#cw: divine timing

[ladyxskywalker]

so if you know me - I'm a bit of a hippie sometimes, I am very interested in spirituality, the universe, energy, connections, dreams, etc.

& this is not for everyone & I never thought I would do this - but, I just received a personalized digital tarot reading from a trusted source & it was so amazing !

I was so surprised & excited to see how spot on everything was. It was like she said everything I was thinking this entire time. Honest real talk. I got emotional about it.

Have to sleep soon - but just wanted to yell about it somewhere because I just thought it was so cool. 🌸💫🌙

Has anyone else here ever done something like this before ? What did you think about it ?

[labyrinth-walls-tiny-worm]

[xochimillilili]

Holding a sub's chin tight in my hand, seeing their desperate desire in their eyes, mouth salivating, wanting, needing me to use it. Seeing how pretty they look on their knees before me, babbling and whining over how much they need me, how they'll do anything for me in them

You'll do anything really, my little angel? You need me more than the air you breath? Go on then, seeing as you're on your knees— praise and pray for me in you as your god~

[zhouyes]

our master-disciple relationship ends here.

love of the divine tree, 仙台有树. [ TRAILER ]

[discard-celestia]

lestat de lioncourt - on the deer which runs faster than itself. Hélène Cixous, Stigmata / Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat / Interview with a Vampire (2022) / Catherine Malabou, Ontology of the Accident / Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001 / Louis Moe, Allegory / Ovid, Metamorphoses / Ethel Cain, Ptolomea / The Company of Wolves (1984) / Lingua Ignota, I WHO BEND THE TALL GRASSES / Hugh Parry, Ovid's Metamorphoses: Violence in a Pastoral Landscape.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

!!! FLASHING LIGHTS WARNING!!! [IM NOT FUCKIN AROUND!!]

REACHED THE CUSP OF 'THIS MAY NEVER BE ABSOLUTELY FINISHED N IF I DONT SHOW IT NOW, IT WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY.' SO HERE, A PROJECT IVE BEEN ORBITING AROUND UHH SINCE 2021 OR SO.

[justarandomlambblog]

"The days of crusades are over" might wanna re-check that, Lamb.

(referencing this post)

He might not be a fighter in this life, but he definitely has the soul of a fighter.

Or: Five once-gods are reborn in mortal bodies but still have divine souls and some heretics and wannabe-gods might wanna capitalize on that... and the once-Bishops are not the warriors they once were. But that doesn't mean they can't be again :)

Also seeing Narinder without his head covering, yes he has a sun and moon piercing. Wonder why he felt compelled to get those <3

(where did Narinder get a scythe? Where did he get one he could actually carry? Hmm )

[mimiscoiningcafe]

Mortician - A headmate who helps the system cope with death, whether it be fronting during times of grieving or helping comfort during mortality spirals.

Coined for my own system!

Tag List: @mogai-sunflowers, @heart-valentin3, @fagdykefrank, @dreamythism, @cosmilky, @dstriderr, @radiomogai, @pluralterms

[shining-gem34]

CW: Implied Body Horror

[Happy Birthday! >:D]

Honey coats the tongue and burns on the way down. 

It clings to teeth and throat- every inch as suffocating as the One Who Bleeds. 

【Silence the violent tides of your mind, O' Cherished One.】

A voice sweetly whispers. Slick as an oil spill, overflowing into cracked seams to reknit the broken with tendons and scales. 

【Let my blood quell the raging fire in your veins.】

【Lay claim to flesh and bone】

【Claim the fruits of the Abundance for your own】

【And let me...fix you】

Strewn atop ever branching limbs, an unearthly maw finds his. 

Mouths touch in a delicate kiss as the sting of its scorpion's tail takes a hold. 

Yaoshi traces their love with their lips. 

Even as poisonous filth entwines in the fabric of his existence. Branding. Bone. Skin. Organs. Viscera. 

There is not a part of the High Elder that is uniquely his alone to own. 

Not anymore. 

No...

The High Elder tries to say, but his tongue is heavy like lead.

No...

The High Elder tries to cover his ears, but his hands are tied by chains.

No...

The High Elder tries to close his eyes, but they are forced open to witness the divine.

He did not ask to be 'fixed'. He did not ask for THEIR blessings. He did not ask for THEIR gaze on him.

None of this, Dan Feng didn't ask for anything of this.

Unfortunately, he has no say in this. When compared to the existence of an Aeon, Dan Feng is but a mortal. A fragment of an Aeon long gone- pitiful, weak, and so small.

The seed rooted in his heart has already begun to bloom. With it, the destruction of his life as "Yinyue Jun" is imminent. The parasites have corrupted his body and mind, and soon his soul will follow.

Yes.

Dan Feng says between kisses as THEIR ichor mends broken tendons and scales.

Yes.

Dan Feng listens to THEIR words, a honeysweet voice dripping of poison and temptations.

Yes

Dan Feng no longer wishes to close his eyes. He keeps them open, drinking in the sight of Yaoshi divine presence.

Then the pain is gone. Only blissful acceptance.

|| Submitted by @grislyintentions

[dysfunctionaldogdude]

TRICK OR TREAT!!!!!!!

🍭

[giantkillerjack]

Posting this here for receipts in case someone decides to steal this killer line of poetry I wrote for a spotify playlist description of all things (and which, together with the title, sounds like the heading of an essay that I would immediately want to read very badly):

[audsomeartist]

Swordtember Day 4: Divine Relic. Me- “You know you’re supposed to posted it at the beginning of the day right” My brain- “Haha, digital painting go brrr” (The quote is from “All that blood” by the band Saw Mass)

[labyrinth-walls-tiny-worm]

I major in History and Art because I have always been obsessed with permanence through time. I have always wondered how could anything last in an ever-changing world. I have read and read but people always die, languages are forgotten and art deteriorates to the point of complete destruction. Even when something survives enough time to be founded by someone and that someone, if they even care enough, share it; its reexistence is just a matter of time. In most cases it's a giant building or something buried deep down in the earth, in most recent history is text that people through time have valued enough to take care of, but, in the end, everything fades. Until now, all those things had something in common, something so mundane and subtle it is rarely taken into consideration, matter. We live in an ethereal world, nothing truly exists in a literal space. All of our ideas are captured in a medium as abstract as our own mind. Maybe the whole wed could be Heaven. Maybe humanity has finally reached its epitome. How could you destroy something that doesn't exist? I find more truth in these pixels than in the flesh that compounds me. Those matted and tangled cables, those that curl and crawl their way into our home, hold more honesty and meaning into them that all our damned texts. All that will be left of us will be these billions of terabytes. Not our art, not our culture but something much more intimate and shameful. We, a bunch of sinful creatures of bone and meat, filled with filth and temptation, could never reach paradise, but we could use our limbs and souls to create something pure that could satisfy what is above and culminate our grotesque existence once and for all. Something that will be engraved by our transgressions. Maybe God knew he could not create his angels without making something horrid first, something that He could use to complete His final creation.

[honeyhpd]

having the realization that my friends think i had a bad childhood and that I’ve experienced a lot of abuse in my life was so funny in a weird way. like what? i thought i was telling a silly story.

then immediately the bobs burgers episode about Bob realizing he had a bad childhood while everyone else could already tell 😭

[quarterlifekitty]

That Price coming home to his missus with a baby thing was delicious, absolutely divine. Do you think for the other boys and Nik it'd be something similar or would they have wildly different reactions? Btw I absolutely love your writing, I check your blog daily for your new stuff, the way you write is delicious, thank you <3

I’ll give you a little something for Ghost since you made me blush and teehee

Also uhhhh I might’ve fucked up the timing a little on infant development milestones but you’re gonna have to forgive me on that

cw: suspicions of infidelity

Ghost is bouncing his leg the whole time he spends in evac. The heli ride, the plane back to base, the car back to his flat— as soon as he was released from the mind frame of the mission it was like all of that anxiety over you he’d built up over the past year and half came crashing on his head.

You’d’ve left him. You must have. He wasn’t really anything he’d call worth sticking around for. That was the plain and honest truth. He’s thinking of the quickest way he can find you and get on his knees for you once he’s scraped all of the blood and dirt off. It was easy to nod and go along with a sudden job Price called about, back when he was under the impression that it would be a few months tops.

He sees a light on in the window of your shared flat. Fuck, hopefully that you and not some new tenant— that somehow his automatic payments had fucked up while he was away and he got evicted. For a split second he debates whether sprinting up the stairs would be faster than waiting for this god-forsaken lift.

He pauses at the door when he hears your laughter. Thank fucking god. His relief is palpable, he’s thanking you and god and whoever else will listen, he’ll never ask for anything again—

“When did you get so cute, huh?”

No.

You wouldn’t.

Not in the flat you two shared, where you fucked and loved each other and cried together, the world couldn’t possibly be so cruel that you’d—

He gets as far as bursting through the door after he manages to find the right key before he’s stopped in his tracks. You look to the door like a deer in headlights, your eyes wide and with a little spoon of sweet potato puree in your hand. Your hair is a mess and—

There’s a baby looking at him. Looking where mommy is looking. The fat little thing is in a high chair, a mess on its face. The name “Lydia” is embroidered in big, swirly letters on her bib. It was a name he’d talked about, his one decent childhood memory, his aunt—

He drops his duffel and rips off the mask. The baby has these whisps of hair that are undeniably yours, eyes that he’s only seen in the mirror.

“Simon— is it really you?” You almost whisper in disbelief. Like you’d dreamed him coming through the door before. Makes his heart fucking ache. The words come out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“Yeah, mama. S’me.”

[leonsdolly]

Canto V

Plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon's back from Spain, but there's something off about him.

CW: nsfw 18+, p in v, dubcon, implied somnophilia, breeding kink, bruising, titplay, cunnilingus, creampie, unprotected sex, forced orgasms, overstimulation, lots of spit, choking, reader passes out during sex

WC: 2.4k

It may as well be a universally known concept that when you’re in a relationship with a government agent, you’d better get used to being strangers with the finer details. Who, what, when, where, and why made themselves at home in your vocabulary while you were dating Leon. It was all futile; he couldn't ever tell you where he was going for his next mission or when he was coming back to your grabby hands. Swearing confidentiality with your left hand on the Bible trumps a loving, concerned girlfriend apparently.

Leon had been gone for a few days this time around, and you weren’t sure when exactly he’d be back. You prayed to every divinity who cared to listen that he would come back home safe and sound to you. You did so every time he left. The government calls, he runs, you make your deals with Jesus.

The clock strikes midnight as you flit around your apartment, closing the kitchen and ensuring everything is locked up for the night. You got home from work rather late, and you’re looking forward to falling into a deep slumber, especially since you’ve taken your everything shower, completed your skincare routine, and changed into a cute teddy bear print cami with matching boy shorts. While your heart aches for your absent boyfriend, you throw your shoulders back and keep your chin high, braving another night of sleeping alone in your queen-sized bed. You slide under the covers and turn off your bedside lamp before closing your eyes and ultimately slipping into a welcomed state of unconsciousness.

Scratching, more scratching… Huh? You blearily open your eyes before squinting at the time displayed on your alarm clock - 1:48 am. Did something wake you? You don’t hear anything, yet you have the sinking feeling that something did lull you out of your sleep. You fumble to turn the lamp on - thankfully, there’s nothing standing in the corner of your room or anything else that would have you screaming bloody murder until your lungs collapsed. The covers are pulled aside as you sit up in bed, planting your feet on the hardwood floor. 

Once your feet lightly hit the floor, a terrible shuffling resounds from the living room which makes your blood freeze over. Your limbs are immobilized, but your eyes move towards the door, like you’re in a state of sleep paralysis and your demon’s lurking around the corner. Heavy footsteps grow closer and closer to your door, and you watch the doorknob turn in slow motion. 

The door swings open, and your body dissolves. 

“Leon?” Your eyes blink at him, unsure for a second if he’s the product of a sleep paralysis induced hallucination.

Your lover stands before you with a somewhat dazed expression himself - dark circles engraved below his exhausted eyes, faded bruises on his face, dark veins trailing across his pale skin. He stands transfixed for what feels like forever before he blinks. “Baby.”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your own stupor, and you launch off the bed and straight into his arms. You bury your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around him tightly. “You’re home.”

He shudders violently before his arms encircle you as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling the smell of your shampoo - ah, figs and camellia, a breath of fresh air from guts and mold. “I missed you… I almost didn't…” His voice is unsteady, wavering in a way that makes you want to never let go of him.

“It's okay, my love. You're home now, you’re safe.”

“I almost didn't make it… You don’t know what happened…” His hands shake slightly as he grips onto you a little harder.

A lump forms in your throat at the realization that he could have very well perished during this mission. It’s not often that he lets you see him in such a vulnerable state, so hearing the fear decorate his tone causes your heart to squeeze painfully. 

“What happened?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Fine, at least tell me where you were. S’not like I can head there and foil the government’s plans after it’s already over. ”

“...Spain.”

You wonder what kind of horrors had transpired in Spain, but you know better than to inquire further. You hold him close and rub his back soothingly, trying to make him feel as loved as possible. “It's over now, right?”

“Right…” A hint of worry colors his tone as he presses a kiss to your head. “Can we just go to sleep?”

“Of course,” you reach up to gently rub the shadowy veins visible underneath his eyes and creeping up his neck. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Guess my body just went through a lot back there.”

You take his arms, turning them over and over and examining them closely for any serious wounds. Thankfully, you don’t see anything except for the occasional minuscule scrape, though the unnaturally dark veins worry you. You’re afraid they may be the result of some sort of vascular impairment, so you make a promise to yourself that you’ll drag him to the doctor’s office soon for a proper assessment. You help him wash up, letting him use your products so he’s soft and smelling like you. You hold each other close in bed, relishing the feeling of finally being able to sleep in each other’s arms after time apart.

Ouch. You wince slightly as you wake up to the sun streaming in through your lace curtains. You drowsily fumble for Leon’s hand to hold first thing in the morning like you usually do, but the space next to you is empty. You certainly hope you hadn’t just dreamed of his homecoming.

“Baby?” You croak as you wince again. Are you naked? And why are you so sore? Your eyes trail down to your arms which are littered with bruises. Eyes wide like cherry pies, you tug the comforter off to discover that the rest of your bare body is marked in a similar fashion - bruises bloomed across your neck, teeth marks engraved in your breasts, handprints stamped onto your hips like someone had been gripping onto them for dear life. Trembling, you slowly raise yourself up to a sitting position. You squirm as you feel slick in between your thighs, how fresh it is, you can't say for sure.

“Leon?” Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears as you call out for your lover.

You’re dazed as you take a step forward, feeling your body spinning like a ballerina, a delicate little thing that’s been used and abused and stuffed in a box marked FRAGILE. A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, anchoring you to his bare chest- they’re so much warmer than your Leon’s. Your eyes flutter as they gaze straight up into a pair that look like your Leon's except they’re murkier, hungrier. 

Inky blood vessels coagulate underneath his skin, giving him a mottled appearance. They interweave throughout his body like morbid ribbons decorating his limbs for a funeral. He breathes heavily as he squeezes at your already tender body, causing you to whimper.

“Leon, ‘m sore… What did you do?” A low growl reverberates within him as he pulls you back onto the bed, shoving you onto your back. Before you can interrogate him further, his lips smash against yours. His kisses are all teeth and slobber, filled with nothing but the desire to ravage everything you hold near and dear.

“Mine, all mine,” he groans as he latches his lips onto your neck, decorating it with his very own artistic flair. “Mine to keep forever.” You whimper at the way his lips assault your most sensitive point like a wolf ready to tear out the wide eyed fawn’s throat. 

“Fuck, feels so good,” you moan which further ignites that primal instinct in him that wants to give you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known, all for the sake of claiming you as his very own mate. He squeezes your tits together and spits on them before rubbing it into your nipples with the rough pads of his thumbs. You squeal at the stimulation as he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling at it as hard as he can before letting go with a pop.

“God, Leon,” you cry out as he continues to suck on your tits. He pushes them together as hard as he can and forces both nipples into his mouth so he can lap at them like a creature who stumbled across an eternal spring in the vast desert.

“Love these tits,” he groans. “Sweet fucking nipples, made to suck on all day and night. To think they’re gonna get even bigger when they're full of milk.” He pushes his face in between them before finally pulling away with a slap to each one, watching them jiggle with a carnal gaze.

“M-milk?” You whimper as he kisses across your abdomen and lowers down to your leaking pussy.

“Yeah,” he pants as he spreads your dripping folds open with his thumbs, inspecting the remnants of the now stale cum he had dumped inside while you slept like an unsuspecting angel. “Your body has accepted my gift.” A tinge of fear courses through your veins at this last line; you can’t put your finger on why it makes your skin crawl, but they don’t sound like your Leon’s words.

“Gift?” You involuntarily moan as he lets himself drool on your pussy before pressing sloppy kisses straight onto your clit. 

“You’ll take my seed.” He starts lapping at your pussy ruthlessly, but not before grabbing your thighs and forcing them to clamp around his head, keeping him fused to your most intimate parts. Your sweet noises overflow the room as your back arches like he’s possessing you, dragging you down to flail around for eternity among the powerful black winds. Your voice turns shrill as you cum on his salacious tongue. Canto V.

When he finally emerges for air, his eyes are now murkier than before - the once serene blue that inspired such tranquility is now charred, tenebrous. “Leon,” your eyes tear up as you gaze down at him with your elbows propping you up.

“Shh,” he smirks as he raises himself up to pump his hard cock a few times before aligning himself with your pretty hole. “My baby, my lamb. Gonna get your beautiful belly all swollen for me. Gonna creampie you as many times as it takes.” He pushes himself inside your sopping cunt as you wail for the heavens. Your pussy allows him to enter with ease, clenching around him like it needed him to breathe - which it did. He begins to thrust into you with all the vigor of a madman.

“So good for me, my fucking girl,” he pants as he continues to pound into you. He leers at the way your tits bounce at each thrust before leaning over to spit on them. Your chest gleams with his saliva as you moan louder than you ever have before, like your throat really is being ripped out by the big bad wolf. His cock reaches deep, hitting all the spots you know nothing else can, and before you know it, you’re cumming all over him as he continues to pummel into you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to claw onto anything that can keep you physically grounded through your orgasm.

He laughs a little to himself as he continues to fuck you despite the fact you just came. “L-leon,” you cry out. “S’too much, too sensitive.”

“You can take it, been taking it all night.” His balls slap against your ass as he leans down to jam his lips against yours, licking into your mouth until your head’s all dizzy again. He rears back to push your legs up against your chest as his cock pounds into you; the new angle’s making your eyes roll all the way back into your head. “Oh, fuck,” he murmurs to himself as his breath hitches and he stares down at you losing yourself in the mating press. “That’s a good breeding bitch.” His words are hushed, but they bounce around in your head and yank another orgasm out of you, leaving you sobbing from the overstimulation.

“S’okay baby,” he coos as he kisses your salty tears away and wraps a hand around your smooth throat. “You’re doing so well, accepting my gift.” His eyes unsettle you, damn near pitch black as they peer right into yours. Your battered pussy tightens in tandem with the hand gripping your throat. Your tongue lolls out as you start seeing stars, and he sucks on it. “Give me another one, little lamb.”

“C-can’t,” you slur as your limbs dissolve. You want to give him another one. Want it, want to bear his child, want to exist for him. Want to breathe him, let him pump through your circulatory system. His breathing becomes erratic, damn near hysterical, as he nears his own high. He rubs your swollen clit to bring you closer to yet another orgasm, though you wonder if you’ll live to tell the tale once you reach it. He pounds into you as hard as he can, unrestrained growls falling from his lips as he dumps his load into you. You manage to cum yet again, release so intense on your already wasted form, that it shatters your senses. You’re vaguely aware of someone shrieking, and it takes a while to realize that it’s coming from your own mouth. You did it. Your vision goes black, and you slump into unconsciousness. 

The first thing you perceive when you regain consciousness is the calloused hand gently caressing your face as if you’re a china doll. “Leon?” Your mumble brings him to slowly gaze at you with concern and shame.

“Baby.” He raises his other hand to hold yours with all the love and tenderness he could muster. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore… tired…” You frown slightly as you try to sit up, but he stops you from straining yourself. “What happened, Leon?”

“I’m so sorry.” His eyes are cast downwards as if the floor will be more forgiving than his own lover. “I’m not okay.”

“It’s okay,” you frown as you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I could’ve. I thought this thing had resolved itself in Spain.”

“We’ll figure this out together.” You gently tug his arm, signaling to him that for now, you just want him laying with you. He slides into the bed and cautiously rolls you over on your side so that he’s spooning you from behind. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and gives your belly a pat.