#and the influence of the Lord who may be the Devil influencing him to do bad things

[icharchivist]

Wait fr

Netflix is turning gay lovers into brothers??? And they claim we have low media literacy

What ass backwards kind of choice is that to make in 2024 I am baffled

Poor Oscar Wilde truly

The Picture of Dorian Gray, Chapter 9

imagine reading that and thinking "ah yes Basil and Dorian should totally be siblings." The fucking galls.

Oscar Wilde was put on trial for "indecency", aka homosexuality, when he was caught with a male lover a few years after the publication of The Picture of Dorian Gray. The book was literally used as a proof against him, as a proof for the "crimes" he was accused of. Oscar Wilde was condemned to forced work that made him incredibly weak and he died a couple years later out of complication from the pain he endured while incarcerated.

Like, there's a lot of levels to the homophobia here. Yes, media literacy is low. But so is history literacy. So is an understanding of Wilde's life. so is the respect for the writer who's book was used to condemn him to die because of his homosexuality. (well, possible bisexuality since he was married to a woman, but it's not like we have a proper denomination about Wilde's sexuality, especially at a time being anything other than straight was condemned by the law).

This is genuinely so upsetting to me lmao like Wilde wasn't tried for homosexuality using this book as proof for you to make two of the characters that imply that to be BROTHERS.

[heavndoll]

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

pairings — catholic!fem reader and eddie munson

summary — you're a good catholic girl. always have been — even though you're dating eddie munson, who's the complete opposite of that. he's crude and vulgar, and his influence may just taint you entirely.

warnings tags — adult language. mentions of religion, talks of god. eddie hates god, but has a god kink. major blasphemy. reader has daddy issues. mentions of jason craver (ew i know). graphic details of smut: loss of virginity (virgin!reader) + corruption. oral (eddie receiving). f!ngering. slight degrading but more praise. wrong usage of a rosary.

Eddie Munson was merely the Devil in your parents eyes.

To you, he was the seventh heaven.

Crossing paths with him was not a mistake, but a blessing. Eddie took care of you, and loved you. He really loved you.

You met him through a friend who went to Hawkins with him, and you couldn’t perceive him as a bad boy, whatsoever. He was genuine and kind the second you and him met, asking questions about you that no other guy ever had done.

But you knew he was not the guy you could bring home to your parents. Your parents were aware of him, since your father was a Sheriff for the Hawkins department, and always got reports of him.

You couldn’t tell them about your infatuation for Eddie, and how your heart burned for him, belonged to him. You were more faithful to Eddie Munson than you were to your Catholicism, and for you to say that to your parents, would earn you a kick to church camp.

You couldn’t say that their sweet little girl was in love with Hawkins’ freak; that he had told her many ways he wanted to deprive her of innocence and purity; that he dreamed of her worshiping him under her cross.

And you dreamed of that, every Sunday, for the past many month.

You sat in between your father and mother as the Priest read from the bible, and you fiddled with the ending hem of your white, babydoll dress. You stared mindfully at the cross, your head drawing the image of Eddie taking your virginity, rupturing your virtue, right underneath it.

You did feel a bit of guilt when you thought such lewd things, and you did blame Eddie for it. You felt even worse thinking of them in church, where you were supposed to be devoting your love and soul to the Lord, not a wild man.

“Hebrews 13:4 says, ‘Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge’”, the Priest spoke confidently, eyes glancing up to everyone for a second.

You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping tightly on your dress.

What the fuck, Jesus, you thought to yourself. I’m a fucking eighteen year old, of course I want to fornicate!

“Sweet dear,” your mother whispered, and you looked at her. “You look unwell. Are you okay?”

“Do you mind if I take a moment outside?” You wondered, brows drawing upwards. “It feels stuffy. Just for a minute, please.”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Very well, then. Be quiet, dear.”

You thanked her, standing up, and quickly — but quietly — dismissed yourself out of the building, pushing open the wooden doors. The second you were outside, you groaned, the doors swinging close behind you.

“I’m damned for Hell,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple in frustration.

“So am I,” you heard a voice come from the side of you. You spin your head, finding Eddie there, smoking a cigarette. “For smoking of the Lord’s sacred grounds.”

“Eddie,” you sighed in relief, walking up to him, and he brought you into his embrace. He kissed the side of your head, before pulling back. “What are you doing here? If my parents — or anyone — sees you, they will make a fret out of it!”

Eddie chuckled. “Is that so?”

“I’m serious, Eds,” you frowned, throwing a small, playful slap to his shoulder. “We don’t need a scene.”

“Ah, I know, angel,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for assurance. “I just needed to see you. Was wondering what you are doing tonight?”

“I have homework, and finish my project on the Betrayal of Judas tonight,” you explained, annoyed at the mere thought of it. “It’s going to take all night. Why do you ask?”

“I wanted you to come by my trailer tonight,” Eddie said, and you smiled, but upset you had to decline his suggestion. “But it’s okay. I’m going to pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”

“If Sister Josie sees you, she will report you to my parents,” you warned, and he only barked a laugh, throwing his head back. “I do not want to be sent to a camp because I was caught with you, Eds.”

“If your parents did that, I’d kidnap you,” Eddie stated, and you rolled your eyes, shooting a look at the church’s doors, eyes retreating back into his shortly after. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can do something fun.”

You raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Anything you wanted,” Eddie promised, giving your chin a soft pinch. “Be good for me, yeah?”

You hummed, and nodded. “Bye, Eds,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he watched you walk all the way back into the church.

You hurried back to your row, perching yourself back in between your parents.

“Feel better?” Your mother asked.

You inhaled sharply. “Much better.”

Your fork poked at the vegetables that sat on your dinner plate, your eyes boring into it. It was always quiet on Sunday dinners, and you never said anything, unless your parents did.

Your mother poured herself another glass of red wine, and your father glanced at you, then his wife. “Got another report today about that Munson boy,” your father cracked the perfect quiet, and was visibly angered. “He’s been seen graffiting near Lovers Lake.”

“And who is reporting that?” Your mother questioned, sipping her beverage.

“Probably that ass kisser, Jason,” you mumbled, and your father slammed his hands down on the table.

“LANGUAGE!” Your father bellowed, and you dropped your fork onto your plate, slouching back into your chair. “Jason is a good boy. A good son of the Lord, and that’s the kind of guy you need in your life.”

“Jason literally tried to kiss me at the eighth grade school dance,” you recalled, scoffing. “Without my consent, may I add!”

“Well you two were children then,” your mother said, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s a lovely boy. His friends are lovely too!”

You purse your lips. “His friends are dumb fucks.”

Okay, so maybe Eddie really did have a bad influence on you. Because you would never — for the love of God — curse in front of your parents, until now.

“What’s with the mouth?” Your father asked, and you glared at him. “You ought to pray tonight to the Lord tonight.”

“I’m just growing up, daddy,” you mocked, standing up from the dinner table, and threw your napkin on top of your plate. You stormed out of the dining room, straight into your bedroom, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

You dropped your body onto your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow. You wanted to scream and kick every object in your room, but refused not to do such a thing.

You were fine with laying on your bed, and smothering yourself with a pillow, until you heard gentle knocks at your window. You jolted up, your head craning toward the sound, and peeked at the window.

And you found Eddie, standing right outside your window.

You cursed under your breath, and stalked over to your window, snapping it open. Eddie smiled at the sight of you, though he could tell you were mystified by his unnoticed appearance.

“Do you want to kidnap me that badly?” You wondered, and he chuckled breathily, shrugging. “You can’t be here right now. My dad and I got into this fight.”

“About me, I suppose?” Eddie asked, allowing himself to jump into and through your bedroom window, and you didn’t stop him. “I know how your daddy likes to talk about me.”

“He said I should be with Jason, or someone like him,” you said, and he closed your bedroom window. “Because he is a son of the Lord.”

“Or the fucking Devil,” Eddie joked, and you snickered, but agreed. “I wonder what your dad would think if he knew you were with me, hm?”

“He would take his shotgun to you,” you admitted, and Eddie took a look around your bedroom. “Anyway, you can stay for a bit, but my father demands I pray for cursing.”

“Their little girl suddenly has a mouth of dirt?” Eddie teased, and you slapped his arm, which he laughed at. “Have I finally corrupted their innocent daughter?”

“Shut it, Munson,” you snapped, and he leaned against your desk, his eyes casting down at your Bible that sat on top of it.

“How about you pray right now? I won’t say a thing,” Eddie suggested, and you raised a brow, tilting your head. “You need to get it over with, anyway. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“You want to watch me pray?” You asked.

“It’d be nice, ya’know?” Eddie grinned, and he could tell you were completely gullible to what he was getting at. “Maybe I could learn a thing or two.”

You considered it, and simply agreed, walking up next to him. You grabbed your bible, and opened it up as you made your way over to your bed, kneeling at the end of it. Your knees brushed against your carpet-like flooring, looking up at your cross.

“Wait, Eds,” you paused, and he was already giving you your pink rosary. You thanked him, wrapping it around your fingers, and held it tightly in your hand.

Your cross hung right above your bed, right in the middle of your room, and your attention diverted from him, to the Bible.

Eddie simply watched and witnessed you speak and pray, and he felt sick for getting aroused to this pure sight of you, pleading for forgiveness from a man who supposedly ruled the Earth. He wanted to touch you, for his hands to memorize and caress every curve of your body.

His eyes unpeeled that baby pink tank top you wore, then went to your white, soft sweatpants. He wondered how it’d be like for you to plead and worship him in front of the Lord as he made you call him your God.

Maybe that was an awful, crude dream to play in his head, but he wanted to have your devotion turn to him, not the Lord.

The Lord couldn’t love and care for you the way he did.

Eddie went over to your bedroom door, and locked it, seeing how focused you were on the pages of pure fiction.

He kneeled behind you, and wrapped an arm around your torso, your body shuddering. He brought you closer to him, planting an innocent kiss on your shoulder.

“Eddie, I’m praying,” you pouted, setting your Bible down for a moment. “You said you wouldn’t disrupt.”

“Just keep going, love,” he mumbled, his tip of his nose brushing against your skin. “Keep praying.”

You rolled your eyes and did so, continuing to recite every word from the pages.

Eddie’s lips made their way to the nape of your neck, getting the sweet scent of your perfume. “What a good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath sending a symphony of shivers along your body. “Doing anything to stay pure and good.”

You nearly faltered, your concentration weakening. His hand trailed to your stomach, resting on your abdomen.

Eddie had touched you before, but not fully — not under your clothes. He even afforded to show you how to touch yourself, but Sister Tina from your school said you’d be banished to Hell for such a thing; so that set enough fear in.

Now, you craved for him to touch him. You didn’t know why in this particular moment — out of every heated, lusting moment — you wanted to feel him, to take you apart, and taint every part of your body, and brain.

You began to stutter as you spoke, Eddie’s hand crawling under your sweatpants, grazing over your clothed area. “Do you think the Lord wants me to touch you?” He taunted, and you hummed, your hands grasping harshly onto both sides of the Bible. “What do you think?”

“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out. “Eddie.”

“I want him to watch me take his devoted angel,” Eddie continued, his fingers creeping into your underwear, and your body flinched the second his fingers pressed against your bud. “Show him that he is no protector.”

You nodded, and Eddie grinned, resting his chin onto your shoulder.

You wanted Eddie. You needed Eddie.

“Keep reading, or I’ll stop,” Eddie warned, and you couldn’t hold onto a single thought as his middle finger curled into your unripe cunt. You moaned, squeezing your eyelids shut to the feeling of it. It was a single fucking finger in you, and you felt like pure bliss.

Eddie continued to pump the individual finger in you, slowly and surely as you tried to read more.

Everything was going smoothly, until a knock hit against your bedroom door.

Your father barked your name, you and Eddie freezing up. “Honey, why is your door locked?” Your father asked, shaking the doorknob. “Are you okay?”

Eddie smirked, his ring finger joining his middle, both pumping into a picked up pace.

“I–I’m praying!” You announced, trying to hold back your noises. “I wanted to pray in privacy, talk to the Lord!”

“Oh,” your father spoke from the other side of the door. “I’m glad to hear that, sweetie. I just wanted to say, you know I’m just looking out for you, right?”

Eddie’s fingers struck an unknown, but euphoric, spot in you, and you choked down a loud moan. “Yeah, daddy! I know that,” you responded, throwing your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder, and the Bible collapsed to the side of you.

Eddie chuckled quietly, using his free hand to wrap onto your throat. “What a filthy girl,” he whispered into your ear, grasping onto your neck.

“There’s bad guys out there, like Eddie Munson,” your father said, and Eddie wanted to bark a laugh. “If you were to be with a boy like that, I’d lose it. Boys only want one thing, and you know that.”

Another noise was lodged in your throat, Eddie having to squeeze your throat as a warning.

“I know, I know! Now, can I continue praying, please?” You asked, and Eddie’s finger shoved into you faster, and harder.

“Yes, of course! Your mother and I are heading to the Martins for a bit,” he acknowledged, and you had to slam your own hand over your mouth. “We should be back no later than 11. Be good!”

You kept your hand over your mouth until you heard the front door slam shut, and the second they did, you freed all your noises. Your chest heaved, your body becoming pudding against Eddie’s.

A hot sensation hit your stomach, and you found pleasure in it. It was an unfamiliar, enjoyable feeling. Your thighs trembled, and Eddie took a quick note to it, noticing how you were barely adjusting to this. “Are you going to cum?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with confusion.

“Cum?” You repeated.

“Does it feel like your stomach is on fire?” Eddie asked, his fingers making themselves deeper into your core, and you nodded. “That means you’re at your climax, love. That you are going to cum. It’s very normal.”

You still had a lot to learn, and Eddie was glad enough to teach you it all.

“Just let it go, sweetheart. Let it be free,” he cooed, and you hummed, your body convulsing the second your climax poured out of you, nearly dropping to the floor. He kept you up and close to him, and you panted, swallowing thickly.

Eddie’s fingers disappeared out of you, removing his hand completely from you. He placed his two fingers in his mouth, getting the sweet taste of you, and nearly moaned. “You taste fucking divine.”

You blushed, and eyed your Bible, picking it up. “I think I got enough forgiveness,” you joked, and Eddie hummed, helping you stand up with him. “I just…”

“Hm?” Eddie wondered, taking the Bible from you, and rested it on your desk. “What is it, sweet girl?”

“I want,” your voice quavered, your head hanging low in embarrassment. “I want more.”

Eddie placed his finger under your chin, bringing your head up to look him directly in the eye. “You want more? You have to be more specific, love,” Eddie mused, and you whimpered. “Use your words, please.”

“I want you to touch me more,” you only knew how to say it like that. Just paraphrase it in that way. “I want you to fuck me?”

“Is that a question or statement?” Eddie jested, and you whined more, embarrassed. “I’m kidding, sweet girl. I know what you mean, but are you sure?”

You nodded, smiling in confidence.

Eddie tugged you closer to his body, his lips smothering yours, and his hands laid on your hips, squeezing them gently. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close to you, your body aching for him.

He led you over to your bed, sitting down onto it as you straddled his lap. Your hands cupped his cheeks, your rosary brushing against his skin, and you could feel him smile on your lips.

His lips fell off of yours, and he stripped off his upper half clothing, dropping them to your floor. Your eyes widened to the view of his body, his abs perfectly toned, and your finger drew around the tattoos he had on the left side of his chest.

“I like this tattoo,” you giggled at the Demon and spider tattoos, and he smiled, kissing the side of your head. “But I will always like your puppetmaster tattoo a lot more.”

“Gotta get you a tattoo one day,” Eddie said, and you shook your head. “Get you a pretty tattoo, just like mine, yeah?”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, and he hummed, his fingers hooking under your shirt. You let him take it off of you, undoing your bra by yourself. You hesitantly shimmed off your bra, the straps sliding down your arms, and onto your lap.

You put it on the ground with the other clothes, and you didn’t stare at Eddie as his eyes gawked at your breasts. You were insecure and worried – he was the first guy to ever see your bare body.

Panic slowly rolled in. “Is it okay? Am I okay?”

“Baby,” Eddie breathed, looking up at you, and then at your breasts. “You are so beautiful. This body, all mine to touch and mark.”

Your worries washed away, Eddie planting loving kisses on your breasts.

“Your body is fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, captivated and enthralled by your gracious beauty. “All fucking mine.” He carefully laid you on your back, on the bed, and hovered over you, his lips falling back onto yours. His body rutted against yours, hands at the waistband of your sweatpants,

“Take them off, Eds,” you breathed into the kiss, and his taste was gone for a moment as he listened, stripping off your sweatpants. You were left in your white cotton panties, and he took a second to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants, both landing on the ground.

You and Eddie were only left in your underwear, and you could feel a hard bulge brush against your inner thigh.

Oh, you thought to yourself. That.

“Are you sure you’re ready, doll?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with assuring, doe eyes, and he kissed your forehead. He reached over to his pants, grabbing his wallet from it, and pulled out a small wrapper from it.

You shivered, and your eyes bored into Eddie as he took off his boxers, and you tensed the second you glimpsed at his cock.

You were about to pray to God again, due to the overwhelmingly huge size of Eddie.

Eddie opened up the wrapper, taking out the condom, and slipped it on. You took off your panties and kicked them off, throwing your rosary too, seeing how they joined all other clothing items on the floor.

“It’s going to hurt at first; if you want me to stop, just say so,” Eddie said, and one of his hands held onto yours for comfort as his other was used to guide him into you. You could feel the head of him at your cunt, and you squeezed his hand whilst his cock made its way into you, slowly and bit by bit.

Your back arched, gasping aloud to the feeling of him fulfilling you. Eddie’s hand grasped onto your jaw, holding onto it, forcing you to hold eye contact with him. “Just take me, love,” he mused, and you whimpered in response.

You were being easily stretched and torn apart by his cock, your virtue draining out of you with every brush of him coming in and out of you. You continued to hold onto his hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand for assurance you were safe.

Eddie kept a steady, delicate pace, taking a clear eye to how you were already in shambles. He was simply dispossessing you of your longing purity, your body and devotion belonging to him now.

This was Seventh Heaven to you — this was all of the joy and exhilaration you longed for.

Your cunt adjusted to his size, and your hand let go of him, setting both of them onto his shoulders. “More, Eddie. Please,” you pleaded, and he began to drill himself deeper into you, his hands pressing onto your stomach for support.

You squealed, his eyes on the way his cock thrusted into you. Your body elevated upwards, and your glossy eyes caught a glance of the cross above your bed.

If this corruption was so cruel, so vile, why did it feel so fucking amazing?

Flares of euphoria spurred throughout your body as wanton, lewd noises elicited out of your mouth, and filled your bedroom. Embers of pure, raw desire were in Eddie’s eyes the second they fell back into yours, his breath shuddering his rib cages.

A firestorm grew in your stomach, and your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, earning a harsh moan out of him. “‘M gonna cum,” you told him, your chest falling up and down rapidly. “I need to cum, Eds.”

“What a sensitive whore you are,” he taunted, and you groaned, the fire spreading into your thighs. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for your God.”

Your lids sealed shut as your climax peaked and rushed out of you, your body moving with a hard jolt to it. Eddie nearly laughed mockingly at you, your delicate, unripe body, now sweating and shaking from sinful sex.

You barely had collected the fact Eddie referred to him as your God, but you didn’t hate it.

You liked it.

“I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth,” Eddie said, and helped you sit up as he took off the condom. “I always told you I’d find a way for you to worship me. Get on your knees, angel.”

Eddie tossed his condom into your trash bin, turning his attention back onto you.

You obeyed, and stumbled to your bedroom floor, collapsing down onto your knees. Eddie seized your rosary, and took the opportunity to tie up your wrists with the symbolized jewelry. You whined, tugging at your hostaged wrists.

“Open your mouth for me,” Eddie said, standing in front of you. Your mouth popped open, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth, creeping them to the back of your throat. You gagged the second his fingers hit your throat, your eyes watering.

You stared up at him with pure and pious eyes, that were almost daunting, too.

“How are you going to be able to take my cock, when you can barely take my fingers, angel?” He asked, and a tear trickled down your cheek. He was amused by this single tear. “You worship me?”

You nodded as his fingers left your mouth, his knuckles brushing along your cheek. “Yes, I worship you. Only you,” you assured, giving the edge of his palm a delicate, small kiss. “You’re my religion.”

He chuckled. “Such a good little thing you are.”

Eddie’s fingers curled into your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. His hips pushed forward, his cock stuffing your opened mouth.

You remembered your friend told you about blowjobs — that you make sure your teeth don’t touch, or it makes it unpleasant. Your friend wasn’t as faithful or pure as you were, only going to Catechism to please her parents.

Eddie’s cock continuously hit the back of your throat, drawing inchorenet gargles from you as tears lined at the brim of your eyes. Your throat was brutalized, yet you soaked into the pain of it, taking pleasure in every second of it.

Your eyes rolled back the deeper his cock went, his teeth gritting together, and moaned your name like a mantra.

Eddie’s head fell back, his hips snapping into your face, and you gurgled, trying your best to breathe out of your nostrils. “Shit, shit, I’m close,” he told you, and that was the only warning you were given, nothing else. “Keep your mouth steady and open for your God, baby.”

His climax flooded into your mouth, your tongue getting a salty taste of his high, and he pushed his cock out of your mouth. He tried to catch his breath, sweat beading at his forehead and body, his fingers unhooking from your hair.

“Let me see, doll,” Eddie said, and you happily showed him the way his cum sat on your tongue. “Mhm, that’s a good girl. Swallow it.”

You closed your mouth, taking it all down at once, and he kissed the top of your head. He unknotted the rosary, and your wrists were glad to be free.

Eddie sat the jewelry on your bed stand, and helped you up, sitting you down on your bed afterwards. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He panicked, and you shook your head, a few strands of your hair matted to your teary, sweating cheeks.

“Did I do okay?” You asked, and he frowned, cupping your cheeks, caressing them lovingly with his thumbs.

“You were wonderful, sweet girl. So good,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and dressed. You still have that project.”

You groaned, barely remembering it. “Oh fuck!”

[congratzams]

𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖚𝖇𝖚𝖘

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: dexter morgan

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: dexter had to save his own skin and you had a little bit too much of faith in him; fake priest!dex

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: church related themes, mentions of somnophilia

𝐀/𝐍: bear with me, I've only watched one season of Dexter but I've fallen hard for the character and there's so little content of him 😭 also, I'm far from religious so the details might be a bit off for those who attend the church

Dexter only became a priest because he had to; his vigilante activities were discovered and he had to save his own skin. At that moment, a small town far away from Miami seemed like a good choice. 

Oh, and how people were too trusting of him once he stepped into the unknown territory. A couple smiles here and there, some occasional name-drops and all was good. Soon enough, he became a wolf in sheep's clothing. Who would dare to suspect a priest?

Sure, he had to do his own research before taking the role, but it was not as difficult as other things he had to learn. Camouflage was one of the many skills he had mastered in order to survive.

But you, oh, sweet and ingenue you. You had to show up and put his plans to the test. You always stayed behind after masses, even during late hours, seeking advice from his priest persona.

And it almost seemed like you wanted Dex to look at your manicured fingers toying with the hem of your pastel pink skirt. Maybe you weren't so naïve as he initially thought.

But the suspicion could've been only a part of Dexter's own twisted thoughts, stirring something up in the deepest parts of his mind. That way, your next encounters could've been summarized as his eyes marked by a new and dark glisten, especially whenever he looked at you during the mass or when you got too close to him while sharing your worries. Dexter certainly did not put the ‘Holy’ in ‘Holy Father'.

Soon, your confessions began to approach this certain ‘warm’ feeling in your womb and impure thoughts and impulses — which you believed to be the devil's work. Dexter couldn't dare to risk his disguise and have you all for himself, even when there was a suffocated plea written all over your eyes and your will seemed to weaken the more you asked for his help.

So he requested you knelt in front of him and confessed to him all of your sins. To see your chest heaving with every word you said, oh, he felt like the Lord himself.

He could also see with such clarity the ones involved in your fantasies: a certain red-headed that forces the lady to succumb to lust. And to that, his eyes stared deep into yours, locked in place, as if you were his new prey.

“Father, I think I may be under the influence of an incubus…”

Dexter, as the priest, seemed to give it a thought. “Do you feel like this creature has sexual intercourse while you sleep?”

You shook your head before his voice reached your ears, now deep and full of maliciousness. Maybe his dark passenger should pay you a visit.

“Would you like it to?”

[kiko---random-stuff-probably]

Chokehold

Set soon after kallamar's ascension.

Only a few weeks passed from Asturas's death and Kallamar's coronation, and things were going relatively okay in the new cult of the blue crown.

Astaroth, on the other hand, was every day less happy with his new role as a follower of the squid; not because of what he had to do (taking care of the temple, organizing books and messages, things like that), but because of who he was serving.

That day, he was busy walking around the hallway that connected the temple and the private quarters where his god resided when staying in anchordeep and where he stored  in various tresuresies important tomes or trophies.

- Astaroth! My favourite follower!- speak of the devil.

The god approached him with a smile; he was towering over him, due to the crowns influence, but was still smaller than most other gods. 

- My lord- the jellyfish's voice was filled with venom. This didn't bother the squid, that quickly shifted to his mortal form, still a little taller than the other.

- About that reward for your stellar behaviour...-

- Pass- Astaroth did his best to not growl at the god; Kallamar already offered him once, exactly like he did with good part of his followers, granting them a gift or favor they asked for; some requested something precious, a lot asked for blessings, and Astaroth was the only stubborn one who refused the offer.

He may be living under that thing, but he was not going to be bribed.

- But you must have something you wish for! Anything, at all!- the god kept talking, and Astaroth crossed his arms

- From you? No, nothing.- 

Kallamar didn't seem to notice his hostility

- Really? I doubt it.- Pestilence started walking in a circle around the other, and Astaroth couldn't help but follow him with his eyes - Actually, I'm sure I can guess your deepest desire.-

- Really? Enlighten me, than.- 

The god stopped in front of him, still smiling, but there was nothing reassuring in that expression - You want me dead, don't you?- this gained him a bitter grin from the other.

- Cunning as ever. Is that a problem?- 

At his sarcastic comment, Kallamar chuckled. 

- Not at all! Actualy, it makes everything easier!-

The jellyfish rolled his eyes. He assumed the god  was going to sacrifice him the day he got bored with toying with him as a payback for anything he may had say when they both were in Asturas's court (he really regretted call the guy he could not know was going to kill a god "a greedy harlot"), but not that soon.

- Why, are you planning a suicide? How generous- he murmured, annoyed and hoping that that farce was going to drop soon.

- Even better!- the god grabbed one of his wrist, and bringed his hands to his own neck, tilting his head slightly so that astaroth could easily grab his throat - I'm going to let you kill me, just a little.-

Astaroth's eyes widened with shock, as the god kept staring at him, enjoying how the ex guard was reacting exactly as he thought he would, and grinned enjoying his own twisted power play. 

When he talked, he didn't bother with trying to hide his mocking tone.

- Obviously, you will not be able to kill me-

you wil never get rid of me

- and the second I will actually start to feel in danger I will stop this-

I can rip your arms off and leave you to bleed

- buuut~ I think you get to at least have the chance to know what it woud be like-

only because I'm letting you, only because I want you to understand how small you are

-it's not like you will ever be able to hurt me, after all. You're not that strong.-

you are nothing compared to me

- And i understand why you despise me, almost as much as you despise yourself for kneeling when I offered you indoctrination or an honorable death.-

you are in this situation because of your own choices

- Still, your loyalty has been admirable! You really deserve some kind of reward!-

who's the traitorous piece of shit now

-Unless you want something different.-

let's see how far you can go.

Astaroth was not stupid, and knew that all he was doing was just playing the role Kallamar gave him as he slowly closed both of his hands around the gods neck.

He knew he had no control in that situation, but still.

He was between his hand. He could feel his heartbeat as he tightened his own grip.

The god let out a small gasp for air, instictively, and kept grinning.

Astaroth pushed the god against the nearest wall, gaining another small sound.

He didn't care if it was just an act to mock him.

It sounded divine. And he wanted to hear more.

So, apparently, Astaroth went way more far than both of them could had expected.

Way more far and problably in the least expected direction. 

The ex guard was staring at the ceiling of Kallamar's bedroom, laying on his bed, as the god was resting with his eyes closed besides him, covered in nothing but the blanket and a now ripped once fancy shirt and bitemarks.

Astaroth, on the other hand, had now his back filled with scratches that got healed as soon as they got added, and was now reconsidering all of his life choices.

He betrayed his ex god as soon as the guy bited the dust to survive, and that was one thing.

He then tried to strangle his new god, that was borderline heretical.

And then he kissed said god in the middle of his murder attempt. He still hated him, though. He did it just for... for the adrenaline of the moment? No, it didn't make sense. Actually, no reason was good enough for what the hell he did. He was so going to get crucified.

- I suppose you have things to do?- the god sounded tired and honestly that was fair, considering everything.

Astaroth immediatly grabbed his robes, refusing to look in the general direction of the squid, dressing up as quickly as he could and left, mumbling apologies mostly due to embarassment than anything else.

Kallamar opened his eyes omce the other left, and stared at one of his hands, casting a green mist.

You unlocked a new curse outside of a sermon? 

The squid almost jumped, glancing in the direction of the blue crown, who got covered by his cloack in the mid of what he could call a strategic change of plan.

- Oh right you're still here.-

The crown seemed to ignore him

Amazing, really. Somehow he managed to generate as much devotion as a temple full of people.

- Most of them aren't actually devoted to me and you know that. Still, it is amazing.- the god smile widened - Perfect, even. I get to not only toy with him, but also a useful powerbank!- he chuckled - Fear, devotion, hate... you feed of on anything akin to obsession, I assume?-

In a way. But I think you should be more careful around him.

- Careful? Please, he could never be a danger to me! He was litterally dancing on my hand the entire time!-

He wasn't in control, but neither were you, crown bearer.

- What are you talking about?-

Do not play dumb. I can feel when you use your powers, and that guy walked out covered in so many blessing you may as well make him immune to every disease ever.

- Alright, maybe my powers went a little out of my control...-

Then why didn't you curse him?

- Pardon?-

You heard me. Why did he walked away without any deadly disease? Causing harm to others comes natural to you, yet for some reason it seems that your inclinations were more benevolent with that... heretic.

Kallamar stayed silent for a second.

- I want him to live because a corpse would be a really boring company. Nothing more.-

Something akin to a soft spot, then?

Kallamar threw a pillow at the crown.

[anna-the-undertaker]

Prideful Devotion

- Part 1 - At the request of @dark-lady15, @aeongiies and @lovelyfriedcomputer, here is part 2 of Prides Gift. And I want to give special thanks to @aeongiies for their help in choosing the direction this will take :) Thank you for enduring my questions. This turned out to be more soft than spicy though - Song Inspiration: The Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars - I will be posting a poll for you guys to vote for which brother I do next right after posting this so GO VOTE.

In the hallowed depths of the Devildom, where shadows danced and the air crackled with an electric fervor, Lucifer gazed upon the human before him, whose pride and resilience had caught his attention once again and this time had stolen his breath.

It was undeniable, radiant, and untempered as they navigated through the introductions and, as expected of anyone who was under the influence of his power, they were quick to understand everything they were told. They carried themself with a grace that echoed his own poise.

Then the dreaded question that was on everyone's minds was asked.

Diavolo, being inquisitive as ever, couldn't resist any longer, "How do you and Lucifer know each other?"

Lucifer saw the others perk up with interest making him scowl and huff a breath of exasperation. This seriously couldn't wait? Before he could say so, MC spoke.

"With all due respect, Lord Diavolo, that is a personal matter."

Diavolo smiled, one that did not take no for an answer, "Well, hopefully you will make an exception for me."

MC smiled back, "Of course, just not here. I would prefer to speak of it in private with Mr. Morningstar present as it is not just my business, if that's alright?"

"Just call me Lucifer." Lucifer stated.

"If you insist."

The demon Lords boisterous laughter rang through the room, "Very well. We may discuss it later. For now we need to have you shown to the House of Lamentation, where you will be staying for the duration of your time here."

Lucifer met MCs eyes, "You will need someone to look after you, and I had intended for my brother, Mammon, to do so. He is the Avatar of Greed and...how should I put it...? Oh well, you'll understand soon enough. But given the circumstances, I will assume that role."

He pulled a D.D.D. out of his pocket and placed it in MCs hands, "Here, take this. It's a lot like the cell phones from your world. It will be yours to use as long as you are here. Now, I'd like you to call Mammon with it."

He knew that his brother wouldn't answer if he saw it was him so he was going to use this to his advantage.

They listened as the phone rang before Mammon answered with little hesitation as Lucifer had expected, "Yoooo."

"Hello, Mammon." Mc replied, their voice cool and collected.

Mammon was silent for half a second, "Who the hell are ya?"

"I'm MC, the new human exchange student."

"Whaaa? Geez, I was gettin' all chilly here thinkin' it was Lucifer again. Ya should've told me right away. So what business does a human got with THE Mammon?"

MC turned her gaze to Lucifer, taking in his expression.

"Lucifer asked me to call you. It would seem you need to rectify whatever you did before he gets to you."

"Pfffft, whatever. Ya think THE Mammon would listen to ya just 'cause you're tryin' to scare me with that name?"

The Avatar of Pride extended his hand for the phone letting MC set it in his palm, "You've got 10 seconds to get home... 9... 8..."

Mammon shrieked in fright, "YESSIR!" and hung up in an instant.

"Thank you," he said as he handed the phone back then turned to Diavolo. "I will take them to the House of Lamentation to get them settled then we will meet you at the castle to explain."

The demon lord nodded in acknowledgement so they left.

Time passed quickly after that and MC had done exceptionally well in the program. They had grown close with each of his brothers as well and had an uncanny ability to make them behave, already having formed pacts with Mammon, Levi, and Beel. He had a deep suspicion they had been sneaking to the attic but had no evidence to prove it, making him even more suspicious of their intentions behind the pacts.

MC had began helping him with his work and became his unofficial assistant, forcing them to spend much more time together. Idle conversation turned to flirting, with him unintentionally flirting back. They had a charm that was hard to ignore and he found that he would look forward to the afternoons they would spend together listening to his records as they worked. His pride would get in the way, however, forcing him to step back from them even though he ached to do the opposite. But MC stood their ground and took it in stride, determined to become closer to him.

Throughout that time he had been able to get to know them better, and found he had the urge to protect them and keep them to himself despite some of the mishaps along the way, even if he would never admit it.

He had no one to blame but himself for MCs courageousness after all. The small amount of power he had granted them so long ago had influenced them to the point where being told what to do or being told they couldn't do something affected their pride, urging them to do just that. Although, he was unsure how much was his influence and how much was purely MCs personality.

Some time later, at Diavolo's castle, attending the Ball the demon lord had thrown in celebration of the exchange program, Lucifer watched MC as they made conversation with the guests.

Amidst the flickering lights that painted the ballroom in deep shades of gold, MCs mortal form, clad in garments befitting nobility, seemed delicate compared to his. Yet an unyielding strength emanated from them, a beacon that drew the Prince of Darkness near.

He asked them to dance and he could hear their heart pounding in rhythm with the infernal symphony that echoed around them.

Part of him wanted them to keep looking at him with the look of adoration in their eyes in that moment, but the other was too focused on his caution.

As they danced, he threatened them, instead of explaining the dangers of going to the attic, not knowing that hurting them the way he had would leave him with regret and guilt.

They held his gaze even though his grip was painfully tight. Even as their face twisted with pain they stood their ground. A quality that was as endearing as it was irritating.

Their dance ended and they went their separate ways, but his eyes stayed on them for the remainder of the night.

As time continued to pass, MC had formed pacts with Amso and Satan. He admired their drive and dedication, but he still held them with an air of caution.

They came to his study late one afternoon and knocked on the door, "Lucifer, may I come in?"

"What is it, MC?" he called to them without looking up from his paperwork.

They stepped inside, "I have something for you."

That made him stop what he was doing and look up at them and the vinyl record in their hands in surprise.

At his silence they continued, laying the record on his desk, "It took some time and effort to have this made, and I may have had a bit of help from Levi and Mammon, but it's finally here. After our first meeting and making our deal, my life began to get better and my career skyrocketed. When I became of age, I was able to seize custody of my siblings and give them a better life outside of our parents abuse. They are grown now and living wonderful lives. In wake of all of that, I wanted to give you proper thanks, but I had no idea if I would ever see you again so I wrote this in the hope that one day you would hear it. You had no reason to help me and even if helping me had only been for your own benefit, I am still grateful."

They left before he could respond and his eyes fell to the record. He lifted it with gentle fingers, appraising the the bold letters on the cover that read: The Memory of Pride.

He rose from his chair and moved to his record player, carefully setting the disc upon it and let it play.

The music enveloped him. Each note pulling on his heart and his pride swelled to new heights knowing that this music was written specifically for him. He could feel the emotion that had been woven into it: gratefulness, remembrance, pride. He could feel how genuine it was. He had not thought that one small, spur of the moment, action would produce this.

The feelings brewing in his heart grew, and he let the record play for the rest of the night, basking in the warmth that coursed through his veins.

But then, everything came crashing down around him in what felt like an instant. His vision became clouded with red at the sight of MCs mangled body - a mere human whose fate had become intertwined with he and his brothers conflicts.

If only they had listened to him. If only he had told them the whole truth, his pride be damned. He knew they would have understood, but he didn't. They didn't listen to him or heed his threats and now look at what has happened.

An anger he had not felt since the celestial war began to build within him. He could barely hear his brothers pleas' anymore.

A sinister aura hung heavy as he seethed. His eyes burned with a malevolent fire as he confronted his brother.

"How dare you," Lucifer hissed, his voice laced with venom. "MC was under my protection, under our family's protection. They were mine to guide, not yours to extinguish!"

Belphie only laughed making Lucifer's anger flare, his true form unfurling in a dark display of power as he stepped between MC and his younger brother. His features contorted with a mix of grief and unbridled rage, casting an eerie glow upon his chiseled face.

"Yes... Yes! Perfect! That's exactly the look I was hoping to see on your face, Lucifer!" the youngest laughed, "And this little pendant of theirs? The all powerful Lucifer couldn't have possibly given to them. So let's just get rid of it."

He crushed it in his fist and let the shattered pieces crumble to the floor.

"You dare to decide the fate of those under my care? You have defied me, Belphie, you have defied Lord Diavolo, and this transgression will not go unpunished." Lucifer's voice carried a chilling resolve.

But before he could follow through with it, MC reappeared. Their countenance alive and vibrant. His eyes that had been filled with fury and grief, now shimmered with a glimmer of hope and disbelief. The weight of despair that had burdened his heart lifted, replaced with an overwhelming sense of relief.

Everything that happened after was a blur: revealing Lilith's true fate, discovering that MC was her descendant, and the guilt of withholding it all from his brothers.

The tension took awhile to dissipate and with MCs urging his brothers began to forgive him. MC was still wary of Belphie, and with good reason, but they eventually met halfway and his younger brother made a pact with them.

The end of their year had arrived and Lucifer had finally found a name for the feeling in his chest. The reason for his unconscious need to protect them and keep them near. Love; something he didn't think he'd feel for anyone, especially a human.

They came to his study to discuss everything for their return to the human realm and the thought of them being lost to him ate at his heart.

"Have you done all you set out to do here in the Devildom? No unfinished business? No loose ends?" He asked.

A downcast expression formed on their face, "I believe so, yes. But Belphie did break my pendant. I can't replace that." A chuckle slipped past their lips. "Now that I think about it, I've yet to make a pact with you."

"A pact, you say?" He began, his face going blank. "I see. You've made pacts with all of my brothers, which just leaves me... Do you really want to make a pact with me? Truly? I don't know how my brothers felt about making pacts with you, but I am more than a name to be crossed off of your list. I can't have you lumping me together with everyone else. That won't do."

His demon form emerged and MC didn't flinch.

"Seriously, Lucifer? From the very beginning you have been held in a different light from the others. And you should know by now that this form of intimidation from you doesn't work on me anymore." They crossed their arms defiantly, head tilted to hold his gaze.

Lucifer huffed out a breath, "That defiance... I've always found that aspect of you irritating. But as irritating as it is, it's even more endearing."

As they stood face to face, Lucifer's lips curved into a smirk, a blend of mischief and desire. The air grew heavy with anticipation, the unspoken tension between them filling the void. In the depths of his ruby eyes, he let MC glimpse a tumultuous sea of emotions - a yearning.

In a gesture both daring and vulnerable, Lucifer extended a hand, his touch gentle as a whispered promise, "If you are amenable, I am willing to offer you a deal."

MC, emboldened by an inexplicable connection, accepted the invitation, their fingers intertwining. They looked up to him with heavily lidded eyes, their voice coming out a low purr, "What would this deal cost me?"

He pulled them forward, wrapping his other arm around them for his hand to rest against their lower back, and a surge of raw energy coursed through their vines, their union an alchemy of darkness and light, binding them in an embrace, a pseudo waltz of undiscovered pleasure.

His lips came to rest against the shell of their ear as he answered, "Everything. You will belong to me and me alone." He moved to face them, their lips mere centimeters away from each other. "So, what will it be? Do you wish to make a pact with me, MC?"

MC searched his face, but there was no hesitation in their reply, a whispered, "Yes."

His grip tightened, and his touch sent shivers of anticipation down their spine, MC felt the weight of centuries-old burdens slacken just a little. But in the warmth of his presence, they discovered solace and a love that could not be contained.

His voice, a velvet caress, spilled forth words of vulnerability and truth, a confession that echoed through the chambers of their intertwined souls, "I love you."

Lost in the labyrinth of their emotions, time ceased to exist as they moved closer, their breaths mingling in the sacred space between them. With a tempestuous gaze, Lucifer's hand cradled MC's face, his touch both fiery and tender, akin to the paradox of his being. Their lips met in a union both fierce and passionate, a melding of opposing forces - darkness and light, damnation and salvation.

"We are heading straight to my room," He breathed as he pulled away, a fire in his eyes that would not be put out. "You're going to spend your last night in the Devildom there, together with me... all night long until the break of dawn. I'm not letting anyone else have you now... You're mine."

In those final, eternal hours, their embrace transcended the mortal realm, and they soared through celestial planes, leaving behind the trappings of their troubled pasts. Their love, fueled by shared desire and pride, became an inferno that engulfed them completely, igniting a flame that would burn forever more.

In the embrace of the Prince of Darkness, MC found freedom - the freedom to embrace their flaws, their desires, and the capacity to love him unapologetically. And as they danced on the precipice of darkness, Lucifer and MC embarked on a new journey, their love a testament to the power of connection, and a bond that defied the boundaries of Heaven and Hell.

[artficlly]

The horselands is so intriguing, and devil on my back pretty please. I absolutely love western AU’s ❤️❤️

the horselords!!!!! omg the title might change but surprise!! it's my super secret project (lol not really) that i've been pre-writing. it's basically the horselords of naraik (an older, discontinued fic of mine) but the plot is COMPLETELY different. i actually had to change it from a x reader to an x oc just to make it a bit easier for me to write.

the setting is more mediaeval fantasy, with celtic/viking influence. it would take me so long to explain the plot details, locations, characters etc so here is the blurb (may change).

In a world where loyalty is a commodity and power is bought with blood, Isolde finds herself at the centre of a delicate balance between duty and desire. Trained within the sacred halls of Rotsál Manor, she has been moulded into the perfect instrument of The Order—obedient, skilled, and unwavering in her devotion.  When Father Dreykov, a man who has shaped her future from the moment she arrived, offers her an unorthodox mission. She must marry the Thegn Bucky of House Barnes, a fearsome Naraki Warlord known as the Winter Soldier, and sway him to serve The Order. This task will demand the mastery of every lesson she has ever learned—manipulation, seduction, and sacrifice. But even as The Order and the elders expect Isolde’s success, she grapples with her identity. Is she a mere tool of The Order, destined to be forgotten in the annals of history? Or can she carve out a place for herself in the world of the Naraki Horselords, where power shifts with the wind and the line between friend and foe is razor-thin?

i've written around 10k words so far. it's going to be a slow burn so it'll take me awhile to write, i've felt a bit conflicted writing it because true to the original horselords series it has some pretty triggering themes. if you didn't pick it up, rotsál manor is supposed to be the red room, and Isolde is a widow. Nat and Yelena are both big parts of this story. i've always been really enamoured with the red room and have kind of built my own headcanons around it. so rotsál is a really exaggerated version of the red room, with culty/religious vibes.

heres a snippet!

“Have you heard of the Vetur Soldat? Or some call him the White Wolf.” “The Winter Solider? Yes, he is a Warlord and Thegn. He answers only to the Ealdorman of the Naraki—Steve of House Rogers.” “His true name is Bucky. Bucky of House Barnes. He is the commander of Lord Steve’s armies. It is said that the Ealdorman Wulfric and his men refused to march against an army quarter their size because they knew Lord Bucky led it. They respect him, but they also fear him.” “The Order wishes him executed?” Isolde queried and the man barked out a laugh. “No, dear child.” He cleared his throat, palm coming to rub his chest. “The Order wishes you to marry him.” “Marry him…?” “I did warn you this assignment would require a certain finesse, if you fear you are unable to go through with this task, I can find another—” “No. I can do it.” “You are sure?” “Yes. Apologies Father, this task is rather unorthodox—” “I understand. It is a daunting commitment. Your duty will be to keep the Lord happy, and to always guide him towards the path of The Order. If the Naraki marry one of our own, they will be obliged to work with us. The Naraki have strong beliefs in bloodlines and family.” “You believe he will listen to my advice and guidance?” “You will make him listen.” Father Drekov asserted. “There is a fragile peace that encompasses our world and that peace must hold. It is our duty to ensure that it does, and The Order believe that the Horselords are intrinsically tied to our vision of a complete world. One without war, needless death and suffering.” “This marriage… will I ever be able to return home? Will I ever see Rotsál Manor again?” “In time, I imagine you will. The mission will be long, but if you have faith and are dedicated… you will be rewarded for your sacrifice. If it is any comfort to you… Warlords and Naraki Swordmen are not known to live long lives, they live for the thrill of battle and a warrior's death.” “And this Warlord, this Lord Bucky of House Barnes, he will accept me as a wife?” “Of course, why would he not?” Isolde made a face before she could think, and the Father chuckled at her hesitant expression. Isolde knew she was one of Father Drekov’s best pupils, he repeated it to anyone who cared to listen—but there was always a gnawing feeling that she was an imposter. Isolde was aware of her skill, she had always flourished during her classes, but a part of her often worried if she was truly worthy. She had not yet proven herself in the field—maybe all her achievements so far were luck? Would a Naraki Horselord not take one look at a Sister such as Natasha, and desire her instead? She was beautiful, with her fiery-red hair and fierce features, her body lean and tall. Or there was Yelena, a softer beauty but determined and spirited nonetheless.  Would Isolde truly live up to the standards and expectations laid upon her shoulders? “The Naraki… they are simple men.” Father Dreykov crept closer, leaning in as he inspected her face closely with a sly amusement. “If you can pleasure him, as any good wife should, he will be easily won over.” Isolde eyes locked onto the floor, a small shudder running down her spine as the Father’s breath fanned across her cheek. His hand raised, a slow, hesitant finger ghosting along her jawline.  “You do remember all that we have taught you?” He asked, voice low as a whisper.

--

devil on my back is the sequel to me & the devil!! i've been sitting on this wip for like a year now, i literally just have to write one last scene and it's ready. there will also be a third part called the devil's resting place!! heres a snippet from devil on my back, though it might be up for change / editing later.

“What do you want me to do, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, his voice lower than normal. You can feel the vowels as they rumble in his chest, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. “I have apologised, and if you want me to apologise every day, I will. What I can’t do is kill my friends, what I can’t do is take you back to that damn saloon. You think after everythin’ you told me about those bad men, I would let ya go back? Nah, sweetheart. That ain’t how it works.”  “You say that like you wouldn’t have left me there if Stark hadn’t been hurt.” You snarl at him, and the outlaw visibly rolls his eyes.  “What do ya want me to do? Tell me. You want me to get on my knees and beg for you?” He asks, his words grinding out in frustration.  “I want…” You begin, but pause. Did you want to sob, scream, shoot the vicious outlaws, flee, or go back to that depraved saloon? Did you want to punish Bucky for what he had done? There was so much anger inside of you, yet sometimes you felt it had no purpose at all. Sometimes all you wanted was to be held, to have something to fill the emptiness inside of you. Bucky hadn’t killed Charlotte; Parker had. Yet could you forgive him for standing by and following orders mindlessly?   You couldn’t find the words, instead stalling with a scowl as your levels of frustration rose. You so desperately wanted something to make this all better, but you were unsure if you would ever know what it was until after it happened. You blink back tears, teeth grinding as you shift in place, thwarted for the moment.  “God, I ain’t never seen you like this…” Bucky speaks into the tense silence, his hand reaching to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking over the skin. “So riled up, it’s…” “And what do you want me to be like?” You gaze up at him with a hard look, your voice close to a hiss. “Ya want me to be a sweet, docile lady, a whore that opens her legs at your command?” You draw your face closer to his, watching as his pupils dilate, jaw muscles tensing beneath your gaze. “You’re a bastard, a sick, twisted bastard. I want back the man I first met – the one who would tell me sad stories and stack double my rate on the dresser. I want the man who was kind and gentle and who would protect me instead of hurtin’ me.” Bucky’s thumb traces along your lower lip; a shudder runs down your spine, yet you do not pull away.  “I can be that for you, darlin’. If you give me the chance.” Bucky whispers; his voice is guttural and strained. Your palm comes to rest on his chest, and the muscles beneath twitch under your touch. With heavy-lidded eyes, you feel the energy wash off him in waves, pent-up and ravenous.  His large hands found your waist, and for a moment, there were no thoughts, no emptiness, and no anger. There was only him, his hot breath, and his hands against the fabric of your dress. Selfishly, for a moment, you forget all that has happened.  Only as Bucky’s head dips in a desperate plea to capture his lips with yours do you react, using your palm to push yourself free from his touch. Bucky pants, as if wounded, and you stalk back a few paces.  There was a dangerous line between hatred and pleasure, and you were deathly aware of how closely you toed it. You could not let what had happened between you or speculation about what it could have become blind you. You realized that you were grieving not only those you had lost, but also those who might have been. You mourned who Bucky could have been to you; you mourned the outlaw you met that first day. But the worst part was that, as much as you grieved, he was never real in the first place. Now, there was only the present, and you knew if you were to survive, you would have to grow a thicker skin.  “I don’t forgive you.” You mutter bitterly and are met with an irritated growl. “I didn’t expect anythin’ different.”

[bylagunabay]

Prophecy for the End Time POPE LEO XIII’S PRAYER TO ST. MICHAEL IS A PROPHECY OF THE FUTURE APOSTASY IN ROME (1-min. read) 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐭. 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬. 𝐈𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝟑𝟎𝟎 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲. Pope Leo XIII’s Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel is prophetic. Composed in 1898 and then modified, Pope Leo XIII’s Original Prayer to St. Michael is relevant to the prevailing confusion in the Catholic Church. On 25TH of September 1898, following his morning Mass, Pope Leo XIII collapsed in shock. Those in attendance thought that he was dead. After regaining consciousness, Pope Leo described a frightful conversation that he heard coming from near the Tabernacle. The conversation consisted of two voices: the voice which Pope Leo XIII clearly understood to be the voice of Jesus Christ and that of the Devil. The Devil boasted that he could destroy the Church, if he were granted 100 years to carry out his plan. The Devil also asked permission for “a greater influence over those who will give themselves to my service.” To the Devil’s requests, Our Lord reportedly replied: “You will be given the time and the power.” Shaken deeply by what he had heard, Pope Leo XIII composed the Prayer to St. Michael and ordered it to be recited after all Low Masses as a protection for the Church against demonic attacks. The prayer was taken from The Raccolta of1930 by the Benziger Bros., page 125 of 187. (The Raccolta contains a large collection of prayers and pious acts that have been enriched with indulgences. The Raccolta is both a call to prayer and good works and a “how-to” manual that places those prayers and good works right at a Catholics' finger tips.) Pope Leo XIII’s longer Prayer to St. Michael also fits perfectly with Our Lady of La Salette’s famous appearance and prediction in 1846: “Rome will lose the faith and become the Seat of the Antichrist... the Church will be in eclipse.” Pope Leo’s words suggest that Antichrist himself, would set up their seat in Rome: “In the Holy Place itself, where has been set up the See of the most holy Peter… they have raised the throne of their abominable impiety…” In 1934, Pope Leo’s original prayer was changed without explanation. The key phrase referring to the apostasy in Rome (colored portion) was removed. Around the same time, the use of Pope Leo XIII’s longer Prayer to St. Michael after each Low Mass was replaced by the now famous abbreviated Prayer to St. Michael which reads: “St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; may God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.” There is nothing wrong with this prayer to St. Michael. In fact, it is powerful and efficacious. However, it’s not the longer Prayer to St. Michael that Pope Leo XIII composed. It seems that the shorter prayer is a substitute so that the faithful would be unaware of the prophetic content of the longer prayer.

[steveezekiel]

A WATCHMAN

“Now, son of man, I AM MAKING YOU A WATCHMAN for the people of Israel. Therefore, listen to what I say and warn them for me." Ezekiel 33:7 (NLT)

Being a watchman is a responsibility or an assignment or ministry which God had given to every believer in Christ Jesus. God has given the ministry of reconciliation to every Believer (2 Corinthians 5:18-20). I. We, the Believers, are to tell the world that God does not have delight in the death of the sinners. That they should forsake their Sins and come to Jesus Christ, accept His as their Lord and Saviour: "AS SURELY AS I LIVE, SAYS THE SOVEREIGN LORD, I TAKE NO PLEASURE IN THE DEATH OF WICKED PEOPLE. I ONLY WANT THEM TO TURN FROM THEIR WICKED WAYS SO THEY CAN LIVE. Turn! Turn from your wickedness, O people of Israel! Why should you die?" (Ezekiel 33:11 NLT).

"GOD WANTS ALL PEOPLE TO BE SAVED. AND HE WANTS EVERYONE TO KNOW THE TRUTH." 1 Timothy 2:4 (International Children’s Bible) READ: Acts 3:19

If you had given your life to Jesus Christ, God wants you to reconcile the sinners to Him. It is the Ministry given to every Believer in Christ Jesus: 18 NOW ALL THINGS ARE OF GOD, WHO HAS RECONCILED US TO HIMSELF THROUGH JESUS CHRIST, and HAS GIVEN US THE MINISTRY OF RECONCILIATION, 19 that is, THAT GOD WAS IN CHRIST RECONCILING THE WORLD TO HIMSELF, not imputing their trespasses to them, AND HAS COMMITTED TO US THE WORD OF RECONCILIATION. 20 Now then, WE [Believers] ARE AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST, AS THOUGH GOD WERE PLEADING THROUGH US: WE IMPLORE YOU ON CHRIST'S BEHALF, BE RECONCILED TO GOD" (2 Corinthians 5:18-20 NKJV).

If you failed to take the responsibility, the blood of the people around you would be required of you. Tell the world that God has no delight in their death.

II. To be a watchman could also mean to work in God's vineyard. What are you doing in your local church to move the work forward? In what way are you contributing to the growth of others, especially the young converts.

Attending church meetings, on Sundays and other days of the week, without doing anything, amounted to ungratefulness or ingratitude to God.

You reciprocate God's love for you by being passionate about His Kingdom, His work, and contributing to the growth of It on earth.

You can only appreciate God for the salvation of your soul by giving yourself and all you have for the expansion of God's Kingdom on the Earth.

It is service that would make you great in the Kingdom. The path to greatness in Christianity is service.

Watching through Praying.

God wants you to watch in the Prayers. Watch over your family in the place of prayers. Watch over the people under your leadership in the place of Prayer.

Wherever you find yourself, darkness should not reign there, because Believers are supposed to be the light of the world (Matthew 5:14-16).

If every Believer can pray wherever they find themselves, the operations of the dark kingdom would be retarded.

The operations of the devil, and his kingdom, is thriving because the children of God, the Believers in Christ, are not taking over wherever they find themselves.

If I may ask, What are you doing to influence other people for God? Where you live, and work, as a Believer; What influence or impact do you have on the people there?

If your presence is insignificant, It thus means your absence would mean nothing to the people there as well.

Endeavour to be radical for Jesus. Win souls through witnessing. Believers are to be His witnesses (Acts 1:8).

Influence the people, including other Believers, and live right for God. The life you live would speak or communicate the good news of Christ to the people effectively even more than what you say: "HE [Jesus] DIED FOR EVERYONE SO THAT THOSE WHO RECEIVE HIS NEW LIFE WILL NO LONGER LIVE FOR THEMSELVES. INSTEAD, THEY WILL LIVE FOR CHRIST, WHO DIED AND WAS RAISED FOR THEM" (2 Corinthians 5:15 NLT). READ: 1 Peter 4:1,2 a. Pioneer a fellowship group in your place of works. b. Raise an altar of prayers for God At the place you live.

Through these you take over the land, the place, for God. If you did it, you are shining as a light in the place: "LET YOUR LIGHT SO SHINE BEFORE MEN, THAT THEY MAY SEE YOUR GOOD WORKS AND GLORIFY YOUR FATHER IN HEAVEN" (Matthew 5:16 NKJV).

Let your presence be a threat to the devil and those who are loyal to him, his agents wherever you are.

You need to disrupt or impede the progress of the devil's work and his kingdom wherever you may find yourself.

Some so-called Believers are passive or inactive or apathetic about their faith, they do not want to be known as Believers in Christ Jesus, they even find it difficult to share their faith with others, or be identify with other Believers.

Let your identity be known through your Character, Prayer life, and witnessing, or evangelism.

Are you, as a professed Christian, comfortable, sitting with the unbelievers as they are committing Sin where you are?

If you, as a born-again Believer, can be a friend and sit comfortably with the drunkards, the alcoholics, adulterers, fornicators, liers, without any discomfort, It means something is wrong with your Christian life: "YOU ADULTERERS! DON'T YOU REALIZE THAT FRIENDSHIP WITH THE WORLD MAKES YOU AN ENEMY OF GOD? I SAY IT AGAIN: IF YOU WANT TO BE A FRIEND OF THE WORLD, YOU MAKE YOURSELF AN ENEMY OF GOD" (James 4:4 NLT). READ: 2 Corinthians 6:14-18

What do you have in common with the fornicators? What are you doing in their company? If you claimed to be truly saved, you should be uncomfortable in their midst.

God will hold you responsible for their souls, If they perish. You are a watchman, assigned to tell the people around you about the danger of hell fire. What are you doing about it?!

8 IF I ANNOUNCE THAT SOME WICKED PEOPLE ARE SURE TO DIE AND YOU FAIL TO TELL THEM TO CHANGE THEIR WAYS, THEN THEY WILL DIE IN THEIR SINS, AND I WILL HOLD YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR DEATHS. 9 BUT if you WARN THEM TO REPENT AND THEY DON'T REPENT, THEY WILL DIE IN THEIR SINS, BUT YOU WILL HAVE SAVED YOURSELF." Ezekiel 33:8,9 (NLT)

You will not be held accountable for the destruction of those you supposed to witness to, in Jesus' name.

Should there be any ailment in your body, I declare your healing now in the mighty name of Jesus Christ. Peace!

STEPS TO SALVATION

Take notice of this: IF you are yet to take the step of salvation, that is, yet to be born-again, do it now, tomorrow might be too late (2 Corinthians 6:1,2; Hebrews 3:7,8,15). a. Acknowledge that you are a sinner and confess your Sins (1 John 1:9); And ask Jesus Christ to come into your life (Revelation 3:20). b. Confess that you believe in your heart that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that you confess it with your mouth, Thus, you accept Him As your Lord and Saviour (Romans 10:9,10). c. Ask that He will write your name in the Book of Life (Philippians 4:3; Revelation 3:8).

If you took the steps As highlighted above, It means you are saved—born-again. Join a Word based church in your area and Town or city, and be part of whatever they are doing there. Peace!

[theprayerfulword]

September 20

3 John 1:11 Beloved, follow not that which is evil, but that which is good. He that doeth good is of God: but he that doeth evil hath not seen God.

1 Peter 5:8 Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.

Joshua 3:4 Then you will know which way to go, since you have never been this way before.

Isaiah 43:1 But now, this is what the Lord says—He who created you, Jacob, He who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are Mine."

Deuteronomy 28:2 All these blessings will come on you and accompany you if you obey the Lord your God:

2 Corinthians 5:9 So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please Him.

May you draw near enough to know the power of God once you have heard from afar what He has done, for then, with repentance and in submission as you walk in reverent honor to and respectful awe of God, you can dwell in Zion everlastingly with Him Who is a consuming fire. Isaiah 33

May you turn from the ways of the world and reject the wickedness of the enemy, choosing to speak what is right and walking in the way the Lord leads you, not listening to those who speak evil or gazing on the displays of the lustful, for the one whose hands are cleansed and whose heart is purified will dwell on the heights with Him Who is our eternal fortress, and Whose abundance never diminishes. Isaiah 33

May your speech and behavior reflect God's nature, even as your deeds and your thoughts reject the enemy's influence, so that you may dwell on the heights of God and take refuge in the fortress of His mountain, for your eyes will see the king in His beauty and view a land that stretches afar as your thoughts consider where the oppressors have gone. Isaiah 33

May you look upon Zion, the city of festivals, and your eyes see Jerusalem, a peaceful abode, for there the Lord will be your Mighty One, where no enemy will be found, for the Lord is your judge, your lawyer, your king – it is He who will save you. Isaiah 33

May you look into God's Word and read what is written, for it is His mouth that has spoken it and His Spirit will cause it to happen, as His Hand is stretched out to perform it – it will stand firm forever, enduring from generation to generation. Isaiah 34

May you strengthen the feeble hands and steady the knees that give way, saying to those with fearful hearts, “Be strong, do not fear; your God will come with vengeance and divine retribution to save you,” for then the land will be glad and the wilderness blossom, rejoicing greatly to see the glory of the Lord and splendor of our God, and the afflicted will be healed and worship, giving honor to the King. Isaiah 35

May you be among the redeemed and walk with the ransomed, that you may return from captivity on the highway called the Way of Holiness, for no unclean traveler will journey there and wicked fools will not go about on it, nor will any lion or ferocious beast be found there. It is only for those who walk in the way of the Lord so that you can enter Zion singing, with everlasting joy crowning your head, for gladness and joy will overtake you as sorrow and sighing flees away. Isaiah 35

May you remain silent, as the King has commanded, and give no reply when the enemy speaks to offer compromise for avoiding battle, promising benefits like God's blessings, claiming authority where he has none, and speaking of captivity and slavery as desirable. Isaiah 36

My child, give to those around you that which you have received from Me, for in yourself is found nothing commendable. But as you have found Me, you have found life and obtained favor from the Father. Let the Spirit of God write the Word of God on your heart, that it may order your steps and direct your paths, even as it is life in your mouth when you speak, and love in your hands as you minister to the needs of My people. As you accept My reproof, you will be able to walk in humility to others as My servant to those I seek. As you learn the fear of the Lord, you will begin to walk in My wisdom before men. As you study My Word to show yourself approved, gaining experiential knowledge of Me, you will receive understanding and discernment from My Spirit. Empty yourself, My precious one, for you are not bringing skills and talents to Me that I need to bolster My ratings or improve the odds in My favor. The filthy rags you hold in your hands with such pride are filled with corruption and spotted from the fleshly nature that is enmity to Me and ever seeking to pridefully resist My will. Those things that were gain to you in the world cannot pass through My cleansing fire, which prepares you for eternity, so you must count them as loss lest, if you chose to defend and protect them, you yourself suffer loss. Still yourself, My love, and kneel before Me, waiting on Me, quiet in My presence. Do not come before Me commending yourself, but let My Word dwell richly in your heart. Let this humility be the law of your life as you go about the routine of your day. Return to Me daily, openly and honestly confessing successes and failures, learning more of Me and yielding more to Me that you may glory more in Me. I have much stored up for you, My desired one, so look not on what I ask you to discard, but gaze on Me and see the love in My eyes for you; then, fear of loss will flee and dread of diminishing will disappear. You will be set free to accept all I have for you, and you will be equipped to share My life-giving love with all.

May you not use your freedom in God to indulge your sinful nature, but rather to serve others in love, thereby fulfilling the entire law. Galatians 5

May you be led by the Spirit so that you will not follow the desires of your sinful nature, which is contrary to the nature of God, and continually in conflict with it, but live by the Spirit so you will not die by the law. Galatians 5

May you keep in step with the Spirit since you live by the Spirit, having crucified your sinful nature's passions and desires, and express the fruit of the Spirit, which is love, joy peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control, which are never against the law. Galatians 5

May you rejoice in the Lord, as all the righteous do, taking refuge in Him and praising Him in the uprightness of your heart. He will hear your lament and supplication, protecting you from the enemy's threat and hiding you from the evildoer's conspiracy, as He turns their intentions against themselves and destroys them with their own weapons. Psalm 64

May you be willing to pay the price to gain God's truth, getting wisdom, discipline and understanding, keeping it close, cherishing it, and never selling or discarding it. Proverbs 23:23

[saltieststar]

I've somehow talked myself into having Wyll be a second main POV in the fic that covers the BG3 events. Gotta make up for the fact that Wyll really should have been the main character on a non-Durge run. I just think Wyll and Durge mirror each other in such interesting ways. An evil character attempting to figure out what the right thing to do is while lacking any moral compass, and a good man trying to let his moral compass guide him while fighting off the corrupting influence of the shield. I love the idea of both of them realizing that they don't need to rely on an evil source of power, that their strength is their own, and watching them choose to carve a path for themselves instead of following the one their respective fathers paved for them.

*DIA spoilers*

I'm committed to the idea of Wyll being bound to the Shield of the Hidden Lord now. The corrupting influence of the shield is subtle and not immediately obvious. The shield proved invaluable numerous times in Avernus, and it helped Wyll come to his senses about Karlach. It has an ulterior motive, of course. Having Karlach in the party ensures Zariel will continue to send devils after them, devils who may be capable of freeing Garguath. It's because Wyll possesses the shield, and it's corrupting the minds of those nearby that the druids chose to complete the rite of thorns. The voice told the little tiefling girl to steal the idol and whispered to Kagha that an example needed to be made. The shield is feeding off the fear of those around and is essentially playing the devil on everyone's shoulder. While Wyll can at first delude himself into believing that the shield can be used for good in the right hands, he's doing the right thing by keeping the shield out of the hands of those who'd use it for evil. It becomes harder to continue to do so when the corruption manifests physically (Some ridges, bumps, and prongs; claws and elongated canines; and finally, a set of horns). He's provided an easy solution, with Raphael offering to take it off his hands and reverse all those devilish traits he's acquired. If Wyll declines for the right reasons, that Raphael's hands are the precise hands he's trying to keep the shield from -he's eventually drawn to the Temple of Helm in Baldur's Gate, where he receives a vision of what to do with a shield. His arc wraps up with Helm accepting him as a true paladin, and Wyll can either decide to stay and pick back up on the path his father set or to set out on his own path.

[the-geek-librarian]

Paladin World Leader AU

Asta

The Tyrant Lord Of Overwhelming Force, Eliminating All Opposition without mercy

Yuno

The Cardinal Of Atrophy And Destruction, Quietly Influencing Everything With His Words

Mars

The Executioner Who Razes All Who Stand Before Him In Hope Of Creating True Order

Lolopecheka

The Diplomat Who Erases All Who Oppose Her And Her Allies With Horrible Hex’s

Ichika

The General Who Conquers And Unifies All Under The Tyrant With Her Dark Powers

I-

COSMIC????? BRO, WE NEED TO LET YOU COOK MORE OFTEN

I was out walking my dog when I saw this and I almost yelled, I had a vivid idea of what "Villens" world leaders would look but with this you enabled me so fucking bad, this will be the only thing I can think about for the next week and a half holy shit

Ok so I have ideas for this Au, lets say Lucius managed to paladin the WL everything goes to shit and Lucius "wins" but there is a resistants of ppl standing agents him, Asta because of his anti-magic was paladined "wrong" so he has the same beliefs as Lucius but he doesn't think Lucius is up of the task of making a peaceful world. So he frees the others and they fight against Lucius to which they ofc win

So now they are in control, more control then have ever been in. They will fix everything, gods and fait be damned. There friends and families will come to see things the way they do eventually... They just need a "gentle" push in the right direction

Also I can see that they do have devil attributes form what I can guess Lolo with Megiculas, Ichika with Lucifuges, Mars with Baals (Damantios devil), Asta dosn't have one, and Yuno may be with Lucifero but I'm not sure. Also they are definitely a lil Yandari yk as much as an elephants foot lol

[pugzman3]

So you see the news source, and that is what I'm going to say what I'm about to say.

First off, Cruz is right, it was evil; and unless you are blind, you see this becoming more open and blatant. Now, I've said many times that it was seeing this, and all the other things going on that led me to Jesus. It woke me up, and it has done so with many others.

But when I woke up, I did what we are conditioned to do, I looked for a church and I went to it.

Now many people are seeing this too. And with "conservative media" reporting on it many fail to see what else fox News has....multiple apostate "christians" getting airtime. So the people who think "this is getting nuts I better get back to God"....who do you think they are now being influenced by? The apostate evangelists.

I've said multiple times that the devil is running these churches. Do you honestly think that in the world where he is the prince of, that he will show himself on your left, without having an ambush waiting on the right? This isn't becoming blatant just because of the times. It is also because he knows he is going to send the unknowing straight into his religious corporation.

So I say this. If this is starting to wake you up, and you are realizing that Jesus is your answer, do NOT go looking for a "church that's right for you", do NOT seek your guidance from a youtube.or megachurch preacher. Do NOT.

Go get a KJV, pray to the Father for forgiveness, and pray for the Holy Spirit to guide you through His Words. If you really want to know, He will help you, but you have to want it.

Isaiah 55:6

“Seek ye the LORD while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near:” King James Version (KJV)

Matthew 7:7-8 King James Version (KJV)

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: 

For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened

[zalia]

For the OTP ask

Unoriginal and predictable for my part yes but I like seeing u enjoying the collective Blorbo so

Osiris

i am always happy to ramble about Osiris because I too am predictable XD This is also for @vallaragna who asked for Osiris as well!

favorite thing about them He cares *so much*. He is bad at showing it at times, and hides it with the veneer of arrogant narcissism, but he is so wholly dedicated to defending his people. And he has a rock solid moral core. I think with Saint being so nice and openly caring, it's easy to forget that it was Osiris who was seeing the Eliksni as more than just enemies way back before he even became Vanguard Commander and calls Saint out several times on his hatred for them. He's a good person. He's just not always a very nice one.

least favorite thing about them It's hard to think of something because even the negative parts of his personality are things that I love because they make him more interesting. I guess, we do have a joke amongst my friends which is 'But what about Osiris' needs?' because god, the man can be very self-centred and a diva, and that bleeds into any fic I write with him. He can and will make himself the centre of any narrative and from a writing perspective, it can feel very self-indulgent.

favorite line I love the line from Season of the Seraph where he snarls at Clovis to keep his damn thoughts away from Saint. It's so protective, a crack that shows us something beyond what he tries to project to the world.

brOTP I am very invested in his friendship with Lord Shaxx XD There's not a huge amount in canon, but there's such a casual vibe between them in the Devil's Ruin quest. Also we know that the Speaker suspected Shaxx of being one of Osiris' followers (and in the comic Shaxx is right there with Ikora trying to stop Osiris from getting exiled), so I figure there is some closeness there. Also love him being friends with Eris and Mara. We got a glimpse at the closeness between him and Mara in Season of the Seraph, and I really hope we get some with Eris too!

OTP Saint-14. No matter what else I write, there's always gonna be Saint in the background (even when I write things from before they meet each other). They just obviously love each other so much.

nOTP I don't really have one honestly. If something can be written well enough, I'll probably give it a chance, although I have my own specific ideas about his relationships with other people. I guess I would struggle seeing him and Ikora?

random headcanon Obvious to anyone who has read my fics, this man is autistic and really fucking tired. He also has a sweet tooth.

unpopular opinion Not something I've seen on Tumblr, but in my occasional dives into Reddit, I have seen people complain that he isn't as cool and badass as he is 'supposed to be' in the really early lore. Blah blah, depowered, blah blah, whatever. What they wanted was apparently an all-powerful asshole genius who was flawlessly 'logical' and... look, it is the same type of guy who reveres Elon Musk. But just... besides showing a complete lack of understanding of how characters have biases in how they talk about things, they seem to hate the very things that make Osiris fascinating as a character. He's deeply flawed, massively traumatised, and very emotional. Also gay. Something tells me this may be influencing certain opinions.

song i associate with them This is the question I always fear because I suck at it XD Not sure specifically for Osiris, but A Good Song Never Dies, by Saint Motel, is a great song for Guardians in general.

favorite picture of them

This concept art I adore!

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for April 19, 2024

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 14:26-27(KJV): 26 In the fear of the LORD is strong confidence: and his children shall have a place of refuge. 27 The fear of the LORD is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death. Proverbs 14:26-27(Amp): 26 In the reverent and worshipful fear of the Lord is strong confidence, and His children shall always have a place of refuge. 27 Reverent and worshipful fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, that one may avoid the snares of death.

Thought for the Day

Verse 26 - Many verses in Proverbs speak about a holy "fear of the Lord." The Amplified Bible sheds light on this phrase: "In the reverent and worshipful fear of the LORD is strong confidence." Those who reverence the Lord believe His word. We have already seen on Day 55 that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Respect and understanding of God produce a desire in us to obey Him. Keeping God's Word brings us under His protection; those who fear Him are promised a long life, strong confidence, and refuge.

Verse 27 - The worshipful fear of God is like a fountain of life. By walking in His path we avoid the traps leading to death. What is true worship? Some equate singing songs with worship. One can worship God while singing, but singing alone does not mean that one is worshipping. It is the voice of the heart that God hears, not just the song's words. The highest form of worship is obedience. God has a name for those who draw near to Him with their lips but not their hearts: "Ye hypocrites, well did Esaias prophesy of you, saying, these people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth and honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me..." (Matthew 15:7-9).

The heart of man speaks louder to God than his words. God considers men's hearts and is not influenced by outward appearances. When told to anoint a king to replace Saul from among Jesse's sons, Samuel was impressed with the fine appearance and stature of the eldest, but the LORD told Samuel, "…Look not on his countenance, or the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7).

Without God, all men's hearts are wicked and deceitful. We must be "born again," to get a new heart, so that we have the Holy Spirit, and are made able to obey the Lord. We can align our words with His Word, making them acceptable to Him. David knew it would require God's strength and redemption to make his heart's meditations and the words he spoke acceptable to Him. This is true of us too! We need to make David's prayer our own: "Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer" (Psalm 19:14).

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, thank you for Your many promises of blessings. I am thankful that You are my refuge and I can run to You when I am in trouble. I am also grateful that You keep me from the devil's traps. Lord, I do love You, and I ask that You cleanse my heart from anything that is not like You. Strengthen me to walk worthy before You and my fellow men. Restore the "fear of the Lord" to Your people today. Lord, forgive us when, in certain areas, we have become too casual about the things of God. Instill in us, Your people, a reverential fear of Your Holy Name and Word. I ask this in Jesus' name. Amen. From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ,  gatekeeperwatchman.org Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups, Friday, April 19, 2024, Jacksonville, Florida., USA.  X ... @ParkermillerQ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981 GROUP: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA

[thedragonagelesbian]

For the BG3 character development asks: 1 , 10, and 19 (sorry!).

1: Where in the Faerûn is your Tav from?

Main timeline Cyrus is from Baldur's Gate (with the caveat that he spent the first ~25 years of his life on the move across the Sword Coast with his mother and father).

Ranger Cyrus is... uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

/crawling out of the forgotten realms wiki five hours later covered in blood/

I am (with immense hesitation and tentativeness for fear that ed greenwood may strike me down) going to claim the city state of Iriaebor as the providence of the dispossessed noble that Cyrus pledges himself to. [redacted] who uses him to violently reclaim and maintain power while assuring him that it's for the greater good (and who Cyrus eventually kills before vowing to root out as much of their influence as possible). What existing lore there is for the city includes its lawful ruler being ousted by the Zhentarim, which seems to me to be a perfect set up for the lord's daughter/son* to have need of a paladin who could very easily be convinced that the Zhentarim must be expelled by whatever means necessary.

This also means Cyrus' decision to leave that life behind lines up with the city coming under the influence (but not the direct control) of a recently established Elturguard, and I can't help but wonder if that might've had something to do with it-- a reformed and redeemed Champion of Iriaebor being hailed as a symbol of the city's independence or something.

As for his exile cottage, I think it makes the most sense for that to be in the Wood of Sharp Teeth for its proximity to Baldur's Gate, putting him in decent tadpoling range (and, unlike the other place I was considering, the Reaching Woods, THIS woods doesn't have a thing about gnolls very recently slaughtering all the other humanoids because canon D&D lore is just fucking like that sometimes.)

*I don't have a definitive identity for [redacted] yet, but depending on the day/mood, they're based either on Cullen or Meredith............................

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

Nope-- in any timeline or game, Cyrus doesn't consider himself to be particularly creative (or intellectual for that matter), and it's not like a full-fledged point of insecurity, but he's much happier to leave it to others

(Unless he gets drunk and starts singing)

19: How do you think they'll meet they're end?

Hmmmmmm not sure for shadow sorc and ranger Cyrus-- while I have a pretty strong idea of ranger Cyrus' immediate endgame (living a very good life with Duke Wyll), I haven't thought at all about what things will look like after Wyll passes (do we know if the devil transformation has affected his lifespan at all?).

And as for shadow sorc Cyrus........................................ well. He's a sword. That situation will resolve itself SOMEHOW, but I haven't planned much beyond some vague ideas of it involving a Wish spell (ESPECIALLY if Astarion has to choose to use it to help Cyrus instead of curing himself of his vampirism...)

As for our darling main timeline oathbreaker, I am quite content imagining him living a long and happy life with Halsin in the recovering Shadowlands, with all the work and the joys that are entailed in trying to rebuild an ecosystem that sustains and nurtures more equitable relations and communities. I just love the idea of this high leveled Oath of the Ancients paladin and archdruid pair planting deep, unshakeable roots and becoming mythic quest givers a la Keyleth of the Air Ashari (and also fucking nasty all day everyday).

In which case, if Cyrus doesn't martyr himself protecting the land and its people (which Halsin won't let happen easily), I imagine his death is a peaceful one of old age.

[tiodolma]

a little prose merlin / BBC merlin x morgana thingy

so in chapter 1 of the prose merlin the holy man, blase, instructs merlin's mom on how she may not fall into the devil's influence, right?

context: the devil already destroyed her parents and her 2 sisters: one was put to death after she was disovered sleeping with a man and her other sister became a prostitute

Quote the holy man, "If you will do after my counsel, he shall never deceive you." ....

...."Now then," quote he, "I pray the and command that you keep from falling into great ire and wrath, both in man and woman, namely, when they be i great ire and cumberance, that thow haste yield in the graces of our lord and all saints; and at all times thou go to bed or arest, bless the in then name of the father, the son and the holy ghost, and make upon in the name of the cross, on which he suffered his passion to buy us from the pains of hell. And if you do thus, you shall have no dread of the fiend's power. And where that you sleep on night, look that you have light, for the devil hates clearness and light and gladly will not come there."

..........

Merilin's mom follow this advice for months. She's perfect at it. But the demon doesn't want to give up. He has to have her somehow. He makes stuff happen and things come to a head with Merlin's mom and her prostitute sister. Merlin's mom, who's just human ffs, eventually succumbs to anger and wrath and goes to bed angry, locks the door and forgets to leave on a light. That's when the devil got his chance to impregnate her (and bear merlin in her womb)

..........

this reminds me of the part of the BBC SHOW

"i will never be like her, so full of bitterness, so full of hate.'

and

"she is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love."

..........

i know i have always criticized bbc merlin for abandoning/ and denouncing those very human emotions (anger, bitterness, hate). However reading prose merlin does give the bbc show a lot of context. At least for me, I can now understand where their wordbuilding and characterization might have came from.

Basically if we look at bbc morgana in a 13th century european esoteric lens, then she has succumbed to the devil by turning to darkness and anger for source of strength. Later adaptations/retellings of legendary morgan le fay do just that to her character. Her ire and anger and actions made her evil.

see this morgan le fay decription from a later chapter of prose merlin:

And she had fair eloquence, and tretable (?) and full debonair she was, as long as she was in her right wit; and when she were (at) wrath with any man, she was evil for to accord."

In the 13th century it seems that any form of anger is something that leads you to evil. Caveat to this... i think only morgan was described like this.

When Prose Merlin! Gawain was in rage mode, especially when he saw one of his brothers get felled from his horse during skirmish with the saxons, his actions was described as "full of anguish" as he rampaged even more.

When reading the Middle Engish text you'll notice that most of the protagonist men in Prose Merlin were just anguished and not really angry.

anguish

noun

Agonizing physical or mental pain; torment. synonym: regret. Excruciating or agonizing pain of either body or mind; acute suffering or distress. An overwhelming emotion.

Case in point. Merlin in Robert de Boron's prose romance is downright a jerk and an ass. But he is never portrayed as the bad guy. Why? He is almost never angry (except for throwing occassional hissy fits). He is often laughing and just resigned to fate and it's designs. When he was upset he was always "anguished" as well (which makes him do wackass mental gymnastics and commit horrible enchantments).

I guess that's what BBC merlin is? i dont know how to really say this but. by not succumbing to anger or ire or wrath or at least never admitting to feeling any these then counts himself as one of the good guys. The term to describe BBC Merlin then can be "perpetually anguished".

Therefore that makes him "unlike morgana" who has "obviously turned bad and evelle" because she let her anger/pain/wrath rule her. Merlin's "anguish" makes him "not evil" compared to angry characters like BBC Morgana and the rest of the radicals

....................

there's a double standard here ngl. It's obvious. lolololol Anguish still made legendary and modern characters do horrible supremely nonethical things but they're never see as evil or bad.

Anger/Ire/hatred no matter how justified, no matter how it came from a place of deep hurt is always evil smh.

.................

Moreover in the BBC show's case.

Hatred always come from a place of great Love

Light cannot exist without Darkness

There is truth when there are lies

these concepts cannot be separated from each other lmao. You need both together. And IRL not everything is completely black and white nor good/evil nor right/wrong. That's absolutist. Completely taking one from these natural-ish dyads causes an imbalance. one always exist with the other in harmony.

..........................

it's interesting that the bbc show drew it's philosophy from 13th century philosophy tho.

through modern psychology and medicine we now know that people are supposed to feel emotions. they are natural and proof your humanity. they are healthy. they keep you alive. suppressing anger or hate or ire to the point of no return can lead to trauma or very unhealthy coping mechanisms, often the results are devastating. (case in point... morgana and merlin tbh but we dont talk abt that)