#i love corruption + religion stuff
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bestie okay hear me out. priest mike but like you're the one in control. STAY WITH ME!! like you go to church and flirt with him like crazy, wearing skimpy outfits making him dizzy in the head which eventually leads him to cave into his desires that he holds so dearly, basically begging for for your attention and your touch. idk but the thought of like "corrupting" (idk if that's the right word for it) him in such a filthy slutty way, man in thinking thoughts...(absolutely love your writing btw you're so talented fr!!)
(AHH?? anon?? woah, woah woah. im drooling. im definitely listening.)
i can imagine the reader going to the church in a short jean skirt that just barely covers her ass. and she knows people will judge her, but she doesn't care because all she needs is his attention.
the priest is up on the stage, giving a sermon, staring right at her, and all the reader does is maintain eye contact while she uncrosses her legs and holy shit she's not wearing panties.
he's sweating and burning up and almost stuttering in front of everyone as he pulls on the collar of his dress shirt and tries not to look at her, but he really can't tear his eyes away for more than a few seconds. mind you, he's popping a boner behind the pulpit. thank god for that fuckin' pulpit, pun not intended (sorry, god).
once the service is done, and everyone has flooded out, he quickly walks down to the reader in the pews and immediately gets down on his knees in front of her; his eyes all big and blue with pupils completely blown.
"what are you trying to do to me?" he whispers, desperation and anticipation and embarrassment wavering in his voice as his hands run up over the soft skin of her thighs.
and the reader just smirks, spreads her legs, and urges his face into her heat. "Shhhh," she hums softly, watching him look up to her as his lips and tongue make contain with her slick cunt, "be good for me.. we can ask god for forgiveness after you make me cum..."
and wow, he doesn't resist at all. he laps at her core until shes spilling and spasming in her seat, her leg draped over his shoulder as the broken AC in the church only exacerbates his guilty sweating.
should he stop? yeah. but he can't. and he won't. he wouldn't in a million years. not even if hell itself opened up beneath the floorboards of the holy building they're in and threatened to swallow him up if he didn't stop eating her pussy.
if heaven's doors opened up above right then, a golden staircase beckoning him in, he'd still choose her pretty folds + her hole over any sort of everlasting paradise.
after all, weren't heaven and her the same things?
----
ive honestly been thinking about writing a pt 2 to "kneel" where the reader takes a bit of control? like a tiny bit? i just don't think that the priest!mike faist character i've built up in that fic would necessarily enjoy her doing that LMFAO.
he'd be like "hm. ok. ill do it for u". but when she starts to coo at him or deny him release he's suddenly like >:( this isn't fun anymore.
---
but no, im seriously all about corruption. i think it's insanely hot. so i raise u one more: priest's son!mike...? priest's son!art donaldson..?
mmph
#also THANK U ANON ur so incredibly sweet omfg 🩷🩷#sage's asks#i love corruption + religion stuff#its so hot bc its so wrong but its so right#now my thoughts are muddled w this#mike faist#mike faist x reader#mike faist smut#mike faist x you#mike faist imagine
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ah shit here come the destiel barbie plotbunnies
#cas is so respected in heaven#“hi dean!”#dean as he jumps up and down: HI CAS !!!#but heaven is falling apart :(#so cas goes to the real world to fix religion#and all these preachers are saying all this wrong stuff!!#meanwhile dean is like what#oh my god#humans control the churches here? there’s no angels here?#and cas gets cussed out by a teenager for aligning himself with religion#“how can you like something that makes people feel like monsters for being different??”#and cas is like what?#no i’m- that’s not me- i love everyone#and dean tries to bring the other humans into the real world and out of heaven#and they enslave the angels to do their humanly bidding and create a new apocalypse#and crowley is there ofc ofc and hes panicking because heaven is falling apart and that’s what stabilizes hell#and eventually cas has gone too far and been too corrupted to be an angel anymore#so he lives out as a human and tries to fix heaven#and then theres the end or something idk#but do you see the vision.
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So I saw Dune Part 2 yesterday and I was initially super crushed because of the deviation from book canon but the more I think about it the more I sorta like it…
So without further ado here’s a list of stuff I liked about Dune Part 2:
- all the scenes initially of Paul growing closer to the Fremen. You can clearly see that they become friends, accept him as a Feydakin, that they’re laughing, joking, hanging out. (And contrast that to the end of the movie, where Paul has no more Fremen friends, only followers. In the book, this is echoed, where Paul recognizes that he has lost his friends to the Muad’Dib religion. Take book Stilgar, who truly embodies this… by the end of the book, Paul says: “I have seen a friend [Stilgar] become a worshipper.”
- giving Chani explicit rejection of Paul’s messiah status was an interesting choice. Chani’s main thought over part 2 is that they don’t need religion to save them, that through Fremen power and desert power, the Fremen can save themselves. She recognizes that this fanatical worship can be a vehicle to control and enslave her people, and I sorta wish we saw Paul lean into that more… that they found a way to stay together and ‘fight’ the prophecy together based on Chani’s ideals…
- also, I love how engrained this rejection of religion and prophecy is in her character. Book Chani takes no issue with her Fremen name, Sihaya (desert spring), but movie Chani hates it “because it’s part of some prophecy.” Later, we see that despite her rejection of prophecy and religion, that the prophecy does indeed come to pass— the tears of desert spring save Him aka, Chani saving Paul after he drinks The Water of Life. (Interesting how Jessica has to force Chani to save Paul using the Voice… another example of Jessica explicitly forcing Paul to become the messiah).
- adding more depth to Fremen culture— the South being the more religious fundamentalist tribes vs the North being more secular. Early on, the movie paints this immediate divide between the tribes of Fremen who accept Paul and Jessica versus those who treat them as offworlders (who murdered Jamis). In the books everyone accepts Paul and Jessica after Paul bests Jamis and Jessica quotes some scripture, but I think it makes more logical sense that there’d be friction over these two random offworlders coming in
- I love love loved Paul speaking at the meeting of the Fremen tribe leaders in the South. He fully accepts his messiah status, exercises his power of the Voice + his prescience as a way to command all the Fremen under his name
- I’m a big fan of omitting the two-year time skip, so with that I’m glad Leto II was skipped over entirely. I always felt that Leto II was an unnecessary character addition to the book, especially when he just dies and everyone sort of goes “oh well” and moves on, so I’m glad it’s omitted.
- another interesting choice was to paint Jessica as a straight up villain in comparison to the way her book counterpart was not. The movie Jessica we see here is seemingly corrupted by the Water of Life: she walks around talking to herself (Alia) and scheming Paul’s ascent to Lisan-Al Gaib. She knows about the Holy War, which is the very thing Paul is trying to prevent, yet she expresses no concern about bringing it to fruition. (Probably because Jessica knows it’s impossible to prevent, but still.) The very last line of the movie, where Alia asks Jessica what’s going on and Jessica says “The Holy War has begun” is just total villain in my mind— explicit acceptance of the Holy War, like it’s just another stepping stone in her plan. Plus, the fact that Paul has visions of Jessica leading him into this period of great starvation totally cements her as a villian.
- going off of that, I like that we see Jessica undergoing actual agony when she takes The Water of Life. When book Jessica and Paul take The Water of Life they accept it calmly and without obvious pain (book Jessica was sitting with her eyes closed, as if sleeping), so this physical reaction that Jessica has to the poison adds to the idea that The Water of Life did change her in a negative way.
- I feel like so far we’ve been introduced to Alia as just a weird talking fetus who’s been consorting with Jessica, so Paul’s vision where Alia says “I love you” really strikes home, that she really does care for Paul which we might not have understood otherwise
#I should probably add something about Feyd-Rautha bc I thought his scenes were really cool so that’s a TBC of this post#also I can’t believe they skipped over Count Fenring! The one person who could defeat Paul in battle… I’m crushed#dune#dune book#dune part two#dune part 2#chani kynes#paul atreides#jessica atreides#alia atreides#dune spoilers
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Innocence
Remus Lupin x f!reader
warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hand job, virgin reader, purity ring 😮💨, making out, underage smoking, mention of underage drinking, slight innocence/ corruption kink, lmk if i missed any!
summary: remus learns the ring you wear everyday is called a purity ring, and he develops a strange obsession with it… and wanting to take it off you…
word count: 4.6k
a/n: guys.. dw there’s gonna b a part two but like omgggggg this made me feel so many things i’m in love with this. lmk what you think :) also i’m not religious so if any of this is not accurate i’m sorry lol it’s for the plot
part two is posted!!! here
~~~
Ever since he knew you, Remus noticed that one thing you always wore. It was plain, a simple gold band on your left ring finger, the marriage finger. Typically, such nonsense wouldn’t cross his mind twice, but you wore that ring damn ring every day. Since the first time he ever saw you, that ring was on your finger. He never saw you without it. So, his curiosity got the better of him.
Why would such a simple ring be so important that you never took it off? It couldn’t have been because you were married. No. You wore it even at the young age of eleven. Could it have been a family heirloom? That idea was plausible, however to him, it didn’t feel like the correct answer. And Remus Lupin always needed the correct answer.
So, he eventually decided to ask you.
During dinner one night, when you just so happened to be sitting next to him, his eyes caught sight of the ring and he eyed it suspiciously. You noticed this.
“Something wrong Rem?” You asked.
He looked up from the ring on your delicate finger to meet your confused eyes. “Why do you always wear that specific ring? And always on that finger? Is it special?”
“Oh.” You laughed for a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s stupid really, an old muggle tradition.” You composed yourself and looked up at him, a slight red tint to your cheeks. “It’s called a purity ring. Basically, I wear it as a reminder that I pledged to wait till marriage.”
Remus was confused, and he hated being confused. “Why would anyone wait till marriage?”
You shrugged. “Muggle religion is quite weird. They value keeping teenagers pure until they’re married. I think it’s stupid, but I still wear it.”
“So, you’ve done it but continue wearing it as a... symbol?” He questioned.
“Oh no, I haven’t done it. I might find it stupid, but I still plan to keep my promise. It’s sort of a nice accomplishment don’t you think? I’ve gone through two years of everyone shagging around me and I haven’t given in,” you answered.
He stared at you for a few seconds. You were still a virgin, and that ring was the reason. He thought for a moment. How could you be a virgin? He swore he had seen you go off with a bloke from Ravenclaw a few months ago during a party. But then as his eyes trailed over your small figure, he realized the idea wasn’t completely impossible. He’d never seen you with hickeys, he’d never seen you dress improperly, and he surely had never seen you enter the common room after a long night with someone. For some reason, it made a strange feeling bloom deep inside him.
“Surely you’ve at least done other stuff, right?”
You simply shook your head and took a bite from your sandwich. “Furthest I’ve ever gone is having some Ravenclaws tongue down my throat.”
Ah, so he was right about that.
“Besides, I don’t really even know much about any of that stuff. I mean I know biology, but that’s about it. And of course, what Marls and Mary tell me from their extravagant experiences,” you added after swallowing.
So that meant...
“You haven’t done anything?” He was surprised, it was clear in his tone.
“No need to sound so flabbergasted. Besides, why do you even care about what I’ve done? I always thought you were the modest type too,” you replied with an eye roll.
Remus looked away from you, and the urge to smirk took him over. He thought back to those countless nights over the summer breaks he’d spent with muggle girls. The feelings, the sounds, the tastes, all experiences he’d never forget. But by no means was Remus Lupin a player, oh no. He was nothing like his mate. However, he also wasn’t a saint like everyone painted him out to be.
“I may be modest but that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” he said after a moment, his eyes finally turned back to you. He liked the way you looked at him. “That went away a few summers ago.”
You smiled, though something about it was off, almost as if it were forced. “Well, cheers to that.”
“Cheers.” He nodded in agreement.
You turned back to the group conversation before he could say anything else.
~~~
Remus had thought after finding out what the ring's importance was, he would let it go and move on. Unfortunately, he had thought wrong. Ever since that conversation with you, he couldn’t get any of it off his mind. When he’d see you, he’d always look at your left hand, almost making sure that ring was still there. It always was. And for some reason it made him feel almost relieved. He needed more answers.
Thankfully, another opportunity came not too long after the first.
The two of you had been paired together in potions. Typically, he would be a bit upset with the fact given you were never the best in the subject. But for the first time, he was pleased with the pairing.
He watched as you cut up some of the ingredients, that stupid ring shining from the lights. Questions filled his head. Where had you gotten it? When did you get it? Who gave it to you? Did your parents know what it meant? What were you supposed to do with it when the time finally came? He needed to get the answers.
“So, when did you get it?” He casually asked his eyes on the cauldron.
“Get what?”
“The ring.”
You chuckled. “You’re still on about that? I suppose you aren’t too accustomed to muggle things. I got it right before I came here actually. My parents wanted to give me a reminder about life at home, and they wanted to make sure I knew where my ‘loyalties’ lay. Though, I was only a little girl. Did they expect anything to happen at that young?”
Three questions were answered. Good.
Remus dropped his chopped ingredients into the cauldron. “Does that mean you give it back to them when you finally do it?”
“Oh no. I give it to my husband of course,” you replied. “Do these look alright?”
He finally turned his head in your direction and looked over your cutting board then he met your eyes. “Perfect. You can put them in.”
“You don’t know how good that makes me feel to hear. Master of potions Remus Lupin says I’m perfect, I could faint,” you said as you scrapped your work into the cauldron, a hint of laughter in your voice.
He rolled his eyes. “I said your cutting was perfect, but if it makes you feel good, I suppose you are too.”
You looked up at him with a glint in your eyes that made an odd feeling form in his chest. You looked so damn innocent. How had he not noticed it before? You had always been one of the shyer members of Gryffindor, but he always brushed it off as nothing important. He never would’ve guessed just how innocent you were.
“How sweet of you.” You giggled.
“ ’Course, anytime love.”
He noticed the shift in your body at his words. How odd. You looked away from him for a few seconds, that familiar rose tint returning to your cheeks. Did you always do that? Did such simple words always make you blush and turn away? Or was it just him? He watched you bite down on your lip and fiddle with your ring.
You were teasing him.
It was then he decided he was going to get that ring from you.
And you were going to love it.
~~~
Getting you to that point was going to take some time, Remus knew that. But it didn’t stop him. He started simply. When the two of you were hanging out in the group, he made sure to at least say a few words to you alone. When eating meals, he made sure to get a spot next to you. Most importantly though, he started making sure to leave subtle hints. Lingering eye contact, small touches that weren’t necessary, comments that made your face turn red. He could tell all of it made you flustered, and he loved it.
During all of it, his obsession with your innocence only grew. He wanted to take it away. He wanted to taint you, to make you not so pure anymore. He didn’t understand the feeling, he never cared much for such stereotypical nonsense. But each time you looked at him with those curious, innocent eyes, it only made his patience strained.
The first breakthrough came during one of Sirius and James’s parties. The common room blared with music, and people laughed and danced. You were among them. Remus leaned against the wall next to the staircase to the boy's dorm, a cigarette between his lips as he watched you dance with Mary and Lily. Your smile was bright, your body moved to the rhythm almost perfectly. You wore a pretty little dress. But he couldn’t focus on any of that because that damn ring caught his attention.
It had become quite a distraction. He found himself staring at it far more than normal. During class and dinner, it consumed most of his thoughts. He needed to get it off your finger before it caused his grades to slip.
From across the room, your eyes suddenly found his. You gave him a questioning look; he only smirked back and released a cloud of smoke into the air. He watched you say something to the girls before you began to walk in his direction. Perfect.
“Why do you always stand on the sidelines?” You asked once you were close enough. “And if you’re going to stare at me all night you might as well just dance with me.”
He chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette. “I’m not the biggest fan of these parties and I definitely don’t dance.” He offered you the cigarette, and you shook your head and pointed to your ring. “Come on, that applies to cigs too?”
“And alcohol, pretty much whatever is considered sinful. Though, I have indulged in a drink or two. Mommy and Daddy don’t need to know about that,” you answered.
Merlin, he needed to do something with you. It was almost unbearable.
“You’re saying alcohol and cigs are sinful but intense snogging isn’t? Seems a bit hypocritical to me,” he eventually said.
You smiled and shrugged. “That’s muggle religion for you. It’s pretty much up to each person's interpretation and what they value. I value being sober more than refraining from a snog occasionally.”
“But a shag...”
“That’s universally seen as a big sin. Most of us would agree not to do it until marriage.”
He released another breath of smoke. “Most of you?”
“Well, not everyone agrees of course. Like I said, it’s technically up to everyone’s values. Murder is also considered a sin, you know. But even some people commit that,” you explained. He watched you blush. “I don’t think I should compare virginity to murder though.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a fair comparison,” he replied, his lips turned up into a smile.
You turned even more red. “Sorry. But you get what I’m saying, right?”
“Everything is optional is what you’re saying.” He let his eyes trail over your body, making sure you noticed. “So really, you could fuck someone before marriage.”
“I mean yeah, I could, but I don’t think I will,” you said. You began to fiddle with the ring again. “It’s sort of always been with me it would feel weird giving it to someone else.”
“Do you have to give it away for anything? Or just actual sex?” It was another question he’d been dying to know. He watched you think for a moment.
“I think just the full thing. I don’t know. I don’t even really know that much about it like I said when you first asked me. I mean, I know people use their hands and mouths but... sorry. I shouldn't be talking about such things.” You put your face in your hands, Remus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry.”
He needed to do something. Now.
“Don’t be sorry love, it’s alright. You know you can trust me; I wouldn’t dare tell anyone about your sinful thoughts,” he spoke. He turned and dropped his cigarette into one of the many ashtrays in the common room. When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him. “But you know if you ever wanted to indulge in something like that, you can come to me.”
You were beyond flustered, and it showed. “Oh! That’s very um... generous of you, but I don’t think I’ll do any of that I mean... I don’t plan on it.”
He casually shrugged. “We all get a bit curious at some point in our lives.”
For a moment the two of you only stared at each other. He could tell exactly what you were thinking. You were curious. You wanted to try things. He observed you carefully. He could sense the conflict within you. Value versus desire. It was a tough battle, but you didn’t cave. At least, not yet.
“Perhaps, but I made a promise and I need to stick to it,” you said. You looked over your shoulder at your clearly intoxicated friends. “I should get back to Lily and Mary.”
“Right, it was nice talking,” he replied with a smile.
You nodded. “I’ll see you later.”
“Till then love.”
Even as you walked away and joined your friends once again, he could see the way his words affected you. You could deny the feelings all you wanted, but your body craved the unknown. It was only a matter of time till you caved, and Remus would wait.
He was never one to give up easily.
~~~
You came to him faster than he expected. He understood why though, you were on edge about all of it. In the few days it took for you to go to him, he noticed how different you acted. You were more tense, you fiddled with your ring far more than normal. He imagined the inner conflict you faced was stressful, but he was glad about the turnout of it.
After dinner, as he was walking to the library for a study group, you found him. He was a bit surprised at your approach, but nevertheless, he welcomed it with joy.
“Hey Remus, could I talk to you for a second?” You asked.
You were a bit behind him, but he stopped instantly and turned to face you.
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
Your little bit of confidence quickly vanished. You avoided his gaze, focusing suddenly on your shoes. “Um, are you busy? It’s not really that important so if you have something else to do it can wait.”
He fought the urge to smirk. “I was just going to Lily’s little study group, but it can wait. Is something wrong?”
You shook your head and looked up at him, those big innocent eyes staring into his. “No uh... nothing's wrong. It’s just about... well... you know.”
“About what?”
“You know...”
“I don’t think I do love, you’re gonna have to use your words and tell me.”
He felt bad for teasing you, but it was too fun not to. The way your cute little eyes looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was around, the way you fidgeted, it was far too entertaining to stop. A moment passed before you finally spoke in a much softer tone than before.
“It’s about what we talked about at the party last weekend.”
“Oh?” He questioned. “What about it?”
He watched as you slid the ring up and down your finger. “You said um if I ever wanted to you know, indulge, that I could come to you.”
“Yes, I did say that.”
“So... um yeah,” you said. You looked almost uncomfortable. He knew he needed to be nicer.
“Are you asking if that offer is still there?”
You nodded eagerly. “Yes! I mean, um, is it?”
He glanced around to make sure nobody else was around before stepping closer to you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your mouth parted ever so slightly. He touched his fingers to your chin, lifting your head gently.
“How about you come find out?”
You didn’t fight it. He was glad.
Not too long after that, Remus found himself in a position he’d desperately wanted for almost a month. You were laid out on his bed, open like a flower, and he was on top of you. Your robe, shirt, and tie were thrown to the floor. He kissed you hard, the reward of your gasps kept him going. He let one of his hands travel up your soft thigh, you were so warm, so inviting. It took all his self-control to keep him from moving too fast.
Before it began, you told him you had only ever snogged. That meant no boy had ever touched you. Not with a hand, not with his tongue, nothing. No one had ever even felt up your breasts. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleased with the information. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be as many of your firsts as he could be.
“Can I touch you?” He eventually whispered on your skin; his lips were by your ear.
“Yes, please,” you replied, your breath ragged.
He continued to press soft kisses to your neck as his hand moved between your thighs. You were wet, very wet. He could feel it through your panties. It made him even harder than he already was. He slid his hand under your panties and began to rub soft circles on your clit, you gasped and lifted your hips in response.
You were perfect.
With every flick of his fingers, you let out little whimpers and moans, and one of your hands gripped his shoulder hard. He caught a few glances of your face between kisses. Your cheeks were red, your eyes squeezed shut. You were beyond beautiful.
After a few minutes, he moved his fingers down to your entrance. He made sure to collect your wetness and ask if it was alright before he began to slowly push one of his fingers inside you.
“Remus,” you mumbled as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace. “Fuck.”
“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?” He asked.
You lightly shook your head. “It feels so good, do not stop.”
“Do you want another one?”
“Yes.”
He complied instantly and added a second finger. You responded just the way he wanted. In only a few more minutes he was fucking you with his fingers, touching that spot inside that made your thighs clench around him. He kissed you hard, he loved how you struggled to kiss him back. When he also began to press his thumb to your clit, you became a mess.
“Fuck Rem, I-” You paused, your nails dug into his shoulder.
“You’re close.” It was a statement; he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. He knew you weren’t going to last much longer.
“I am,” you practically whimpered.
“Let go, love, it’s alright.”
Only seconds later you did. You came hard. Your back arched off the mattress, your mouth hung open wide, and your thighs tightened around his hips. Remus had never felt anything as good as the feeling of your walls pulsating around his fingers as you came undone beneath him. He made sure to keep going till you were fully done. At that point, he pulled his hand out of your panties and up to his lips. He knew you were going to taste good.
You sat up, breathless. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just- you just- we just... I’m going to hell.”
“Relax, it’ll be fine. People do this all the time and nothing bad happens, I promise it’s just a normal thing,” he said. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, he thought you looked so beautiful. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried about being judged or anything, I’m worried because I don’t feel guilty. I should feel guilty for it but I just... don’t. In fact, I think I...” You looked down at your hand, specifically the ring. “I think I want more.”
Remus couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips. “More?”
“Yeah, I mean it’s only right that I return the favor.” He watched your eyes move to his pants; your cheeks turned red. “You’ll have to show me how though.”
“Alright, only if, you’re sure. Don’t feel like you have to because I did something for you,” he replied though he really did want you to touch him. But he could wait if he had to.
“I want to.”
He didn’t question you further. Instead, he guided you through the process of getting him off with your hand. You were a fast learner, though the act itself wasn’t that hard to get the hang of. He found it funny the way you gasped at the size of him. Merlin, you were so innocent. Either way, you made him feel extraordinary. Your hand was much softer than his, and warmer too. You touched him gently, almost teasingly. But that changed fast.
“Can I try something else?” You asked, your hand stopped.
He almost groaned from the lack of motion. “What?”
“Um, can I try using my um...” You pointed to your lips.
“Your mouth?”
“Yeah.”
How could he ever refuse?
It was sloppy, it was rushed, but it was everything he could’ve wanted. As he laid back on the pillows, one of his hands moved through your soft hair. He didn’t dare push you. No. He only stroked your hair gently and whispered praises. He knew you liked it from the way you hummed on his cock each time he told you how good you were doing or how good you made him feel. And when you looked up at him with those eyes, those damn innocent eyes, he could barely contain himself.
He was shocked you even did it to begin with, but he was even more shocked when you let him finish in your mouth. You had him halfway down your throat when he came, and you didn’t pull away for a second. You swallowed it all. Somehow, he became even more attracted to you than he had been before.
“Was it good?” You questioned after you pulled back. You were kneeling beside his legs, a nervous expression on your face.
He smiled. “You were amazing. Are you sure you haven’t done that before?”
“Never even saw one in real life before this,” you replied with a laugh.
“That’s hard to believe,” he said. He sat up and pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Do you want to try one more thing?”
“Depends on what thing.”
“I’ll do what you just did to me but on you,” he answered, loving the way your eyes widened at his words. Despite everything that happened already, you were still so innocent. He adored it.
“Oh yeah okay,” you spoke after a moment.
He kissed you again. “Lay down.”
You did as he said and soon it began.
He started by kissing your lips while his hands pulled your skirt and panties off, leaving you only in a bra. Once those were off, he kissed down your neck, and your chest, only pausing for a second to unclip your bra and take one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned, he stayed there for a few extra seconds. He then moved his mouth further down your body, relishing the sounds you made each time his lips made contact with your skin.
When he started to kiss up one of your thighs, you twitched. You were so sensitive, so untouched. He was obsessed with it. Every few kisses he sucked your skin to leave dark purple hickeys. He had made sure not to leave any on your skin that would be visible to the world so that no one would see the evidence of your sinful acts. But the skin that would be covered by clothing, that was his to mark.
A few minutes of this went by, and it was all on purpose. Remus could tell how eager you were for him to get on with it, but you were far too shy to tell him to do so. So, he didn’t dare touch you where you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted to hear you ask. But you said nothing, so he decided you needed a little push. He gave you one single lick then returned to your black and blue thighs.
“Remus,” you whispered. “Please.”
He looked up at you and almost felt bad. Your desperate eyes were already looking at him, he could tell how much you needed it. He didn’t wait any longer and gave you what you needed; you certainly earned it.
In all his experience with sex and everything surrounding it, Remus enjoyed pleasing his partner as anyone did. He didn’t mind going down on women, in fact, he sort of enjoyed it. At least until you. With you, he quickly realized having his head between your thighs and his tongue on your clit was not just alright, it was heavenly. He never enjoyed the taste of a girl like he enjoyed yours. You were sweet and the sounds you made as he played with you were their own type of reward.
So, it was no surprise how quickly you came undone on his tongue. He devoured you like he had been starving his whole life. Truthfully, he felt as if he had. You were spectacular. You were perfection. You were his. He was crazy about you.
After you finished, he wiped his mouth on one of your thighs before moving to lie on the bed next to you. He laid on his side facing you, his eyes examining your face. Your eyes were closed, and your cheeks were pink. Your hair was messy, and your lips were ever so slightly lifted into a smile. He swore he never saw anyone as beautiful in his life.
“I feel stupid,” you mumbled.
“Why?”
You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile then undeniable. “I should’ve taken you up on your offer sooner. Now I understand why everyone’s so mad about this stuff, it’s unbelievable.”
“You don’t regret it then?” He asked.
“How could I? You’re just... Remus I...” You turned to your side to face him fully, one of your hands pressed against his chest. “I think we should do this again if you’d want to of course.”
He grinned and let a hand fall to your waist, he pulled you closer, so your bodies touched. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you buried your face in his neck. For a moment he felt almost victorious, he had gotten you right where he wanted you to be. It would only be a matter of time before you let him take you fully. But then he realized, it wasn’t about taking your virginity so much anymore. He just wanted you.
“I wouldn’t want anything more,” he eventually said, then he pressed a kiss to your forehead, while the cold feeling of your ring on his chest lingered in the back of his mind.
Soon, it would be his. And so would you.
#fanfiction#remus lupin fan cast#remus lupin#remus lupin smut#marauders fandom#marauders smut#marauders fanfiction#marauders#marauders era#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#harry potter#harry potter smut#smut#purity ring#lily evans#mary macdonald#marlene mckinnon#gryffindor#i love smut#sirius black#james potter#peter pettigrew#remus x reader#james & peter & remus & sirius#remus x you#remus being remus#atyd remus#i love this so much#smutty
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† Corruption †



Read pt.1 here
†
Summary: After that fateful night when Abby stumbled into your room and began her demise, she follows you into the showers to reconcile her sins
Warnings: smut, MDNI, switch!abby!?!?, switch!reader, heavy religion play indisone, fnv, cunnilingus, dirty talk yurrrr, no use of y/n
A/N: sorry this took 4ever I just really wanted to get this right and I still don’t love it but I must feed my babies. I mightttttt make a pt.3 that’s up to yall but either way I’m going to work on some other stuff so please send in recs!! (Also I know hotels don’t have communal showers just shut up and enjoy the porn:))) 
†
Your vision went blurry, plunging you into a coma that kept your breathing synchronized until you couldn’t remember anymore. Maybe all the heavy breathing took you out, maybe God was retaliating at your corruption of his loyal follower. Either way- it was a good way to go out.
When you woke up, severely late at that, there was no sight of Abby, she was gone like the wind. In any normal case, that was what you preferred. The useless banter, awkward cuddling and sentiments were far beyond you. But this felt different- she- was different. Not in a way that you couldn’t have her, an unforbidden love tragedy, but in a way that she altered every being in you. She fucked everything you knew.
Days went by with no interaction; you both avoided each other like the plague. She probably condemned herself the moment she left; fuck she was already in suit of redemption mid orgasm. You avoided her because you knew you couldn’t stop yourself. This wasn’t her way of life- it was yours. Sure, she initiated it, but you reveled in it, got off on it, desired more.
Your thoughts were selfish, self-indulgent, downright merciless. While your days were spent avoiding your unrequited love, your nights had grown breathless as your hand was shoved deep into your panties trying to get yourself off to thoughts of Abby, to no avail. It felt like your karma for fucking God’s favorite devotee. You wished she would hear your aimless attempt, swoop in and return your favor. But she never did, of course she didn’t, she feared her own fucking reflection.
After a week of thoughtless days and sleepless nights you decided to shove the night as far back as possible, stop ruminating on the idea of her. That’s all that night was, a desperate idea of what she could be without moral. That wasn’t the Abby anyone knew, and neither did she.
Friday was terrible, there was an attack at the camp and a few soldiers were pretty bad off. Since you were the only medic, you were tasked with treating multiple injuries at once, scaling them at the urgency of attention. In a sick way, you hoped Abby was hurt. You wished you could have tended to her, even in that light, any way you could get your hands on her.
The only sight of Abby was her bringing in wounded soldiers’ bridal style into your med tent. When she first arrived, it was the first words either of you had spoken in a week, only for her to bark at you about the incident and return with additional members. After she had carried all of them in, she stood and watched you tend to them for a second before you aggressively whipped back to her with a, “I got it, stop breathing down my neck.”
You weren’t trying to be harsh with her, but the last thing you needed was her presence in the wake of this monstrosity. She had already clouded your every thought, and this was not the time to finally have her at the tips of your fingers again.
After hours of stitching, compacting, and amputating wounds you were spent. Blood trailed up and down your body, caked in sweat and dirt. You were barely mobile at this point, but the thought of going to bed decorated with the blood of your friends was unnerving.
You set off to the communal showers in the middle of the rundown hotel, it was so late at this point that you were guaranteed a peaceful shower uninterrupted by any needy suitors. You removed your blood adorned clothes, dropping them to the cold white tiled floor and started the rusty shower head.
The hot water drowns your skin as blood and dirt trail down your body into the drain, you let it soak in your tired flesh as you let the day out of you. You let your fingers run through your tangled hair when you hear a creak of the door open, causing a heavy sigh to linger out of your breath.
The last thing you wanted to do was having to entertain the presence of someone else so you decided to ignore the rustling, continuing to wash through your dirty locks.
Your peace was faltered as you left a breath coming from behind your neck, heavy in almost a pant. You feel strong hands whip you around to face your attacker, and shoved into the cold back tile of the wall sending you into a gasp. Abby stood before you, already stripped of her clothing, the water fell in between your bodies and into your open mouths.
Her hands still gripped at your waist, “touch me and don’t make a fucking sound,” she aggressively whispers low enough so no one could hear, as if it wasn’t the middle of the night, or that the water wouldn’t muffle out any noise, maybe she was that scared of being caught.
“Abby if you think this-“you begin to protest when she cuts you off by pulling you in by your waist to kiss you like a woman starved. It had only been a few days, but she gripped onto you like it had been years, years since she let herself go out of morality. You wanted to stop yourself, tell her you wouldn’t live this lie for her, but your body had a different agenda, it ached for her touch, anything she would give you.
She pulls away from you to simple mutter out a “please,” and you were convinced. It was like a parasite had wormed its way into you, you had gotten just as starved as she was. Without a beat you sunk to your knees as the water flooded your vision, the only sight was her sticky floods pooling between her muscley thighs. You attacked her pussy with your lips spewing a guttural moan out of her lips, she gripped onto your soaked hair for leverage. Her grip on your hair was almost painful but you couldn’t stop lapping her slick into your needy tongue to stop her.
Abby was already shaking from the overstimulation, you couldn’t pace yourself, you needed her to cum for your own validation, to know how much she needed you. Even if she never touched you, you were still fulfilled by the act. “F- fingers pl-ease” she says muffled by the water drenching you. You turn up to watch her plead tongue still deep into her slit, mascara running down your face as the water pelleted your eyes.
“D-ont look at me like th- this,” her mouth agape, she looked like she was crying, maybe she was, maybe it was the hot steam. You run a fat strip from her leaky hole up to her clit never leaving her gaze, she couldn’t look away and neither would you. “What are you going to do if I don’t Anderson?” You say with a cocky smirk and drive your tongue deep into her cunt again making her shake.
With an angered grunt you feel your hair being pulled up so that you’re back to your feet, you let out a wince from the pain before she throws you back onto the tiles, this time you had been too worked up to feel the chill of them on your skin. She places her left hand onto the titles next to your head, the veins in her arms bulging from using them to pull all of your body weight by your hair.
Her chest is flesh with yours that you can feel your bodies breath’s heave back and forth, eyes drilling into each other. “Fingers.” She demands. You didn’t realize you were so in shock by her aggression your hands were pinned at your sides, you moved them down her chest slowly, feeling every chiseled-out crevasse on her. Her breath only becomes more rapid as you draw your fingers closer to her aching cunt.
She whimpers out a “fuck,” as your fingers reattach to her clit, rubbing slow enough to relieve the pain but not enough to get her off. You watch as her head finally drops, and her arm shakes next to your head. Her cross was laid messily on her chest, flipped backwards, you hold back laughter as you think to yourself how God couldn’t watch this right now.
“You like getting fucked by a girl huh Anderson?” You dip your head closer so that you’re in her ear now, “you touch your little pussy every night since I made you cum, yeah?” You taunt and tease her as she whimpers into your ear. “St-op it,” she begs with her head nuzzled into the crook of your neck in a way to almost hide herself.
“Its okay baby, tell me how much you like getting fucked like a godless whore,” you start to circle her clit harder and faster so you can watch how much she likes it. All she can spit out in return is a desperate “fuckkkk,” and you know you’ve broken her. “D- don’t let me cum- I- I don’t deserve it,” she moves her head so you can see her now and begins panting on your lips.
“oh no Im going to enjoy watching you break again,” you say back with a wide grin, reveling in her desperation. You’re ready to dip your fingers into her dripping folds when you feel her free hand travel up your thigh. Her hand finally meets your cunt and she grips it harshly causing you to buck your hips into it.
“A- abby what are you d-doing?” Every emotion hitting you like a ton of bricks. Why was she touching you? This wasn’t her thing, not her job, that was your job. Would you be able to stop her? Control yourself? Let her have you? Why did she feel so fucking good when she was barely touching you?
She continues pulsing her palm into your aching cunt, “just let me try,” she breathes out against your soaked lips. Your fingers begin faltering at her clit, you try continuing your pace but it slows as her palm rubs against you.
She follows your lead by tracing her thick fingers through your slick folds, you bite down on your bottom lip to hold back from exposing yourself. When she begins circling your clit you can’t help but to whimper a choked out, “fuck just like that,” she was doing so well already.
She seemed pleased by her work, letting out a moan that followed your own. She was getting off on your pleasure instead of her own at this point.
You are barely able to keep your pace on her clit anymore, so engulfed by the feeling of her rough fingers on your swollen clit. She removes her fingers from your clit to move your hand off of her own clit, moving it so your palm lay against her chest.
She returns her fingers back so that only you are being pleased by her. You couldn’t believe that this was the first time she had done it, she felt like she was made to touch you, circling your bud like it would bring her to salvation.
Words were barely at the forefront of your mind at this point but you needed to ask her, “di- did you do all of- fuckkkk- ju- just to fuck me?”
She pierces her bright blue eyes into yours to make herself clear, “I worship you,” she says as she dips her long, thick ring and middle fingers deep into your cunt, immediately inching your g spot. The palm of her hand grazing your clit to give just enough friction.
All you can muster up to respond with is a guttural scream that rips through you, causing to use the hand that was placed on the wall to cover your mouth quickly. “Shhhh pretty girl I know I know,” she coos.
You bring her fingers into your mouth for leverage, anything to keep you from losing all control. Her pace quickens as she feels your walls clenching around her dripping fingers. How the fuck does she know you’re close.
As you begin nearing your climax, your mind runs free from all morality, she begin corrupting you just the same, driving out what you knew and replacing it with only her.
You didn’t even know you were doing it, not until she moved her fingers out of your mouth to understand you, “abbyabbyabbyabbyabby” with your eyes rolled, head slack on the tiles you begin worshiping her, praising her ever being like a mantra.
What brought you back to consciousness was the heavy breath and the ringing of your own name in a mantra beside your ear. You had never repented before, but she had begun her reconciliation along with you. If this were to be your religion, you’d give into her over and over again. At your knees to serve her, punished at your wrong doings and give penance for your sins.
“Serve me with your completion, give your god what she deserves,” she demands. You couldn’t disobey your savior, she showed your needy body mercy, and you must obey her.
It all hits you like a wave, all you can see is white as your body trembles under her. You can’t recall screaming but she moves her hand over your mouth. Your entire body shakes as she rides you over your high, kissing your forehead as you bite into her fingers, never letting up on her pace until she knows you can’t take it anymore.
As all of your limbs give out she slowly moves her fingers out of your abused pussy, picking you up before you fall straight into the hard tiles. She gently places you onto the tiles in front of her, holding you by your waist as the water floods from above you.
You try to mumble out something but she stops you with a quick “shhh I’m going to take care of you,” as she begins to wash out your hair gently. You lean your head into the crook of her neck and she lays peppered kisses from your shoulder to your neck.
“Please don’t run off again…” you muster up as she threads her fingers through your hair, “you’re all I know.”
“You’re all I have.”
Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson2
#abby anderson#the last of us#abby anderson smut#abby anderson tlou2#abby angst#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x fem!reader#abby x reader#sub abby
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Forgive me

Relationship: Priest Gerard way x afab reader
Tags: smut, priest kink, first time, making out, moaning, dirty talk, hand jobs, semi-public sex, love bites, Catholic guilt, fingering if you squint, SHAMEEE, using the Lords name in vain, a little bit of angst?, calling him father (sexually), unprotected sex, corruption kink?, nipple stuff
Summary: Y/n has been having some unholy thoughts since befriending and crushing on her priest, so she decides to go confess and uuhhh things don't exactly go as planned...
A/N: HELLO I FINALLY FINISHED IT! i just wanna preface this with the fact that i dont know JACK SHIT about churches or priests or anything of the sort. Therefore if i fuck something up or its super inaccurate THEN IM SORRY!!!!! also this isnt proofread lol sorry
Word count: 3344
Fic under cut - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You weren’t too sure whether you bought religion all too much but there was one thing that kept you going back to church (no, not the catholic guilt.) The super hot priest leading all the services of course.
You knew that practically and realistically nothing would ever happen, but what was the harm in a little eye candy for you on a Sunday. Aside from his great looks, he was genuinely a great guy - you had spoken to him after mass once and from then on the two of you got to know each other, becoming good friends. He was younger than most priests so he was easy to talk to and his name was Gerard.
To you he was perfect: funny, kind and totally sexy - if you were ignoring the elephant in the room. You knew priests didn’t have relationships - you knew they didn’t have sex, but that wasn’t enough to discourage the little crush on him you could feel forming. Maybe you were being deluded but you could’ve sworn he felt something too. You felt it in the eye contact he held for just a few moments too long every time and in his unprompted invitations for coffee together and how he blushed slightly when he asked you. Of course you had to wake yourself up from all that - he’s just being kind and welcoming, that’s basically half his job.
Lately however, you had been struggling to repress these thoughts about him - in fact they had been getting worse (and far more sexual) by the day. It was getting out of hand so you decided you needed to confess. To Gerard or to God? You hadn’t quite figured that out yet.
It was late on a Friday night when you pulled up outside the church, you knew Gerard would be there - he always was around this time. You didn’t exactly know what he did in his alone time but you assumed it consisted of sitting in the pews, contemplating and admiring the grand stained glass windows. You were surprised, however, to find him up on the sanctuary leaning on the altar. He was facing the cross but he had his head hung low, hair cascading over his face. He didn’t notice you come in, so when you walked over and said his name it startled him slightly as he whipped around to face you.
“Oh hey y/n! I- uh- I didn’t expect you here, whats the matter?” He exclaimed - still a little shaken from your mini jump-scare. You noticed he was acting a little off - he was avoiding eye contact, nervously pushing back his hair and you could’ve sworn he was blushing (but in the dim light of the church it was hard to tell.) It felt like you had caught him doing something he didn’t want you to know about.
“Are you okay?” You asked, ignoring his question due to your concerns.
“Yeah,yeah I’m fine, you just caught me in the middle of my confession that’s all. Uhh what are you here for?”
“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m here to confess something too actually”
“Cool, do you wanna go into the-“ He lifted his hand to gesture towards the confessional before you cut him off.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” You blurted out without even thinking. Gerard stopped dead in his tracks. He began stuttering and stumbling over his words (if you could even class it as words they were so broken). Naturally, you did the only thing you could think of to shut him up…
You stepped towards him and kissed him on the lips. You weren’t expecting that kind of confession from yourself and judging by his wide eyes and slack jaw, neither was he. Despite the shock of what you did, you both stayed deathly still, searching for answers in eachothers eyes. Nothing but the sound of your breaths filled the church but with the shame you felt, you could’ve screamed.
“Im so sorry, I should just go-“ you were actively turning to leave when Gerard cut you off.
“I can’t stop thinking about you either” he whispered, putting his hands on your waist to stop you from leaving - his grip was light and hesitant but firm enough to keep you in place. He couldn’t quite believe what he was doing, he knew the rules and he’d never even thought about going against them until you. You were worth it to him. “What do you think I was confessing hm? Every time I see you I just wanna give up my chastity right there and then. You don’t know what you fucking do to me.” By the end of his sentence his whispers had morphed into a low growl, you’d never heard him curse like that and god was it hot. He had broken eye contact and hung his head in shame of his dirty confession. You lifted his chin with your index finger so you could stare deeply into his eyes once more.
“Please Father...” You spoke in a hushed whisper, gazing up at him through your lashes. His eyes widened slightly, and only momentarily, but just enough for you to catch the look in his eyes. Contained in that one subconscious movement, you saw the sinful cocktail of horror and lust that filled him. You could tell he’d had some sort of realisation but you couldn’t place what it could be.
Oh-
Calling him father turned him on.
Time stood still, seconds felt like years, both of you too scared to move and lose this tension. Deep down, you knew it was wrong - and so did he - but in this moment you didn’t want to accidentally come to your senses. As more and more of these weighted seconds passed, your faces drew closer and closer as if there was a cosmic pull between you. Breathing gradually becoming faster and heavier with silence growing louder, you could hardly contain your unholy thoughts. One in particular making your breath hitch at the mere idea - finally breaking the ever-growing tension.
Suddenly, Gerard’s hands flew from your sides up to your face - lips crashing into yours with unbearable desperation. It was like he had never touched anyone like this before in his life - because he hadn’t. His grip on your face was strong like he was trying to drink every inch of you before he died of thirst. The kiss was messy and untamed, inexperienced too but far more passionate than you’d had before. He wasn’t shy to let his tongue roam around your mouth, his eyes scrunched tightly shut as if trying not to wake up from this dream he was living. Trying not to remember where and who he was. In that moment all he knew was you.
Gerard was clearly not holding back - letting out any moans, whimpers and groans that threatened to emerge from his throat like a horny teenage boy. He had gotten a taste of you and he wasn’t going to stop there. From a priest, you had expected a soft, gentle, caring touch much like his regular demeanour. This was far from that. He was filled with pure, pent up, desperation. The fact he was doing it with you - the girl he had not long ago repented for all his unholy thoughts about - only fuelled his loving lust further.
Gerard’s hands slid back down towards your waist - this time with no reminiscence of his former hesitance - digging his fingers into your flesh and pulling you impossibly close. The force making you hum a moan into his lips, only causing him to groan louder and grip you tighter. You were sure it would leave a mark. With your new proximity you could feel the outline of his erection against your pelvis. You started to grind against him, subtly trying to gauge his size.
Fuck.
You let out a whimpering moan. You weren’t sure if you could even take him but you knew you needed it. Now. You broke the kiss to speak “Please- �� drunk on your lips Gerard pulled you back into the kiss almost immediately and you chuckled at his impatience. “Please- “ you broke out again but Gerard insisted on kissing you between every word.
“Touch- Me- Father- “ you managed to get out between kisses - using his title again because you loved what it did to him. He spun you both around so you were leaning slightly on the altar for support. He didn’t seem to notice as he was so occupied on you, but to you being on the altar felt so wrong it was perfect. Just like every corruption fantasy you’d ever had about Gerard - practically defiling the altar felt so erotic and leaving your mark on his swollen lips turned you on more than you could tell. He began to move his kisses to your jaw, pecking all the way up to your ear, inhaling sharply through his nose, taking in your scent.
“God I’ve been thinking about you like the for so long” Despite everything he had already gone against this evening, his blasphemy still caught you off guard. Things had changed so quickly and you were scared he was acting off of impulse rather than true desire.
“Gerard- Ah- Are you sure?” His only response to your question was a series of hums of agreement and arousal, sucking a spot below your ear that made your whole body tingle. “Gerard-“ you continued, trying to be considerate but being cut off by your own moans. Gerard didn’t seem to share your concern, muffled an against your skin he began to speak.
He placed a sloppy kiss in between your collarbones and you felt a shift in his demeanour. He brought his head up to rest his forehead on yours. There was a quiet moment, both of you allowing your breathing to slow, occasionally syncing up and breathing rhythmically together. “Can I… Can I take this off you?” He somewhat nervously tugged at the hem of your shirt. His words were cautious - nervous even - you remembered that this wasn’t just his first time, he was going against the thing he built his life around for you.
“Call me father.” If you weren’t soaking wet already, that sure would’ve done it. The last inkling of hesitation from within you was long gone with his request and you threw your head back finally letting go - calling out his title just as he had requested. With your head back Gerard had access to whole new areas of your neck and collarbones. You were leaning back on one hand so you brought the other up to rake through his hair, encouraging his kisses and pulling him closer - much to his liking. You let out a gasping moan as he sucked a sweet spot - there was no way all these hickeys were going anywhere anytime soon but you were far too aroused to think about what people would think about you here on Sunday.
“Please” you said reassuringly running your hands through his hair and pulling him in for one more kiss before his hands snaked under your top. He pulled his head away from yours for what felt like the first time in years and lifted the top over your head - tossing the garment into the pews of the church. He took a moment ogling at the sheer sight of your body. Admiring it and committing every small detail to memory. He reached out to rake his hands up your sides then over your boobs.
He reached behind you, struggling to unclasp your bra - you let out a small giggle and helped him out, pulling it off and leaving you fully exposed in the cold church air. The chill that caused your nipples to harden was short lived as Gerard took one nipple sloppily into his warm, wet mouth. If you thought he couldn’t moan any more than he already had, you were dead wrong. The way he was getting off on worshipping your body could’ve made you finish right then. He used one hand to grope your other breast, occasionally squeezing and stimulating your nipple. His other hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you steady. Strings of moans escaped your mouth, for someone with absolutely no experience, he caught on very quickly how to please you.
While he was occupied you took the opportunity to remove your trousers and shift to sit fully on the altar. You gently gripped Gerard’s wrist and guided his hand from the small of your back, down towards your pussy. With only your underwear as a barrier, Gerard palmed you through them. He broke his contact with your boob to stare down at the mess you had made of your underwear, soaking was an understatement. Pupils blown wide; whimpering breaths; jaw hanging open - maybe he was a bigger mess than you were.
“Fuck your so wet” He groaned as he continued to feel you through your soaked pants, his middle finger occasionally running right along your slit giving your clit a taste of some much needed friction. Gerards eyes flicked up and down almost rapidly - unsure whether to look down there or up at your face contorting with pleasure as he grazed over your sweet spot. Wherever he was looking, he was taking in and analysing your reactions to quickly learn what made you tick.
“Please father, I need you” You said, getting a little impatient with all Gerard’s teasing. He wanted to give you what you wanted and started to unbutton his shirt. That was before you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No! Keep that on… I like it” You said, giving him a faux-innocent look and hooking your finger over his clerical collar, hoping he’d get the memo.
“Was that your plan all along?” He asked teasingly, reaching down to unbuckle his belt instead. “Did you come here just to fuck your priest hm?” You were absolutely stunned by his questions. Your jaw dropped and you nodded hesitantly. “You’re so fucking dirty” He said huskily, finally letting his cock spring free from his boxers. You were in complete awe of his size and you practically moaned at the sight- you thought about what a waste it was for him to be celibate with a dick like that, well not anymore you supposed.
His dick was so hard it almost looked painful, it was completely flushed with the tip even more so and he already had beads of precum rolling down his length (you also spotted a wet patch on his boxers from it.) You reached out to touch him, going gently at first, and he hissed at the contact. You pumped your hand up and down a few more times, falling into a steady rhythm making Gerard’s head fall back. With his head back like that, you could see his slight stubble and you wanted absolutely nothing more than to mark him up with some pretty lovebites that he’d struggle to hide tomorrow. You decided against it but still planted some lighter kisses on his neck.
Gerards moans were becoming increasingly loud and more frequent and just then he gripped your wrist to stop your rhythm. “Fuck-“ He whimpered trying to catch his breath. “Let me fuck you.”
“Please” you whined in response. Gerard hooked his finger around your underwear, pulling them to the side. “Forgive me” he whispers so quietly you barely caught it, before he lined himself up and plunged into you. Both of you groaned at the new sensation. He was still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size as you clenched around him. Eventually, he drew back for the first time and pushed back in. You could never even describe the pleasure it brought you - even at the achingly slow pace he started at.
With each slow thrust, whimpers escaped his throat - they morphed into whines as he gradually sped up. You couldn’t tell if he was gaining confidence in his movements or just speeding up out of bare desperation. Every time he grazed the sweet spot that made you clench around him, he strived harder to hit it again - the added stimulation driving him crazy. You made an effort to hold eye contact with him, watching his face contort with pleasure he’d never felt before could’ve made you orgasm right then. You felt fucking incredible but you need just a little more.
“Fast- fuck- Faster Father” you moaned out, mouth agape staring into his blown pupils. Gerard obliged, hooking his arms around your thighs - he did it with the intention of keeping you steady, but what it did was create a whole new angle into of you. Each roll of his hips felt about ten times better, he was hitting all the right places at just the right speed. The altar was now creaking loudly beneath you, reminding you of where you were (which honestly only spurred you on.)
With the new angle and speed you could feel your core tightening - climax growing closer. You leaned in, capturing his lips in another messy and untamed kiss. Your walls squeezed tighter around him, practically milking him at this point. You slipped your hand between the two of you to stroke circles on your clit and you noticed every few thrusts Gerard’s hips would falter slightly - he was getting close too.
With your fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside of you and the thought of how wrong this was, your orgasm crashed over you in a wave. Your screams of pleasure funnelled straight into his mouth. Gerard was still pushing into you, chasing his own orgasm. Your pussy spasmed around him and his hips stuttered.
“Fuck somethings happening- I- Oh my god- Where do I-“ Gerards words spilled out. It was such a foreign feeling to him and he had never felt better.
“Cum in me Father” you whined out, still in the aftershocks of your orgasm - overstimulated and almost hazy. Gerard complied moaning and whining, his thrusts had almost no rhythm now as you felt ropes of his white, hot cum spill into you. “Oh, God.” He moaned out as he filled you with the last of his cum. Was he talking to you or god? You couldn’t quite tell.
Both of you were spent, coming down from your peaks and you rested your heads on each other’s shoulders - him still inside of you. The room felt eerily quiet without the sounds of sex - just the same heavy breathing this all started with. After about a minute he pulled out (eliciting one last groan from the both of you), tucked himself back into his boxers and did up his belt. He turned to walk away and you were scared for a second that he was leaving but he went to retrieve your clothes that were carelessly discarded into the pews. He cleaned you up and helped you get dressed, neither of you said a word.
You felt so guilty, sure the thought of corrupting him like that was what turned you on in the moment, but now - even after he had broken his celibacy for you - he was taking the time to make sure you were clean, dressed and okay. It just reminded you why you liked him, he was genuinely a great guy, he never had bad intentions and he was so caring. You were sure you’d never be able to see him again after this and just the thought upset you.
He had an almost sorrowful, clearly pensive, look on his face - probably trying to figure out what’s gonna happen now. Ideally he would just repent and break contact with you, but could he really give you up now? After he got exactly what he’s been dreaming about? He really wasn’t sure.
You decided you needed to break this silence you were sat in, once you were dressed, you got to your feet and looked up into his eyes. “What do we do now?” You asked - almost tearing up a little.
“I- I don’t know”
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A/N: thanks so much for reading! please let me know what you thought + if I made any mistakes :p
#m1lkyway fics#this is also up on ao3!#gerard way x reader#gerard way fanfiction#priest gerard#mcr fanfiction#fan fic writing#ao3#mcr#gerard way#my chemical romance
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marriage in the eleventh hour, my beloved au, finally has enough to post (!!!!!) so you get scott ref's as a treat :3
plot (+ rest of scott designs) below cut!
ok so to preface - some of the stuff gets a little brushed/not super in depth over in this plot description (xornoth and scott's complicated feelings about family and each other, Scott's relationship with religion, jimmy's backstory kinda, literally all of the torture stuff, some Jimmy and Scott stuff, gem and scott's dynamic and the corrupted trio's relationships- BUT this is the basics and I will be elaborating more in the future!!!) okay that said here's my insanity
current scott designs - kidnapped, in pj's, and healing arc :') (pj's ref is for a scene prior to kidnapping!!! they deserve to have really silly and sad late night convos i think)
uhm. also you can literally see when my hand started hurting with this plot description HELP


so that's the basic plot! send asks if you want me to yap about anything in this au :D (also yes before anyone asks i'm gonna type this up later so dw if you can't read it-)
character info :


also, feel free to send asks (pleasepleaseplease-) I love this au SO MUCH. some stuff might change in the future since it's still in the works but it's gonna be a fic at some point! okay thank you for listening to me be insane <3
#eleventh hour marriage#scott smajor#esmp#empires smp 1#xornoth#flower husbands#my art#empires shipping#tumblr killed the quality oh well#what else can i tag this with#geminitay#kinda? she plays a big role and I also love her here but she's not mentioned much here since her plot is like. just fully separate LMAO#her and Scott are parallels in how they handle the fear of their siblings btw#jimmy solidarity#ok thank for for listening to me be crazy heart emoji#eh!scott#eh!jimmy
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Somehow I have made it this long without realizing that none of the screen adoptions of Dune so much as mention the Butlerian Jihad. Like I guess it's burned into my brain so hard I sort of assumed it was part and parcel of the universe. Don't get me wrong, I think that's probably the first thing you learn if you want to dive deeper into the setting, but it still hits me like if the LotR movies showed us the big flaming eyeball tower and was like ‘Oh, that's why there are bad things, but don't worry, that's just background stuff.’ Yeah, you can understand the movie, but if the story is just like Frodo vs. The Witch King you are losing out on any of the conversation about the corruptive allure of power or theological undertones. So without further ado let's pretend this is for the benefit of interested new fans roped in by the movies and not part of my desperate attempt to silence the howling specters of literary analysis that live in my blood.
The Butlerian Jihad is an event set ~10k years prior to the events of Dune in which humanity won their freedom from the machines that they had enslaved themselves to. As a result, it is a religious taboo to create a machine that thinks like a human. That's frankly the bulk of the information presented by Frank Herbert in the text without dipping into books 7+, but whether or not those are canon is frankly an enormous can of worms, which really makes sense when you consider the size of the worms. But boy howdy, Frank loved his subtext and parallelism. Everyone has a foil character, every theme is hit from multiple angles, and Villinueve has been doing an excellent job of capturing a lot of that in repeated imagery and dialogue. The Butlerian Jihad happens off camera, but it's themes are absolutely critical to the big picture.
The Butlerian Jihad was a holy war. It was not merely a rebellion against the machines, it was a crusade against them. The prohibition against thinking machines isn't just a law, it's in the pan-universal Bible. Absolute psychopath Pieter DeVries himself claps back at the Baron for insinuating he might have a use for a computer, and this is a guy who has been hired specifically for his preternatural absence of morals. Let's hold onto that idea for a minute.
Probably my favorite scene in the first book is the one where planetologist Liet-Kynes is dying out in the desert. As the last of his strength fades to dehydration he hallucinates conversations he had with his father concerning terraforming Arakkis for human habitability. He's told that the means are not complicated. There is already enough water on the planet, the Little Makers just have it all trapped deep underground as part of the sandworm reproductive cycle. You just need to isolate enough water to start irrigating plant life, and once it's established that'll keep the water on the surface on its own. The hard part is making sure everyone on the planet is environmentally conscious enough to foster a developing ecosystem. Nobody can drink any of that water while it's being collected, because they'll just introduce it back into the water cycle where the Little Makers are. It's going to take generations, so that sort of water discipline is going to have to go above and beyond a social convention. People need to be willing to die before they'll take a sip and compromise the plan. Ghost Dad Kynes concludes that the only mechanism in the human experience to enforce this consensus is religion.
In the context of this whole parallelism thing, you have probably noticed that the Butlerian Jihad is not the only holy war in the narrative. Paul sees a new jihad as the only way of creating a future where humans can flourish. Now you might be saying ‘Wait now, Machines. I thought the point of Paul’s holy war was to avenge Leto and disempower established power structures by taking away the control of the spice!’ And you’d be right. The thing is, without getting into spoiler territory, Dune Messiah is not going to be about how everything just gets so much better now that Paul has destroyed the economy, government, and untold billions of human lives. This isn’t the endgame. Dude can see the future and the way he does it involves looking into the past. Paul lives in a society defined by a holy war and his goal is to redefine society.
Putting it all together you can see what I mean about the Butlerian Jihad being essential to the themes even though the story never shows us a thinking machine or a narrative beat where the absence of computers changes the outcome. It helps us see the big picture. I’ve seen a lot of dialogue lately on whether Paul is a tragic hero or a consummate villain and I’m not here to answer that, but I am here to underline the critical detail. Paul intends to be seen as a tyrant. Just like Kynes’ hallucination says, religion is the lever to make a value stick around forever. He wants to traumatize humanity to hate chosen ones and emperors the same way the machines traumatized humanity to change them forever. The Water of Life ritual doesn’t invert his values, it lets him realize these visions of war are the means, not the ends. He is absolutely not happy about it, but this is Paul’s terrible purpose.
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Archangel Raphael
Is it Crowley? Is it Aziraphale?
What if I said he is the both of them?

I know a little out there thing to say but it’s a theory i’ve had hanging around in the back of my head for a while now because the thing is,
Crowley seems to have held the rank Raphael has but Aziraphale shows more of his actions.
These two theories have been around for a while and at no point am I trying to take away from what people have put together. This is just for fun and silly purposes. and I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve had this theory for a while and just didn’t know how to put it in words so it might not be the best.
But let’s just start with who is Archangel Raphael
Raphael

The Angelic Prince of Healing
Well let’s start at the beginning, or well before the beginning.
According to the Midrash Konen, before he was Raphael he was the angel Libbiel.
In this God gathers all their angels before Adam is created and hears their opinions. While some angels praised God for their creation others spoke out against it. The Angel of Love and the Angel of Justice were both in favor while the Angel of Truth and the Angel of Peace both objected.
For this the Angel of Truth is cast out Heaven by God. God then summoned a band of angels under Michael, Gabriel, and Libbiel. Both of the bands under Michael and Gabriel scornfully called out against the creation of man and were too cast out. Libbiel seeing what happened to those bands warned his own to call out in favor of creation of man and thus was rewarded with the new name, Raphael, for his efforts.
Raphael, the rescuer, Angelic prince of Healing.
This is just one story of Raphael, if we take a step outside religion but still the very important book, Paradise Lost by John Milton, we can find Raphael there as well.
He is the angel that comes to Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden to warn them against temptation. Through him we hear about the rebellion and war in Heaven. He eats with Adam and Eve and doesn’t just directly quote God but rather shares his own views and opinions.
An interesting and very important take on Raphael but let’s just jump back into the religious stuff.
In the First Book of Enoch he is the angel over the spirits of men and set over all diseases and wounds. He was instructed to bind Azazel and heal the Earth that has been corrupted by the Watchers.
In the bible Raphael was one of the three angels that appeared to Abraham in the oak grove of Mamre. His task was the heal Abraham and save Lot. (Genesis)
Though not identified with name he is credited to be the angel who periodically stirred the pool of Bethesda (John)
His main story though comes from the Book of Tobit. He acts as a guide on Tobias’s journey to Sarah disguised as a human peasant. On this journey they gut a fish that they then end up later using to expel the demon, Asmodus, and heal his father, Tobit. This is the story where most of his depictions come from including the one above.
In Jewish text, under the name Israfil, he is depicted as the angel who stands eternally with a trumpet on his lips waiting and ready to announce the day of judgement.
Wooh that was a quick run down. (pls correct me if any of this was wrong) But moving on for now.
Title Sequence
Disclaimer: Not main supporting evidence. Secondary at best. Really just something interesting that didn’t fit anywhere else.
Now before we get into how this all connects in the show I wanted to make stop to point out something from the s1 TS that I have never been able to explain away.



Both of them getting sucked up into the spaceship and then it burst into fish.
Fish huh? Interesting…
Gabriel’s Trial
This is the part that gives us some of the biggest pieces of evidence for a Very Highranking AngelCrowley.
Before we even get to the trial we have Crowley able to get into the file that only a throne, dominion, or above could access.
Then we have Gabriel saying he is “the only first order archangel in the room, or yknow the universe” with the immediate cut to Crowley. Visually this is a very obvious signal that this is something to pay attention to, foreshadowing that something is not right with this statement.
The clip above also gives us that this being would have been considered a Prince of Heaven.
Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, and the last three kinda vary. But we are just going to focus on these four anyway since that seems to be the number the show likes.
The only one missing from those four is Raphael and it seems that the Metatron still holds quite the grudge and memory of this being….*cut to Metatron glaring at Crowley*
But there is also something else we learn in this Trial.
That the name Gabriel is tied to his angelic status, a name he was about to lose along with his memories. A name he does end up losing while he doesn’t have his memories, getting replaced with Jim.
But one thing I did want to mention in this section before leaving, even if it didn’t happen during Crowley’s trip to Heaven, was when Michael says “there is always a Supreme Archangel.”
All of this has some very interesting implications of what happened in the past, and let’s not forget that Aziraphale was battling demons while all this was happening.
Now though that this has all been laid out let’s get into the meat of this.
Aziraphale and Crowley
yknow for this being about them I haven’t talked about them a lot lol. But let’s start at the beginning of them, the time one became two.
Originally they were written as one character, a fallen angel, until it was eventually changed into the two characters we know and love, Aziraphale and Crowley.
Now I’m not claiming to know what was going on in their heads during the creation process, just that the absence of a single prominent archangel when they were originally a single character is…interesting.
but that’s what got me thinking.
In Before the Beginning there doesn’t really seem to be a rank system more along the lines of groups that have certain jobs in the creation process of the universe. Not saying there wasn’t a ranking system but I doubt it was as large and complex as it is in present day.
However there is no denying the parallels that Gabriel and Crowley play to each other, particularly with their Angelic Ranking.
So what I’m proposing is that yes, Crowley was a very high ranking angel, perhaps on the same level as Gabriel - an angel named Raphael.
But he Fell, his name taken away from him in the process and he became Crawley.
With this though it left a space open, a Raphael shaped space up in Heaven and History. The Job of who Raphael was supposed to be.
A job that another certain angel seems to take up through his actions, Aziraphale.
Aziraphale’s name quite literally means “helper of Raphael” which technically he did do when he helped start up the star factory.
but even in that moment it was the two of them doing a job that was supposed to be only meant for one.
It’s a theme they continue throughout their years together, they cancel each other out, they take to doing each others jobs that never tip off the other side. They are the most powerful when they are working together, helping to stop Armageddon and the 25 Lazarii miracle they perform together. Two sides of the same, single coin.
The spot for Raphael was only meant to be held by one, the place Crowley held before the Fall. The place Aziraphale took up in the aftermath. There is always a Raphael.
However one does not just lose the power of being a first order archangel hence why Crowley is still so powerful.
The only one to realize this - The Metatron and well probably God too. Hence the need for at least Aziraphale back up in Heaven, as well as just keeping an eye on him.
and this really all just makes me want to point out that after Armageddon was diverted and they were out there on the bench and Crowley asks if God,
“Planned it all like this, very beginning.”
and I can’t help but say, yes. Two angels designed for the same role, one fallen and one not. Together they are complete and bound through history. Together they are the most powerful. 
#good omens#good omens 2#aziraphale#crowley#aziracrow#good omens meta#good omens theory#good omens speculation#good omens analysis#archangel raphael#could i care less about what crowley’s angel name was? yes. this is just a silly little theory#the likely hood of this playing out is very slim
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Hey, just saw your post about Veilguard - do you mind me asking what it is that put you off? Thanks!
I can start by saying I've not played it. I'm not going to at this point. But basically, every cutscene and dialogue option and plot point I've watched. And for those of you that don't remember I was hugely critical of Inquisition despite my love for it. And I downright hated Trespasser. So this shouldnt be shocking.
And its a lot of stuff I dont like. I can make a short list of major things below, obvious spoilers.
Please dont read this if it will make you angry okay? This is a lot of angry ranting.
1. I said this with inquisition and trespassers but veilguard seals my hatred for the decision to center the entire plot of ripping apart the dalish culture and religion. I'm sorry I just don't think this is compelling. It's icky to create an oppressed and marginalized race with parallels to most indigenous cultures in the real world, and basically call them wrong and stupid for clinging to their culture and history. I don't care that validating the Enuvanris existance means also invalidating the maker and the tevinter reiligions too, or even the dwarven: the game centers this narrative on the DALISH. The entire implication that its their fault all along or they sold themselves into a cult and slavery is gross. The game could have easily done this but centered it around the Maker. Andraste as the blight corrupted crazy deity or spirit whatever the fuck. Makes more sense with how much Chantry has been shoved down our throats since origins, and given how much wider spread it is after literal genocides of the dalish, qun, etc it would just mean a lot more to target the oppressors/majority religion directly. And look listen, I'm a pretty hardcore athiest and even anti thiest. I hate all religions, I find stories about dismantling religion compelling but to couch it histories of marginalized people like... its just not great. Not to mention twisting their gods into systematic greedy people or shoving their "bestest god" into a human woman and trying to make her prostheltize at me. I don't like it!
2. I get why old decisions dont matter. The world is too big, sure. I dont mind that at all, actually, even with all the problems, it gives people invested in those choices. Im happy to accept it. But then... make the actual plot less beholden to it. Why bring in cameos at all, then? Fuck man set it 50 or 80 years later. But if you cant cause everyone wants closure in the DA fandom then give us closure. If not personal closure with wardens and hawkes and etc cause its all too variant — lore closure. We arent going to talk about how darkspawn were thinking and talking? Blight was always just a random elvhen weapon? What apparent the tevinter magisters then? What about the architect? What about the idea of darkspawn becoming their own race and culture? What about the old gods themselves they were just always enuvanris? How do magisters actually feel about that? Why did those who worshipped corypheous or the black church follow Elvhen gods, their most oppressed and hated enemy aside from the qunari?
Speaking of, what about all of us who wanted to confront Minrathous and Tevine for the atrocities we've built up about it for 3 games. Slavery? Off screen solved before we get there? Dorian fixed it all? I had a heated debate with Dorian about him saying how slavery wasnt all that bad "They like being slaves!" And so many conversations with Fenris about how horrible it is. Rape and murder and submission? We don't as players get to finally confront that?
How about red lyrium being sentient. How about it being a tool the elvhen then used to murder titans, but not its alive and unstoppable? How can anything be unblighted? Because plot?
What of the calling? What of it really? What of those in The Calling who were unblighted? nothing?
Not even a deep conversation about the murky ethics of liberation/slavery when it comes to the Antivan crows stealing children? I'm to forget that?
How about anything all to do with the Qun? How about that burnt in memory I have of Saarabas immolating himself in service to not just the system of his culture but his belief in his faith. We're writing him off as a terrorist and not as an example of the Qun? Lets be really real; they have been retconning the Qun every game till now them being a fully gender and sexual accepting society.
How about the changes of mages vs templars if and maybe they walk free now? As if that entire conflict wasnt the brewing boiling point for three games?
What about the elvhen rebellion they so rightly started after centuries or murder and racism? Can we stop pretending that rebellion isnt an act of violence and has to be? Can we stop erasing the idea that systemical upheavel can be anything other than radical? Hello? Anders is one the phone asking for you?
How about that ending, the veil isn't even torn? Spirits don't walk the earth as intended. Why not solas' plan? Why not restore order. Why not join or dissuade him as he asked us to in trespasser?
It just all feels washed off, Thedas. I'm allowed to be angry and upset that they spanned all of these topics and asked me to engage with them on a deep ethical and moral grounds only to never mention them again. I dont think making your player base feel stupid for caring is great.
3. On personal levels, Solas has been ooc since trepasser. And frankly, the explanation of his relationship with Mythal is disgusting. Made the first slave and turned from his true nature into a tool of war—and reaffirming his subservance by making it that only Mythal could stop him? How is that not a toxic dynamic, and they fram it as loving and romantic? Imagine them trying that Fenris who can only be talked down by Danerous. Come on. It should have been Lavellan — or it really should have been not at all. Let him. The devs want to destory Thedas and start over? Let solas reset time and recreate the earth and tear is all down and erase most of the history. Do it you cowards. Give me an unrecognizable DA5 where spirits and mages rule and the elvhen thrive and war with each other. Give me slaved humans and a topsy turvy all that changes remains the same reality. Why not if you want to illuminti titan everything anyway.
4. I dont believe in the veilguard, I should have a choice not to. I should have a reason to care about it or my companions or fewl some sort of reason we must all work together aside from "theyre adorable". All the other games you had companion parties in organic and believable ways. Rook is leader cause.... ? What if I dont want to be? At least my Dalish inquisitor fought tooth and nail not to be called a christian messiah. Hawke had FRIENDS. And the warden found those who knew what a blight meant. And many of all of us disagreed. Vivianne got not sympathy from me. Why should Neve? Fenris will leave your party if you waste your time when the Magister comes to town. I dont want to coddle Harding about her stupid chantry. I do not to talk to Lucanis happily about the crows. Maybe I dont want to be friendly all the time. Maybe I hate everything Bellara is doing. Or taash.
5. The writing was on the wall in inquistion hoenestly. What with Iron bull letting me decide is he mass murders his found family or not. But jesus these new companions are like 10 yrs old. I don't know you decide. Your a fucking adult. I cant take a single one of them seriously. Even Sera screamed and yelled at me if I challenged her. Solas and I almost broke up mutiple times arguing about tradition and purpose or that damn Mythal well (again and no wonder he would object to doing anything akin to being emslaved by her, only to submit himself in this game. As if the well mattered at all. As if morrigan matters at all.) I just don't feel as though I'm bonding with anyone, I'm babysitting. Im being told what a great person I am that I can teach everyone elementary school behaviorial learning. I dont want to, I dont even want to be "good".
6. Petty stuff:
I hate the art style both in the UI and the models. I hate it. And the expressions are so poor compared even to Da2.
I hate all the armors. Everyone is bulky. Hate it.
Ugly combat.
Cant control or walk around as my companions and try out other classes.
CC cant change eyes or facial structure much so all rooks heads look the same and kinda... everyone looks like a dwarf. Sorry. Imo, imo, every rook I have seen looks like a dwarf.
Dont like the music.
Dragons are ugly.
Morrigans outfit makes it look like she has 4 titties.
I hate this elvhen "steampunk" tech when so much of their magic was shown to be earthen and mystic. Dumb. No explanation as why it would become this way it just is now.
Blood magic erasure cause the devs are scared of us being cool I guess.
I hate the humor. Every joke doesnt land for me. And there are simply too many.
#in the long run i just think they dropped the ball#the romances arent steamy#the coversations are dull#the politics are akin to a 6th grade civis class
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I thought that I might do an "About me", just to people know what I'll use this for, some rules for the people who will interact with me, without further ado, I present you my stuff!
About me!
I'm Alex/Fox, I'm 20 years old, I go by any pronouns, but since I am nonbinary(AFAB) I prefer He/They, but sometimes it changes and I get a little bit femme leaning, in a femboy-way, trully. Everyone is welcome here in my blog to talk to me, as long as you are being respectful. I do have more preference for men and non-femme-aligned people. And I'm a poly pansexual :}
About this blog
This blog is of NSFW nature, so if you are a minor, don't interact with me. This blog is my main account, so, you know, it will be weird and random shit. In this blog, I'll interact with a lot of fandom content, NSFW content, nerd content and I might write something once in a blue moon, but don't expect much, I do it for fun.
About dms/asks
My asks are open, and I encourage you to talk to me! I dont bite that hard, you know? Just dont be boring, I'd love to talk to you!
Limits!
Don't be a jerk= TERFs, Racists, Zionists, Homophobes, Pedophilia, Zoophilia, Necrophilia. Ed and SH blogs aren't welcome here. I will block you.
Llimits in kink:
- Scat
- Vomit
- Gore
- Violence
- Extreme degradation
- Actual pregnancy
- Misgendering/ Detransification
- Race Play
My kinks!
In orange is my most enjoyable kinks, in blue some that I am exploring/new to:
- Domination and Submission (I'm a versatile sub)
- Fauxcest (Ya can call me son and little bro >.<)
- Corruption!!!! (Giving/Recieving)
- Pet play 🦊/🐶
- Hypnosis
- Praise
- CNC
- Rape
- Intox
- Primal
- Degradation (Don't be too extreme)
- Regency
- Size kink!!
- Monster fucking
- Free use
- Soft spoken Manipulation
- Creampies
- Religion/Blasphemy kink
- Force-Masc
- Other bdsm stuff as well. Probably I will add more later :P
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There's a funny thing that happens, when you take a bunch of things Christians believe and follow them to their logical conclusion. First data point: Heaven and Hell. To simplify, the former is eternal bliss, the latter is eternal torment; the details are not important, only that the point is that you want to act in such a way that you and as many people as possible go to Heaven, and that you and as many people as possible get to avoid Hell.
Second data point: The Earth doesn't really matter all that much, except that it's where you live before you go to the afterlife. It's a Fallen World, according to them, which means it's irrevocably tainted in such a way that the only way you can ~cleanse~ yourself is through faith in their brand of god. Material pursuits of any kind are pointless unless they serve to glorify god and get you (and others, don't forget) closer to Heaven, because Satan's out ta getcha and he tempts you all over the place. Third data point: What about babies? Do babies go to Hell if they die early and aren't good enough, despite not being able to understand the world around them yet? Because they want to reconcile the existence of Hell with the existence of a supposedly all-loving god, and want to preserve the inherent monstrousness of it while assuring themselves that only the deserving get tortured forever, Christians tend to say no: Babies go to Heaven automatically, or maybe to Purgatory, but that's just pre-Heaven. Some extend this to people who never had the opportunity to learn the ~correct~ religion because, again, they want to pretend that the idea of eternal torture isn't evil by default.
Fourth data point: Jesus Died For Our Sins. This is the foremost thing about Christianity; through a selfless sacrifice, Jesus saved the whole world from Hell and gave them a chance to go to Heaven, despite how Evil humanity is By Default. Despite the fact that he didn't really sacrifice much, considering he was god and knew perfectly what he was doing and planned it the whole time, only 'died' for three days and all that, this is a fixed point: self-sacrifice for the sake of others is the height of goodness in Christianity.
This is all REALLY basic stuff, when it comes to Christianity! I'd bet that most sects of it believe in all of the above, with very few exceptions. But putting all of this together leads to an extremely dark place.
Because, under this framework, the most moral thing you could do would be to kill as many babies as humanly possible, constantly, as quickly as possible.
It's the most surefire way to get someone straight to Heaven! You could preach your entire life, 'til you're blue in the face, and it's still only a maybe on how many people you 'save', if anyone.
But kill a thousand babies, and that's a thousand souls in Heaven, without exception. Sure, it might be monstrously evil on your part, denying you your place in Heaven, but there's the kicker:
Isn't that the most selfless self-sacrifice you could possibly do?
To consign yourself to eternal torment for the sake of a thousand souls experiencing eternal bliss, isn't that a far more impactful sacrifice then just being dead for three days? Kill even two and the math already more than evens out. Even if you get tortured forever, you can be secure in the knowledge that two people are forever free from harm.
It's not like they needed to live anyway; this is a Fallen World, remember? Allowing them to have full lives would just be an opportunity to expose them to corruption, and because Heaven is perfect, anything they could get on Earth they can get in Heaven. Isn't it actually selfish to keep them around and have them risk Hell by learning about the base material world and all its temptations?
OBVIOUSLY I do not agree with any of this, but isn't it fucking disturbing how clearly this monstrous shit follows? I didn't even need to do any weird quibbling with passages from the Bible (and there's some rotten shit in there, let me tell you), this is all derived from basic-ass things that any Christian would purport to believe in a vacuum. Though, of course, if confronted with what they can all imply combined like this, they'll obviously get defensive.
And this also isn't to say that a lot or in fact any actual Christians would agree with that conclusion... since it's obviously monstrous, and most Christians tend to act better on average than their beliefs would imply.
Which, judging based on common Christian behavior in the US alone, should tell you a lot about how horrifying those beliefs actually are.
This is just a thought experiment to show you how easily the worst possible ideas can spring from belief without evidence, combined with absolutist ideas of an afterlife and the laughable idea that humanity is innately evil.
Humanity is not innately anything, but we tend to cling together. Our civilization, and even these words that you're reading and the screen you're using to read with, were made by someone for the benefit of themselves and others. If we face reality and try to make this world better, it will become better, and we can leave that behind for those who come after us.
If instead we all decide that whatever comes after death is preferable to reality, then there might as well be nothing that comes after us.
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How going through the worst years of his life made Andy Biersack A better writer: an in depth analysis on the evolution of Andy Biersack's lyrics.
Andy Biersack has always been a gifted lyricist. There is no denying that. It is baffling reading through the lyrics of songs like Sweet Blasphemy and Knives and Pens and knowing that they were written by a teenager. The lyrics of Carolyn are some I always point to when discussing his emotional depths that he has had even at a young age. A touching love letter about perseverance and staying strong to the mother of his band mate, Jake, who had confided in him about her struggles with depression. Andy has been able to touch people with his words from day one.
That takes us to Set The World on Fire. The Bands Junior album that had to surpass the first in every way(and did). This album is interesting to me because it is when we finally start to see the outside influences creeping in. We got heartfelt songs like Savior, a song musically written about the suicide of a close friend of Jinxx's and Andy was able to sit down and create the lyrics in 20 minutes. Religion has and will always be a heavy topic in Andy's writing, whether it's in the imagery or a blatant discussion on the corruption of the church like in the song New Religion where Andy says the line “You don't love a God, you love your comfort” in a rage-filled tone.
This album feels like a BVB record, of course it does, but then you have Love isn't Always Fair. A song that Andy admitted to only writing because he was pressured into writing a “sexy strip club song”. Andy wrote from the heart, he wrote of paint, triumph and showing people. Why the hell would he write about blow jobs and tits? It made no sense. Though I do love the song, it doesn't fit the band at all and is why we haven't seen a track like that from them since. You see that in tracks like Youth and Whisky as well.
This was also when we see bad habits forming. Andy was a young, impressionable kid who wanted to make it and a well respected producer is telling him he needs to drink before recording vocals. This was not the start of Andy's spiral as he had already started drinking to help himself be more social at parties before this. It was the beginning of the dependency though.
Andy was impressionable. Of course he was. He was young. This was when he started letting other people influence his art.
You see it in the imagery as well. Everyone in the band(except you know who) hated the Fallen Angels music video. It made no sense, it took an allegory and made it literal. They didn't understand the song and ignored Andy's input.
Even as a young fan who had barely gotten into the band, I could see that this video didn't fit the rest. Andy was 19/20 and being brushed off and ignored because he was young- Now obviously, this stuff isn't about his writing, but I promise, I'm getting to it, I'm setting the stage so to speak. To understand the changes, you need to know the reasons.
Now we find ourselves at the band's sophomore record. A highly anticipated album that had a huge album in their career to try and surpass once again. Wretched and Divine was the album where Andy started pushing more for his ideas which in turn, made certain people very unhappy. You see this in the Coffin music video. His hair is now shorter, his makeup is more minimal. Andy was tired of the glam rock and the poor caricature of what he had originally set out to create. This will be the first, but not the last time that we see Andy choose to burn it to the ground rather than fight to come to a compromise with someone who refuses to change.
So burn it down, he did.
Andy fired their old producer and scrapped everything they had worked on to work with someone else. He didn't want STWOF part 2. He wasn't about to become a self fulfilling prophecy. He needed to create. Andy, at 21 years old, wrote the storyline of what would become their most successful album while on a flight in his iPhone notes app. This was the moment Andy discovered his true talent in writing.
World building.
This album was exactly what the band needed. It was a brilliant Rock opera with orchestral pieces and an entire movie to go along with it. Black Veil didn't ask or beg for it to be made, they made it happen. We see Andy's writing broaden in this record and get their biggest song to date, In The End. A loving tribute to Andy's late grandfather that they play live to this day. This was when Andy finally started learning to collaborate and write with other people. He still made his voice clear without allowing it to be compromised.
This was, however, when we see his drinking take a turn. If you watch clips from the recording process of Done For You, Andy is bent over, barely holding himself up due to how drunk he was.
With every high must come a devastating low and that brings us to BVB 4
While self-titled is one of my favorite records from the band, this is the moment we really see what Andy calls the BVB mad libs. Andy was no longer writing from the heart, he was writing what he thought sounded like something he would say. While there are several tracks that are lyrically sound, I can see what he means. Andy had to drink a bottle or two of red wine every time he sat down to write. Andy has said that he is embarrassed by the lyrics on some of the songs from this record, admitting that he didn't even recall writing them due to how drunk he stayed. Andy has "jokingly" said that he doesn't remember most of 2014 and could you imagine that? He doesn't remember most of 23. I turned 24 a few months ago and I couldn't imagine losing a chunk of my life due to addiction.
But the main focus is; the thing he was most passionate about, he couldn't even stay sober long enough to do.
What was once an escape from the world and an outlet was now a chore. He no longer felt excited to create within the realm of BVB because he no longer had the freedom to do so. He was drinking heavily during the recording process and also going through undiagnosed health problems that nearly killed Andy. During Warped 2015, Andy stayed on his partner, Juliet's(now Lilith Czar professionally) bus to avoid his own. Andy was now at his all time low at this point in his life. He was drinking heavily to get through the days, his close friend passed away very suddenly, he was getting into fights regularly, he was on medication that was making him lose his mind, and now his own band was a waking nightmare to be in.
He had to get out.
Andy Black was announced under the guise of being a creative outlet so Andy could dabble in different sounds and genres without affecting the band. While there was some truth to that, it wasn't entirely true. Andy needed a way to continue making a living that wasn't going to affect him mentally.
This was when we finally saw a side of Andy that we hadn't seen in his past work.
Vulnerability.
If Black Veil Brides was about overcoming and being yourself through the face of adversity through world building and storytelling. Andy Black was an open diary. For the first time, we got to hear how Andy was feeling in a completely raw and unfiltered way. We learned of his fears, his struggles with mental health, his addiction(and two subsequent relapses in 2016) and his relationships. No longer were there veiled messages of his personal life through poetic Interpretations. It was just him.
A lot of people say that Vale sounds like an Andy Black record With more guitars, and I agree, but not in the way you think. Sonically, it is very much BVB, but now? Andy is being honest.
He is no longer hiding how he feels or what's going on. Through songs like When They Call My Name: a song about his severe struggles with anxiety and OCD and the devastating crash of everything he had been numbing with alcohol after sobriety and how his now wife helped him through it. We see angry songs filled with vitriol that can only be about one person truly. Tensions were high within the band because Andy wasn't staying silent in his songs anymore. This person didn't even work on the album, why would it matter to him?
Vale(This is Where it Ends) caused panic within the Fandom because Andy didn't hold back. “I can't put it back together. No, I won't put it back together. This is where it ends.” Andy took a stand. He was no longer going to be made miserable, he was no longer going to keep the piece. If it broke then he was going to add the gasoline and the matches to finish the job.
Andy had said by the time the last tour with BVB came along, he was fine around alcohol and wasn't tempted, but then they're on tour and Andy is talking about staying on a separate bus that is dry because he “didn't want to ask the band to not drink"(a request they were happy to oblige to during their 2021 tour cycle mind you)
We hear the band talk about going to bars, about CC's collection of White Claw. Hell, there is even a selfie of Andy and Lilith on the bus in 2022 with a bottle of alcohol on the table. Andy wasn't bothered by alcohol, but when he had to be on the Resurrection tour? He feared relapse. After two years of being sober and speaking of how he didn't even think of drinking anymore, he had to stay on a completely different bus and not allow drinking or smoking on it to fight the temptation.
Andy left that tour with the resolve that he was having to start over. He wrote The Ghost of Ohio, and album filled with obvious hints of his struggles during that time, including the very heartbreaking Westwood Road(if you haven't read the lyrics to that Song, it is not as fun as the music Makes you think) the Martyr, a fuck you to a lot of people and Know One. If you were a fan during this time, you know that essentially everyone blamed Andy for the band not touring. He was hated by everyone and couldn't defend himself because of an NDA contract that no one in the fandom was aware of.
This was a critical moment in time. Andy was so miserable within the setting of BVB, that he heared ruining his sobriety if he was subjected to it much longer.
“I can't change the way they look at me, I won't show you what you'll never see”
Andy understood that he was going to be the villain in this story, but he was going to make peace with it. This album shows how Andy has truly come to understand his voice and how his words and lyrics affect things. He learned that even if people hated him for what they perceived him to do to the band, he could still find an audience within Andy Black.
2019 comes to a close and DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD.
Lonny is now in the band and this was when we see Andy truly come into his own as a lyricist for BVB. He no longer feared writing how he felt(with songs like the Vengeance being a clear fuck you), he no longer hid behind allegories and fables, hoping people will understand what he's getting at; but he's no longer laying it out on the table completely raw and vulnerable. Andy found a middle ground, writing one of the best albums they have ever put out(The Phantom Tomorrow) and then putting out one of the most emotionally raw EPs I've ever listened to(The Mourning.)
Better Angels and Savior ii is an incredible example of how Andy has developed as a writer. They are completely raw songs that tell you exactly how much he has struggled in the past few years. Devil is a fuck you to Trash man and the Revival was a simple question of how the fuck do we get ourselves out of this?
The answer was simple. Lonny Eagleton( @ethan-elliott is writing an essay on that so follow him for whenever he posts it).
In short. Andy has always been a gifted storyteller and could touch people with his art, but it took a long road of pain, suffering, and growing up to come into his own as an artist. I don't believe that you have to go through a lot to come into your own, but it certainly helps.
Now we have some of the best music They've ever put out, exciting, conceptual art for a new era, a documentary, and a book series. Andy proves that it doesn't matter where you came from or what you've been through, it all comes down to how you are going to channel that pain. Will you choose the path of self destruction or creation? Only you can make that choice for yourself.
#black veil brides#andy biersack#andy black#analysis#essay writing#this is a lot#I'm sorry#fuck trashley#as always
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Head cannons about Jason Todd and his relationship/feelings towards God/Catholicism after coming back from the dead? How does his religious angst impact his relationships (with the fam or a SO depending on what you want to write !) and how does he find peace for himself ?
A/n: ok tell me why while I was doing research for this I came upon tons of people outright saying they hate Christianity and are anti-Christian?? Seriously what is wrong with people nowadays, Christianity is the only religion people feel okay actively and openly hating on, but if you come across somebody saying they hate another religion, for example Islam, you'll find that person cancelled in a matter of minutes. Really sad stuff. Respect people's beliefs guys, I don't agree with Islam but you don't see me hating on it and attacking muslims on the internet. Anyways thank you so much for the ask Anon!! I love the originality of it, and it prompted me to do research on how Jason is portrayed in media.
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I don't believe he looses his faith
He's angry and he's confused about why what happened to him happened, yes, but somebody raised catholic in the environment he was, where religion was one of the only things you could cling to, really makes you strong in your faith
especially someone like Jason
He was a very smart and curious kid, so I believe he asked a lot of questions to his pastor and really pondered the answers, which I think made him really understand his faith and made it all the more strong
I've seen that a lot of people leave the faith after something bad to them happens and then they see that God's "not real" because if God were real then He would've helped them
I don't believe this happens to Jason because he understands that even if God isn't responsible for the actions of people corrupted and lead by sin everything that happens and that He lets happen does for a reason
So I believe he'd try to understand what the reason for what happened to him was
And the thing with God is that you can't always understand why He led you to a certain point, but with Jason I think you could see it in an eventual reconciliation, or him saving some people from some very hopeless situations (for example trafficking)
I really like the "purpose" Jason discovers for being where he is in the fic "forgive us (as we forgive those)" (it's not exactly his purpose in the pic but this prompted it, plus it's a masterpiece so go read it!!)
Aka Jason helping Damian with all the trauma that comes with being forced/conditioned to kill
Also ik people might come at me for saying this but I believe Jason could do without the killing
I believe it can be part of his character at the start, but the thing is that for the believer sinning quite literally hurts (at least for me). There's this ache inside your chest and this guilt that just calls out to you and does not go away until you pray/confess. Hence why I believe that, even though he does believe that some of the deaths he caused were necessary, he goes on to try and stop killing, abandoning it as a method of justice
Due to this I believe his relationships with his family get better, though it's a long road to better them and some will always be strained
His relationship with Bruce remains strained for a long time, depending on wether or not Bruce finally gets over his emotional constipation and apologises for everything, including blaming him for his death and in general his treatment of Jason pre-Ethiopia (trying to use him as a substitute for Dick, comparing them constantly, making him robin in the first place and stuff like that). Only if Bruce apologises for all of that plus how he treated Jason after he came back do I see their relationship really improving and actually progressing from the one they had when Jason was Robin
I don't really know how his relationship with Dick is, but in general I think that after Jason stops killing they gradually come closer to each other. I can see Dick feeling guilty for not having been there for Jason when he was Robin and so for not being a brother to him. On the other hand I also see Jason acknowledging that Dick and Bruce have their own problems to resolve and they always did, so I see him being understanding toward that 20-year-old Dick
Jason's relationship with Tim I think would start to improve only after Jason shares his thoughts about the Titan's Tower attack, about his eventual remorse for what he did. Tim is very calculating and analytical, I see him being able to understand the extent of the pit rage and what it made Jason do. I also think it'd take some time for Tim to fully forgive him tho, depending on when this apology happens, because it's still a lot of trauma that he has to process.
Jason' relationship with Damian would flourish with Jason helping Damian, who deep down is really grateful for it but doesn't understand Jason's methods for getting over killing (aka praying and religion in general). I see a very beautiful dynamic blossoming between them, a kind of silent understanding and the knowledge that they have each other's backs
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Hope you enjoyed!
#jason todd#christian jason todd#catholic jason todd#christianity#catholiscism#dc#batman#bruce wayne#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#jason todd headcanon#jason todd headcanons
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Oughhh I love the idea for your ex-cultist guy so much. It's such an interesting concept to have a cult that tries to create its own higher power to worship. Nexus scientists in particular have access to a lot of research regarding dissonance and The Other Place, so it makes sense that after the fall of the Nexus Core, a bunch of rouge scientists took whatever was left of Phobos "Ascension to Godhood" plan and made their own kinda DIY Gestalt to worship. Also them still being around preying on whatever Nevadeans they can get their hands on is so ominous, gives very much "cult who feeds people to their god" vibe, I love it.
I can only imagine how much guilt your guy has, knowing very well what the cult is still doing and what he helped create. And if I'm reading into this correctly, him knowing that those he helped sacrifice are still suffering in that conglomerated mass of s3lfs... agghhhh it's all very lovecraftian and I love that shit so much! Plus him having been corrupted by dissonance is so good...like his research forever changed him, like a price for knowledge kind of thing. I'd love to see more whenever you do figure out his design, I love stuff with eldritch themes!
EEEE it's hard to articulate/state how much this means to me, thank you for showing an interest in my concept/thoughts even when it was just. tags in your post LMFAO I genuinely appreciate it so much. It's so lovely and kind for you to reach out!
I think there's so much fun potential for the aftermath of Phobos' death and then further still when the sun dies and 'madness' sets in from MC3. Nevada becomes even more unsafe and splintered, filled to the brim with roaming gangs of bandits, cultists, scavengers, you name it. It's survival of the fittest, but so many of them have lost their way, a purpose, meaning, and stability in their life. Not to mention if you're alone, you're probably easy pickings for your shit being stolen, or for you being beaten.
I can easily see these 'false religions' popping up (ie, cults) to try and get people to band under one banner, one purpose. It's easy to manipulate, too if you're powerful enough and have a compelling enough reason. The AAHW is just another one of these dubious groups who have enough collective power to compel people to join the fold so they have a place to sleep and eat. Even if their cause is a literal death sentence.
Project Gestalt would be eye-opening to what you could "do" with the S3LF. Have enough of it in a suitable host and you can basically construct a higher being, arguably a god. Could you do the same in a person? What's the limit? Could you make a hivemind out of bodies and souls all melded together?
No one's gonna miss those people. Surely they're happy to be part of a greater cause? Never mind all those S3LFs writhing together, no voice to cry out for their suffering as they're forever stuck in service of this cultist endeavour. It's very Undertale Amalgamates (one of my favourite things from Undertale tbh).
And if they're suitable enough to be a competent or intelligent proponent of their designs, then they get to help make the project, rather than be fed to it.
So yeah, he really wanted to die for all that. But in the in-between of life and death, the Maker steps in and gives him another chance. I can imagine him asking the Maker why he doesn't stop the cult itself, this blasphemy of existence, but the Maker just regards him silently. Could think of it that he wants this guy to do something about it, rather than him just waving the matter out of existence.
He's actually the guy who restored Rory, and he's assisting Jane with her endeavour to find Medea. Many of this guy's victims were AAHW, by the way. You could think of this as his attempts to repent, although he's really not directly addressing the ongoing problem of the cult...
Again, thank you so much for asking me about my little goobers. It means the world to me, and I treasure every opportunity and kindness extended to me to talk about them, hehe!
Edit: Oops I forgot I got too excited to post, I really love your work and its a pleasure to see your art! Thank you for all the lovely ideas that you share. I think Chickaboo is adorable!
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Hallelujah
(There are no Veilguard spoilers in this content, it was all created in early September, I’m only posting it now).
So I found this old Bioware article from 2014…
Its about what the writers listened to when they wrote their characters.
I was immediately struck by Weekes’ (writer of Bull, Cole, & Solas) comment that he wrote whole swaths of Solas dialogue listening to K.D. Langs cover of Hallelujah.
Because when I was playing Origins, way back in 2009, as soon as I heard the words “The Chant of Andraste” I thought of Hallelujah.
No better parallel could exist for me. Hallelujah, if you listen to the lyrics, is not really church related, yet it got absorbed into the church as a hymn. Its fucking sad, and yet we’re praising god or some shit?
Kinda like how I feel The Chantry has changed their religion, their original purpose, Andraste and the Maker and all that, into something horrible (subjugation/lobotomization of mages, feeding templars crack, you know, nOrMal StUfF).
I love the parallels there. And I love that Weekes used this sad-ass fucking dirge for our sad-ass fucking egg, especially considering what KD Lang said about it:
Canadian singer k.d. lang said in an interview shortly after Cohen's death that she considered the song to be about "the struggle between having human desire and searching for spiritual wisdom. It's being caught between those two places." (Be still, my heart.)
And I thought about how Legends Shouldn’t Be Given The Weight of History, and how The Chantry’s purpose has been twisted, and how Hallelujah’s purpose has been twisted, and at the time, I was completing The Temple of the Emerald Knights in DA:I. I was thinking about how the Elvhen temple is littered with statues of Andraste and Mythal (dragon), how there’s a Knight, Andale (which is so obviously Andraste, prob Flemythal reincarnate of some sort).
The blending and melding and mushing of cultures and religions as time drags on, how originally good or pure purposes are changed or shifted, or corrupted.
And I thought of Andraste again.
I have been unhealthily obsessed with this artist named Aly, who is a Bard in Thedas and sings at The Dread Halla Tavern (you can find them on spotify here);
(for clarification, this human is not me, I am not a singer, she is very good, you should go listen to all her songs-after you read this).
Anyways, I got to thinking…
What would Andraste’s Hallelujah sound like?
I had to write it.
Its sad and beautiful and tells the story of a woman flighting against forces she has no hope of defeating (But we still have to try).
[Andraste’s Lament]

And I got immediately transported to a smoky, dimly lit tavern in Southern Thedas. Aly has just sung Andraste’s Lament, and is approached by Neria, a lone Dalish Elf who clutches a scrap of paper tightly in her hand.
Aly listens to this elf tell her a story of a sad song her mother used to sing her when she was young, before she got killed by bandits. And could she sing this song for her, please, she even has a few coppers.
And Aly sits down, scans the paper, and realizes it’s a different version of Andraste’s Hallelujah.
Written in small looping script at the top, in Common, is Dirge of the Dread Wolf.
And she sings it softly to Neria, a strange story of mothers and gods and tricksters and wolves, and Neria’s eyes well.
[Dirge of the Dread Wolf]

She ends the song, the last beautiful Hallelujah trembling through the thickness of the tavern air.
Neria sniffs once, and then begins a new story. Aly listens to this Elf speak of a crumbling Dalish temple deep in the middle of nowhere, where she found a piece of paper beside a four legged statue that has since eroded to expressionless guardianship, of words crossed out and changed and smudged.
Then she shakily hands Aly a different piece of paper.
This velumm is significantly older than the first, thicker, almost crumbling around the edges.
And its Hallelujah again, but its spelled wrong, and some strange name with too many n’s in it is written at the top.
And Neria asks Aly if she can sing this.
But it’s written in Elvhen, and Aly shakes her head, she doesn’t think she can stumble through all the strange Dalish a’s and ash’s and am’s (there's so many damn vowels in Dalish…).
But, Aly halts the elfs falling face, she is more than willing to sing this in Common, if Neria will stay to act as translator.
So the two bend their heads close over the bar, and Aly pulls out her small precious notebook where she writes down the lyrics to her own tunes, and they quickly make work of the Elvhen words, Aly humming and hawing as she changes some words to better match the pattern of the song.
And soon they have a brand-new Hallelujah, and Aly asks Neria to pronounce the name at the top.
Ghil-an’nain, Neria says, and make sure you spell the hallelujah right.
H, a, l, l, a, l, i, e, u, y, a.
What does that mean in Dalish? Aly asks the elf.
And Neria shrugs. Halla is like a halla, she assumes. But this word lieu, she doesn’t know.
Aly assumes in the context of this song it must mean birth, but Neria shakes her head. Shena is the verb for born.
Well, what about victory? But Neria shakes her head again. Ena’sal’in is the word for victory, or triumph.
Aly blows out a breath. She’s a lyricist. What would make this poetic.
What about truth?
The elf thinks, and a small smile grows on her lips.
She can’t think of a Dalish word for truth.
Ghilan’nain’s Truth of the Halla?
Aly’s beautiful soprano soon fills the room, and her eyes widen when a soft Alto joins her, singing along in the original Elvhen.
[Ghilan’nain’s Truth of the Halla]

A haunting melody, completely changed by the understanding of the root of halla lieu’ya, not a praise to The Maker, or the curse of a trickster, but the story of a young god, beaten and battered and blinded, and her creations, and her destruction of them.
[Ghilan’nan’es Halla’lieu’ya]

The tavern erupts when they finish, and poor Neria blushes furiously as her back is slapped, and her hair is tousled, by the patrons of the establishment.
Aly and her new friend make their way to the bar, where foaming tankards await them.
They cheers, and as they tip the beer back, a city elf approaches them, dressed like a Dalish, but he has no vallaslin. He pushes his cowl down to reveal a bald head and shocking purple eyes. His voice is quiet, with a deep, romantic lilt.
“Where did you find that song?”
…
Please be gentle with any constructive criticism on my voice, I am absolutely NOT a singer, I know I don’t have a superstar voice but I’m also not tone deaf, so just… don’t be shitty to me, internet. Listen to the lyrics, not the delivery.
If anyone’s actually interested, I'll message you the lyrics. I also did record all four songs (Andraste, Dread Wolf, Ghilly (English), and Ghilly (Elvhen),) but can only put one video per post. Maybe I'll link them later if people are interested.
*It did not even occur to me until after writing Andraste’s Hallalujah that someone might have had this idea already. I did a little googling afterwards, and someone has put solas’ dialogue to the tune of Hallalujah, but no ones “re-written” it yet in this context (that I could find). My query to you is, why would Solas speak in Leonard Cohen's hallelujah/iambic pentameter if he had never heard it before?
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Obviously, this can never be turned into a real song, because Sony owns the rights to the OG Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. But the romanticism of this song, changing through the ages, was too good to pass up. I hope you enjoy it, sincerely, and if you are a better singer than I, by all means, use my lyrics and record it, and please send me the link so that I can listen to it!
Thanks to Weekes, Leonard Cohen, & The Dread Halla Tavern for inspiring this.
Bare your blade, and raise it high.
#Dragon Age#Dragon Age Homemade Lore#Not Cannon#or is it#NO DA4 spoilers#lyrics#The Dread Halla Tavern#Halla lieu'ya#hallelujah#A Song for Trick#Trick Weekes#Solas#The Dread Wolf#Ghilly#ghilan'nain#Halla#Andraste#Andraste's Lament#Dirge of the Dread Wolf#Ghilan'nain'es Halla Lieu'ya#Ghillys Truth of the Halla#Dragon Age Inquisition#Do not give legends the weight of history#Toss a coin to your Inky#Toss a coin to your rook#long post#if youre still here what are you doing here. go. shoo.
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