub. "You're adorable." 

Your body twisted and squirmed as Agatha pleased you. It felt weird being so wet. Your slick had ruined the bedsheets. "Agatha, I don't know if I can take more of this!"  Your hand tangled in her hair. One moment you were pulling her away, and the next, you pushed her closer to your cunt. "I think something is happening!"

Agatha wrapped her arms around your thighs to keep them open. She continued her assault until the inevitable happened. Her tongue stuck out flat, so no matter which way you turned, your clit would run against it. Your cunt still sucked in her fingers as greedily as it did the first time. Not a single drop of your cum was wasted. Agatha would've easily pushed you into a second orgasm if it weren't for the particularly hard push you'd given her. 

Your body collapsed against the bed. Once again, you had many questions, but all of them would go unasked. Not because of shame— that was long gone now—but rather because of how tired you were. Just the thought of speaking was too much for you. 

Agatha looked down at you with nothing but love in her eyes. Your sweaty, desperate body was like art to her. It was the only thing she wanted to see. She leaned down and kissed you passionately. "You were more than enough for me. I never want to hear you doubt yourself again." Agatha slipped her arms underneath you and lifted you. "I know, but you have to get clean." 

It was your turn to let out a defiant huff. Unlike Agatha, you didn't have a disobedient bone in your body. You let Agatha bathe and redress you, along with all the other little details she loved to fuss over. You felt so small and helpless, but you liked it. Everything felt right. Agatha could never return to heaven, but that didn’t matter. Home was down on Earth with the woman you loved the most. Being an archangel was just more work, anyway.

[why-bless-your-heart]

@audreythevaliant the real question is why some Christians don’t believe she remained a virgin. We have writings stating that she was a perpetual virgin from as early as the 120s, and it was solidified as doctrine in the 400s, shortly after the biblical canon was affirmed. Even Martin Luther asserted that she was a perpetual virgin.

Apostolic tradition aside, we believe that she was a perpetual virgin because:

1. Her questioning of the angel only makes sense if she intended to remain a virgin after being taken into Joseph’s house. If an engaged woman intending to have natural relations with her spouse after marriage is told that she will conceive and her son will be the Messiah, she doesn’t ask “how can this be, since I have not known a man?” She assumes that she will have a child in the normal manner at some point down the line. Mary’s questioning of the angel shows that her virginity was her vocation, not just her state at the time.

2. She is the new ark of the covenant. The visitation of her cousin Elizabeth parallels the entrance of the ark into Jerusalem with King David. Just as David danced before the ark, John the Baptist leaps with joy. Elizabeth’s words — who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me? — echo David’s — who am I that the ark of my Lord should come to me? The ark of the covenant was so holy that Uzzah was struck dead for putting out his hand to steady it. It carried within it manna, the bread from heaven, Aaron’s rod, symbol of the priesthood, and the Ten Commandments, God’s word. The new ark of the covenant is even holier, because she carried within her the bread of life from heaven, the perfect priest and sacrifice, and the Word of God made flesh. Another word for holy, sacred, means “set apart.” Mary is the daughter of the Father, the mother of the Son, and spouse of the Holy Spirit. She is uniquely holy, and set apart by her virginity.

3. Joseph was a righteous man. A righteous man does not lay claim to what is God’s. It’s a matter of debate whether he believed Mary’s pregnancy was miraculous and so wanted to divorce her because he believed he was unworthy to take her into his home, or if he believed she had committed adultery and wanted to keep her from being put to death. Either way, we know it was only after he was told by the angel it was God’s will that he took her into his home, and we further know that he did not interpret the angel’s message to mean that he was expected to have relations with Mary. Which again, makes sense if the marriage was meant to safeguard Mary’s virginity rather than be consummated.

[elliewilliamsbitchh]

lottie matthews x reader!

got bored and wrote this :3

“the wilderness wants us together.”

“what?” you ask, your eyes wide. “what do you mean, lottie?” you sighed. she knew you didn’t believe in her messiah shit, you were more into believing science.

everyone was peacefully sleeping around you as you two leaned against the wall, the windows casting the moonlight of lottie, making her look angelic.

“it told me,” she said and lightly grabbed your face, looking into your eyes intensely, entrancing you. “it said we’re supposed to be together, it’s what is meant to be.”

god, she sounded serious! living in the wilderness for months on end had really gotten to her. you thought, shaking your head. “what’s this bullshit, lottie? the wilderness doesn’t want shit.” she said and gestured around. “if you want me you can just say it.” she slowly said. her big brown eyes were staring into you, like she saw your soul. you felt almost compelled to listen, to do what the wilderness says.

“i—“ lottie started, not really knowing what to say. sure, she did want you, but the wilderness had spoken to her. it told her that you were meant for her. “it said it, i swear.” she decided on saying, ignoring what you had said.

you sighed. “lottie, you know i don’t believe in that crap.” you looked away from her, her hands still holding your face. “no, y/n, you need to believe me.” she said and watched your eyes dance away, making her frown. “i do want you,” she started.

“but the wilderness needs it.” she whispered, her grip tightening around your jaw.

you looked back at her, your mouth slightly agap. you know it’s bullshit, you’ve known this.

then why is it so enticing?

it’s like your body was moving for you, like you were a ghost watching over yourself. your eyes moved to her lips and your hands mirrored her actions on your face on hers, cupping her face gently.

you couldn’t think about anything but lottie matthews.

it was like the fucking wilderness had currpted your body when you lunged forward and kissed her.

what the fuck is happening right now?

she kissed you back instantly, leaning down so it was easier for both of you. she kissed you with a passion from deep inside her, buried beneath the rage and sadness. all for you.

she pinned you against the wall, your back against the cold glass of the window.

“you shouldn’t fight this,” she whispered against your lips, brushing your hair out of your face. “we shouldn’t fight this.” her eyes had darkened as she stared down at you. she brushed her hands through your hair, smiling softly. she leaned closer to you, your noses brushing.

you felt conflicted. deep inside, something was making you feel like this was right. meant to be. you felt like you were going insane, being so close to lottie made you feel dizzy.

“i—“ you didn’t know what to say. you looked into lottie’s eyes, feeling calmer the longer you looked at her, the more you touched her. “i understand.”

this is what the wilderness wants.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, thank you for all the work you're doing! You're truly incredible! I have read through pretty much all of the hurt/comfort and protective!crowley/aziraphale fic I could find and I was wondering if you had any recommendations where one of them is only slightly hurt (or anything that isn't full on whump) and the other gets really overprotective and/or takes care of them

(no worries if not!)

We really appreciate all the work and effort you put into this blog! Thank you, you are life saviours

Hi! Here are some minor hurt/non-whump hurt and protective fics for you...

Of Rosaries and Burnt Palms by midnightdragons (G)

"Guh, shit, fuck," Crowley swore, clearly attempting to miracle the burn away but to no avail. He looked up at Aziraphale, who was frozen in shock and dismay, and his golden eyes, for once uncovered by his sunglasses, were so — so distraught, so full of distress and pain and betrayal, and — and did he think there was a chance that Aziraphale — that the angel had —? Aziraphale wears a rosary round the bookshop, and does not think of the consequences.

Safe and Sound by AmyPound (T)

Aziraphale enjoys a refreshing walk home from a new Thai restaurant but faces confrontation. Luckily Crowley's protect Aziraphale sense is always working.

Watching Over You by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Aziraphale is relaxing in Rome when he spots a disoriented Crowley. He saves the demon from nearly being run over by a cart, then realizes Crowley has been drugged. Worried, he takes his friend somewhere safe and watches over him.

Hell in a Handbasket by SaunterVaguelyDownward (T)

“I’m leaving, thanks for the wine.” Aziraphale blanched. “Crowley! Please. The last time we argued it almost led to the apocalypse and the time before that I didn’t see you for over one hundred years.” “And whose bloody fault were both of those?” he snapped. Aziraphale froze. “Mine, dear boy,” the angel replied simply and sincerely. He inhaled deeply, gathering himself. “Which is why I refuse to let it happen again.” His eyes were pleading, his expression serious as he reached out slowly and let his hand land gently on Crowley’s shoulder. The demon flinched and Aziraphale recoiled, his face filled with hurt. Crowley’s jaw clenched. “Well, maybe it’s my turn to be unreasonable.” In which the only way Crowley can be saved from a demonic curse is if his angel admits feelings of true love. But there's no way Aziraphale could ever possibly feel that way about Crowley...

This Time, The Princess Does the Rescuing by die_traumerei (E)

Crowley does not like horses. Horses do not like Crowley. But when Aziraphale's mount comes back without her long after she should have been home for a camping trip, there's no question of Crowley going out to find her and bringing her home. (In which Crowley rescues Aziraphale -- of course -- and brings her home. Featuring a lot of worried princess, a little bit of hurt, a ton of comfort, a touch of sick!fic and lots of conversation while they're both confined to bed. The same bed, needless to say.)

a moment's silence by viperinz (T)

Crowley rubs a hand down his face, sighing. “Then you know that you shouldn’t have done that.” “It was the only choice I had. If you got smitten—” Aziraphale swallows, feeling his back throb in pain. “You would have died right where you stood. I could not allow that.” Crowley’s mouth turns into a thin line, his fury radiating through the room. “So, what? It was better if it was you rather than me that took the hit?” “Yes!” Aziraphale exclaims, sitting up in bed. He winces as his back protests the movement, but he needs Crowley to understand. “You deserve better than what I was able to ever give you, and you need to help Muriel and the Messiah. If I ceased to exist, nothing would change the outcome of stopping all of this.” “No, you don’t get to say that.” Crowley walks up to the bed. “If you think I’ll ever stand to lose you again, then you’re bloody wrong. The outcome would be different because I wouldn’t have you, you daft thing.”

After everything is said and done, Aziraphale has to learn to adjust to life on Earth after seven years of being in Heaven. Luckily, Crowley is there to help him heal, and to give him the love that he feels he's lost.

- Mod D

[seramilla]

ok, so funny idea, carmilla when alive had a one night stand with sera and got pregnant, sense sera has all female parts, at least in human form, she assumes its from her late husband. the two girls are mostly human and dont really survive to the point where their angelic traits would have appeared.

peter is very confused when he checks the family into heaven and the daughters are marked as half angels

This is implying that Sera saw Carmilla from Heaven, came all the way down to Earth to do the horizontal tango with her, Zeus-style, and immaculately conceived Nephilim children Odette and Clara.

Or would that make the girls essentially...Jesus? Jesus-light? Some kind of Messiah children?

Honestly, I would be just as surprised as Peter. Mostly because I never knew Sera had that much swagger. The Sera in this universe has all the rizz and left none for the rest of us! Iconic.

[chaifootsteps]

Chai..🤕 stolas fans under the sinsmas leaks are calling for the death of his daughter. Little Octavia.

They want Via to die for making this grown man cry. And seem to think it will be good 'development' for him and of course…..his ship. He can always give his love to his "new child" Loona they say. Some comments want Octavia to die with Stella because “it’s what she deserves” for questioning him instead of thanking him for staying with her even though (they say) she was conceived by “grape 🍇" And even Blitzø can die too if he doesn’t love stolas fast enough. "Loona is so useless for not snapping her sister out of it" others say.

I’ve been here since the Instagram days and I never in a million years thought we’d get here. Im scared of these people. They feel like delusional Ted Bundy and R Kelly fans with how they prop this man up. once-upon-a-stolas was right when they pointed out how cruel the new stoliz fans are. Like the one who said "blitz you dont deserve happiness on the beach unless you invited stolas!!!!!" Why are they so cruel to the characters stolas supposedly loves?

Why do they hate everyone in this situation who isn’t the owl….who clearly caused all of this? I think vivzie went wayyy too hard on the “sympathise with stolas” angle because now he’s treated by fans like a fucking messiah with angel wings. like how frollo sees himself.

The bar's lying in the dirt and these people still keep finding a way to go even lower.

[asha-mage]

WoT Meta: Prophecies, Fated Lovers, and Robert Jordan's knack for finding the nuance underneath the myth

One complaint I've never understood about the way Jordan writes romances is the persistent claim that he over uses the 'prophesied love' trope.

In part for me, I think it's a little bit folks not seeing the forest for the trees. WoT is fundamentally about the relationship between myth and reality: the place where the fallen angel meets the disgruntled academic, the bitter accountant, and the man who never got over being too short. It's a story where the messiah is real and dealing with chronic pain and PTSD from his stigmata. Where a legendary High Queen has to deal with both marching armies to the apocalypse, and the irritating banal realities of being pregnant at the same time. Of course Jordan digs into the idea of prophesied love- it's a huge theme in folklore and mythologies the world over. Jordan wants to dig into what it really means for there to be a person out there that you are destined to be with: that is a match for you, decreed so by the universe itself....and that you get absolutely no agency and choice in choosing. If anything Tumblr, which adores the 'red string of fate'/'soulmark'/'soulmates share pain'/'world is black until you look into your soulmates eyes' (to name a few of the more prevalent ones- some of which Tumblr practically invented), should be super on board for the parade of fated lovers to be found in WoT. It's nothing short of baffling to me that their not more fondly viewed.

And I think that is tied to the follow up complaint: the criticism that Jordan 'uses prophecy love as a replacement for a romance arc'. But that is something that is just. Patently untrue.

Cause the thing is that is how soulmates are often used...in the majority of soulmate au fanfics you find here and on AO3- an excuse to get the really hard part (two characters realizing they are right for each other and love each other, then having the communication skills to articulate that so they can start a relationship) out of the way, so the author can focus on the fluff or angst or other part they and the audience want to get to. And that's fine! But that's not at all what Jordan does. Just like he does with the Prophecies of the Dragon, or Elaida's fortellings, or even just most of Min's viewings- Jordan takes the idea of the prophecy soulmate, this person decreed by some higher power to be Perfect For You and being right about it, and digs deeper, shining it in different lights and attacking it from different angles. Jordan gives the concept of the soulmate teeth, explores the spines and the sharp points of it: is it real love if it's fated and not your choice? Can you trust your own feelings, or are they fate's design working against you as surely as Aphrodite worked against Helen or Eros against Apollo? What is it like, to see someone one day, and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would love this stranger? This question mark? This wildcard?

Rand's relationships with Min and Aviendha, as well as Mat and Tuon's courtship are great examples of this conundrum. Min and Aviendha have completely opposite reactions to the same information that demonstrates their unique strengths and weaknesses as characters and people, while Tuon and Mat's courtship is all about two people who know they will marry trying to figure out what that means, without ever confronting the reality of those prophecies directly.

Min, as befits a Seer who has learned time and time again that her viewings can not be changed, has resigned herself in an almost fatalistic fashion to all of them, and to loving Rand no less. Min knows that she, and two others, will love him, and she accepts its inevitability the same way she accepts Colavere's death, or Logain's glory, or the shattering of the White Tower. What is, is, and there is no sense or point in struggling against it. What concerns her a great deal more is what she doesn't know- she doesn't know if Rand will love her in return, she doesn't know the identity of the other two women who will love him, and she doesn't know if he will fall in love with one or both of the others but not her. Add to that Min's own insecurities about how she stands out and doesn't fit what her society deems 'proper', between her crossdressing, and her offputting manners, and it makes perfect sense that she's worried about making Rand love her. She doesn't mind sharing him- she hates the idea of being in love with a man who doesn't love her in return, of being stuck like 'Elmindreda' of the stories, sighing and pining endlessly for a man instead of being able to act, to take control of her own fate. 

So she takes control: she learns to flirt from Leane, works hard at making herself desirable, and also indispensable: with her visions, her advice, even just her emotional support to Rand when he otherwise has no one else. The irony is that whenever Rand thinks of Min prior to her return to his side in LoC, it's about how much he liked her earthy honesty and lack of wiles: how she was earnest and made him feel at ease, and didn't 'spin his head like a top'- and that's still what he loves about her after they get together: the fact that she isn't fooled by his front, that she sees him clearly and refuses to be driven away the way so many others are so easily. The point is that Min never had to change, and in the ways that matter she didn't- she only thought she did because of her own fatalism.

Contrast that with Aviendha, who, after learning about being destined to fall in love with Rand, does everything in her power to prevent that outcome- because she is a warrior, a soldier, who has never yet met a problem that could not be killed, endured, or retreated from. Aviendha values nothing so much as her honor and her word- she has promised to keep Rand safe for Elayne and what greater act of dishonor could there be in that situation then not just failing in that promise, but despoiling (and she does view it that way) said man herself? So she is awful to him in the hopes of poisoning the well of affection or at least keeping him far enough away that she is never tempted. Aviendha hurls contempt and anger at him, berates him, does everything short of trying to stab him in an effort to make him hate her, and it doesn't work. Despite all her efforts to keep her thorny wall up, they are literally made for each other and can not help but be drawn together time and again. Despite all her efforts to insist, to him and herself, that she hates him, she can not hide entirely that the opposite is true: that she likes him, sees his strength and courage and resilience, and is a little in awe of his generous kindness. 

This is why she vacillates wildly between wanting desperately to get away from him in The Fires of Heaven, to not wanting to leave his side: they are two planets caught in each other's gravity, with about as much chance of escaping each other. When she resorts to the last recourse of a soldier- retreat- and runs headlong into a blizzard that would surely kill her, Rand follows to try and save her life and she can deny the truth that she loves him no longer, nor can she resist taking him, even knowing that to redress that balance, she will one day have to offer her life to Elayne (as she attempts to do in LoC)- though fate still has other plans in store.

But in many ways the apex of this, the relationship that really shows Jordan's deconstruction of this trope, is Mat and Tuon. Before they ever lay eyes on each other, each is given a prophecy that they will marry the other: not that they'll love each other, not that they will be able to trust each other, not even that that will like each other: just that they will marry. And their strange courtship is a result of this knowledge, as each attempts to suss out the other, to try and understand them without ever overplaying their own hand. Each believes that the moment they admit their prophecy they will destroy any chance of real connection or understanding.

To Tuon, if Mat learns he is destined to wed her he gains something she can not abide: power over her, leverage that could be used to subvert her own plans and visions- because nothing matters more to Tuon than control, especially over herself. So she keeps her 'fortune' secret and tries to figure out: What will it mean to be married to Mat? Will he be a pretty trophy? A liability? A threat to her Empire? Will she have to kill him once she gets her heirs?

To Mat, if Tuon learns of his prophecy, she gains the power to take away his freedom, to snare and collar him and bind him to her, because that's how Mat deep down views marriage: as a binding cord, a loss of freedom, and nothing matters to Mat more than freedom. So he keeps his *Finn gained knowledge secret and tries to figure out: What will it mean to be collared by Tuon? Will she she treat him as a pretty and plaything the way Tylin did? Will she try to use him against Rand and the Westlands? Will she make him a slave and sent him to be beaten anytime he disobeys her? Will he have no choice but to fight her one day, this woman he is going to swear to spend his life with? Will he have to kill her the way he did Melindhra, and carry that guilt of mariticide on top of all else?

So the two stay in their strange limbo, because as long as they don't admit it out loud to the other, they can pretend they are still two people forced together by happenstance, and (each thinks) they can continue to try and understand and figure out the other, to find out where this inevitability of their marriage will really leave them, and if there can be even the faintest possibility of love in such circumstances. And that limbo- that protracted refusal to act as if they are under fate's direction- is what allows them to build a genuine bond of trust and respect for each other, and to start seeing the other person with the clarity that love requires. All this, so that when Tuon finally does play her hand, and reveal the truth....it's obvious they've long since fallen in love with each other (even though Tuon won't admit that to herself), and come to trust each other (even though Mat won't admit that to himself).

And the thing is- all of Jordan’s prophecy romances are written like this: from Egwene seeing that loving Gawyn might be both their downfalls in LoC and seeking him out anyways, to Perrin misinterpreting the 'falcon and hawk' viewing and thinking Faile is a danger to him when she's the love of his life, to Galad and Berelain not even being AWARE they’re fated to fall in love and just....do, at wild first sight (Another classic folklore/mythology trope). They also never find out:  always remaining unaware that the Pattern had long since decreed that they would be together and being incredibly funny/annoying about it. The prophesied love is an example of classic Jordan: taking a common, maybe even ubiquitous premise, and asking those complicating questions that allow him to write it as something much more nuanced and interesting and fascinating. And he gets no credit for it, send tumble.

[moistvonlipwig]

i will say that i do think jasmine genuinely loved cordelia. i don't think you choose someone to be your holy vessel unless you think they're pretty cool. which is funny to think about honestly. can you imagine jasmine watching over cordelia during her high school years and being like yes queen roast xander's outfit!!! someday i shall hijack your body and use it to usher in world peace ❤️

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

It is Easter Sunday.

She hangs back as the others walk. She wants to help, wants to do whatever she can for the Lord, and yet—and yet—

It is Easter Sunday, and she does not yet know what she will see. She weeps, and does not try to hide it. They thought he was the Lord, the Messiah—the Christos, as they might say in Greek. But three days ago they saw him hung on a cross, still thinking about them.

She wonders who will move the stone; she does not know it is already rolled away. She thinks of the spices she does not know will be unnecessary. She weeps again.

Instead of Roman soldiers, the little group of women see a stone, rolled away, and an angel sitting on it. She does not know what to think.

It is Easter Sunday, and the angel tells them that the Lord is risen. The angel tells women, who will not be believed, and she cannot believe him because it cannot be true.

But it is Easter Sunday. She sees a gardener as she remains to weep.

"Woman, why do you weep?" he says, and she tries to explain, and then he says:

"Mary!"

And the dawn is shining so vividly after the grief of the long night.

[romanceyourdemons]

if i was making alien 3 (1992) i would AMP up the weird christianity element of it. get a little funky with ripley as the virgin mary. you have been impregnated by god, and if you allow the thing she has planted among your organs to be born then that chitinous messiah will turn the whole world into angels. you are trapped among devout sinners who do not remember the face of god, and it is only through their intervention that you can destroy the deadly holy things that love you, that horrify you, that kill and do not know better