#and so i privately took a vow of celibacy

[exsqueezememacaroni]

"Mike's relationship to sex, whatever it might actually be, is mostly the product of a geeky guy being catapulted right into the lion's den of rock music stardom, armed only with his good looks and awkward smile."

I understand your point, but I think this comes from before his fame in FNM, I believe he always had difficulty dealing with sex, if the rumors are true he lost his virginity "a bit late" (I don't think it's cool to judge each person's timing, but you understand), I believe it was when he was 19, and he himself said that it was because he finds sex a bit automatic and without much feeling, and I honestly don't think he was joking, I think he really thinks sex is a bit boring. I think that's it 😆 I always saw him as ace. but I believe that behind his thoughts regarding sex there must be deeper things that we don't know, because he is a mystery and never talks about his personal life, and 90% of what he says is banter, so we can't consider a lot of things he says... I don't think we'll ever know. Come here, Mike, tell us

I think we definitely agree - I suppose what I meant was that, without stardom, Mike would have just quietly and privately had a slightly awkward and maybe later blooming/later developing relationship to sex...like so many people do (I think??). For sure I think his younger self might not have seen the point to [vanilla] sex, maybe in a natural predilection for kink. And i guess that's where my gray-ace interpretation comes in...like...he's into it, but it's gotta be the right connection, the right person, similar "interests" if you get my drift....and those who qualify are few and far between. Otherwise, meh. But since he is in the public eye, it kind of gives him free range to be over the top sexual...in a strange way it can free him from being a vanilla hearthrob while also protecting(???) him from the normal groupie scene...like....chanting "fuck me" and asking if your mom wants to fuck you before singing about being raped in prison like...he might have thought....that'll keep the masses away....(lol he was wrong)

[beneaththebrim]

WIP Wednesday: more from the dihua stabmarriage fic

from dihua server event collab with @/sumeriasmith

this passage's draft heading is "The moment DFS determines that SGD will have to die"

(also connecting somewhat with this shippy analysis post from earlier in the week)

CW: implied past sexual assault (sgd/lxy), period-typical racism

In his entire time training, amassing strength, and founding and leading the Jinyuan Alliance, Di Feisheng had never been so close to the goal he’d set out to achieve since he’d escaped Di Fortress at the age of twelve as he was now. There could be no mistakes at this stage.

Complete this task, and he would finally be free.

The price: another dubious collusion. A man who’d undermined him and pitted him against Li Xiangyi, the very same man he’d regarded back then as petty and mediocre, ambitious beyond his ability. A despicable man, but Di Feisheng had worked with despicable men—and women—before. There was no trust between them but an understanding of their goals.

And Shan Gudao was in the dark regarding Di Feisheng’s.

The hood was off, and they’d sealed their agreement, albeit in words. There was no wine and no ink; Di Feisheng knew better than to drink from his “allies’ ” cups at this stage. Everything that could be touched, consumed, or breathed here was liable to have been poisoned. He girded his inner force like a coiled, hissing snake, ready to trade venom for venom.

He desperately wanted to take in a breath of fresh air. He was already craving a stint at the waterfalls, where he could steal a moment’s ease before having to see Li Xiangyi again, as an enemy again.

Di Feisheng was about to take his leave when Shan Gudao addressed his retreating form in a gleefully conspiratorial tone:

“So, how was he?”

Di Feisheng paused. He turned slightly back, clasping his hands behind him.

“You mean?”

“My shidi, of course. The little slut, did you get a taste of him?”

Di Feisheng felt like a bucket of ice water had been upended over him. His face remained cold; he didn’t even allow himself to swallow.

Shan Gudao smiled smugly at him.

“Surely he would have made a pass at you? Ahh, he’s been an inveterate cut-sleeve since he came down the mountain. I thought I could break him of the habit, how he looked at men, how he looked at me. It was downright embarrassing, not to mention after he started the sect. Oh, I had him violently. But that little slut…” He shook his head, still smiling. “He liked it. No matter how many times I punished him.”

It was everything Di Feisheng could do to keep the murderous intent from flashing through his eyes. He turned the rest of the way around, eyeing the other man stonily.

Shan Gudao continued, “I’m surprised he didn’t make a pass at you, Di-mengzhu. How curious.” A sniff. “Perhaps he took a vow of celibacy after losing his dear, beloved shixiong, haHaHAHAHA—”

His bellowing laughter echoed throughout the chamber.

Di Feisheng waited until the noise died down before replying dryly, “Were all Nanyin royalty so lustful, or is it just a trait of the two living descendants? Li Xiangyi is my rival, not the object of my affection. Perhaps it has escaped your notice, but my sole interest is martial arts.”

At that, he turned back around with a flick of his robes.

“In the future, do not speak to me of such inconsequential matters.”

The moment he exited the Wansheng Sect’s grounds, he flew straight for the Jinyuan Alliance’s private areas, where the sound of crashing water could scrape his mind clean.

[thatpunkmaximoff]

Story: 5 out of 5 Smut: 4 out of 5

Wow. Just… wow.

I was not prepared for Father Bell or Poppy. Nor was I prepared for everything kicking off right away and Father Bell struggling lol.

The writing was excellent, the spice made me feel like I had to go back to church for confession, and I loved the romance of it all.

Father Bell only took up priesthood because of a tragedy that had befallen his family, so I was a little worried how everyone would take the news of Father Bell breaking his vows, so I was pleasantly surprised that everyone was nice to him.

It made me happy to know that he found his true calling, and that he found Poppy after so many months apart.

Now here are my rambling thoughts…

* “Several months ago, I broke my vow of celibacy on the altar of my own church, and God help me, I wouldn’t do it again. I am a priest and this is my confession.” — oh hell 😏

* “I never gave orders like that. Well, not anymore.” — Father Bell! Color me intrigued 😏

* Damn. She confessed ONCE and Father Bell is ready to dick her down 😂

* Poppy, you bold as fuck to tell Father Bell he’s hot as fuck when he’s popping a boner in running shorts.

* Oh my god, Poppy’s a stripper. A priest and a stripper. I love it.

* “My little lamb.” — holy fuck I’m going to hell.

* Goddamn. Like, what did I just read?! Against the piano? On the floor? That man ate her like it was his last meal.

* Aww. I love Millie. And her nickname for Tyler- Father What A Waste 😂

* Sterling called Poppy? Why do I get the feeling he’s gonna show up and notice something between Poppy and Father Bell? He’s gonna out them. I’m calling it now.

* She showed up at his house in a shirt with no bra while it was raining? Nice 👌🏼

* On the altar? Really, guys? 😂

* Damn, he really is jealous of Sterling lol.

* Not the holy oil 😨 😂

* Oh no. I hate to see them apart, but Poppy is making the decision she thinks is best at the moment.

* I knew Millie was going to find out!

* I FUCKING KNEW STERLING WAS GOING TO BE AN ASSHOLE!

* Aww. She chose Tyler. But I don’t trust Sterling. He’s gonna fuck shit up for Tyler.

* Oohhhh. Role play 😏

* Goddamn. That scene in the private room at the strip club. You go, guys 😂

* Holy shit. Is he really going to resign?!

* What the fuck, Poppy!? I’m so fucking angry right now.

* Fucking Sterling. I knew those pictures would end up going public. FUCK!

* Seven months later… fuck, why didn’t she reach out?

* He found her!

* Goddammit, Tyler. Stop fucking in churches 😂

* Aww. They got married 🥹

[apostolicattilan]

"Hey-"

Owen quickly sat up straight at his desk, looking a little embarrassed that he'd been falling asleep instead of reading paperwork.

"Sorry. Can I... ask you a question?"

"What is it Nathaniel?" Owen asked the assisstant priest with a sigh.

Owen was both glad and concerned about the door being carefully closed as Nathaniel stepped further into the room. He didn't like too many people seeing him so obviously unwell, pale and exhausted, but suspected there was some sort of uncomfortable conversation coming.

"We're buddies, right? You'd be honest if I asked you a personal-"

Owen stared at him for a moment, bewildered. "When have you known me to lie?" he asked patiently.

Where was this comming from? Normally the other priest was very open and chatty, not awkward and hesitant (that was usually Owen off-duty).

"Right. Good point," the blonde priest muttered. "But you have been different lately so I can't say for cer-"

"Father Evans!" Owen snapped impatiently, accidentally proving the others' statement true. He quickly mumbled an apology. "Please just ask whatever you were going to?"

Nathaniel nodded, took in and released a deep breath and simply got on with it, as he usually would. "Have you started using drugs?"

"What?"

"Well some of the elder parishoners came and asked me-"

Oh. Owen frowned. He suspected he knew which ones. Those who'd seen him when a certain visitor -Josh- had shown up in confessional and Owen had nearly (or was that technically?) assaulted him before taking him off for a private meeting.

"Nathaniel, you see me more than any of them do," he replied, struggling to keep his tone as patient as he usually would. It hurt that parishoners he'd thought of like friends would start assuming such damaging things about him.

Owen looked down at the paperwork on the desk in front of him, biting his lip as he struggled to keep his emotions under control. "You- You can search my room if you have to. You won't find anything. I'm not-"

"I have to ask," the assistant replied softly, his expression apologetic when Owen looked back over at him. "They haven't seen the exhaustion, or when you passed out the other day. They don't know you miss Masses to talk to doctors..."

But- There was clearly something else he'd heard. Owen could hear it in the man's tone.

"Uh... but there's an alternative story, other than the drugs one."

Owen sighed and nodded, glad at least he didn't have to push to get that confirmation. "...what is it?"

Nathaniel shifted, brushing a hand through his hair, avoiding looking at Owen directly. "They uh... a few of them were wondering if maybe you were..."

"What is it?" Owen asked tiredly.

"They thought maybe you were-" Nathaniel paused and cleared his throat, trying to work out how to reword what they had asked him. "-if you were uh, breaking your celibacy vows."

Owen couldn't help but scoff and roll his eyes. "At least call it as they would have. So they think I'm either using drugs or having an affair? With who then, hm?"

"Apparently there was a stranger they've seen you talking to? A man..."

He'd had a feeling that was going to be the case once Nathaniel had mentioned another rumour. There was no one else he'd been visually confirmed to be meeting with. And once was enough for people when they had too much free time and fell into sin with gossip.

Owen brushed aside the paperwork to the edge of the desk, making space to lay his head and arms down on the surface instead. "Great," he said flatly, giving up on trying to keep himself together. "Just what I need right now..."

After a short silence, Nathaniel wondered if maybe Owen had fallen asleep. He started forwards to go look, pausing briefly when Owen took in a sharp breath.

"Goddammnit, let him have peace, he's already sick enough..." Nathaniel muttered before asking "Is it hurting again?"

Owen lifted his head to give a disapproving look. Normally he'd verbally remind Nathaniel about using the Lord's name in vain, but he didn't bother, doubting it would be very effective while he was crying.

"Oh." Not the unwell hurting this time then. Nathaniel was at least relieved about that. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing an empty chair and pulling it over so he could sit beside Owen, wrapping a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'll do what I can to stop the rumours spreading..."

"Please do," Owen mumbled. "Before it's more than just a few of them."

[whimsyandbooks]

**I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review of this book**

“Convince yourself this was a lapse of judgement. But Gwen, I’ll be here when you’re ready to lapse again.” Graham Graves is one of those possessive book boyfriends who gives us everything we love. He’s the epitome of “she’s mine” and “touch her and you die” energy. 

Julie Johnson has an absolutely eloquent way with words. Her main character, Gwendolyn Goode, has a loquacious inner dialogue really stands out. Her voice firmly cements you as a reader in her world as a successful small business owner who grew up neglected and abused. Gwen is a character who armors herself in designer clothes and maintains a perpetual “every thing is fine” attitude. However, she remains as closed off as a knight who’s vowed celibacy to protect the kingdom, never letting anyone get close enough to hurt her. Graham Graves sees right through her facade, and is willing to fight tooth and nail to be the one to break down those walls. Luckily, they’re forced into each other's close proximity as he’s a Fixer (Private Investigator) working closely with the Police Department to solve a string of brutal animal sacrifices. It all gruesomely points to her being the next victim. It’s a thrilling mystery that had me completely entertained when the angsty-romantic stuff took a breather. And I can’t forget the killer playlist to listen to printed at the end of the book!

If you don’t appreciate blatant disregard of how actual crime scenes probably work, and miscommunication tropes, especially when it’s because the Main Character is so ambivalent to the love interest that she’ll not tell him a single thing that would help him protect her. You might want to avoid this read. Though, It does make for quite a delicious amount of angst and drama. 

Overall, I really enjoyed Julie Johnson’s book and I’ll definitely be looking forward to reading the next book in the series!

[ramp-it-up]

Little One

#RampitUp1Kinktober Day17

​​Pairing: Ari Levinson x Agent!Reader

Summary: Ari is your superior for this mission. How will either of you survive the training?

1Kinktober Kink: Anal

Word Count 3K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk, mutual pining, enemies?to lovers, sparring, virgin reader, power dynamics, undercover mission, faux marriage, mile high club, fingering, dirty talk, oral (m receiving) vaginal sex, Sir kink, size kink, anal intercourse. Not-so- private sex act. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

A/N: This is my first Ari fic and I have to confess: I haven’t seen the movie, I know nothing about the agencies involved or the politics really, I kind of made all of that part up. The reader is in a sort of Widow organization and, again, I made her allegiance up.

This for the 17th DAY of #rampitup1Kinktober! TYSM for following me! 🧡

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You’d dedicated yourself to the order at 17. You believed in what you were doing, so much so that you agreed to be sterilized a year later.

And you took a vow of celibacy.

After all, you thought, you probably wouldn’t live long and temporal things such as sex and children were hindrances and dead weight.

And love?

Well, love was for fools, not for fighters.

Until you encountered Ari.

There was something about him. His passion, his dedication, and his soul that set yours on fire.

The fact that he was jacked and his eyes seemed to reach out and want to drown you in their endless pools did not help your cause of being alone in this unexpectedly long life.

Living 10 years beyond the time you vowed to die was exhausting alone.

Perhaps it was fate that led you to Ari.

The first time Ari saw you, he saw a 27-year old idealistic child who had experienced the world, but not anything of real life.

He also saw a beautiful woman who had been neglected of carnal pleasure.

Being assigned to be your supervisor on this joint mission was convenient, because he could gauge your dedication. That was part of his mission for his superiors.

His mission for himself was quite different.

Sparring with Ari was exhilarating, partly because he made you dig deep and get better, but also, you could put your hands on him legitimately, and him on you. You began to look forward to the daily briefings and beatings at the hands of your superior.

In more ways than one.

Ari dodged a spin kick that was nearly perfect and grabbed your leg, throwing you on your back and allowing him to lunge for your head.

Your legs shot up and enclosed his, tripping him onto the mat and allowing you to straddle him, your elbow in the perfect position to break his nose.

Then you made the mistake of looking him in the eyes.

“You’re beautiful when you’re riding me, y’know that?”

You hesitated at that a second too long and that gave him the opportunity to grab your arm and twist it behind your back, and get behind you, his short-clad crotch planted firmly in your ass and bare chest against your back.

Your own chest heaved as you felt the hair on his torso around the back of the sports bra you were wearing and you tried to control your pebbled nipples.

No man, or woman for that matter, had ever affected you this way. You felt his cock get hard as he held you there, yet he didn’t release you.

“You’re going to risk your life for some pretty words and some dick? You need to focus.”

And with that, he threw you down on the mat, where you lay for a second to get yourself together.

You got up and stood before him at attention, staring off into space as he circled you.

You frustrated Ari to no end. He knew that you could have easily killed him just then if you had only concentrated. He also knew he should have killed you because you faltered.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Sir.”

What was wrong with you was there had been several weeks of sexual tension that you finally admitted to yourself. Even though you weren’t riding Ari, you’d break your vows for the chance, you realized. So he would have to kill you to get rid of you now.

You were in love with Ari Levinson.

Ari walked beside you and admired your profile. Sweat made your dark skin glow and your body… he looked you up and down. Your body was perfect. He’d had to jack off several times a day to keep himself under control.

He could command you to fuck him, the superiors had decided that if that must be for the good of the cause and mission, so be it. It was his job to break you in. But for the first time in his life, he didn’t agree.

He didn’t want you to be his because of a command. He wanted you to give yourself willingly. And he was a smart man, but he was just now realizing the signs.

Ari walked behind you and stood very close to you, his heat warming your up, yet making you shiver. He saw your reaction and smiled, but dropped it when he walked around to face you.

“Get packed. We’re on the move. Mission begins tomorrow night in New York. You have your gear in your room. We leave in two hours.”

And with that, he walked out of the room to go jack off again, but you didn’t know that. You were left with your head spinning at the thought that the mission was tomorrow, and would most likely be finished soon. That meant you would have to leave Ari.

You dropped your head for one minute, then raised it and sucked it up as you headed to your room.

You were surprised at the gear in your room. In the middle of the room was an Hermès trunk, filled with a selection of high end wardrobe, complete with matching Birkins and shoes. Laid out on the bed were several evening gowns, which looked as if they would fit you perfectly.

On your dresser was a case full of very convincing jewelry, gems that looked very real, although you knew they couldn’t be. Another case contained luxury skincare and makeup.

You felt very giddy for a girl who never played dress-up, but spy.

You were on your way to the airport, showered and dressed in posh traveling clothes, Ari by your side, similarly attired.

“What is the assignment? What is the duration?”

You needed some answers.

“We are married, darling. We are the Beckers.” Ari looked at you and texted out an American accent. You smiled back and did the same.

“Of course, Dear.”

You smiled at Ari and his heart skipped a beat, although he continued.

“We’re in New York for the season and to peruse artwork for our collection. Of course the artwork in question would do great things for the cause. Four weeks, although it could be a little longer.”

You never in your 10 years in the life had you wished for a mission to last longer. You just nodded and looked ahead at the road ahead.

You boarded a private jet, being greeted by the pilots as Mr. and Mrs. Becker. The mission had begun.

You heard Ari inquire about the plane as the attendant served wine.

“And the bed, is it a king sized?”

The attendant frowned as he looked from Ari to you. You had no clue that this plane had a bed. It was a 10 hour flight.

“N-no Sir. It is only a queen.”

Ari tsked. “It’s a shame. The Missus and I would like to take a proper ‘rest.’”

He winked at you and you reached over and took his hand, looking him straight in the eye.

“Sorry Sir, Madame. I hope that it’s comfortable.”

“We’ll make do,” you smiled at the attendant as Ari chuckled and caressed your hand with his thumb. Electric currents shot from your hand to your cunt.

After a leisurely, delicious dinner with excellent wine, you were led back to the bedroom portion of the jet.

You started to speak and Ari held his hand up to his lips and silenced you. He started some music, then nodded.

“This is quite the show.”

Ari nodded slowly.

“It is, isn’t it? I’ve recorded some sounds to play of… lovemaking… to make it belivable….”

Ari reached for his recorder and you stopped his hand.

“Why do we need a recording?”

Ari did not want to believe the real question you were asking.

“Because that is the cover, we are a randy married couple who cant keep….”

You threw yourself at Ari, landing on his lap as you sat him down on the bed. Your lips met his and you bit his lip to get him to open. You slipped your tongue inside as he groaned from want. You were a virgin, but you had been kissed.

Ari chuckled.

“What was that, Little One? What are you doing? This is a different sort of attack.”

He’d never called you that to your face, only when he was alone and in his dreams.

You started taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t resist.

“I say we go for method acting.”

Your eyes were on your hands as you undressed him. Ari took your chin and tilted your head up to meet your eyes.

“What are you asking, Little One? Use your words.”

HIs eyes were so spellbinding and he looked so sincere. Damn, he was a good actor.

“I want you to take me. Here, on the plane. May as well get it over with.”

Ari looked at you questioningly.

“That is why we were paired? It was decided that I be of use that way? Part of your job is this mission, but the other part is to… break me in?”

You’d heard tale of others and how it went for them. You were grateful it was Ari.

You were beautiful, deadly, and smart. Ari was in awe of you.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to do…”

Inside, Ari was thrilled that you’d considered it, and wanted it. It would make some things so much easier.

You stood up and took off your top. You revealed a translucent lace bra, which clearly showcased your nipples. Ari licked his lips as he watched you turn around and take off your pants, bending over to push your ass in his face. He wanted to grab it, but restrained himself.

You turned back around. He appreciated you in the lingerie. He’d taken his time and picked it out, guessing correctly that it would look amazing on you. He’d never dreamt that you would be so willing. He had no idea how willing you were.

“This is part of my training. Yes?”

Ari wanted to throw you on the bed and take you roughly, but you were right.

“Yes.”

He stood up and pulled off his pants, revealing a large, hard, and leaking monster of a cock, at least that’s how it appeared to you. Then he sat back down. He looked up at you.

“Keep in mind. You will get the complete education tonight. But your body has been conditioned to take almost anything. On your knees.”

You obeyed, confronted with the large organ in front of your face as he fisted it, hand sliding up and down the large shaft, making the shiny red head disappear and reappear. There was some liquid a the tip, and you looked at it and then up at him, curiously.

Ari could not help himself. To have you on your knees and so innocent for him, it was almost more than he could take.

Ari smiled. “That’s a normal part of it. Taste it. Give me your mouth. Open.”

You did as you were told, and Ari grasped the back of your head and brought you over to his cock.

“Stick out your tongue.”

You did so and Ari swiped his cock up and down its length. You looked up at him while he did it and his eyes almost shuttered closed. His lips parted and he licked them.

Damn, you were making him fall apart. Your little innocent hot mouth was driving him crazy.

“So good, Little One. Now, suck it.”

You smiled and leaned over, sucking the tip, not really knowing how to hold your mouth. As a result, saliva spilled out and you reached around him to clean it up, sliding your hand up his shaft to collect it. Suddenly you felt Ari shiver and moan. You looked up at him in surprise.

“Holy Shit!” Ari gasped. “Keep doing that. Holy fuck, yes!”

You smiled and moaned appreciatively in your throat as Ari watched. You sensed movement and your eyes went to his balls, which were drawing up against him. You tentatively reached out to feel them and Ari moaned again.

“Shit, girl. You’re a prodigy.”

You picked up on his cues and started stroking his shaft and kneading his balls as you sucked him, trying to go as deep as you could.

The fact that you were so into it made Ari start to loose control. He grabbed you under your arms and threw you on the bed as you giggled.

“You’re trying to sidetrack the lesson. Let’s move on.”

You couldn’t see him come apart so fast.

Ari leaned down and started kissing and sucking just below your ear.

“We’re going to move quickly, the advanced course, but I’m going to get you ready for me.”

Arr’s whisper was doing things to you; you could feel yourself clenching around air and you moaned as he took his time trying to find what made you react and how. When his mouth reached your breasts, you went wild, and he took note.

As you were squirming under his mouth, he trailed his hand down your side to your hip and over to your mound. He parted your lips with his pinky, and the rest of his large hand grabbed rubbed both holes.

You keened loudly, and Ari chuckled in your ear.

“Now that’s what they need to hear.”

He didn't say that he needed it, too. He slowly slipped one finger in your pussy while his pinky ghosted your puckered hole.

“Fuck, Ari….”

He looked down on you, your beauty in this moment unmatched.

“D’you like that Little One?” He smiled as you nodded. “You are little, pussy so tight.”

He pushed another finger in your cunt and his pinky into your ass. Your back arched as you lubricated his hand and your mouth opened in a breathless moan as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuck, so, so good, Ari.”

“Hmm.” Ari grunted, done in by you. “You think you’re ready?”

You opened your eyes, blazing. “I’m always ready.”

If Ari wasn’t in love before, he was now. His unoccupied hand smoothed your hair back and pulled, causing your smiled to widen.

“My brave Little One. I always wondered if you’d be a hellcat in bed. Wasn’t expecting that the first time.”

“Have you ever met me?”

You were laughing at him while he shifted, tip of his penis probing at you. Your laugh turned into a scream as he slid into you with a little resistance. He kept steady and he was home in your tight wetness in no time.

His face was in the mattress to gather himself as you panted and whined. He looked up at you when he thought his look was more stoic.

“Are you ok?”

You looked at him and nodded, “I’m good. I think I will be better if you start moving. Sir.”

Ari literally growled as he complied with your reverse order.

“You are going to be the death of me. One way or another.”

He shook his head and buried it in your shoulder as he started pumping, speeding up with intensity as your wetness multiplied. When you opened your legs and wrapped them around his back, was when he let loose reared up and started circling your clit with his thumb.

Your eyes rolled back into your head and you started chanting, “Yes,yes,yes,yes,yes…” And Ari started swiveling his hips, searching for that spot that would make you…

“GOOOD GODDDD!”

Ah, there it was, you came around him, a shuddering, whimpering, mess, loud enough to have the desired effect upon the crew.

Ari grunted to hold himself back, but he wasn’t finished.

He pulled out of you as you lay curled in a ball, reeling from the sensations. He went to his bag and retrieved something.

“Up up up up.”

Ari pulled you up on hands and knees and rubbed your magnificent ass.

“Here’s the honors portion.”

And you felt something cold on between your cheeks.

“Oh!”

You jumped and shivered at the lube.

Ari took pity on you and guided you to lay down in front of him.

“This part can be very pleasurable, if you relax.”

Ari’s whisper in your ear was making you hot again. Your nipples perked up and Ari snaked his arm between you and the bed as his other opened your leg to play with your clit.

You started moaning and writhing within moments, and grinding your ass against his cock. Ari had to bite back yet another moan.

“Now Little One, grab my cock and push it into your ass for me. Like a good girl.”

The content of that sentence made you afraid, but the feelings your were feeling made you obey. You swiped his cock against your ass, actually finding the sensation very pleasurable.

And since you were in control, you pushed the tip almost fully inside you, wanting more as Ari kept pleasuring your clit and nipple. You wanted this.

So you pushed onto him, Ari huffing in your ear from holding back, until he popped inside the tight ring of muscle. You stopped, He was so fucking huge. But he felt so...

“Feels so….” Ari’s heart was beating out of his ears as he waited for your next words. “...so fucking Gooooood, Ari.”

“Fuck, Little One.”

He grunted in your ear and started pumping, you two still on your side, until you were begging him for more. Then, he turned so that he was behind you and could give better strokes.

“Fuck me Ari, fuck me, fuck meeeee.”

You were grunting and moaning and you actually started throwing it back on him.

“I think you might like this better than traditional fucking, Little One. I knew you were a prodigy.”

“Fuck. Yes. Sir.”

And Ari lost it, pounding into your ass until he came, his seed spilling out of you as you came clenching and quivering around him, so tight.

A few minutes later, you opened your eyes to Ari’s gentle demands that you get up and go to the loo, and shower. He handed you a bottle of water on your way into the airplane bathroom.

“Got to keep you healthy. You’re important to… the mission.”

You looked up at him.

“Right, Sir. Did I… did I do well, Sir?”

“You certainly did. A+ all around.”

Ari wanted to kiss you, but this was just business, right?’

You headed into the loo and looked back at him.

“Thank you, Ari.”

“My pleasure, Little One.”

You smiled at him and closed the door.

Ari flopped down on the bed and tried to figure out how he was going to survive this one.

I got so carried away. 😅 Let me know if you felt it too!

Tags:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @chattykathysquietsister @nikole-witha-k @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @donutloverxo @marvelfansworld  @london-grunge @ximaginexx @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @iconicshit @maroonsunrise83 @partypoison00 @curlyhairclub @denisemarieangelina @harrysthiccthighss @simpinforu @sunshinexsin @celestialbeingz @the-1900 @geminixevans @fanfictionwr1tin @breezykpop @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @peaceinourtime82 @hisgirlfriday439 @nik2write @deepintothenature @jassiejj2118 @patzammit @mansaaay

[deepestfancloud]

The Priest Part 1

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader. Reading from his POV.

Author’s note/ Summery: There are many rules a priest can’t break. A priest cannot marry. A priest cannot abandon his flock. A priest cannot harm the sacred trust his parish has put in him. Rules that seem obvious. Rules that I remember as I knot my cincture. Rules that I vow to live by as I pull on my chasuble and adjust my stole. I’ve always been good at following rules. Until Y/N came. Several months ago, I broke my vow of celibacy on the altar of my own church, and God help me, I would do it again. I am a priest and this is my confession.

Warning: Dirty talk in the church. Y/N being a filthy girl and making Father Starkey hard while confessing her sins.

Someone cleared their throat. A woman.

“I, uh. I’ve never done this before.” Her voice was low and beguiling, the aural rendering of moonlight.

“Ah.” I smiled. “A newbie.”

That earned me a small laugh. “Yes, I guess I am. I’ve only ever seen this in the movies. Is this where I say, ‘Forgive me Father, for I have sinned?’”

“Close. First, we make the sign of the cross. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…” I could hear her echoing the words with me. “Now you tell me how long it’s been since your last confession, which was—”

“Never,” she finished for me. 

She sounded young, but not too young. My age, if not a little younger. And her voice carried the accent-less rush of the city, not the leisurely twang I sometimes heard out here. “I, um. I saw the church while I was at the winery across the street. And I wanted to—well, I have some things that are bothering me. I’ve never been particularly religious, but I thought maybe…” She trailed off for a minute and then abruptly inhaled. “This was stupid. I should go.” I heard her stand.

“Stop,” I said and then was shocked at myself. I never gave orders like that. Well, not anymore.

Focus.

She sat, and I could hear her fidgeting with her purse.

“You aren’t stupid,” I said, my voice gentler. “This isn’t a contract. This isn’t you promising to come to Mass every week for the rest of your life. This is a moment that you can be heard. By me…by God…maybe even by yourself. You came in here because you were looking for that moment, and I can give it to you. So please. Stay.”

She took a breath. I waited.

“I never meant to end up at the club,” she finally said, her voice going low. “I thought maybe I’d find a small nonprofit to work at or maybe I’d do something prosaic, like waiting tables. But I heard from a bartender that there was a club hidden somewhere in this city—private, exclusive, discreet. And they were looking for girls. Girls who looked expensive.”

“Girls like you?”

Y/N wasn’t offended. She laughed that throaty laugh, the laugh that kindled a low heat in my belly every time I heard it. “Yes, girls like me. WASP-y girls. The kind that rich people like. And you know what? It was perfect. I got to dance—I hadn’t danced anywhere other than a gala for so long. It was, all told, a fairly classy place. A mandatory $500 coat check. $750 for a table, $1000 for a private dance. No patron-initiated touching. A two-drink maximum. It catered to a very specific clientele, and so I found myself stripping for the same men who would have employed me, married me, donated to my pet charities, in another life. I loved it.”

“You loved it?”

Filthy girl.

The thought came out of nowhere, unbidden but refusing to leave, whispering itself over and over again in my mind. Dirty, filthy girl.

She turned those hazel eyes back to me. “Is that wrong? Is that a sin? No, don’t answer, I don’t really want to know.”

“Why did you like it?” I was asking merely out of a counselor’s curiosity, of course. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Why would I mind? “She adjusted herself, the shorts exposing more of those firm legs. Dancer’s legs. “I liked how it felt. Having men watch me with hooded eyes, wanting me and only me—not my education or my pedigree or my family’s connections. But even more than that, on this raw, primal level, I loved the way the men responded to my body. I loved that I made them hard.”

I loved that I made them hard.

I nearly choked, my mind fracturing into twin minds—one determined to see this meeting through with grace and compassion and the other determined to let her know how hard she made me.

She was oblivious to my internal struggle. “I loved that they would become almost wild with the need to touch me, so wild that they would offer me astounding sums of money to come home with them, to leave the club and become their mistress. But I never accepted. Even though many of them were handsome, even though I wasn’t in a place where I could pretend money was no object. But something about it was antithetical to my very nature, and I couldn’t imagine accepting any of those offers. Isn’t that a ridiculous notion? A stripper insisting on preserving her virtue?”

She didn’t seem to expect an answer and kept going. “The sad thing was that I was actually starved for sex while I was turning down all these offers. I’m sure you know the feeling, Father, like the slightest breeze is enough to send you over the edge, like your skin itself is combustible.”

God, did I know that feeling. I was feeling it right now. I offered her a weak smile, which she returned.

“I was so combustible, Father Starkey. I would get wet watching the men stroking themselves through their custom-tailored trousers. In the private rooms, I’d pull my thong to the side and let them watch as I brought myself off. They liked that, they liked it when I teased myself and rubbed myself and rode my hand until I shuddered and sighed.”

I realized my hands were gripping the arms of the chair very hard now, and I tried to flush out all the images her words were conjuring, but I couldn’t and she continued on, oblivious to my sudden discomfort, innocently secure in the mistaken notion that I was simply an input for information, an output for advice, and not a twenty-eight-year-old man.

“But it wasn’t the same, getting myself off,” she said. “I wanted to be fucked, fucked and used. I wanted to be filled with someone’s dick, I wanted to have fingers in my mouth and in my cunt. In my ass.” She took a breath.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t breathe.

“What’s that sin called? I know it has to be one. Is it just lust…or is it something worse? What kind of prayer should I pray for that one? And what if I don’t feel bad about what I’ve done, the things I wanted to do? Even now, even after what happened last month, I still want it. I still feel lonely, I still want to be fucked. Which is confusing as hell because I have no idea about anything else I want out of my life.”

Despite everything, I still wanted to respond to her last sentence, the ultimate motivation for her being here in this office. I wanted to take her hand and give her soft intimations of wisdom, but fuck, nothing about me was soft right now.

Her words.

Her fucking words.

It had been bad enough listening to her talk about working at that club, but then when she’d described touching herself, coaxing her pussy into orgasm, and I had imagined myself as one of those hungry businessman watching it, offering everything in my wallet just to see that glistening cunt pulse with pleasure. I bet I could see it now if I wanted. I could stand her against the wall and yank down those shorts, kick her legs open so that she would be exposed to me…

There was no earthly way I could last another minute in this meeting.

God must have heard my unspoken prayer because her phone chimed then, a businesslike little tone, and she fished it out of her bag. “I’m so sorry,” she mouthed as she answered the call.

I indicated that it was okay, trying to solve the bigger problem of how to stand up without revealing what her words had done to me.

She ended the call quickly. “I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “Some work stuff has come up and—”

I held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I have a parish meeting coming up soon anyway.” That was a lie. The only meeting that was about to happen was between my hand and my dick. But probably not good form to tell a hopeful convert that. (I made a mental note to ask forgiveness for that lie as well as what I was about to do.)

“I, ah, I hope to see you soon though.”

She gave me a gorgeous smile as she stood and grabbed her bag. “Me too. Bye, Father.”

I couldn’t even wait until I was sure she was out of the church. As soon as Y/N left, I got up and locked the door, taking the time only to move over to my desk so I could brace one hand on the surface as I fumbled with my belt.

There wasn’t time to feel guilty or question my motives or for anything remotely resembling thought. I didn’t even pull my slacks down any farther than it took to free my dick, and then I was jacking myself hard and fast, nothing in my mind but release.

I tried to think of someone else—anyone else—other than the woman who had come to me seeking God’s forgiveness and reassurance. But my mind kept wandering back to her, imagining her at the club, but moving for me and only for me, pulling her thong aside to show me the thing I most wanted.

Christ help me.

I felt it building, taut electricity in my pelvis, and I was thrusting into my hand now, wishing I was fucking Y/N —her mouth or her cunt or her ass, I didn’t care—and then I shot all over my desk, pulsing and spurting and imagining that each and every drop of myself was being spilled onto her skin.

My hand stilled and my breathing slowed and reality came crashing back down. Here I was, dick in hand, cum all over my liturgical desk calendar, and a picture of St. Augustine looking at me reproachfully from the wall.

Shit.

Shit.

Numb, I zipped up my jeans and tore off the top sheet of the calendar and threw it away, the crinkling of the thick paper loud and almost accusatory, and fuck, what the hell had I done?

I sat in the chair and stared at St. Augustine.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what it’s like,” I mumbled. I braced my elbows on the desk and ground the heels of my palms into my eyes.

Y/N was not going to go away. She lived here. She was going to come back, and I had no doubt that we’d only scratched the surface of her “carnal” confessions. And I would have to listen to it without getting aroused like a teenage boy. More than listen, I would have to respond with grace and empathy and compassion when all I would be able to think about was  that mouth.

Stars were now dancing behind my eyelids but I didn’t move my hands. I didn’t want to see this office right now or St. Augustine. I didn’t want to see the newly ragged edges of my calendar or my newly filled wastebasket.

I wanted to pray in complete darkness. I wanted nothing in between my thoughts and God, in between this woman and my vocation. I wanted everything but my sin and these starbursts in my eyes stripped away.

I’m sorry, I prayed. I’m so sorry.

I was sorry that I’d betrayed the trust of one of God’s flock. I was sorry that I’d betrayed the holiness of this place and this vocation by lusting after someone seeking solace and guidance. I was sorry that I hadn’t even controlled my desire long enough to step into a cold shower or go for a run or any of the other tricks I’d learned over the past three years to stifle my urges.

Mostly…

Mostly, I’m sorry that I’m not sorry.

Dammit, I wasn’t sorry at all.

[separatist-apologist]

Who asked for part 2 of this? No one but @spell-cleavers said the funniest thing about Lucien getting Helion back by convincing his mother Helion wanted to participate in no nut November and here we are.

-

Grow up, Lucien told himself, stalking the halls of the Day Court palace. Helion’s prank had worked out for him, in the end. Elain was passed out in his bed, her nose a little burned from the sun and her body utterly wrung out. He’d spent hours with her, first at the beach and then in his bedroom. If anything, he thought he was better off throwing himself at Helion’s feet and thanking him. Lucien was nothing if not petty. He’d read too many words about his parents and their sex life and for that, he would have his revenge.

“Mother,” he said with a smile, joining her on the darkened patio. “How are you doing?”

She smiled, looking up from her book. Lucien scowled at the title—The High Lord Who Loved Me, another by Sellyn Drake. He didn’t want to know the plot of that book, didn’t want to know the horror liking lurking within those pages. Helion was a menace, despite his clandestine status as a best-selling author.

“I saw Elain earlier. She looked so happy,” his mother told him with a smile, drawing Lucien out of his irritation. She ought to have been happy, Lucien thought privately. He’d certainly spent enough time eating her out on that beach.

“I think she is,” he agreed with a curl of pleasure. “How are you, though?”

Her smile, radiant and unguarded, was enough to almost make him feel guilty. “Happy,” she admitted, settling against her reclining chair. “The sun, the weather…your father…it’s enough.”

Lucien nodded. “About that. Can I just start by saying how much you deserve to be happy, mother? Truly.”

She beamed. Lucien took a breath. “This is awkward. I didn’t want to be in the middle of this but Helion begged…don’t tell him I said anything, okay? I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he could cajole me into bending to his will.”

She straightened, her face tightening with worry. “What is it?”

“Day Court has a…peculiar religious practice in the Autumn months where males ah…attempt to forego any…release—”

Her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh.”

Lucien nodded. “Like I said, this is really awkward for me.”

She held up a hand. “Say no more, Lucien. Thank you for being such a good son.”

He almost felt guilty. Lucien kissed her cheek and left her on the patio, making a beeline straight for Elain, grinning the whole way there.

How long would it take Helion to figure out what had happened?

**

Helion sauntered the halls of his palace, feeling every inch a High Lord for the first time in his life. He’d heard Lucien and Elain earlier that day causing a ruckus on the beach and assumed his little trick with the book had worked. He wondered if Lucien had pieced it together—he knew, from the look on Lucien’s face, the male had likely only skimmed the book at best. Helion though he was pretty upfront, what with the cover, the title…but for all Lucien’s smarts, he could be dumb when it came to Elain.

Helion knew the feeling well. He felt the same about Amera, his female, his love…his everything. Tucked up in his bed, waiting for him just as he’d always dreamed. Autumn had come and Helion intended to take her out to the countryside where it would be just the two of them hidden among the orchards.

He opened the door, half hard, mind spinning with fantasies. Amera, though, was no where to be found and neither were her things. Helion frowned, rounding on a nearby servant.

“Where is my wife?” he asked, wondering if he’d done something that she was punishing him for.

The female bit her bottom lip nervously. “Your lady believes you have taken on a vow of celibacy, High Lord.”

Helion choked on the air he breathed. “Celibacy?” he gasped, mind whirling. Why the fuck would she think that?

“She is in one of the guest rooms,” the servant added helpfully. Helion left them standing there, striding quickly through the palace. He replayed every conversation they’d had over the course of the week—there had been very little talking, in his defense—trying to figure out where she’d gotten such a silly idea.

Amera was laying in a bed draped in white, her body hidden beneath a short, strappy blue night dress. Long red curls spilled around her perfect face, stopping him for a moment.

“Amera,” he managed, his brain short circuiting at the sight of her. “Come back.”

She scrambled, pulling the blanket up to her neck. “Helion. I’m so sorry, if I’d known I would have put on a more modest dressing gown.”

Modest? He was wheezing. “Darling, you don’t need to worry about modesty with me.” She nodded, her russet eyes blazing with sympathy. “I don’t want to make this any harder on you than it already is. Three months will zip by if we stay separated.”

Helion paused. “Three months?” He could scarcely go three hours without touching her and she wanted to go three months?

“Amera…come back to bed with me. I don’t know where you got the idea—”

“I know, Helion,” she told him, holding up a hand. “Our courts are very different and I didn’t realize how important it was for males to forego release in Autumn. You don’t have to compromise your religious beliefs for me. I want to help.”

“Religious…beliefs…” Helion repeated, certain he was missing something. “Sweetheart, what did you do today?”

Perhaps she’d hit her head while swimming? Nothing else made sense to him. He walked to her, kneeling at the edge of the bed and taking her hands. “I spent it in the palace. I meant to go to the beach but Elain and Lucien were there, of course—”

“Lucien,” he hissed, the pieces clicking in his mind. “You spoke with Lucien today?” She bit her bottom lip nervously. “He told me you two spoke…he was quite uncomfortable but I am so happy the two of you are bonding. Helion, truly, I do not mind. You could have just told me. You didn’t need to send Lucien in your stead.”

Helion bit his tongue so hard he could taste blood in his mouth. So Lucien had realized the book was about his parents. How far had he gotten, then? When had he put the pieces together? Helion couldn’t stand to destroy Amera’s belief that he and Lucien were finally getting along and suspected Lucien, the two faced fox, had been well aware of that when he crafted his little lie.

“It’s not the whole season, my love,” Helion finally told her, kissing her hand as he instructed his cock to get real comfortable not being touched. “Just the month.”

She seemed relieved to know that. “A month will fly by,”she promised.

“It will,” he agreed. “But not if you sleep elsewhere. I can control myself now that I know we are on the same page. Come back with me, hm?”

“Give me the night? I just got settled in.”

Grumbling to himself, Helion kissed the top of her head. He didn’t dare kiss any other part, not when he was already so wound up. “I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning.”

He left here there, door closed behind him as he turned slowly, a predator looking for prey. Lucien was lurking somewhere in the palace…though it was Elain he stumbled into first.

“Helion!” she said sweetly, a robe tucked around her body. She reeked of sex, her cheeks flushed sweetly.

“Elain,” he replied with a smile. “Just the female I was hoping to see. Would you care to join me for lunch tomorrow? I have something that might interest you.”

Elain brightened. “Yes! I would love that.”

Helion nodded. He’d show Lucien how the game was played.

“Excellent.”

[dyns33]

Eden locks (3/?)

It's the birthday of @avesatanormalpeoplescareme  ! Happy Birthday ! Here is a "gift", I hope you like it =) ! As promised, we see a little more the band, there is drama and some revelations. Ta ta taaa !

Michael had met Kai Anderson-March first, while he was at the bottom of the hole. The man had somehow saved him and without him he probably would not be here today. They had not, however, become the best friends in the world : Kai was not looking for his soulmate at all, and no one knew where his mark was or what it looked like. He was not opposed to finding the one, and living with them, but it was not a priority and he took full advantage of his "celibacy" by sleeping with everything that moved, without ever tie to nobody. Since he was famous, it was even worse. Kai sometimes woke up with several people in bed, unable to remember their names or how they met, and threw them out without any more politeness. Clearly, if he had not helped him, Michael would never have hung out with the guy, and he would have even made him pay for his behavior for a long time.

           If he had stayed, and had supported Kai, it was mostly for his twin, James. He understood perfectly well his desire to love only the chosen one, since he had found them. They had met in high school ! James was really a lucky man. But their relationship was... peculiar. He and Elizabeth were arguing all the time. Michael had feared for a time that they would be part of the 4.6, but no, James loved the dramas and the insults of his darling made him boiling like a volcano. Michael did not understand them at all, it could not be love. Where was the tenderness ? Where was the complicity ? He had almost doubted, wondering if they were not mistaken, if their mark were alike without being identical. But as she always came back, it seemed to suit them and everything was fine in the best of all worlds.

           His favorite was still Dandy. They were not really close, but the young man was extremely romantic, though a little too enthusiastic. From the first interview of the band, he showed everyone the horse he had on his shoulder, and the fans screamed with joy at seeing him shirtless. Michael had vowed never to do that, it was private, and he looked at Dandy awkwardly. But it paid off and he was jealous when, after a concert, a girl named Bette Tattler timidly approached Dandy, and showed him her shoulder. Dandy had raised her to turn her in the air, shouting for joy. It was unfair. Why Dandy ? Why not him ? The next day, Michael revealed the location of his mark. But only the location. It had to be enough for his beloved to have a doubt and come and see him to check. It was two years ago, and he was still waiting.

                                                              🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

             ""We all started at the bottom, and we can be proud of our success, which is only due to our hard work, our talent and our perseverance", no, but what a load of crap ! Hypocrites !"(Y / N) was still very upset after her altercation with Langdon. Her new goal in life: to destroy him. But before, she had to convince Coco to resign ! That bastard might have banished her from the studio, but he had contacted Coco the same evening, to tell her that she had worked well, that he was happy to have chosen her and that he was eager to see her again. Of course, Coco had cried saying that was the second best day of her life, the first being the day she would meet her future husband, and the third when she would give birth to her first child. (Y / N) had therefore done some research to prove to her that Langdon and his band were just idiots who had to be avoided at all costs. She did not need a lot of time. "His father is rich ! And he's a real monster ! In the world of finance, they call him Satan ! He is the one who paid everything for his dear son : the label, the studio, the instruments, the staff and even the tour bus. The poor darlings, it must have been so hard for them." But Coco did not want to see the truth. "What surprises me," she says, "is that no one has heard of Michael before he turned 18. He suddenly appeared from nowhere !" (Y / N) shrugged. "I suppose that he was in a private school for rich boys, probably in Europe. He came home, he made his teenage crisis by telling his daddy that he wanted to set up a rock band, and that's it ! So, okay, the father was not crazy, he did not want to lose money and he checked that they knew how to sing and play, but for the rest, they have no merit at all !" Coco read the article carefully. She pouted. "It does not match," she muttered, "It's weird, this article gives the precise day and year when Langdon senior met his soulmate." "So what ?" asked (Y / N), irritated by the change of subject. "So, Michael was already seven years old. It's not possible. "(Y / N) snatched the magazine from her hands." Either it's not his mother, or they decided to reveal their love to the world very late, and that they had a son together again later. We do not care. Concentrate."

But Coco had other plans. She loved that job, she loved that group, she loved Michael. Platonically speaking, of course. She would do everything to make (Y / N) change her mind. It was not going to be easy, but she had an idea.

                                                                🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

           The international tour was coming soon. It would last three months, first in Europe, then in Asia, in Australia, in Africa and finally in South America. On one side, Michael saw in all these trips an opportunity to find his soulmate, if they were in another country and they did not have enough money to come to America. But, at the same time, he hoped very much that this was not the case and that the One did not live abroad. That would be problematic. First of all because of the language : he wanted to be able to declare his flame with great speeches and songs, and for that they had to speak the same language. He could always learn, but it would not be the same... Then there will be the question of moving. He did not want his beloved to leave their family and friends, so he should do it. But that would be difficult with the band. He should go back and forth for rehearsals and recordings. And with the tours, he could not be often with his half. Maybe he should stop. The guys would be furious, his father too. He should find a new job. No, really, he was praying for his soulmate to be American.

           "Oh, I would love to come with you ! I could help Miss Taylor with the organization, I would take care of selling the goodies, I would be discreet ! Please, please, pretty please !" Coco, who had been accepted into the group after her touching speech about soulmates, had begged them on her knees for several days to come with them. Kai was against it, and therefore James was for. Dandy did not care, he just wanted to get back as soon as possible to join Bette. Liz was not against a little help, especially if Coco continued to call her "Miss  Taylor". "It's (Y / N) who forced me, explained Coco. She said you deserved to be treated like a lady." Liz turned to Michael with a big smile. "I love this little girl. Why did you have to put her out again ?" Just hearing the name of this idiot irritated Michael. He did not want to think about her and her horrible speeches. He knelt down, took Coco's hands, who looked at him with astonishment and hope, and said, "If you promise not to talk about her anymore, to no longer pronounce her name, and to make sure that I do not never see her again, so you can come." He expected her to say "yes" right away, without hesitation. But Coco was a devoted friend before being a fan. He did not know if he should appreciate her more or less because of it. She removed her hands. "It's very nice Michael, but I can not. (Y / N) is complicated, she does not think badly when she talks about these wacky theories. She just wants people to be happy and she does not think that it's the right method. I've been trying to change her mind for years, but she's stubborn." She was silent for a moment, before putting her hand on his shoulder. "Michael Langdon, do you agree to help me show the right path to this poor misguided girl, who deserves to be loved ?" He did not know why, but he could not say no.

                                                              🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

             (Y/N) knew she could prove to Coco that she was right. But except for the father's money, the band seemed faultless. Nobody ever said anything bad about them, they were polite, generous (they gave to many associations) and always here for their fans. Even if it was not them who answered the mail. The more she listened to their interviews, the more she hated them. Kai was an odious character, James was a moron and Dandy was silly. But Michael was the worst, because he always looked perfect. She poured himself a drink while he spoke again and again of his beloved soulmate who mattered more than anything and that the journalist, a jerk, made small "aww" in front of such an overflow of love. Yuck. "You see Dinah, I think it's time for me to tell you where my mark is, so that my love will be easier to find. It's behind my right ear." (Y / N) froze. No. Nah. It did not mean anything. "And the shape ?" Dinah asked. "It's a secret," Michael said winking. But here is a clue. The name of our band is more or less related to what it represents." Eden locks. (Y / N) ran her hand over the three 6 behind her right ear. She felt that she was making a strange face, a tense smile and round eyes, as she realized the situation. She drank her glass in one go. "No," she said, as if to convince herself, "No. I'm dreaming, I'm going to wake up." Like a zombie, she went to bed repeating this sentence again and again. It was inevitably a nightmare. Inevitably.

Tag : @naughtygranger @avesatanormalpeoplescareme  @heda-mikaelson  @peachyybbyyy   @allyadarth

[scapegrace74-blog]

Seventeen: Marita

A/N  You ever make a list?  A way to compile all the missed opportunities, the transgressions, the warning signs telling you that you’re on the wrong path?  Of course you have.  Part 15.5 in the series.  Part 1 and links to other parts are here. Rated NC-17.  Trigger warning for non-con sex.

15.

He assigned his feelings for Scully a new name, since he apparently wasn’t supposed to be in love with her.   Besotted impassivity.  It covered both his desires and the demands he placed upon himself.  

As far as he could tell, this arrangement suited Scully.  They were both married to their work, and so had exchanged vows in the holy church of transitivity.  They shared a union of fiery passions for truth and justice, and the parallel lonely roads of celibacy.

If he sniffed the wind and scented a crucial element in the mystery that they each uncovered piece by piece from their opposite poles, however, it was hard to channel the predatory urge into the work alone.  His blood ran feral in his veins and she was the only quarry he cared to pursue.  When he was in this mood, he avoided grasping Scully’s shapely hips, now unveiled from beneath her formerly boxy suits, by assigning himself tasks that took him into the field without her.

So it was that he found himself in an ornate Upper East Side apartment building, on the trail of a bio-toxin of possibly extra-terrestrial origin, with Alex Krycek handcuffed to the armrest of his rental car outside.   Even without the influence of sleep deprivation, adrenaline and the scent-trail of conspiracy, New York City always made him susceptible to his appetites, and he was relieved Scully was hundreds of miles away.

Marita greeted him with her usual soignee aplomb.  Despite her Latin-sounding name, she struck him as Nordic, with lichen eyes and hair like sunglow.   Clearly her carefully enunciated words were meant to disguise her background, as well as her allegiances.

But she’d helped him before, and despite his solitary reputation, it grew lonely doubting the whole world with no-one in his corner but Scully.   That was why, when Marita suggested a nightcap while they waited for his special entry visa to Russia to be faxed to her private number, he wearily lowered his defences and accepted.

The days of after-work cocktails and weekly benders were years behind him, but two fingers of scotch shouldn’t make the room pulse and whirl in kaleidoscopic comet tails.  He wanted to tell his legs to flee, but they were leaden weights held fast against the tactile clutch of Marita’s couch.  She was speaking to him, lifting the heavy stone of his head on the crook of a crone’s claw.  Words floated down to him, devoid of context or structure.

“... arrangements... time... insurance, so if you...hardship...job...”

The phone rang, echoing down an endless tunnel.  Murmuring, his name, the harsh fricatives of some Slavic language.

A bedroom.  Cool balm of cotton against the overheated expanse of his skin.  Ice cube tympani in a glass.  Glaciers in Marita’s eyes as she stripped at the foot of the bed.  Ebony corset and garters against arctic flesh.   Cold, so cold, and he was on fire.  Hot and molten inside, as he knew she would be.  Sun blind, solar flare, hot explosion of light burning his retinas.   Gasping in fear, but pumping pumping pumping his hips upward, lifting her up into the nebulous sky.  Calling out for help because even in an upside down dreamscape, he knew this was a betrayal. ScullyScullyScully...

He awoke, fully dressed, back on the couch.  His head felt muzzy and there was a heavy blanket of lethargy lying over his senses, a feeling he associated with orgasm.  The mantle clock read 3am, and in the next room a fax machine groaned to life.

Marita appeared, dressed in the same silken dressing gown, with her shower-damp hair combed away from her cipher’s face.  She extended a manila folder in his direction.

“They’ve finally arrived.  At least you got some rest, while you waited.”

He blinked and dragged himself upright, lost between reality and a mirage.

“Are you sure you’re alright to drive?  I could make up the bed in my spare room and...”

“No.  Thank you, but I need to be going.”

“Everything you asked for is here.  Once you’re on the ground in Krasnoyarsk, you’re on your own, however.  Be careful, Agent Mulder.  Others have already died protecting the secrets you want to reveal.”

“Then I’ll be in familiar territory.  Thank you again.”  And with that, he left.

Something was wrong with Scully.  Their usual easy but combative rapport had turned stilted and cruel, and he could not fathom why.  To make matters worse, he was assailed at the oddest moments by crippling guilt and dread.  He didn’t know what he’d done, but he knew his track record with the cosmic card dealer, and if he was guilty of something, retribution would be swift and lethal.

He thought the other shoe had dropped when Scully returned from Philadelphia with a tattoo and passionate bruises left by another man under her skin.   The betrayal of their silent pact coursed like alcohol through his body, a confusing, erotic provocation, but over it all lay the premonition that he had somehow earned her unfaithfulness.

“Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she dismissed, as he tried to grope in the dark to make sense of her behaviour.

“Yes, but it’s...”  He wanted to say “it’s my trust you’ve broken, my heart that is leaking bloody confusion all over these tile floors” but he held back, again feeling as though there was an element to the puzzle he was missing.  To regain some kind of equilibrium, he was going to have to break his end of their pact of silence.

“Scully, I know that you’re your own person.  That you don’t need my approval to guide your actions.  I may be a self-absorbed asshole, but those are things I know.”

She looked up at him, quietly receptive to whatever he was trying to say, and he closed his eyes and searched for the courage to say the necessary words.

“But I thought... I assumed, rather, that we’d both made the same choice.  To devote ourselves to the work.  For now.  Until... well... I thought you knew.  I thought that was enough for you.”

When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him with more open animosity than ever before, and he physically recoiled as though struck.  Her voice was a diamond-edged blade as she spoke.

“I grew to admire many things about you, Mulder, as we came to know each other.  But the one quality that stood out above the rest was your complete lack of hypocrisy.  Don’t ruin everything by accusing me of behaviour you obviously have no problems condoning in yourself.”  

With that, she rose and left their office battleground, heels tapping across the space he could very well have filled with a second desk.  But it wasn’t about the desk.  It never was.  He was starting to believe it was about some transgression only Scully knew he had made.

If he thought karma was finished with him, however, he was sadly mistaken.  Less than a week later, he was standing in the oncology ward of Holy Cross Memorial Hospital, listening in disbelief as Scully announced that their time together would be measured in mere days or months, not the forever he’d counted on.

Go to Seventeen: SpookyGal42.

[houndofbel]

Re: Pan-Celtism and Celtic Descendants

Hi @aira-of-the-circle

I’m making my response in it’s own separate post as tumblr isn’t that great of a place for academic discussion, as I that’s something I prefer using the Gaulpol Discord for.

For those looking to follow the earlier part of this discussion, you can find it here:

https://aira-of-the-circle.tumblr.com/post/180820801915/once-again

Much of this confusion surrounds, the question of what exactly is a Celt? The word actually comes from ‘Keltoi’ what the Gauls called themselves, which means ‘descendants of The Hidden One’.

I understand your opinion of Celtic is that of an umbrella term for the religions/memories of religions of Celtic speaking nations and asserts that is in fact a label that exists beyond simple linguistics. I disagree, as the the Continental and Insular Celts (living in the times before, during and after the Roman occupations) actually had a super diverse ethnicity and religion, and the only thing that actually connected them was their language.

From Jean-Louis Brunaux’s Les Druides. Des philosophes chez les Barbares (French Edition):

“We wondered a lot about the reality of this little divine family. Was it conceived in this form among all Gallic peoples? The ethnic diversity of the peoples, the no less great of their political regimes and their strong particularisms make it doubtful. The Gallo-Roman epigraphic and statuary testimonies, certainly late, confirm in any case a religious geography of Gaul very contrasted if the figure of Mercury is very present at the beginning of our era in many regions of Gaul, it is often competed by Mars, Apollo, less often by Jupiter and in many cases by local or indigenous deities who do not find exact correspondent in the Roman pantheon.”

“As has been suggested above, Caesar himself could not forge this image of the Gallic gods by producing a synthesis based on the various information he could have obtained from the very mouths of Gauls encountered during his expeditions. He simply drew it from the work of Poseidonios.”

This dude is legit, as he is a researcher for CNRS and has done a bunch of excavations of Gaulish sites as part of his career.

If we think of Celtic in how archaeologists do, as an ancient people sharing a common material culture and distinctive (and cool) art style, Celtic would include the people of Central Europe (not just Gaul!) and British Isles in the late Halstatt period and all the way down to the Roman conquest, makes the argument that the Celts are dead entirely defunct because there are surviving languages, as well as material cultures.

Most Celtic scholars assign Celtic a linguistic significance for a reason. (Bettina Arnold goes over this. Her background: https://uwm.edu/anthropology/people/arnold-bettina/ as does Kim McCone, his background: https://www.amazon.com/Kim-McCone/e/B001K8513M) It’s done to eliminate the discrepancies I previously mentioned (through there are still a few issues). This means the people living in the six modern Celtic countries (Ireland, Scotland Wales, Brittany, Cornwall, and Isle of Man) or who currently speak / had ancestors who recently spoke a Celtic language are in fact Celtic. Not just Celtic either, but also the identity relating to their Celtic nation, like Gael or Cornish.

When it comes to the the past Celtic religions are inseparable and intertwined, many people see this initially and become stuck in the idea due to lack of appropriate knowledge. It ignores and dismisses the separation of each unique Celtic people by time, region, and cultural shaping events.  Basing the idea of a singular Celtic religion on a few cognate deities (some of which aren’t actually found in each Celtic speaking territory) Lugh, Llew, and Lugus come to mind but it’s important to keep in mind that Lugus isn’t actually directly attested in Gaulish speaking lands.

Are there similarities in each religion? For sure. Does that mean these unique traditions should be thrown together in a single melting pot that is Pan-Celtism? Absolutely not. 

Trying to sploosh the deities together doesn’t work. Ralph Häussler (his background: https://www.uwtsd.ac.uk/staff/ralph-häussler/) talks about Interpretatio and how complex it is among the Celtic speaking people, showing that these religions are individualized multiple levels:

https://www.academia.edu/7952176/R._Haeussler_Interpretatio_Indigena._Re-Inventing_local_cults_in_a_global_world

The thought might occur that an argument one might have for pan-celtism is how they all liked druids, so here is our boy JLB from before who talks about that in his book Celtic Gauls: Gods, Rites and Sanctuaries, specifically p. 59: “There are no grounds for maintaining that the druids, of all the peoples, held identical beliefs. Everything suggests the opposite: the diversity of pantheons and of social and political situations must have been reflected in druid philosophy and mythology. It is not even certain that druids existed everywhere. They are not mentioned in Galatia, where there is talk of priest-kings. In Cisapline, only vates are mentioned. The term druid seems to have been understood in two senses by ancient authors. One is a misleading generalization referring to priests as a whole. The other, more instructive sense only takes the category of great priests into account. In fact it is in this sense the word was used in connection with the Germans. This also seems to be suggested by the etymology of the word, if druid is derived from dru-uid, meaning 'very wise'. However, it could originally have been a term of difference by which the Celts themselves addressed these extraordinary figures. According to Caesar, druidic doctrine came from Britain. He added: 'even today those who want to study it in depth generally go to Britain for that purpose'. The last of the great druidic functions was the administration of justice. Caesar gives us an example when he says that during their great assembly at the centre of Gaul in the territory of the Carnutes, the druids arbitrated in international but also private disputes. These surely involved the most delicate matters that only affect the powerful. Minor judgements must have been given in each civitas. This justice, dispense during the greatest religious ceremony on a Pan-Gallic scale, had a preeminently ritual characters. This mixture of the sacred and the civic, which was never divided into two distinct spheres among the Celts, extended from the juridical to the legislative.The druids, as guarantors of institutions, supervised both their workings and renewal. The power meant that the druids had to be recruited almost exclusively from the nobility. Caesar tells us that many students came forward of their own accord, from personal conviction, but that many young Gauls were also sent by their families. In effect, each family wanted to keep an eye upon this body of priests and to participate in it's power through the agency of one of it's offspring. The daily life of the druids is practically unknown to us. Were they vowed to celibacy? Did they live in communities? the texts only seem to indicate that they could found a family and preserve their fortune. We only know for sure that they lived in sheltered retreat apart from the common crowd, without being disturbed either by war, work or dues of any kind. The druids had an internal hierarchy, found upon position in the curriculum of apprenticeship and later upon reputation for wisdom and personal charisma. Above them was a chief-a sort of Grand Druid- whose moral authority earned him this position. He was chosen by his peers, but sometimes there was a disagreement that might be settled by force of arms. These different bodies of priests were structured into a complex hierarchy. In fact, besides the druids, the ancient authors mention gutuatri, dates, bards, and so on. Each category occupied a position relative to the others, but it also seems that each individual had a determinate place within his category. The hierarchy, which allocated roles within ritual, shows up clearly in the different functions that the authors attributed to the druids. The druids were actually in a great variety of matters, from philosophy to sacrifice and from education to justice, and it seems hard to imagine that the same people consecrated the king and took charge of the maintenance of the sanctuary. Instead, the ancient texts give the impression of a crowd of priests sorted into grades, each of which had a determinate function. These different categories seem to have been structured and rigid, but certainly age, reputation and perhaps even political maneuvers inspired by the system of clientage permitted ascent on this hierarchical scale. Those who were not druids, but lived within their sphere of influence or were historically antecedent, surely had more flexible forms of organization. This could have taken the form of fraternities or secret societies, who initiation ceremonies served at once to give access and ensure cohesion. Social access to them was also wider. It is likely in them the plebs could find means of giving free rein to their sense of religion. It is an illusion to imagine a united druidic society - a society within a society - upon which all cult matter devolved and all of whose members had similar powers. This illusion was derived from descriptions of druidic assemblies in the forest of the Carnutes, which nineteenth-century historians wanted to interpret at the first stirrings of a nation. Instead, the situation of the priesthood was very similar to that of political forces: in full process of change in Caesar's time, it might differ in every detail from one people to another. The history of the druids closely linked with the destiny of kingship and the development of the civitas.”

So while Druids were cool, they were not central to religion, nor were they universal among the Celtic groups. 

While the Celtic religions may have sprung from a single progenitor religion, each of these traditions are separate. (Hence my interest to proto-Indo-European polytheism), but it’s fine if someone wants to take various gods from different Celtic speaking cultures and begin a new tradition with them. 

However, this does not make it ancient Celtic religions the same, or gods pan-celtic (I’m looking at you Wicca!). Additionally, I’d like to re-emphasize that Modern Celts exist, and still have their own separations. The Welsh aren’t Irish, their gods aren’t Irish, and their language isn’t Irish. 

Cheers,

Cunobelinus.

[ihaveasecretlesbocrushonyou]

Forever Alone

This is a sad post.

When I was a child, I used to think I will always be alone. I would never find a husband. (At the time, I had not accepted my queer identity yet.) None of the boys paid me any attention. I was the little black girl with deep dark skin. I “talked like a white girl.” I was the “oreo.” I was “black on the outside, but white on the inside.” No one had a crush on me.

Fast forward to middle and high school...Boys started to pay more attention to me. I got a lot of attention actually. It still surprises me to this day. When I think about it, I think it was because I had a tomboy personality with a very feminine presenting exterior appearance. I was one of the boys. Most of my friends were guys. I kept my distance from the girls because, deep down I had “weird” feelings being around them. It was safer this way. (Now, I know it was me resisting my queer identity.) Anyway, whenever a guy would confess their feelings to me, there was a theme. “We can go out,” they would say, “but let’s keep it on the DL.” The status of my relationships were almost always private information never to be disclosed to the school or people in the neighborhood. I was a secret, but they “really liked me.” Eventually, some of those boys would admit to dating me or having feelings for me, but there was backlash. “Oh! You’re dating BLACKY!” I would pretend like I didn’t hear the negative comments. I would pretend like it didn’t hurt. I would pretend like the boys I dated were not embarrassed to be with me in public. It was all pretend.

I did finally meet a boy who really did love me. I loved him and our relationship grew to become something beautiful. But, I was still fighting my queerness. We soon agreed that we would be non-monogamous. I can explore my queer identity freely and still have our relationship. It was fine for a while. Until it wasn’t.

Even with my first experience with a woman, it started off wrong. She didn’t want anything serious with me because I was leaving town and she wasn’t sure she could live a non-monogamous life. Woman #2 was much older than me. We began with a night of passion and lust. It was not right for me. She wanted me to be her sugar baby. Woman #3 had a temper and lashed at me once. It only took one time for me to realize it was not a good fit. I cut her off. She reached out to me once as if nothing ever happened and I had to block her. Woman #4 was sweet. She was nice but no. Just not right in so many ways and I realized quickly that I only engaged with her because I was so lonely. What a shitty thing for me to do. Woman #5, you were precious, independent, strong, and so inspiring. You only wanted me in the shadows though. Woman #6 taught me I could love a woman so deeply it hurts. I could. There was potential. You gave me so many learning experiences, but you also gave me a lot of pain. So much pain came from meeting you that I don’t know whether or not it was for better or for worse.

There was a theme with these women. I was distracted by our lustful moments. The same could be said for the moments with the boys in high school too! I was distracted by sex and lust. I thought that was why I was unlovable. This is why no one wants me publicly. This is I am desired only in the shadows. They only want my body.

So after Woman #6, I took a personal stance to better my self and set new boundaries. I was also faced with a new challenge. I now knew I was not straight and I actually accepted it. I thought maybe I’m mostly gay but there is an exception. I learned quickly that no. No, I am queer. I am not interested in men. I tried. It’s just not me. I had to end things with my long-term partner. The boy who had managed to love me through it all. He became a wonderful man, but just not the partner I wanted.

We started the progress of healing and repairing and now we are in the middle of separating. During all of this, I took a vow of celibacy. I deleted all of my dating apps. I had to make a change. I wanted to find love again, and this time, I wanted this love to be right.

I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t think it was necessary. Until I met someone, who I thought could be that change that I have desired for so long. Until today, when my dreams were shattered and crushed again. The wall I have built around me gets higher, stronger, with every heartbreak. I am heartbroken and I never even had this person.

I knew deep down it was never going to happen for us because truth be told--it never does for me. People always want the benefits of my kindness and time and love and affection, but they never want to commit to anything serious with me. For the longest time, I thought it was because of sex. I really did. We never even kissed. We never held hands. We never shared a lustful intimate moment. I took things so slow. I did everything I thought was right. I listened to you. I cared for you. I respected you. Yet, nothing came out of it. Just another month of my time gone forever into the abyss.

Why did we do everything? Why? Why am I so unlovable? Why does no one really want me? Truly all of me?

I keep wondering if I will ever be able to tear down these walls again. My walls are back up for the summer. I want to forget you already.

I don’t know if the love I desire exist for me. I don’t think she is out there. I travel everywhere looking for you and if I keep getting hurt, I don’t know if I can be vulnerable enough to meet you.

[liminoidal]

All the 50 qs for Icio

My fish kid?? 0^0 im stoked

Their age? - They are 420 (blaze it)

Their sexuality/sexual preference? - They can be interested in anyone, but let’s be real, they have only ever been interested in Juni (so Junisexual?)

Any siblings/Only child? - They are an only child by birth, but they like to think they have a found family rn.

Their favourite season? - There aren’t seasons on Dryas like Earth? But they prefer the colder months cuz they prefer long skirts and that lifestyle is not hopping during the warm and humid months.

Who were/are their parents/guardians? - Their birth mother was a bitch, their birth father likely didn’t know they existed, but the Templar Koda (who raised them) was pretty chill.

Their gender? - They are a fish person who was raised by a bunch of trees, gender is the least of their problems.

Their date of birth? - October 23--yes they are the dreaded Scorpio.

What clothing style? - They love long skits and crop tops, and since they don’t need the templar cowl, they love sleeveless shirts.

What is their favourite food after a break-up? - They’ve never had a break-up? The closest they got was when they weren’t able to talk to Juni, and then they just kinda... Didn’t eat lmao.

Their favourite thing to do after a break-up? - They are a meditation freak normally, but when Juni is mad at them they meditate like constantly. Also, painting nails is super relaxing in their opinion.

What happens in the ‘honeymoon phase’ for this character? - I mean them and Juni are soulmates, so they just tease her and also privately worship her, and also like. So much sex. Seriously it’s kinda embarrassing at some point.

How many serious relationships have they been in? - One? With Pan, praise be to him. Lmao, jk, they have only ever been with Juni because templars take a vow of celibacy.

What is their nationality? - They are Dryad by nurture, but half-Theuthidan half-human by nature.

What languages do they speak? - They speak Dryad, Common, Binary, and learned Theuthidan curses just to curse them out.

What is their profession/Education? - They were educated as a templar, so they have extensive magic and religious education.

Their favourite comfort food? - They drink tea to be comforted.

What’s a food they hate? - They hate the idea of fish. Even if they hate Theuthida, it just makes them viscerally uncomfortable.

Their music taste? - They are the person that turns on the “lo-fi beats to study to” playlist and listens religiously.

Is there a story behind their name/meaning? - Their mom didn’t want to be associated with them, so she gave them their father’s surname and picked a random first name.

Something they do that seems childish to others? - Their first time sleeping with Juni was... Rough, to say the least. And overall, they missed out on a lot growing up with templars, so their excitement for parties is kinda childlike. They are also stubborn in their self-hatred, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary.

What is their all-time favourite TV show? - They’ve never seen a TV show? But if they were gonna like anything, it would probably be Steven Universe or Adventure Time.

What is their all-time favourite movie? - They love Finding Nemo. They might have a few issues with their family.

How big is their family? - 16? Their found family is pretty big.

Are they close to anyone specific in the family? - They are closest to Juni obvs, but they are getting really close with Castor and Ciri. Them and Nivviah have a bond through shared heritage (that took a bit to get used to), they are good friends with Val, and Venus (and soon Flor) and them have weekly spa nights where they gossip about the ship and give fashion tips.

Have they got any allergies? - They are allergic to weed. The irony hasn’t stopped hitting them this entire year.

Are they an emotional person? - They specifically are not, mostly because their wild magic and their emotions are tied in odd ways. Sometimes it can lead to gross things like a third eye. Sometimes it can be more... dangerous, like lightning in their hands or poison in the air.

Do they get angry/lose their temper quickly? - No, they have meditation for that.

What are some of their guilty pleasures? - They really like standing in front of the mirror and just... adding spells to make it seem like they are full human, or dryad. It’s a nice thought, but then the spell fades and they get a bit sad.

Do they have pets? Do they want pets? - They don’t have pets and they don’t fully understand the concept like... You just own little creatures? And call them names? Why?

Do they like kids? Do they want kids/have kids? - They have loved kids for years. Between away missions, they would read stories to the orphans and help them go to sleep. They do have kids, and they are working on accepting that. One of them is literally a soul attached to a locket, and the other two are snilds (snake childs).

Who’s cuddle buddy are they? - They are Juni’s cuddle buddy, and sometimes the rest of the team in they feel like they need it.

Do they have any tattoos? - Nope, unless you count the scales.

Do they have any piercings? - Nope, they are not into pain like that.

What is their hair colour? Is it their natural colour? - Their hair color is light auburn and yes, it is that way by nature, despite all evidence that might point otherwise.

Do they like musicals? - They hadn’t heard a musical until [insert name here] introduced them to the concept. Now they listen to Next to Normal religiously.

Do they like marmite? - They don’t know what a marmite is and at this point they are too afraid to ask.

Do they like glitter? - They love glitter but like it’s not very good for their scales cuz if you think it takes forever to get off of human skin, you have never had glitter stuck between a couple of scales.

Do they believe in the supernatural? - They are a religious person, and even if they weren’t, at this point they’ve seen too much proof to refute it.

Have they ever seen a dead body? - Bitch, they’ve caused dead bodies.

Have they ever had a near-death experience? - Yup. It ended in their first son dying and being put in a necklace. They don’t really wanna experience that shit again. Knowing Castor, it probably will happen again.

Have they ever broken a bone? - Nah, they’ve been super careful about that stuff.

What are they like when they’re drunk/what kind of drunk are they? - They are an honest and giggly drunk. It’s not as fun as it sounds.

Have they ever drunk underage? - They barely got to drink overage, they are 420.

What is the first thing they do when they wake up? - They meditate for awhile, usually talking to Heron but sometimes just on their own, pondering… Everything.

Do they consider themselves popular? - Not really? That was always Juni. Their inferiority complex has always been a barrier to them seeking out friendships, and they genuinely like alone time. (They say to themself, quietly dying of loneliness on the side when Juni is with other people.) But they’re working on it. They’ve got the Freedom Vessel now.

How do they like their tea/coffee? - They like that plain leaf water, and can’t drink coffee.

What do they smell like? - Slightly fish-y? Not a lot because they don’t like go in water very much, but a little. Also a lot like trees, specifically Juni.

Are they a virgin? - Not since they left Dryas they’re not. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Do they wear glasses/contacts? - Nope, they got that good fish eyesight.

Are they good at remembering significant dates? Anniversaries, birthdays etc? - Normally yeah. Sometimes it slips their mind, but they are also four centuries old, so they sometimes ask for some graciousness. (*eyes Juni freaking out a hundred years ago for accidentally forgetting to say “happy birthday” one freaking time) 

[cactusnotes]

Change and Continuity in Doctrine

Change and continuity in doctrine: liturgy, the eucharist and the Bible; doctrinal disputes as reflected in the Ten Articles and the Bishops’ Book; the King’s Book and the Six Articles.

July 1536 - Ten Articles

Articles related to doctrines: 1. That Holy Scriptures and the three Creeds are the basis and summary of a true Christian faith. 2. That baptism conveys remission of sins and the regenerating grace of the Holy Spirit,and is absolutely necessary as well for children as adults. 3. That penance consists of contrition, confession, and reformation, and is necessary to salvation. 4. That the body and blood of Christ are really present in the elements of the eucharist. 5. That justification is remission of sin and reconciliation to God by the merits of Christ; but good works are necessary. Articles related to ceremonies: 1. That images are useful as remembrances, but are not objects of worship. 2. That saints are to be honored as examples of life, and as furthering our prayers. 3. That saints may be invoked as intercessors, and their holydays observed. 4. That ceremonies are to be observed for the sake of their mystical signification, and as conducive to devotion. 5. That prayers for the dead are good and useful, but the efficacy of papal pardon, and of soul-masses offered at certain localities, is negatived.

It was partly aligned with the schmalkaldic league’s beliefs, but not entirely: Henry wanted to show he was his own man. The three sacraments found themselves in their Catholic form (only one baptism). Similarly, the Eucharist: ‘under the same form and figure of bread and wine, the very selfsame body and blood of Christ is corporally, really, and in the very substance exhibited, distributed, and received unto and of all them which receive the said sacrament.’ 

Justification is mixed between Catholic and Lutheran: sinners attain this justification by contrition and faith joined with charity but it is faith which is the most important. 

As for ceremonies, he’s good with images and saints, as long as they’re not prayed to. Ceremonies too, are useful but none of these ceremonies have power to remit sin, but only to stir and lift up our minds unto God, by whom only our sins be forgiven. He ends by saying the Bishop of Rome cannot deal with these purgatorial prayers.  

August 1536 - Cromwell’s Injunctions

Cromwell clarified how people worshipped in this injunction, rather than introduce new beliefs. It stressed forming religion through education, preaching scripture, and it also encouraged the rich to support these efforts. It required the Pater Noster, Creed and Ten Commandments be taught in English, and an English Bible, accessible to all, available in each Parish. In regular sermons through the year, the Bishop of Rome must be dismissed. 

They had to maintain some ceremonies to maintain order. It restricted pilgrimages and images, and all clergy had to live holy lives, away from pubs, play houses and the like. Every year, money has to be distributed to the poor, education and churches by honest means. 

October 1536

Pilgrimage of Grace. Religious motives could be due to the Dissolution of the Monasteries, or Act of Supremacy, but also some of the more protestant changes seen above

January 1537 - Great Council Called

Mainly in response to the Pilgrimage of Great, this council of nobles and higher clergy discussed doctoral issues in attempt to rectify the evident inadequacy of the Ten Articles. The council overall did little, which could explain why Bigod’s rebellion occurred, as Aske promised this council to be useful to them, when it wasn’t. 

February 1537 - First Synod of the Church of England 

The First synod of the Church of England was called by Cromwell, similar to Papal Legates, but this was without the Pope. The Synod began with a fierce row over the number of sacraments, due to the exclusion of four in the Articles. None of the Bishops invited represented any of the standing monasteries, nor were there many monks or friars, just scholars, demonstrating how Cromwell saw the Dissolution as successful. This Synod was to become a basis for the Bishops’ Book. 

September 1537 - Bishops’ Book

The Institution of a Christen Man, commonly known as the Bishop’s Book, was doctrinal statements from English Bishops. It was generally more conservative, with the seven sacraments partially restored and links to purgatory. However, there was still a Lutheran influence, with no mention of transubstantiation, a Protestant view of justification and images, and rejection of the Bishop of Rome. In the 10 commandments, the one against images was first. Of course Henry hadn't read the book, so hadn’t fully approved of it. 

1937 - Matthew’s Bible published

Matthew’s Bible is produced by John Rogers, under a pseudonym of Thomas Matthew. The New Testament translation was from Tyndale, and parts in the Old Testament were translated by Coverdale, as Rodgers was caught and killed before he could actually complete the Old Testament. There were 2000 notes to help ordinary people understand it better. It was dedicated to the King and was licenced to be distributed, with 1500 copies shipped to England. Cromwell definitely knew a lot of the Bible was based on Tyndale’s translation, which would give it a much more Lutheran bias. Tyndale’s name was outlawed in the nation, and if the King knew of Tyndale’s influence, it would’ve been banned immediately. 

1938

Henry VIII read through the Bishops’ Book, and corrected it much, making it much more conservative. Cranmer opposed it privately (how he survived I really don’t know).

June 1538 - Nice Truce

Pope Paul III, Francis I and Charles V agreed a ten year truce, though their hatred meant the two kings sat in two different rooms, the Pope moving between them. This meant their primary targets were not each other, but could be England, especially with the Pope present.

September 1538 - Cromwell’s injunctions

Cromwell’s second royal injections were published. To outline what these asked: all the King’s injunctions are to be kept; all Churches to have a large print, accessible version of the English Bible; nobody to discourage the reading of the Bible; every Sunday the creed has to be recited; have confession every Lent; sermons clarifying scripture coming first, not images or pilgrimages; every birth, wedding and death must be registered and fast days may not be changed by anyone by the King. There is clearly a Protestant influence in this. 

September 1538

Gardiner returned to England. He was one of the biggest conservative influences to Henry, so this return allowed him to further interact with the King.

November 1538 - Lambert’s execution

John Lambert was Cromwell and Tyndale’s mate. He was tried because he got into a theological debate, where he denied transubstantiation. He even wrote a paper on it, which was passed to Cranmer, who tried him for heresy, ironically. His trial was personally attended by Henry VIII, Cranmer and Cromwell, where he stuck to his view. Henry defended transubstantiation, demonstrating his return to the idea of the ‘Defender of the Faith’. He also wished for Lambert to die horribly as a warning. He was to have a low flame consume his legs, before being stabbed with pikestaffs and chucked on the ground, still alive.  His final words were ‘None but Christ! None but Christ!’. Cromwell wept when he watched Lambert, his friend, die. 

January 1539

An attempt for an  alliance to the Schmalkalden League: theological disputes prevented this.

March 1539 - Great Bible

The Great Bible was the first English Bible allowed to be read aloud in Church, prepared by Myles Coverdale, employed by Cromwell, though he still had some of Tyndale’s work still. It was to be stocked in every Church. The front depicted Henry in the centre, Cranmer and Cromwell besides him. More than 9,000 copies had been printed by 1541. It was more popular than the increasing romance novels around: people were buying and reading it. 

April 1539

Cromwell remains confined to his house until 10 May, after falling ill.

19 May 1539 - Dissolution Act

The Act for the Dissolution of the Greater Monasteries was passed in this year: ‘the King our sovereign lord shall have, hold, possess, and enjoy to him, his heirs and successors for ever, all and singular such late monasteries’. This granted the king’s right to all monasteries not included in the 1536 legislation, that is to say, all of the rest of the monasteries in England and Wales. Between 1536 and 1540 he took over 800 monasteries, abbeys, nunneries and friaries, which had been home to more than 10,000 monks, nuns, friars and canons.

May 1539 - Statute of Six Articles

Known formally as ‘An Act Abolishing Diversity in Opinions’, informally as ‘the bloody whip with six strings’. The House of Lords attempted to examine religious doctrine, and after a lot of argument, the Duke of Norfolk decided that they should examine six key questions. They seemed to Catholic doctrine on matters of: transubstantiation, the reasonableness of withholding the cup from the laity during communion, clerical celibacy, observance of vows of chastity, permission for private masses and the importance of auricular confession. Anyone who refused faced the death penalty. It is as follows:

First, that in the most blessed Sacrament of the altar, by the strength and efficacy of Christ's mighty word (it being spoken by the priest), is present really, under the form of bread and wine, the natural body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ, conceived of the Virgin Mary; and that after the consecration there remaineth no substance of bread or wine, nor any other substance, but the substance of Christ, God and man.

Secondly, that communion in both kinds is not necessary ad salutem, by the law of God, to all persons; and that it is to be believed, and not doubted of, but that in the flesh, under the form of bread, is the very blood; and with the blood, under the form of wine, is the very flesh; as well apart, as though they were both together.

Thirdly, that priests after the order of priesthood received, as afore, may not marry, by the law of God.

Fourthly, that vows of chastity or widowhood, by man or woman made to God advisedly, ought to be observed by the law of God; and that it exempts them from other liberties of Christian people, which without that they might enjoy.

Fifthly, that it is meet and necessary that private masses be continued and admitted in this the king's English Church and congregation, as whereby good Christian people, ordering themselves accordingly, do receive both godly and goodly consolations and benefits; and it is agreeable also to God's law.

Sixthly, that auricular confession is expedient and necessary to be retained and continued, used and frequented in the Church of God.

Evangelical bishops Latimer and Shaxton resigned their sees. Cranmer debated furiously with himself, but remained Archbishop of Canterbury.

May 1539

Due to clerical celibacy, Archbishop Cranmer sent his German wife abroad.

March 1540

Waltham, the last surviving monastery, surrendered: the end of the dissolution.

June 1540 - Cromwell’s downfall

Thomas Cromwell arrived for a Privy Council meeting late, where Thomas Howard  shouted ‘Cromwell! Do not sit there! That is no place for you! Traitors do not sit among gentlemen.’ Howard ripped off his chains. He was arrested there. The reasons could be association with heretics, Anne of Cleves, or Gardenier’s whispers into Henry's era, growing awareness of his beliefs. He was charged with treason, heresy, felony and corruption. He was sentenced to be hung, drawn and quartered. Who wrote to Henry, admitting ‘I have meddled in so many matters under your Highness that I am not able to answer them all’, and ended with ‘Most gracious prince I cry for mercy, mercy, mercy.’ Henry still sent money to him in prison, and had his sentence changed to decapitation, despite Cromwell being of low birth. On the same day, he got married to Katherine Howard. He was cheerful on his day of death, and on the scaffold, likely ironically talked about being Catholic, but more meaning ‘universal’ than the religion. He maintained innocence until the end: ‘Many have slandered me, and reported that I have been a bearer of such as I have maintained evil opinions; which is untrue.’ His execution was a botched, awful job, a nasty end for, in Henry’s words, ‘the most faithful servant I had ever had.’

July 1540 - Barnes’ execution

Robert Barnes was a bright scholar and Lutheran preacher, and Augustinan Friar. He used his house arrest in London to help distribute Lutheran texts. Ten years before his death, he fled to Wittenburg, where he studied under Luther too. His writings made him known to Cromwell, who used him as an envoy for messages between Luther and Henry, and later Princes and Henry. He was extremely loyal to Henry despite his protestant preaching. Once Cromwell had fallen, Barnes lost his protector, and ended up burnt as a heretic. 

August 1541

Three Windsor Martyrs’: burnt for refusing Easter Eucharist, denying transubstantiation.

March 1543

Cranmer was accused of heresy, but lived due to accepting Henry's change to the Bishop’s book and a parliamentary statute that restricted Bible reading to gentry and nobles. 

1543 - The King’s Book

Henry finally wrote something for himself, entitled ‘The Necessary Doctrine and Erudition for Any Christian Man’ or the ‘King’s Book’. It was a revision of the Bishop’s Book, which continued attacks on images, and stressed royal supremacy but supported and backed the six articles, defending transubstantiation, good works involved in justification, free will, prayer to Mary, and educational sermons. Overall, it looked like he was straining Catholicism without the Pope. 

1543 - Act for the Advancement of True Religion

Parliament enacted that ‘no manner of persons, after the first of October, should take upon them to read openly to others in any church or open assembly within any of the King's Dominions, the Bible or any part of the Scripture in English, unless he is so appointed thereunto by the King ... on pain of suffering one hundred month's imprisonment.’ Those who were unable to read it ever were ‘women nor artificers, journeymen, serving men of the degree of yeomen or under husbandmen nor labourers’ Those who could read it could only do so privately. This was in fear that they may misinterpret the text. Many other books were banned in an attempt to unify thought. Basically it was just Chaucer  and autobiographies left.

March 1544 -Third Act of Succession

Mary and Elizabeth were restored to the line of succession, with Edward and his potential descendents first in the line, and then after, Mary and Elizabeth. He also reserved spaces for his own potential future kids...haha. 

June 1544- English Litany

This was published to be used in processions, especially in troubling times, such as in famine. Henry noticed people were unable to respond due to language barriers, so he wanted something in English. It was drawn up by Cranmer, using sources both from Luther and Greek Orthodox Litanies. In conservative Milton, Kent, they refused to say this in Church, so said it outside, in Latin. Overall, the piece seems neutral, but there is an anti-Catholic favour in some parts, like, ‘From all sedycion and privey conspiracie, from the tyranny of the bisshop of Rome and all his detestable enormyties’.

May 1545 - King’s Prymer

This Prymer, edited and authorised by the King, listed the Calendar, the Creed, the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, the Salutation of the Virgin, the seven penitential psalms, a litany, and prayers for various occasions, the only one authorised for use in England. It was a shift again from Latin to English, and had removed certain Catholic ideas. Every young person had to learn some of the prayers in English. 

January 1546

'Creeping to the Cross' added to the list of forbidden practises. It involved approaching the cross barefoot and on your knees, a sign of reverence and humility. It was particularly despited by Protestants. Henry didn’t fully authorise it in his old age, but his son certainly didn’t mind doing so when he inherited the throne the following year.

Doctrinal Disputes: A Summary

‘England was starting to become a Protestant country and a series of radical religious changes were implemented from 1536 to 1540, in particular the dissolution of the monasteries which started in 1536. This was followed by the Ten Articles of 1536 which rejected Catholic doctrine and they were followed by the Royal Injunctions. In 1537 the Bishop’s Book continued the drift towards Protestantism, which was followed by the publication of the Matthew Bible. In 1538 Cromwell issued further Royal Injunctions to the clergy to impose greater religious conformity in England. In April 1539, the English Great Bible was published which endorsed the authority of the King over the Church in England. However, Henry VIII remained a conservative and the Six Articles, published in 1539, confirmed this. Many Catholic beliefs remained. Transubstantiation, clerical celibacy and masses for the dead remained. The final religious changes under Henry VIII were the King’s Book of 1543 which confirmed much of the Six Articles. Images and relics remained and the Bible was afforded little importance.’ (Source : eGUIDE // History)

[multifandomhaven]

Of Whispers and Dragons

Chapter Two

Raenerha learned very quickly that as even though she didn't miss the stench of sweat on the breeze of every person that passed her, she didn't like the North. It was blistering cold, especially when she was at sea, and the further she went the more snow seemed to fall. The skies were a weary gray - a color that matched her mood at the time - and clouds were filled to bursting with new snow.

Raenerha couldn't remember how long she'd been sailing, but she knew she was ready to plant herself on solid ground again. She closed her eyes and shivered violently, silently picturing a hearth with a crackling fire.

"You're gonna freeze to death out here, girl!" A grating voice boomed behind her. Raenerha jumped and whipped her head around at the noise. It was the tall, thin man that had, up until this point, been silent for the majority of their shared journey. He scoffed at her before he staggered below deck. In just moments he reappeared with a large, dark brown fur overcoat. He threw it at her without looking. "Put this on. If you don't make it to Eastwatch I'll lose my head."

"How do people live in such a place?" Raenerha wondered aloud, pulling the garment tightly around her shoulders. She tried to ignore the smell that came from it by focusing on the man's leathery mouth as he spoke.

"You'd better get used to it, girl. You're going to The Wall - there ain't too many places as cold as The Wall. You bring any furs with ya?" He said with a shrug of his bony shoulder, his milky blue eyes staring straight through her.

Raenerha felt like crying but she held it in - she feared her tears may freeze before they fell. "Only what I'm wearing."

"It may work," he said eyeing her garb.

It wasn't much, only a thick cloak, a pair of trousers made of a thick, warm material with gloves to match and a pair of heavy boots. She had nothing to cover her head, but she'd found time to knit a scarf on the journey - at least it would offer a little bit of warmth.

"Maybe the Night's Watchmen will have something extra for you." The man said finally. "You can have that coat you have on - it belonged to one of the crewmen before he was offed."

Raenerha swallowed thickly. "Thank you."

The man, once again, shrugged at her and continued on his way.

Raenerha sighed and went back inside the cabin of the ship, desperately hoping she was close to her destination.

Aemon had been waiting on the visitor for weeks. Ever since he'd received a raven from King's Landing he'd been keeping his ears privy to any of the young men's gossip around the castle.

"Maester Aemon," a voice that had become very familiar to him rounded the corner.

The maester raised his head in acknowledgement. "Samwell Tarly."

"Maester, there's a visitor here to see you - says it's important she speaks to you in private." Samwell's voice was strained. It sounded like the young man was nervous.

Aemon gave a solitary nod. "Send her in."

The old man listened as two pairs of footsteps entered the room, one much heavier than the other. He heard young Samwell excuse himself and then the sound of a chair scooting against the wood floor beneath them filled his ears.

"You've come a very long way to see an old man like me," Aemon started, hearing the person's mouth open and close without words. "I assume you have a reason for coming this far North?"

The person cleared her throat. "Yes. I was sent here by The Master of Whispers."

"The Spider," Aemon confirmed in his shaky voice. "And why has Lord Varys asked you to seek out my company?"

The woman before him hummed slightly and he could hear her foot gently tapping the floor. "Because you, besides my sister, are my only living family."

"A Targaryen, then." Aemon spoke. "You come from King's Landing, so you are not the Dragon Queen Daenerys. You are Raenerha."

"I am," Raenerha confirmed quietly. "I've hidden behind the surname Waters for so many years the name Targaryen is almost a foregin concept to me now."

Aemon's lips twitched in reply. "I understand. I left all names and titles at the gates of Castle Black when I joined the Night's Watch. I am now simply Maester Aemon."

"Varys told me to seek you out, he was very adamant that I leave for Castle Black as soon as I could... I do not pretend to know his reasons." Raenerha began softly. "Is there anything you can do to help me find my sister? Do you know her whereabouts?"

The maester shook his head. "I'm afraid I have no ties to anyone beyond this wall, north or south."

A heavy sigh left the woman's lips and Aemon was almost reminded of his brother Aegon, Raenerha's grandfather, in that moment.

Raenerha hummed in irritation. "I understand."

"However," the maester continued, palming his desk for a certain piece of paper. "I received a raven only two nights ago from King's Landing."

Raenerha's breath caught in her throat, but she stayed silent.

"Lord Varys wishes you safe travels on your way to Mereen." Aemon said, handing the scroll to Raenerha. "He writes that there you will find your sister and her army."

"Thank you, Maester." Raenerha sniffed quietly, her tears nearly blinding her. "I've been looking forward to the day I reunite with my sister for as long as I can recall, I have never wanted anything more than to see her agian, and you've helped me get a few steps closer."

The maester did his best to give her a smile. "I have done nothing, Raenerha. I have only served my purpose here at the Night's Watch. Now, when you leave my chambers please seek out the young man who showed you in - his name is Samwell. He will take you to safety until you are ready to continue your journey. Do not trust any other men - they have seen no women for a number of months."

Raenerha nodded although he couldn't see. "I understand. Thank you again, Maester. May the Gods rain blessings upon you."

There weren't as many men guarding the wall, Raenerha thought as she stepped out of the maester's chambers. She had her hands by her sides, unsure of her surroundings and very much on edge after Aemon's warning.

"Miss," a voice called from behind her.

Raenerha inhaled deeply, painfully aware that she had no weapon to defend herself - and even if she did she was rather unsure if she could use it on a man. She turned sharply and softened a bit when she saw the round face of the man that showed her in. "You are Samwell, correct?"

"Yes," the man breathed. "Maester Aemon asked me to show you to a room."

Raenerha nodded and followed when he began walking toward the back of the tower. He turned a corner and Raenerha nearly ran into his back when he stopped without a word. She watched as he picked at his fingers, looking for the words he wanted to express.

"There... is another woman inside this room. Her name is Gilly," Sam admitted sheepishly. "You can stay with her. My chambers is the next one over and if I'm not in mine and you need something then go to Jon Snow's. His is two down from yours. If he isn't in his, go straight to Aemon."

Raenerha nodded. "The maester warned me of the others."

Sam winced. "Yes, a pack of wild animals, they are."

"Thank you, Samwell." Raenerha offered a small smile. "I appreciate your help."

The man grinned. "Sam, please. And it's no trouble, really. Have you eaten yet?"

Raenerha shook her head, only then noticing how hungry she truly was. "I haven't."

"We'll get you some food up here. I was just going to get Gilly's from the kitchens." Sam offered.

Raenerha decided Sam was a genuine person - she could tell by his kind eyes. "Thank you, Sam."

Sam gave her a small, soft nod and padded back down the hallway from where they'd just came.

Raenerha's hand went to the door and opened it quietly. She peered inside and saw a girl in the corner with a little baby. "Are you Gilly?"

The girl nodded. "Yes."

"I'm Raenerha. I'm to stay in this room with you for a while, I hope you don't mind?" Raenerha spoke quietly, not sure if the baby was awake or sleeping.

Gilly shook her head, her mess of brown hair swaying with the motion. "I don't mind."

"Sam showed me in," Raenerha told her. "Have you been here long?"

Gilly shrugged. "I don't really know how long it's been. Little Sam is only a few moons old."

Raenerha blinked. "I thought the men of the Night's Watch took vows of celibacy?"

"He isn't Sam's," Gilly clarified with a breath. "Only named after him."

"He seems like a good man," Raenerha told the woman, inching toward her slowly. "Honest."

Gilly, again, nodded. It was almost as if she were scared of Raenerha. "He is."

There was a knock at the door and Raenerha looked at Gilly for direction, but she simply looked away from the door and clutched the bundled baby closer to her chest. Raenerha guessed that she'd been assaulted or nearly so many times since she'd taken refuge in the castle. Raenerha sighed and looked around the room for something to use in case an overzealous man tried barging in on them. She found a fire poker in the corner and wrapped her hand around it tightly.

"Who is it?" Raenerha called quietly, stepping toward the door slowly. Her hand reach out for the door when it was swung open quickly. Raenerha gasped and cocked the poker in her hand over her shoulder, ready to swing at the person behind the door.

"Hey, it's alright," Sam's voice came from behind the door. "It's alright, it's just me and Jon."

Raenerha lowered the poker slowly. "Sorry."

Sam shook his head and jerked his head at the man behind him to follow him inside. "It's better to be safe. This is Jon."

Raenerha looked at the dark haired man behind Sam and gave a small nod of her head. "Raenerha."

"I couldn't carry both trays," Sam continued bumbling over to Gilly, a great smile on his face. "Didn't mean to frighten you."

Jon held his arms out further in front of him. "Um, this is yours."

"Thank you," Raenerha said. She took the tray from him and nearly drooled at the smells of the soups and breads on it. She'd eaten better meals by far while with the royal children, but she hadn't had a hot meal in weeks. "Thank you, Jon. Again, sorry I tried to hit you. And you, Sam."

Sam waved her off and Jon stood with a tiny, crooked grin on his lips.

"Is everything alright?" Raenerha asked, looking into his dazed eyes.

Jon nodded, thinking back to his younger sister, hoping that wherever she was she was safe. "Yeah, you just reminded me of someone."

"Well, I hope it was a good memory," Raenerha said politely.

Sam and Gilly were speaking quietly between themselves. Sam nodded and put his hand gently on the top of Little Sam's head before getting on his feet. "We'll leave you ladies to your food. It was nice to meet you Raenerha. Again, if you need anything we're right down the hall."

Raenerha nodded and waited for the door to close behind the men. She watched as Gilly began spooning the soup into her mouth. Raenerha's stomach growled and she, too, dug into her food. The fire crackled beside her and, without having to fear for her life for the first time in weeks, she let herself relax.

[dauriala]

In college I minored in religion. And one of the most impactful courses that I took was on the Dutch Catholic priest, professor, writer and theologian- Henri Nouwen. I hardly knew anything about his life and I hadn’t the slightest idea the significance it would have on my own. But it was this very semester, after relating so closely with his story, that I decided to change my mind about not coming out. His struggle convinced me that there was still time to prevent myself from the same inner turmoil- I didn’t need to go through all that he did. I will never be able to personally thank Henri for allowing his secret to be exposed but I feel quite indebted to him because of it. 
((Nouwen struggled with his sexuality, which may have contributed to his feelings of self-doubt. Although this struggle was known by those close to him, Nouwen never publicly identified as homosexual despite acknowledging the matter in discussions with friends and alluding to a personal struggle in his private journals. It was said that Nouwen only became fully comfortable with his sexual orientation in the last few years of his life, and that Nouwen’s depression was caused, in part, by the conflict between his priestly vows of celibacy and the sense of loneliness and longing for intimacy that he experienced. This took an enormous emotional, spiritual and physical toll on his life and may have contributed to his early death. While his struggle to reconcile his priestly vows of celibacy with his human desire for physical and emotional intimacy appears in his writings, there is no evidence that Nouwen ever broke his vow of celibacy)) #nationalcomingoutday