#it's morally conflicting for me but what am i supposed to do??? NOT lust over him while he's laying on his back with his shirt open???

[wildsaltair]

guess my brain rot is really rotting today because all I can think about is how if I'm not kneeling over him in this position covering every inch of his chest in kisses life is not even worth living

BONUS (featuring the top of his shoulder / neck where my face belongs at all times)

[all-about-seggs]

A pact in blood-

Rating: 18+, Explicit

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Word count: ~3K

Warnings: Semi-incest (Satoru is your cousin/ distant relative), masturbation, Cunnilingus, fingering, hand job, the relationship is a bit messed up, yandereish undertones.

A/n: This takes place when he's still in the academy.* Image source*

“AA-ahhh! Please don’t- don’t stop…”,

Your broken pleas reverberated through the room as Satoru’s deft fingers worked their way in and out of your sopping wet hole. You gripped the sturdy jacket that covered his shoulders, folding the fabric between your fists was the only thing you could do to maintain the last shred of composure you had.

He was like a passing cloud who offered you momentary relief and was on his way as soon as your were done, the fragments of longings that remained on your body etched deeper after every night.

Position after position, he went from your pussy over his lips to eating you out ass up and face down, all for the pleasure you couldn’t seem to get by yourself. You were now splayed out on his lap, face buried in his neck and one arm draped over him for support. Waves of his sweet scent and the euphoria assaulting your senses at the same time, taking you closer and closer to the edge.

It’s been quite some time now but the memory of your first encounter with your unfairly gorgeous cousin Satoru has been etched into your mind as if it happened just yesterday.

You were in the manor of the esteemed Gojo clan for a family event and even though you didn’t shared the same surname you were related nonetheless and were hence invited. It was a four day and three night celebration where the entire place was abuzz with excitement.

It didn’t really mattered to you, being here with a go with a flow kind of attitude, you just minded your own business until spoken to and not mingling with the faceless crowd of people you didn’t even knew the names of.

Thankfully your room was in the separate building which was a little bit further from where all the riotous events centered around. After just half a day of being in the middle of the chaos you wanted to find a way to unwind and that’s when it happened.

Stark naked and two fingers up your little cunt, there was no explaining or bullshitting your way out of this situation when the heir of the household, Satoru Gojo himself walked in in you. Feeble attempts to cover yourself and half hearted stutterings died in your mouth as soon as the young man opened his.

“ Wrong”, the deadpan reply of his made your already shaken up state worsen. Panic flooding in your system begged you to make excuses or atleast request him to not speak of this to anyone, after all families of high status are nothing if not conservative and you didn’t wanted to cause anyone any trouble.

“ I meant, y/n chan, that you’re doing it wrong”, not paying any mind to your internal conflict he continued speaking form where he stood near the door, “ don’t you know how to masturbate? I thought you were in highschool?”

His genuinely perplexed tone made you reconsider your previous opinions about the heir to the clan. Satoru, a guy who walked in on a relative masturbating, was supposed to show courtesy and leave the second he entered but instead he was rating your technique, which in all honesty may have been lacking indeed but you were desperate to cum and he seemed to pick up on that.

“ Since you’re clearly having trouble getting off”, he loosened the obi of his particularly formal kimono and shifted his uncovered ocean blue eyes towards your form, “Want me to teach you?”, his question made you gulp, then gauge your eyeballs out in disbelief. Sure you weren’t closely related and have only spoken once or twice but you attended all the occasions and holiday celebrations at their place and knew that your relationship was only platonic. His offer to cross that line made you flinch back at first.

Heaving a sigh he closed the door and sat cross legged on the tatami mat next to your futon.

“ Relax, t’s not a big deal”, flashing a toothy grin he leaned forward until your noses touched.

“ Afterall, I AM your big brother”

“ wait- you’re also in highschool!”, You retorted, “ I bet you’re a virgin too. So what CAN you teach me anyway?”, overcoming the initial embarrassment, your mouth started moving in its own accord only getting encouraged by his laid back demeanor.

“ Pfttt- so you get defensive when cornered? How cute!”, he giggled, a smile teasing at his lips at your obvious attempt to hide the shame burning in your core.

“Don’t worry, I know my way around a pussy just fine”, light hearted words fell effortlessly from his mouth and you could swear half of your brain was short circuiting because of his crude way of speaking. For all his regal appearance, he was just like any other highschooler, a year older than you but his stature and delicate features gave him a magestic aura that exceeds that of people decades older than him.

Just by the few encounters from the past, you figured he wasn’t one for following traditions or rules if it didn’t suit him. He was way above the rest, in his own distant world everytime you saw him, the school he went to, the things he had experienced were all different.

Forgetting the other's existence after passing each other by with a few formalities exchanged was all you had done with each. You two were never close or even friends but now the chance presented itself to take your non existent relationship to the extreme end through your bodies.

You wanted this.

To feel good. The hormones of youth pumping your impulsiveness you relax your muscles and lie on your back. You could clearly hear Satoru’s playfully indifferent chuckle from above when you slowly part your legs to show him the sides of yourself that even you have never completely seen.

“Just this once, okay?”

He said he was just teaching you how to masturbate but it wasn’t that simple. The only person to get naked was you and the only person who experienced the mind numbing pleasure, was also you. He only needed his deft fingers and mouth to make you feel better and for a while you didn’t even question.

That one lesson of self pleasure which you both were supposed to forget turned into an entire session as day after day Satoru would show up at your parents house unbeknownst to a soul and you both crossed the same lines of platonic relationship everyday.

The euphoria was endless but with a single rule that you weren’t allowed to touch him in turn and it goes without saying that the two of you never went all the way. It would always start with small talks about the day, even when you’d be talking, all your focus was on what was to come next.

That’s why after a few weeks of the detached pleasure he provided you, it got you thinking what he actually wanted from you. Satoru had already seen, touched and tasted all your body had to offer, never revealing any of his own.

You wondered if he ever felt sexually frustrated by always giving and never asking for anything in return. You knew he was not THAT nice. At least that’s what you believed considering his sadistic streak in bed. He did seem to be enjoying himself when he's messing you up so maybe he didn’t have many sexual urges that he needed to satisfy and was just acting on curiosity or maybe he had someone else, someone older with more experience who he didn’t constantly had a upper hand with and was able to see them as an equal. This thought alone made your chest tight, with an unnatural pain that threatened to break your heart.

You had to catch your darkening train of thought before it reached to the conclusion you were most afraid of. Knowing full well that this was just a fleeting moment that is only supposed to be enjoyed through a lens of carefree thinking, you push the budding feelings of the some very complicated emotions out of your system. The surge of jealousy you felt may have born out of falling in love with a family member but it was wrong on so many levels.

A love that starts with lust never ends well for anyone but as you were laying in his arms, the control over your body handed completely to him, your mind wondered how things would feel vice versa.

“ You seem distracted y/n”, Satoru looked at you, with his glasses off the beautiful azure eyes hidden beneath a delicate layer of white eyelashes filled your vison.

“ I’m obviously not doing it right if you have time to get lost in your thoughts”, putting you down on your bed, he started to move away and for a minute you got your hopes up, thinking your chance to finally have him completely and you cursed yourself for wanting at the same time. But no amount of berating would scrub off the insatiable thirst you had, for its roots had already made their way to your heart.

“Please let me help you too”, these few words took a lot of guts, letting go of all the inhibitions and threads of morality you fix Satoru with an unwavering gaze.

“ That’s okay babygirl, I’M the one who does the teaching here afterall”, you saw what he was trying to do, his airy yet gentle tone didn’t left much room for argument but the gray zone of your relationship was blurring to the point of confusion urged you to give into your clamoring emotions.

Without a second thought you jumped on him with all your might, closing the distance he put within seconds to cover his mouth with yours. You knew how much you weighed but despite your aggressive actions his sturdy form didn’t even deter form his position while catching you. You twirled your tongue over the roof of his mouth, the taste of your juices still lingering in there.

Hoping to have proven your resolve that wasn’t going to settle for getting brushed aside you break the kiss and look expectantly at him. An invisible bond between the two of you taking shape, strengthening the magnetism that attracted you to him.

“ That eager for my cock are you?”, Taking your face in one of his huge hand he makes you look straight at him, “You really want more? More than I'm already giving you?”, just one more push. You thought, with just a bit of coaxing, you were sure Satoru's wishy washy rules would crumble to make way for your upcoming actions.

“ I do. I know exactly what I want but”, steeling your nerves you face him, eye to eye, “ What do YOU want?”. The question was simple but the conflict swirling within Satoru’s eyes was evident and for the first time you realised that maybe this wasn’t just a case of casual hookup for him as well.

“ I want all your firsts. That’s all.” After a short stretch of silence he spoke, ironically the borderline obsessiveness of his glib response, like magic, cleared away the fog was previously clouding your mind. The nonchalance of his smirk should've been the red flag that made you rethink your life choices but the heat of the moment only seemed to ignite your lust.

Not uttering a single word, you quickly work on shedding him off his cloths, he doesn’t make any attempts at stopping you this time around, this knowledge pulling a smile out of you. By the time you reached for his boxers your hands were shaking.

Whether from excitement or nervousness you couldn’t tell but looking down through the veil of his heavy eyelashes, Satoru’s passion was evident.

Eyeing up his exposed body you still for a moment to take it all in. You ran you hands through his sculpted chest and down to his abdomen, your nails scratching the surface of his defined muscles. All of his masculinity contrasted with his oddly sweet scent and velvety pink lips that never failed to lure you in for deep soft kisses.

There’s no doubt girls must be always fawning over him and his perfectly smooth skin was something that even made you jealous. You were so captivated by his looks that you had to shake yourself free from your lovesick stupor .

You feel him up a little, hands running across his toned chest, you drag your nails through the rise and dips of his abdomen down to the contours of his defined V- line before turning your attention to his hardening member. Your breath quickens as your trembling fingers hook beneath his waistband.

Taking out his pulsating member you run your eyes up and down his entire length. He was big, to say at the very least. Bigger than you'd expected and more than you thought you could handle but backing out now would be straight up hypocrisy when your drooling mouth said otherwise.

With your ass right next to his chest, you start licking and sucking his tip with fervour, not wanting to waste even a single drop of his cum that you wanted so bad. You heard him moan lightly behind you, his voice only fuelled the fire that was burning your core. Having never given a blow job to anyone before you struggled in keeping a steady pace and his girthy cock didn’t make it any easier on you.

In just a few minutes you jaw ached and your entire face hurted but Satoru showed no signs of cumming.

In your own world again, you racked up your brain to figure out how to please him when suddenly you felt a hand climbing up your thigh. With the other hand he gripped your hips and pulled your lower half until you were straddling his mouth.

“ It’s a lot better like this don’t you think?”, as he spoke you felt his breath caressing your nether lips and you shivered in delight at the new position.

He snaked his hands in between your thighs and spread open your slit, glistening with your dripping arousal using his thumbs. Every single fold of yours now in display Satoru licked his plush lips before leaving open mouthed kisses on the exposed skin. His lips pulling out a series of appreciative hums as you desperately try to focus on your own actions.

Taking his hard length half in your mouth and half in one of your hand you tried to match the skilful movements of Satoru’s tongue that relentlessly lapped at your clit. After a few minutes of trying and failing to suck him up properly your senses got completely clouded by the heavy onslaught of that familiar release you had gotten used to.

You wanted to ask him to stop so you catch up to him but he the vigor in his actions and your own overwhelming surge of desires made you decide against it, the broken stings of his name died down with you still half choking on his length.

The only thing your lust laden mind could decipher except for pleasure was shame. To you, it was shameful how, being the one who asked to touch him, you were the one tethering near the edge. Before long your convulsing pussy was dripping with your juices, trickling down from his face that was still buried nose deep in your crotch.

Messing you up always filled Satoru with a kind of affection that he didn’t thought he was capable of.

Your cute whines getting muffled by his cock that you could only take half way past your llip sent waves of ecstasy down his spine. The cum that kept on flowing from your aching hole that he was the first to taste and the last as well took him to a high that no amount of pleasure could.

He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be the provider of your everything who had complete control over you or if he just wanted to spend hours into the night, praising every fibre of your being that was so eager to make him feel good. This duality of his thoughts confused him further and in that moment he knew he had to see this to the end.

Your heavy pants was the only thing that could be heard in the otherwise silent room, guilt and pleasure leaving you tongue tied. You move yourself from above him, your quivering body falling like a sac just beside his own.

“ I’m sorry! I couldn’t make you-“, before you could finish your breathy apology he brought up a finger near your frowning lips to quite you down.

“Its okay sugar, it was your first time. Not a big deal.”, the soft notes of his voice took the edge off of the disappointment you felt, “I told you. I’ll teach you everything.”

Those eyes. Two shining orbs of brilliant blue gazed at you in the same way you found yourself staring at him. Watching over you like it was their birthright and oddly enough, the scrutiny made you feel completly at home just like the warmth of his long arms that wrapped themselves around you.

" Realx Y/n, I'll be very thourough with my teaching, afterall,", your heart thumped loudly in your chest in response to his smooth voice, "I don't do things halfway.

The pleasent fatigue that had taken a hold of your body slowly dissipated but the growing haziness of your mind got you wondering if you were falling in deepness of his ocean blue eyes but as soon realization hit you, you were already halfway through blacking out.

That you’d never be forgiven for wanting.

From that moment on, you knew.

Part 2? Idk you tell me(╯︵╰,)

[crystalelemental]

Sharena: “It’s so cool that you can hear people’s thoughts!  Would you mind reading a few more?  I’m really curious.”

Sara: “Are you sure that’s what you want?  Knowing the minds of others isn’t always a blessing.”

Sharena: “You don’t have to tell me everything, just what their general thoughts are like!  Here, let’s try this one.  Ephraim!  Over here!”

Ephraim: “Princess Sharena.  What can I do for you?”

Sharena: “This is Sara!  You may not believe it, but she can read people’s minds!”

Lyon: “Ah, what a marvelous power.  Could you give us a demonstration?”

Sharena: “Try reading Ephraim’s mind!”

Ephraim: “Yeah!  What number am I thinking of?”

Sara: “His thoughts are entirely about food and battle, with occasional blips to protecting his sister and Lyon.  It’s a clear yet hollow voice.”

Ephraim: “Hah!  That’s not even a number!  It was-”

Sara: “Sixty-nine thousand four hundred and twenty.  I know, I’m trying not to dignify it.”

Ephraim: “...Lyon, I think she might be psychic.”

Sharena: “Ooh!  What about Lyon?”

Sara: “His voice is muddied.  He’s uncertain about his path in life, and the thoughts in his head get jumbled around and he doesn’t quite understand even what he wants anymore.”

Lyon: “That...is true.  It is hard, knowing what course to take in my life.  I want to do what is best for my people, and to lead them well, but I fear my own weakness and seek solace in-”

Sara: “Both.”

Lyon: “I...what?”

Sara: “You want both of them.  It’s okay, Lyon.”

Lyon: “Wh-what do you mean?”

Sara: “Eirika and Ephraim.  I know your heart’s desire.”

Ephraim: “I don’t follow.”

Sara: “The voice of his thoughts.  It’s maybe 20% the dedication to his kingdom, 80% lust for the twins.”

Lyon: “Wh-what?!  That’s not-!”

Sharena: “That is substantially higher than I expected.”

Lyon: “What do you mean than you expected?!”

???: “Alright, I’ve heard all I need to hear.  Book him!”

Lyon, now handcuffed: “What is going on?!”

Fiora: “Horny police.  We’re gonna have to ask you to come with us.”

Lyon: “But I’m innocent!  I’ve been falsely accused!”

Plumeria: “Right.  I’m sure the empath got confused about your feelings in particular.  You mortals make me sick.”

Ephraim: “Wait, since when are you two friends?”

Fiora: “Since always.”

Plumeria: “She’s the only one of you vulgar creatures with a sense of decency.”

Fiora: “She may dress like a slut, but she understands the importance of having a strong moral backbone.”

Sara: “Confusion and inner turmoil.  A deep desire to be loved, coupled by a crippling revulsion for what that love would typically entail.”

Sharena: “Are you talking about Fiora or Plumeria?”

Sara: “Yes.”

Niles: “Oooh, handcuffs this early in the day?  Naughty.”

Fiora: “Niles, you were just let out for parole.  Do you need another trip to the station?”

Niles: “Only if you’re gentle~”

Plumeria: “How disgustingly vulgar…”

Sara: “He cries out for attention, and resents those for whom connetions come easily.  He seeks the comfort of others but fears their rejection, and acts distant and silver-tongued to mask his true nature.”

Niles: “You...are really taking the fun out of this.”

Odin: “Haha!  She has you pegged, my friend!”

Niles: “Kinky, but also wrong.  You try dealing with her.”

Odin: “With pleasure!  A great magus like Odin Dark has nothing to fear from-”

Sara: “Bridges.”

Odin: *runs off crying*

Sharena: “Aww, now I kind of feel bad…”

Sara: “I told you, this power is not always a blessing.  It can cause harm to those around you, and at times, harm to the one reading such thoughts…”

Sharena: “Really?  How would it-?”

Yune: “Yo, we havin a party?”

Ephraim: “Sara here can read people’s thoughts, so we were testing it out.”

Yune: “No fooling?  That’s awesome!”

Sara: “...”

Sharena: “I think we should be done for the day, though.  Sara seems tired out.”

Yune: “Awww, lame.  Hey, another time though, right?  ...kid?”

Sara: “....”

Yune’s thoughts: *through muffled static*

Yune: “Kid?  You good?”

Sara: “Sharena, may I say a swear?”

Sharena: “Huh?  Well…”

Sara: “May I say a swear, Sharena?”

Sharena: “I...yes?”

Sara: “What the fuck are you supposed to be?!”

Yune: “Hah!  That’s about right.”

Sara: “Stay back!  Back, creature of madness!”

Yune: “Come on, I’m not that scary!  Tell her, Edelgard!”

Edelgard: “She is a perpetual blight upon my existence.”

Yune: “...so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Sara, turning to Edelgard: “You...”

Edelgard: “It’s nice to meet you.  My name is Edelgard von Hresvelg, heir to the-”

Sara: “I know all about you.  Your voice, it’s...very forceful, yet strangely calming.”

Edelgard: “Is that so?  I see my reputation precedes me.  A most encouraging discovery.”

Yune: “No dude, she’s just empathic.”

Edelgard: “No wonder she’s terrified of you.”

Yune: “Now that’s just mean!”

Sara: “Yet your voice, it carries an edge of...resentment.  A deep, unbridled anger against the world.”

Edelgard: “I...suppose that is a fair assessment, yes.  Still, I have no intention of harming you.  And despite her appearance and mannerisms, neither will Yune.”

Yune: “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?  After all my sage guidance and moral support.”

Sara: “The two of you...it’s like a tempest.  One burning in its own fury, ready to rage against the world.  The other a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and emotions; a cacophony of chaos.  What are you?”

Edelgard: “She is a chaos goddess.”

Sara: “A chaos...goddess?”

Edelgard: “In her world, she is one half of the goddess that created the world.  She embodies chaos in all its forms.”

Sara: “And she...is on your side?  You are allies?”

Yune: “Allies is too distant.  We’re friends!  Great pals.  Right, Edelgard?”

Edelgard: “She latched on to me as soon as I arrived, and I have yet to make her leave.”

Yune: “Edelgard.  Can you not?  Right now?  I’m trying to connect with today’s youth.”

Edelgard: “Today’s youth aren’t interested in vacuous nonsense.”

Yune: “Then what are they interested in, smartypants?”

Edelgard: “Revolution.”

Yune: “Bah, you say that about everything.”

Sharena: “Well, I guess technically she is part of Leif’s liberation army.”

Edelgard: “There!  You see?”

Yune: “It’s a whole kingdom of heroes from across the multiverse who spend their lives doing battle!  That’s not really a representative sample from the general population!  Not everyone’s so invested in overthrowing the government!”

Edelgard: “The church.”

Yune: “To-may-to, to-mah-to.  Point is everyone around here should be down with smashing the system.”

Sara, wide eyed: *giggles*

Edelgard: “Is that a laugh I hear?”

Yune: “Does that mean we can hang out now?!”

Sara: “You two are absolutely insane.  Never speak to me again.”  *leaves*

Yune: “...great, you scared her off.”

Edelgard: “I had nothing to do with this!”

***later***

Lysithea: “And let me guess, the flying gremlin was with her?”

Sara: “Indeed it was.”

Lysithea: “That thing freaks me out.”

Sara: “Finally, someone is talking sense around here.”

[reynesofcastamere]

Pressure Points[β]

(A/N: The prompt I got for this was ‘Maul giving Ahsoka some NSFW stress relief.’ And. Uh...Well, I’m not sure if this is what you wanted, anon. But it’s what you’re getting. ORZ. So yeah, this gets fairly dark. Readmore is going under my notes again. Warnings for: blindfolding, non-negotiated bondage, dubious consent/morals, possessiveness, mentions of past self-abuse(reckless sexual behaviour/masochism) and sensory deprivation. I’m...not certain whether some of Maul’s lines fall under gaslighting or any other form of verbal/emotional abuse, but keep an eye out for those too. Potentially triggering sections have been marked off with ‘****’. This takes place about 2-3 years after ROTS and events are closer to canon (ie Maul is a crime boss but Death Watch and the Nightbrothers aren’t allied with him). Unbeta’d.)

There is tension in her frame as she waits, the strip of black cloth about her eyes her only adornment. Marks cover her, old and new, dappling the sunset colour of her skin with sharp points of red and pools of purple, blue, and yellow. They are not his work, nor do they belong to a single individual. Such a curious creature. Ahsoka Tano is knelt on a large cushion in front of a chair, the very image of powerlessness and debauchery. And yet... “Are these meant to provoke me?” Maul questions, fingertips trailing from the centre of her back and over one shoulder as he circles around her to take his seat. “Or have you come to request my aid in killing those responsible?” The latter seems unlikely, given her limiting morals and considerable skill, though the prospect does intrigue him.  “Neither.” She murmurs, voice slightly roughened from strain as he cups her jaw in one hand, slowly tilting it upwards. The blindfold only prevents him from reading her eyes, but there is a wealth of information waiting in the tempo of her breath and heartbeat, the subconscious tells of movement and expression. “Don’t pretend you’re concerned for anything other than your own ego.” The bitter tone to her voice is hardly subtle, though. “If you wished to avoid interrogation, you should have been more patient.” He coaxes her upwards with guided touches until she sits bestride his thighs. “Instead you summon me here, covered in these tokens-” A single fringertip traces a line from her lower abdomen all the way up to the edge of the blindfold. “-and this insulting barrier.” She jerks her head away when he toys with the edge of it, clearly not willing to relinquish whatever ‘safety’ it afforded her. “What am I to do with you, my Lady?” “Don’t. I’m not yours. Not-” Ahsoka trembles as he discards his gloves to touch her properly. His hands stroke her outer thighs, over her backside and up her spine to curve around and palm her breasts. He indulges himself for a few moments, tasting the vulnerable skin that rests above the pulse beating in her neck as the callused pads of his thumbs rub and circle her stiffening peaks. “Reluctance does not become you.” Maul whispers as her hips twitch, hands blindly seeking out the armrests and gripping them tightly, as if to anchor herself. Or perhaps, to  have something else to touch besides him. “Evil.” Her reply comes, followed by a sharp cry when he roughly tugs and worries at her nipples with his fingers. He is familiar with this kind of deprivation: How taking away one or all of the senses can increase the body’s reaction to pain. Such knowledge had never been meant for the purposes of pleasure; of making another being pant and writhe, seeking more. The first -and only- time he’d had the satisfaction of seeing her in this state was a far more...rushed affair. Punctuated with savage cacophony, nails and teeth tearing at each other as they were swept into a frenzy of unrestrained lust. There simply hadn’t been the time or inclination to truly explore her. But now... He laughs, soft and brief and cruel. “And you know for a certainty that none of your paramours were thieves, murderers, or worse?” One hand trails downwards, stopping just above her sex. The edge of his thumb just barely teases her engorged nub, drawing out a shaken exhale. “Or am I to believe that you screened every one of their backgrounds personally.” A statement of dry scorn as he observes her internal struggle, seemingly repulsed by and drawn towards him all at once. “It’s not the same. They weren’t-I don’t even have a word for what you are.” Ahsoka retorts, low and tinged with sanctimonious fury. She hisses when he slips a single digit inside her, a frission of genuine discomfort travelling up her spine and into her shoulders. Hm. She is certainly wet enough, so the soreness in her channel cannot be his doing. He will need to prepare her gradually if he wants to achieve much more than this. “Oh, but you do. Say it.” “...Monster.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not even going to try and deny it?” “A waste of my time and an affront to your intelligence.” He hasn’t stopped touching her this whole time, lips ghosting along her throat as his fingers carress her, inside and out. Her hips are rolling in minute increments, her grip on the chair practically white-knuckled at this point. Maul pauses for a few moments to remove his upper garments, pry her hands loose, and place them on his back. Specifically, on the furrows she’d left in his skin over the course of their heated entanglement.  ****

“I can’t do this.” She breathes, fingers clenching as the heel of his right palm drags over the bundle of nerves at the apex of her slit. “Mmmn...-haaahh- It’s...it’s wrong.” Her back arches as he re-inserts one digit, then another, still providing the friction that’s causing her to start losing coherency. “An interesting choice of words.” They imply a certain degree of...latitude in her thinking. That it is some form of obstacle preventing her from giving in, rather than a total resistance to what is happening.  “What’s that supposed t-ahhhhn-to mean?” Ahsoka demands, before their lips meet. It does not take long for her to melt, moaning as his tongue teases her lower lip, then lightly draws it between his teeth. When he pulls back, it is purely to admire the image of desirous ruin she inspires, flushed and breathing raggedly as she trembles. “Do you not realize how close you are to oblivion?” He curls the digits inside her for emphasis, feeling her jolt at the sensation. She has been attempting to shield herself from him in the Force, but Maul is both relentless and patient, and the conflict in her is simmering so very near to the surface.  “If you are so diminished by wanting this from me, leave.” His free hand digs into a set of bruises on her right hip, her hands clenching against his back as her core quivers. “Run back to your masters, secure in your nobility and virtue, but know that the monster you marked will never touch you again. Not unless you beg, Ahsoka Tano.”  It is a clear choice. She cannot accuse him of being obscure or unreasonable in his logic or wording. Yet she does not move away or speak. In fact, her jaw is clenched so tightly that one might worry for the state of her teeth. With how...outspoken she usually is, this development is quite odd. He lightly scrapes his teeth over her pulse point as he puzzles it out, circling the fingers still buried inside her. She is visibly struggling now, caught between body and mind as she clings to the last vestiges of self-control. “Ah...” Maul breathes in sudden epiphany. “There it is. You cannot bring yourself to ask for these...perversions.” The stiffening of her posture and the turn of her head is all the answer he needs. “So be it.” He tears a strip of cloth from his shirt, using one hand and some assistance from the Dark Side to tie her wrists behind her back. “I will ignore your sorrow, your guilt, your shame, and you will have the comforting illusion that this is not your choice.” He bites down on her throat as she comes apart, voice and Force signature finally released from their self-imposed restraints. The chaos in her is so exquisite that he cannot resist being overtaken, keening and snarling into his own climax.  

****

There are long moments spent between regaining breath and sense of self, but she does not object when he changes their positions and spends a full hour pleasuring her with a clever mouth and dextrous hands; her releases bestowed as gentle gifts. Nor does she protest once he bears her down onto the floor and claims her again and again, their mutual cries filling the enclosed space with each brutal thrust. Maul is merciless as Ahsoka pleads for him to slow down, that he’s splitting her apart, and she can’t possibly come again. He simply folds her in half, legs placed over his shoulders as he proves her wrong. The final climax is wrought in shrieking agony for them both. It is almost...cleansing, in a way. He pulls out cautiously, readjusting her legs to a more comfortable position before untying her wrists. Ahsoka is limp and pliant, chest heaving with gulps of air. When he removes the blindfold, it is easy to see why. Her eyes are reddened and watery with unshed tears, haunted exhaustion making the blue of her irises lifeless and hollow. His lips press tenderly against her forehead as she closes them. “Shh. Sleep now, ja’ti mirtis {my death}.” He rumbles, just enough of the Dark Side layered into his voice to compel her obedience. A feat that would not be possible without her...current state. Perhaps it would be best to keep her with him for at least a few days, if not longer. His current base of operation is not far, and in this way he can be assured that she is only scratched, not shattered. The Rebellion will whine at him for absconding with their precious former Jedi, no doubt. Let them. He has had larger headaches than their petty grievances and slights. The only outrage that will matter is Ahsoka’s, once she regains herself and takes her freedom. Until then, she is his, and he will tend to her as he sees fit. (A/N: MAUL, ABDUCTING PEOPLE IS NOT HOW YOU SHOW PROPER AFFECTION OR AFTERCARE, FFS. -_-*** So yeah. I might do a single follow-up to this later from Ahsoka’s POV, depending on a number of things. This...might be the first smut drabble I’ve written purely from Maul’s perspective, come to think of it. The line in Sith language is repurposed from captainmazzic, and a couple of others from TLJ. The important thing to remember is that Maul is both Very Persuasive and convinced that he is Always Right. And he is, kind of,  but only from a very selective point of view. Ahsoka has every reason to question the morality of what it means for her to not only want sex from him, but also that she likes having some degree of physical pain involved with sex in general. (Some people aren’t fully comfortable with masochism/painplay in their BDSM, especially when first starting out.) I wanted to explore a version of her that wasn’t as put-together or as sure of herself, because everyone has a point where they either get run down or break entirely; and it doesn’t make her any less for doing so. Anyway, I’ve rambled on a fair bit again. Cheers, everyone!)

[demytasse]

[Shinzaya] Hold Me Tight (Or Don’t) — Ch 3

Previous Chapters: Chapter 2 | All Chapters

—

   Morning rituals were only good for their reliability—not their interest. They might conform with the trends of time; transform into something novel with new means to set the mould, but they always wound up a formulaic bore and predictable as the people who accessorised the unremarkable event. They were a mere bringer of happenstance.

Which Izaya's present gift from his trusty schedule came in the form of his nag of a friend who melded with the shadow on his left and sought to initiate any kind of annoyance. At the moment it was Shinra's hope to converse with an added twine of their dominant fingers as they walked the halls. The contact wasn’t needed, the touch wouldn’t be sincere, and their frozen palms needn't chill the both of them.

His attempts didn’t work, though he did try—and kept on—despite how Izaya shooed them away.

Izaya knew the conversation Shinra insisted would be a nuisance by default, but a day later in retrospect he’d claim that he prophesied exactly how chaotic their morning would turn, and precisely knew that detrimental intel would be gained as a result.

And if he told a soul, he’d explain how the giveaway was the digging grip around his bicep that demanded Shinra be paid attention—a tad different than the normal ritual.

    “Come on, Izaya, listen! I have a brilliant scenario for club today!"     “Can I stop you there?”     “Just hear me out.” Izaya side-eyed his friend.     “It actually involves studying, you know.”     “That doesn’t instil me with confidence.”

    “If you let me talk you’ll see that it’ll accomplish the opposite.”

    “Ah, even more so I’m skeptical.”

Shinra huffed. It was fake.

Though Izaya could tell how patient Shinra tried to be as to not ruin what he’d undoubtedly planned in depth. Which meant he wouldn’t let up no matter how long the reveal was delayed or sidetracked—ignored with little success.

    “Do I have the floor now?”

Izaya sighed, rubbed at tired eyes; revolved his other hand to indicate that Shinra should just get on with it.

    “Splendid!” 

    He cleared his throat enthusiastically. “So like I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m aware of your proclivity to lust over my form while we change in the locker room.”     “Shinra, you’ve never mentioned that,” he rolled his eyes upon instinct.

    “I’ve never explained how obvious your voyeuristic tendencies are?”

    “Perhaps you’re confusing me for you since it seems you’re the one paying explicit attention.”

    “Well it doesn’t matter, you won’t have to rely on those stray glances and pitiably gazes after today.”

    “Enlighten me, vice club president, what’s this supposed bullet on our agenda?”

Unconsciously they’d trekked an optimal route that avoided extra eyes and additional foot traffic. Still, Izaya looked about to make sure no one followed close enough to make a rumour of whatever nonsense Shina was about to explain.

    “Well since you’re finally amenable I’ll cut to the chase. I've come up with a sort of team bonding exercise, a warm-up if you will, to ease ourselves into the ceremonious sex life we’ve yet to start. Thus, I propose that we entertain our teenage libidos with a rousing yet sensual strip teas—”

His perverse fantasy was cut with a solid body-check.

    "Shinra, for the love of whatever god... I want none of what I so kindly prevented you from further revealing."

    "You mean our bodies or the truth?"

    Izaya asked deadpan, "wait...the truth?"

    "Yes! Revealing the truth.”

    "Which is…?"

    "That you want me!"

    "Rather blunt, even for you."

    Shinra shrugged, "as if you don't know my spiel."

    "Ah, so I do. In that case, I'll skip my own to save me the trouble."

Startled—Izaya’s hand was taken into Shinra’s grasp who sparkled in spirit.

    "I was right then." 

    "Not even in the slightest!" He yanked his hand back, scowled while he rubbed the audacity off his skin, “don’t colour my response with your confirmation bias.”

    "You're so cruel, Izaya!" Each word was whined in woe. 

Stray students that Izaya feared would show up covered their ears while they searched for whom to grumble at, but only found a chilling threat. The few of them dispersed and abandoned the duo.

    "Indeed, I am."

    "At this rate, I'll grow old and undesirable before anything can happen."

    "That's not my problem."

    "Well I insist that you make it your problem! That way I can fix it just like I tend to your ailments and injuries. I won't be made a defeatist just because you adamantly deny the fact that you want me to touch you up—in more than one way." 

A chuckle hung up Izaya.

    "And what a touchy subject that you fail to drop. You know that I can turn you into the officials for your sexual advances and disrespect of my wishes at any time. Wouldn’t that solve my problems just as well?”

Izaya cocked his smirk and crossed his arms; expectant of Shinra’s surrender going without a hitch. In lieu of that, another form of hitch formed in Shinra’s breath as he remembered the time when Shizuo was turned-in for a dumb reason.

Still, his rebuttal was found after a shiver, hitched a ride from the relief, and realigned their pace.

    "Come on now, Izaya, you know we both ignore morality; at the very least I do and admit it. So rest assured, I'll hit you up again with the idea later on."

    "Oh, I hardly doubt that you will, my dear friend."

Shinra hummed—pat Izaya on the shoulder with a self-confident smile.

    "Okay!"

His peculiar response ended their conversation on an awkward note, it really didn't go along with what Izaya said prior and if that weren't normal he would have taken offence that he wasn’t listened to.

Thus it was thrown aside in favour of continuing their circuit of identical corners and walkways; intentionally without a care of how close it was until homeroom.

Though the energy from before died down quickly before they started down a new avenue of discussion.

    “But to be honest, I've thought about us more."

Curious of what necessitated a 'but' precursor and a drop in his tone—a mention of ‘us’—Izaya flipped attention towards his pensive friend. Whom was overly so and a little too unsure of himself.

    "We're friends...right?”

Izaya tripped over his footing as well his thoughts.

    “Dubiously so, but here we are." 

He swatted his...dubious friend as if the tease would kill the heavy air; out of habit Shinra didn’t flinch nor release the somber tilt from his lip.

    "Yeah...so,” he hesitated, “doesn't that mean you won't connect unnecessary feelings to us having sex?"

The mood dissolved into sickness as Izaya listened to the full reel.

    “That's a boon, right?”

    “A boon, hmm?'

    "Right. I mean, it should be…" he trailed off.

    "I suppose to you that’s all I am—” Izaya frowned, “rather, that’s what I am to you; a tool for your selfish whims."

Shinra readjusted the strap on his bag, further fidgeted to correct an uncomfortable hang that persisted its agitation.

    “Mmm, seems you remember what this whole plan is for: to prevent me from shamefully disappointing Celty, correct?"

    Is he questioning me with what he’s spouted to me?

    "Tch, how could I forget the disgusting mental image of you two going at it when you keep reminding me of it?"

It was strained, but Shinra managed to slip into the reminiscent smile he wore whenever his love interest was brought up.

    "How could you suggest that? Anything that involves Celty is purely beautiful. Which in respect of my angel I want to remain pure for her, despite my obviously tainted thoughts."

Once again he held some restraint and it seemed unbeknownst to the teen himself like he half-mindedly kept to an abused script rather than ad-libbing. Which Izaya decided to lean into the sudden turn as punishment or to defend his own feelings—both really.

    "You do realise your logic makes no sense? Having sex strips you of your virginity."

    "Naturally. Which is the exact reason that I’m purely opting for male relations, it's not quite the same as making love with a woman, but similar enough setups and motions. Therefore it keeps me a virgin in the important way.

    "Although, if I’m going after an older woman, that is quite the perversion. Un-pure, in fact. Oh. Oh no… Will that tamper with Celty's purity if she goes after me: a man centuries younger than herself…?”

His prior confliction seemed forgotten for a moment as he fell into his practised character.     “Get to your point, pervert.”

    "Err, right… perhaps you know this, but it's said that only fools will rush haphazardly into things without regard. Which, one and the same, I’m that fool whom the wise men speak of; hopelessly in love and blinded by it. Where do you think that puts me, Izaya? I’m at the precipice of doing whatever it takes to fulfil my goal.”

To this he performed a hard pause and stared beyond Izaya’s sight into his mind, both conscious and unconscious; it unnerved him, made him sweat.

    “I’m not the only one you could use. There are heartless bastards who are just as absent of a mind. Easier to puppeteer.”

    “I don’t particularly have a deathwish, I’d rather mess around with you than wrestle with a dimwit beast like Shizuo.”

Shinra flinched in preparation of being mauled by violent repercussion as if said beast was actually present. If it was a joke to lighten both their moods it went ignored.

While his friend comedically struggled with traumatic memories, Izaya explicitly worried about himself. How the previous implication deemed their friendly get-togethers more as a requirement of acquaintances to fulfil a specific purpose.

Izaya watched Shinra emote through a summoned monologue while stuck on mute. His mouth flapped silently, looked playful a few separate times while he nudged Izaya with a wry wink. His bright smile would immediately fall whenever he didn’t get a response before he'd continue—defeated. 

Whatever he rambled was in vain.

Though the absent audio made Izaya's internal voice scream.

Somewhere within him nagged a question of if he’d actually made up his mind—if he really wanted none of the sexual intimacy that Shinra kept offering, with or without either of them smitten. He didn’t and he wasn’t, he really wanted none of that baggage. 

Yet there was tension, and it’d been eating away at his brain; the swirls of muscle that had become a victim of jealousy, a parasite that started to take over his rationale, motor skills, and more.

    "...plus he's not as much my type aesthetically unlike y—"

Shinra turned mute for real as he went stiff —was killed on the spot, stood a corpse in rigour mortis.

At the changed demeanour Izaya scrunched his features to a focal point, that is until he looked down the hall. It appeared that the devil was summoned by his repeated mention—Shizuo, the dolt who'd surely wreck both of their mornings.

    Moderately, Shinra began to shake. "Oh god, he heard me."

Given the grim aura that surrounded Shizuo, Izaya gathered that he was one agitation away from ornery, which bode terribly.

    Izaya masked his nerves with a sigh, "Shinra that's improbable. Maybe not impossible, considering his inhuman hearing, but—"

    "The hell did you manipulative bastards do?!" 

As if to prove the hypothesis, Shizuo locked sight on them, his ornery scowl confirmed; with a chip on his shoulder, a prominent rip on his jacket’s shoulder.

Decidedly he must have read their racked nerves as damnation of some ploy that hadn’t been actioned, or maybe it had, Izaya wasn’t sure if Shinra had set up something fishy.

    "Surprising as it is for your amateur reasoning, Detective Gumshoe, we did nothing."

Shizuo looked between Izaya and Shinra in doubt and looped through his scrutiny again. Oddly enough he settled shifty eyes on the other teen though targeted both of them—just to be unfair.

    "Eep!!" Shinra weaved a hyperbolic squeal into his legitimate reason to falter.

Though there wasn’t an excuse for his dart around Izaya to create a safe base out of him, both slim and inefficient. Especially there wasn’t a good reason for Shinra to grasp onto his cover, nor was there to hold his waist fake means to stabilise himself before he wrapped them around front. It was too intimate a hold for the hostile setting, but the teen kept to his whim.

    Ah...perhaps this was planned...

Shinra perched his chin on Izaya's shoulder to keep watch of their enemy.

    "Prove I'm innocent, Izaya!"

    "Like hell he's innocent!" Shizuo yelled.

In one sense Shinra couldn’t be proven guilty, but he wasn’t innocent. He took advantage of Izaya’s skyrocketed endorphins as Shizuo trudged closer—he pilfered them, used them. Subtly nuzzled a spot behind his ear; continued his act, but seemed flustered as his breath was shallow from underlined fear, yet focused.

It was that manipulative sway Izaya swore he liked, but now he felt betrayed by his propensity to love anything off-kilter.

Anger ran up his spine and ended in a shudder around the spot Shinra laid his head. His pulse raced furthermore as a palm rolled discreetly under his jacket and flattened upon his heart to monitor its speed.

Shinra spoke. It was loud enough to combat the hallway chatter—clearly the beast as well—but went unheard by anyone other than his victim.

    “Interesting, fear really does bring you excitement. I should’ve known...” 

Shinra hummed uncharacteristically pleased for scientific discovery. That or Izaya's preference had grown askew over time and made a calculated tone of a scientist attractive, repulsive given the circumstances. Though that preference could possibly be tied to his personal inspector who tested his fortitude against prior jealousy.

For a second he swore he felt their pulse sync up with the heartbeat against his back. Enough to count for evidence that maybe… Shinra toyed with both their feelings.

Regardless of what he had done to invoke Shizuo's wrath as a trap, Izaya felt he was made a lab rat, a joke.

As Shizuo swiftly decreased the space between them, he turned against his friend.

    Two can play this game, asshole.

Within the last moment, Izaya overlapped their hands in tender opposition of the aggressive atmosphere, which shocked Shinra. Izaya used the opportunity to pry the leech from his back and shoved him into the battlefield.

    "W-woah!"

Shinra spun and tripped, and by the look of it, his fear shot up to one-hundred percent genuine.

    "Shizu-chan," Izaya smirked, "have at him."

    "Seriously?!" Shinra staggered off to evade—sounded a hair amused, but looked terrified as Shizuo picked up speed.

    "Don't start acting like that damn bastard, Shiiinrrraaa!"

In the distance, they were now a pair of ants.

Left on the sidelines, Izaya mused.

    "You know…”

His hands formed a frame out in front of him with an eye closed for better focus. 

    “I don't see how anyone could get tired of this show like they do with Shizu-chan and me.”

    He clicked a fake shutter, “they must have no appreciation for good humour." Izaya wished he had an actual camera to photograph his revenge—for precious school memories soon to end, not to mention good blackmail. In spite of that, he hoped Shinra would forget the discovery he made in the heat of the moment. Anything more discovered of him in that fashion would be worse than a public downfall, it would be a private tragedy. And really, it wasn’t just that he may get a bit…excited in dangerous situations; honestly, that should’ve been obvious and he knew Shinra knew that. It was probably an excuse for his shitty friend to associate sexual excitement with himself. It was a flimsy experiment with failed results, but only because Izaya already got that sort of reaction when it involved Shinra.

As his hands slid from the air into his pockets he willed his rampant pulse to normalise—much to his dismay, it didn't budge.

    “My, what a pickle he’s stuck me in.”

His mood soured just like vinegar and salt, with the purpose of the sexual endeavour fresh on his mind. What his fool reminded him of—rather not his, but it was easier to say and pleasant ring. 

Shinra played with his sweet spots and weaknesses; he did it too well like he paid unnecessary attention to someone who was just a target for his ploy. That in and of itself was trouble.

    Izaya skipped class and club alike—he lacked the energy to struggle through their time together alone. That and he couldn't stop focussing on the undeterminable expression Shinra wore while they exchanged souls…

    “...I’m at the precipice of doing whatever it takes to fulfil my goal…”

Correct him if that didn’t feel like a hint for him to pick up.

—

AN: What a slog writing this has been, ahaha...

[dfroza]

An ancient Letter

written to conserve spiritual truth as inspired by the Spirit within Paul is what we read Today as the first chapter of Romans:

I, Paul, am a devoted slave of Jesus Christ on assignment, authorized as an apostle to proclaim God’s words and acts. I write this letter to all the believers in Rome, God’s friends.

The Letter of Romans, Chapter 1:1 (The Message)

and the whole first chapter in The Passion Translation:

Paul, a loving and loyal servant of the Anointed One, Jesus. He called me to be his apostle and set me apart with a mission to reveal God’s wonderful gospel. I write this letter to all his beloved chosen ones in Rome, for you have been divinely summoned to be holy in his eyes. May his joyous grace and total well-being, flowing from our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, rest upon you.

My commission is to preach the good news. Yet it is not entirely new, but the fulfillment of the hope promised to us through the many prophecies found in the sacred Scriptures. For the gospel is all about God’s Son. As a man he descended from David’s royal lineage, but as the mighty Son of God he was raised from the dead and miraculously set apart with a display of triumphant power supplied by the Spirit of Holiness. And now Jesus is our Lord and our Messiah. Through him a joy-producing grace cascaded into us, empowering us with the gift of apostleship, so that we can win people from every nation into a faithful commitment to Jesus, to bring honor to his name. And you are among the chosen ones who received the call to belong to Jesus, the Anointed One.

[Paul’s Desire to Visit Rome]

I give thanks to God for all of you, because it’s through your conversion to Jesus Christ, that the testimony of your strong, persistent faith is spreading throughout the world. And God knows that I pray for you continually and at all times. For I passionately serve and worship him with my spirit in the gospel of his Son.

My desire and constant prayer is that I would be able to come and visit you, according to the plan and timing of God. I yearn to come and be face-to-face with you and get to know you. For I long to impart to you the gift of the Spirit that will empower you to stand strong in your faith. Now, this means that when we come together and are side by side, something wonderful will be released. We can expect to be co-encouraged and co-comforted by each other’s faith!

So, my dear brothers and sisters, please don’t interpret my failure to visit you as indifference, because many times I’ve intended to come but have not been released to do so up to now. For I long to enjoy a harvest of spiritual fruit among you, like I have experienced among the nations. Love obligates me to preach to everyone, to those who are among the elite and those who are among the outcasts, to those who are wise and educated as well as to those who are foolish and unlearned. This is why I am so excited about coming to preach the wonderful message of Jesus to you in Rome!

[The Gospel of Power]

I refuse to be ashamed of sharing the wonderful message of God’s liberating power unleashed in us through Christ! For I am thrilled to preach that everyone who believes is saved—the Jew first, and then people everywhere! This gospel unveils a continual revelation of God’s righteousness—a perfect righteousness given to us when we believe. And it moves us from receiving life through faith, to the power of living by faith. This is what the Scripture means when it says:

“We are right with God through life-giving faith!”

[God Reveals His Wrath]

For God in heaven unveils his holy anger breaking forth against every form of sin, both toward ungodliness that lives in hearts and evil actions. For the wickedness of humanity deliberately smothers the truth and keeps people from acknowledging the truth about God. In reality, the truth of God is known instinctively, for God has embedded this knowledge inside every human heart. Opposition to truth cannot be excused on the basis of ignorance, because from the creation of the world, the invisible qualities of God’s nature have been made visible, such as his eternal power and transcendence. He has made his wonderful attributes easily perceived, for seeing the visible makes us understand the invisible. So then, this leaves everyone without excuse.

Throughout human history the fingerprints of God were upon them, yet they refused to honor him as God or even be thankful for his kindness. Instead, they entertained corrupt and foolish thoughts about what God was like. This left them with nothing but misguided hearts, steeped in moral darkness. Although claiming to be super-intelligent, they were in fact shallow fools. For only a fool would trade the unfading splendor of the immortal God to worship the fading image of other humans, idols made to look like people, animals, birds, and even creeping reptiles!

This is why God lifted off his restraining hand and let them have full expression of their sinful and shameful desires. They were given over to moral depravity, dishonoring their bodies by sexual perversion among themselves—all because they traded the truth of God for a lie. They worshiped and served the things God made rather than the God who made all things—glory and praises to him for eternity of eternities! Amen!

For this reason God gave them over to their own disgraceful and vile passions. Enflamed with lust for one another, men and women ignored the natural order and exchanged normal sexual relations for homosexuality. Women engaged in lesbian conduct, and men committed shameful acts with men, receiving in themselves the due penalty for their deviation.

And because they thought it was worthless to embrace the true knowledge of God, God gave them over to a worthless mind-set, to break all rules of proper conduct. Their sinful lives became full of every kind of evil, wicked schemes, greed, and cruelty. Their hearts overflowed with jealous cravings, and with conflict and strife, which drove them into hateful arguments and murder. They are deceitful liars full of hostility. They are gossips who love to spread malicious slander. With inflated egos they hurl hateful insults at God, yet they are nothing more than arrogant boasters. They are rebels against their parents and totally immoral. They are senseless, faithless, ruthless, heartless, and completely merciless. Although they are fully aware of God’s laws and proper order, and knowing that those who do all of these things deserve to die, yet they still go headlong into darkness, encouraging others to do the same and applauding them when they do!

The Letter of Romans, Chapter 1 (The Passion Translation)

From the beginning, creation in its magnificence enlightens us to His nature. Creation itself makes His undying power and divine identity clear, even though they are invisible; and it voids the excuses and ignorant claims of these people because, despite the fact that they knew the one true God, they have failed to show the love, honor, and appreciation due to the One who created them!

The Letter of Romans, Chapter 1:20-21 (The Voice)

and in my daily reading of a chapter of each Testament as i’ve been doing and sharing for many years now, moving along sequentially through the books from Genesis to Malachi in the Old Testament (given the exception of Psalms and Proverbs which are read daily), and from Matthew to Revelation in the New Testament, to start over again at the beginning upon the conclusion of each, which means the reading of the Old Testament takes much longer and so the pairing of the chapters with the New will vary over time, and Today’s pairing with Romans 1 is chapter 2 of Malachi in which we see God pointing out the significance of holding to truth in Love.

chapter #2 from the book of Malachi:

[Desecrating the Holiness of God]

“And now this indictment, you priests! If you refuse to obediently listen, and if you refuse to honor me, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, in worship, then I’ll put you under a curse. I’ll exchange all your blessings for curses. In fact, the curses are already at work because you’re not serious about honoring me. Yes, and the curse will extend to your children. I’m going to plaster your faces with rotting garbage, garbage thrown out from your feasts. That’s what you have to look forward to!

“Maybe that will wake you up. Maybe then you’ll realize that I’m indicting you in order to put new life into my covenant with the priests of Levi, the covenant of God-of-the-Angel-Armies. My covenant with Levi was to give life and peace. I kept my covenant with him, and he honored me. He stood in reverent awe before me. He taught the truth and did not lie. He walked with me in peace and uprightness. He kept many out of the ditch, kept them on the road.

“It’s the job of priests to teach the truth. People are supposed to look to them for guidance. The priest is the messenger of God-of-the-Angel-Armies. But you priests have abandoned the way of priests. Your teaching has messed up many lives. You have corrupted the covenant of priest Levi. God-of-the-Angel-Armies says so. And so I am showing you up for who you are. Everyone will be disgusted with you and avoid you because you don’t live the way I told you to live, and you don’t teach my revelation truly and impartially.”

Don’t we all come from one Father? Aren’t we all created by the same God? So why can’t we get along? Why do we desecrate the covenant of our ancestors that binds us together?

Judah has cheated on God—a sickening violation of trust in Israel and Jerusalem: Judah has desecrated the holiness of God by falling in love and running off with foreign women, women who worship alien gods. God’s curse on those who do this! Drive them out of house and home! They’re no longer fit to be part of the community no matter how many offerings they bring to God-of-the-Angel-Armies.

And here’s a second offense: You fill the place of worship with your whining and sniveling because you don’t get what you want from God. Do you know why? Simple. Because God was there as a witness when you spoke your marriage vows to your young bride, and now you’ve broken those vows, broken the faith-bond with your vowed companion, your covenant wife. God, not you, made marriage. His Spirit inhabits even the smallest details of marriage. And what does he want from marriage? Children of God, that’s what. So guard the spirit of marriage within you. Don’t cheat on your spouse.

“I hate divorce,” says the God of Israel. God-of-the-Angel-Armies says, “I hate the violent dismembering of the ‘one flesh’ of marriage.” So watch yourselves. Don’t let your guard down. Don’t cheat.

You make God tired with all your talk.

“How do we tire him out?” you ask.

By saying, “God loves sinners and sin alike. God loves all.” And also by saying, “Judgment? God’s too nice to judge.”

The Book of Malachi, Chapter 2 (The Message)

[sometimesrosy]

I had what many may consider a stupid thought, but I'm going to throw it out there anyway. Am I the only one kind of regretting the fact that we'll never have arrogant-but-softhearted Bellamy and headstrong-but-wounded Clarke from the dropship days in sarcastic, banter-filled love with heavy innuendo and physical attraction? They're in flat-out I'll-die-for-you-you're-my-life-partner kind of love now, which is beautiful...But I still think the show missed an opportunity to build up there 1/2

I mean, the romantic relationship potential could have gotten a few more scenes in Season 1. Just a little more flirting or something would’ve been nice. We probably won’t see them spar or argue ever again like they used to. Bellamy can forgive her in the span of a day for holding a gun on him. They’re in so deep, and it’s warm and real and so adult and thorough now, which is awesome. I’m all about it. Bring on the Bellarke! Yet I can’t help but feel a little sad/cheated that we missed the 2/2

3/3 lighter, teasing, flirtatious, sexier build-up? And I know there was the issue of Finn in S1 and the “story is long.” I’m well-informed that it’s a long and winding road with many arcs and at least 5 seasons. I get the concept of a slow burn. But it could have been cool to see a near-romantic miss in S1 - the 108 tree scene doesn’t count - they’d just killed someone. I’m not expecting a deep analysis or anything. Just fan-girling I suppose. But I can’t be the only one thinking this.

Well, I mean, that’s the thing about telling stories. You’ve got to make the choices. The things you choose to focus on are what gives you the story you are eventually going to tell, and if you focus on the wrong things, you weaken your story. You have to pick. If they did the light flirtation that you wanted in season 1, that would have made the story a different thing. It would have made their relationship a different thing. Having that possibility there from the beginning would have brought the physicality to bear much sooner. They would have been more sure about where they stood with each other. They would have pushed their relationship. It would have actually been MORE about romance and flirtation and knowing the possibility was there.

And the thing is, they didn’t want it to be. And they wanted their characters to separate and go on their personal journeys, whether that was about love and forgiveness or morality and authority. To have the beginning of a relationship with Bellamy and Clarke, even just flirting, would have made what happened in season 3 worse. Because it would have been something that was already on the edge of canon. It would have made the whole season more about dating, and less about the deeper connection that lay under their attraction. Putting aside the attraction completely, meant the focus was on the soul connection.

And when something is about physical attraction, there’s always the question… is it just lust? is it just about needing someone? is it just sex? is it just comfort? is there a power game? is it just what they’re supposed to be doing? is it a means to an end? is it real?  Which, to be honest, were questions with every relationship Bellamy and Clarke had since the beginning of the show. Think back. Every single one. From Satisfied Girl to Finn to Roma to Niylah to Raven to Lxa to Bree. All their sexual relationships have questions over them. Whether they were real love (which three of them were) or not.

Season 1 had them flirting with the possibility of making it a light and flirty thing, like you said. We saw Bellamy with the girls, one of whom looked very much like Clarke (not a coincidence, particularly since she came back twice, both times when he could have taken it physical with Clarke and he turned away from her.) It was an option. We saw Bellamy NOT pursue it, consciously, with Clarke. It says something. It says she was already more important than that to him. We saw Clarke reach out to Finn for comfort, and offer him the same. But it was a mess of conflicting intentions and needs and complicated connections. It lead to nothing good, except bringing them Raven. Would she have reached out to Bellamy if disaster hadn’t struck? Quite likely. And it would have been an entirely different story than the one they told.

I do think they played with a platonic love relationship in season 2, a kind of courtly knight/princess thing, what with the Gustus parallel and Bellamy being sent into the mountain on her order. But it turns out the princess was not feeling so platonic (my interpretation) and while from Bellamy’s side, it might have looked like that knightly ideal, and he even accepted that, I don’t think that was the way Clarke saw it, particularly with the comparison between Bellamy and Finn, and later, about not being ready to start something with anyone. The only two options, honestly, being Lxa or Bellamy. 

Season 3 had the love between Clarke and Bellamy grow while they were separated. The intensity of their feelings for each other deepened to the point that they independently sacrificed their lives for the other’s. The pain and hurt caused by Clarke’s abandonment and Bellamy’s rejection did not make their feelings go away though. The love between Bellamy and Clarke was tested and confirmed, before it ever became physical. It is real. It is true. It’s respectful. It’s mutual. It is serious. It is important. That period of testing was an important story to tell, I think. Many romantic relationships do NOT make it through that kind of test, or even smaller tests. Romance can be pretty flighty, to be honest. Not all romance can stand having a rival for affections, or being on opposite sides of a political divide, or distance, or hurting each other (which is part of the package when you become vulnerable to another person.)  Season 3 showed that the relationship between Clarke and Bellamy could not only withstand these challenges, but actually grow deeper despite/because of them.

So what was the purpose of season 4, which has offered the audience so much hope and frustration? Well. Season 4 to me has been about building tension, in both the Bellarke romance and the plight of humanity. They start full of possibility, but bit by bit, each option is knocked out until they are being forced into their only option. It has become downright claustrophobic, leading to the second culling and the locking of the doors of the bunker. But we still have Bellarke running around, working on their last chance. For survival. For admission of feelings. Because those feelings have also been pushed to the breaking point, and they too have been denied, again and again, pushed aside, given obstacles, from Clarke’s admission of love for L to Bellamy turning aside from Clarke’s cheek on his hand, to his steering away from love, to her staying on science island, from his refusing to agree to her bunker plan, to her holding a gun on him,  to Bree, to Niylah. These are the things they saw of the other. They each showed the other that they were not interested. And YET, the AUDIENCE saw Bellamy telling Jaha she centered him, saw her selling 50 of her people for his life, saw the way they looked at each other when the other couldn’t see, saw how much Bree looked like Clarke, saw how Clarke couldn’t leave Bellamy outside of the bunker. It wasn’t until Bellamy realized that Clarke just sacrificed humanity for his sake that I think one of them saw how much the other loved them. 

Season 4 was about upping the intensity of their feelings for each other, while putting obstacles in the way until it seems impossible and unreachable and now time is up and it still hasn’t happened. 

TENSION

They’re not giving us a sweet love story. They’re giving us a love story so vital and important and desperate that it feels inevitable– and impossible. 

They’re giving us a passionate love story that is about true souls meeting and being held apart. They’re keeping us on the edge of love admission and consummation. We think, they couldn’t possibly hold it off any longer, and they do. 

They’ve absolutely been working us from the very beginning. The intention for romantic bellarke was hinted at from the pilot. But they held it off from becoming admitted outright, took OUT a scene that would have been canon intention from Day Trip. ON PURPOSE. Because it would have taken them over the edge that they intended to ride. If the show had ended with season 3, they could very well have finished the series with Clarke and Bellamy finally admitting their feelings. But they got  two more seasons, so they pushed those romantic 3B-4A feelings, until the very edge of making them canon, on both Clarke’s side and Bellamy’s, and then pulled it back again. None of this would have been possible if they had given us more in season 1. Or it wouldn’t have felt as apocalyptic. And guess, what? They want this story to be apocalyptic.

[wendynerdwrites]

Recovered Jonsa Fic #10: Jon’s Targaryen Vein

Another Fic recovery

Prompt: Show verse prompt if you're so kind? Jon's Targaryen vein starts showing while he falls for Sansa.

At first, when the dreams come, he tries to convince himself that it is Ygritte he sees. She has flowing red hair. And while he never saw Ygritte in silks, he told her that he’d like to. So he tells himself in the morning, when he wakes to sticky linens and sweat-slicked skin, that he dreams of Ygritte.

In so many dreams, he’s chasing her. Her back is to him, and she’s laughing. Jon spent so much time either chasing Ygritte, or feeling like he was.

There are moments during the day when Sansa will say something, do something, that will make his breath catch or his palms sweat. The Lady of Winterfell is on his council, and she often says things that he agrees with so strongly he feels winded. He tells himself that it’s because her decisions and opinions remind him of Father. He tells himself that the reason his heart flutters when she enters a room is because he has her back when he thought he’d never see his family again.

Then one night, during a dream, he shouts out to the woman running from him that he’s going to tear her pretty silk dress off of her. And the woman stops laughing and shouts.

“If you do, I won’t fix any more of your clothing!”

Ygritte didn’t sew. If someone tore something in their raiding party, another member, Longspear Ryk, mended it.

It’s not Ygritte’s voice, not Ygritte’s accent. It’s not Ygritte.

Jon stops short in his dream and realizes he’s in the Great Hall of Winterfell. What are they doing here? The woman stops running too, and turns. And Jon realizes she’s much taller than Ygritte was. He sees her large blue eyes and full, pouting lips. He sees the direwolf embroidered on her bodice. He sees the greater swell of her breasts.

He sees Sansa. And his ardor only rises. “I will not. I would remove your gown gently,” he tells his sister.

She laughs and challenges him to prove it. Next moment, they’re in his bedchamber, surrounded by candlelight, and he is pulling the ribbons of her bodice through the bindings as he lowers her down upon his furs.

And he wakes, sitting bolt upright, still hard, panting. And he knows he’s been lying to himself.

When he sees his sister at breakfast, she looks at him with concern. “Jon, are you well? You look… different, somehow.”

“I’m fine!” He informs her, too eagerly, as he takes his seat and grabs for some poached eggs. A white, tapered hand lays itself upon his wrist and he nearly jumps.

“Are you sure?” She asks, looking into her eyes, “You’d tell me if something were amiss, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course!” He lies through a stiff smile. She does not look convinced, but she drops it.

The day is torture. His sister is elegance incarnate. Every movement has a steady grace to it. She speaks with eloquence and conviction. And even in the dim light of the wintry North, her auburn hair manages to gleam like polished copper.

Jon almost wishes this were mere lust, but it isn’t. He’s been in love before. He knows what love is. He experiences it now. And it is not the love one feels for a sister.

He realizes now that deep down, he’s felt this way for a while, and merely lied to himself. To be honest, many of Sansa’s positions, which Jon held in such esteem, are not what Ned Stark might have chosen at all. They lack an adherence to tradition, they are pragmatic, yet innovative. Some are less than altruistic. For instance, she pressures the Vale Lords to bring Robert Arryn north to swear fealty to Jon. She is also blackmailing Littlefinger for his money and connections.

She is doing what is best for the North, perhaps, but they are not Ned Stark’s methods.

Jon realizes that they are hers and his, and that he agrees with them, even the morally grey ones.

The next night, his dreams pick up where the last let off. He dreams of full, white breasts, a red-haired cunny that tastes like a pomegranate, Sansa’s voice calling his name.

The day after, Lord Cerwyn asks for a private audience with Jon and requests to begin courting Sansa. Jon refuses at once, and spends the next week glaring at the young man.

He is atop the ramparts one afternoon, trying to clear his head, when his sister arrives. She looks furious.

“You told me we had to trust each other. Yet you won’t trust me!”

“I trust you more than anyone!” He protests.

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s amiss?!” She demands. “You’ve been lying to me!”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “What isn’t amiss?”

“There’s something new, Jon,” she insists, coming close, “Tell me.”

“If I did, you’d run from me. I’m a bloody monster.”

“If this is about your resurrection----”

“---No.” He shakes his head. They’ve been over that. He’d told her of his disgust with that. The unnaturalness of it. The fact that Melisandre did it with her magics. That Shireen Baratheon’s death may have contributed to it. Sansa assured him it was not his fault,t hat he wasn’t a monster. And, for reasons only clear now, that proved enough for him. “It’s about…”

“....About?...”

He clenches his fists and looks at her angrily. “It’s about you!”

She steps back and her eyes widen. “Me? But---”

They are interrupted by shouts from the gates. A page appears moments later. “My King! My Princess! It’s a miracle!”

The miracle turns out to be Bran, alive, riding upon the back of Howland Reed’s daughter. Their younger brother arrives with stories to tell. Many stories.

It is three days later that Sansa visits him privately, in his solar. Jon stands over his fire, staring into the flames, clutching a cup of mulled wine. Melisandre once told him to look into the flames to see his destiny. He just sees flames. But he supposes that’s now fitting, considering.

A soft hand lands upon his shoulder, and he looks at her reluctantly. Her face is kind, concerned. “Are you well, Jon?”

He shrugs. “I’m conflicted.”

“Jon, you remain king. You realize that, don’t you?”

“That is not my concern.”

She gives a sigh of relief. “Then what, Jon? Is it… Your parents?”

He closes his eyes. “It’s one thing. I may be a child of rape. My whole life the man I believed to be my father lied to me and everyone else. I may end up drawing a new threat to Winterfell if this dragon queen we’ve heard of fears me challenging her claim to the Iron Throne---”

“---Daenerys was always going to be a threat. Our--My father was instrumental in overthrowing her family, we’ve declared ourselves independent. None of that is your fault.”

He sighs, but smiles slightly. She is right. “I suppose. Tell me, Sansa… Am I still a Stark to you?”

“Yes.”

His stomach sinks. “So I am still your brother to you?”

At this, she hesitates. “Brother, cousin, what does it matter? You are a Stark, and the person I care for most in this world.”

There’s a pause, then her eyes narrow. “Jon… The thing that was bothering you before Bran arrived. You said it was about me. What was it?”

He closes his eyes, looks away, and takes a long drink from his cup. “I wish you would not ask that. It is perhaps what I am most conflicted about.”

“I think, if anything, I’ve proven I am skilled at helping you resolve conflicts. Especially ones which already involve me.” She runs her hand down his arm. “Come now, Jon, tell me.”

Jon empties his cup. “Let’s just say my feelings for you began to hint at my true ancestry before Bran arrived.”

There’s another pause, this one more pregnant than the last. Her hand withdraws.

“You mean…”

“Aye.” He sets the cup upon the mantle and turns to her. Her face is unreadable. “I’m in love with you.”

She folds her hands in front of her. “I… I see…”

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, “I realize this must horrify you.”

Sansa looks at her hands for a moment, then up at him. “You--- You would think it would. But… Perhaps all that time with Cersei Lannister affected me more than I realized. Or perhaps I’ve simply been driven mad. But… For someone like you to want me so… it doesn’t upset me. In fact, it… Oh, gods! It makes me happy!” “Happy?!” He nearly stumbles back and bangs his head on the mantle. He must be dreaming.

Sansa steps back and hugs herself. “For years, I’ve had men look at me, want me. And those who have been most blatant have nearly always been… unkind, aggressive, even evil. I can’t help it, after so many years, feeling it might have something to do with me. But you… You’re good. You’re brave and gentle and strong. And you’ve never lied to me. I do not think you would not tell me you loved me if you didn’t truly, especially given our… circumstances. And even now, you’re gentle. You’re speaking to me. You want me in the way I’ve always hoped to be wanted. Perhaps it is wrong of me, but… Yes. This makes me happy.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, then looks up at him. “I just wish I knew I felt for you.”

Jon finds that this upsets him far less than he imagined. If anything, this makes sense. “I understand, Sansa. And you don’t have to love me, you realize that, right?”

She nods. “But I want to.”

That makes his heart jump. He steps forward and takes her left hand in both of his. “That’s… that’s enough for me.”

[karalandhuis]

Embracing My Ugliness

I constantly struggle with the conflict between my sinful, human tendencies and the righteous living that is possible through God’s Holy Spirit living in me. This is not a unique struggle. In fact, it’s universal for all Christians. In Romans, Paul describes this conflict: “I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.” (Romans 7:25) Later, in Galatians, he says, “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires.” (Galatians 5:24)

For most of my life, this tension has been a burden. Instead of feeling encouraged and empowered by the presence of God’s Spirit, I have felt guilty and ashamed of my inability to overcome the desires of my sinful nature. Instead of feeling freedom, I have felt stuck, even trapped.

I recently came to realize that for most of my life, I have been skimming over an important detail in this struggle. On my way toward repentance, forgiveness, and transformation, I have been ignoring a glaring truth about myself:

There is an Ugliness in me.

This “sinful nature” that Paul talks about is not just human nature. It’s MY nature. In hurrying on to an attempt to crucify this sinful nature, I fail to acknowledge that it is a very real part of me. If I say to myself, “I am a Christian, so I shouldn’t be bitter,” I can remain in a state of denial.

I have to look my bitterness, my anxiety, my lust, my pride, my Ugliness in the face and fully accept it as a part of who I am. I cannot seek to distance myself from my sins simply because they are embarrassing and shameful. This Ugliness is not my whole identity, but it is there. I cannot ignore it and simultaneously seek to be delivered from it.

In his book, The Gift of Being Yourself, David Benner writes of this in a way that dramatically altered my perspective.

“Some Christians become quite upset at the suggestion that self-acceptance must precede transformation. They argue that self-acceptance is the exact opposite of what we are supposed to do to the parts of self that do not honor God…Scriptures seem clear enough about the importance of crucifying our sin nature. But attempts to eliminate things that we find in our self that we do not first accept as part of us rely on denial, not crucifixion.”

In The Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning says it a slightly different way.

“People have expressed the fear that self-acceptance will abort the ongoing conversion process and lead to a life of spiritual laziness and moral laxity. Nothing could be more untrue. The acceptance of self does not mean to be resigned to the status quo. On the contrary, the more fully we accept ourselves, the more successfully we begin to grow. Love is a far better stimulus than threat or pressure.”

Benner and Manning are speaking about something that I have experienced in Christian communities throughout my life. Because of this fear of “spiritual laziness” and “moral laxity,” Christian teachers tend to emphasize the importance of fleeing from immorality and crucifying the sinful nature. But I’ve never felt like I had permission to embrace my Ugliness.

One of my central struggles with my faith is that I rarely believe that I am truly and deeply loved by God. I simply cannot fathom the irrational affection that he has for humanity in general and ME, specifically. But this love simply must be the foundation of my identity. I cannot embrace my Ugliness and experience transformation until I begin to understand that God embraces me AND my Ugliness.

I wish I had more practical advice to share. I will say that it helps to set aside grandiose plans for a “perfect” relationship with God. Don’t let good goals turn into things that heap guilt and shame on you. God wants to spend time with YOU, the REAL YOU, with all your Ugliness still showing. He’s going to spend your whole life making you and re-making you even if you don’t have a perfect quiet time. Jesus died for us while we were SINNERS, not saints who start every day with an hour of prayer and Bible study.

I also recommend reading the two books I mentioned – The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning and The Gift of Being Yourself by David Benner. I have found so much grace and freedom in these books.

This is not easy. Spiritual growth is difficult because I’m always tempted by the lie that God loves me because I’m growing closer to him. It’s the other way around: I grow closer to God because of his love for me. It’s not about my efforts or achievements. It’s about his love.

“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us.” 1 John 4:10

[kindabraveandlittlestupid]

Its been almost two years and I am still a bit bewildered by the outcome of the 2016 election. Not the fact that Trump has taken over the Conservative Party (that was a long downhill trend that's existed for years) but rather the fact that so many Christian voters not only endorsed his candidacy but continue to support it despite all the evidence to show he is as far from the Christian Faith as he could possibly be.

I know some might want to disqualify me from this conversation most because I have stepped away from the Church. I was a Christian years ago and a part of me still carries that aspect of Jesus where Compassion, Love, and Sacrifice were the cornerstones of being a good person. I still very much apply that to my philosophy and lifestyle but the element of organized religion has left a sour taste in my mouth. Consistently seeing churches align themselves with nationalistic beliefs, avarice and populist anger worries me. There was in fact too many inconsistencies with the faith where we were told to love everyone without condition but more often than not the religious leaders would have their admonitions against women seeking health services, people practicing safe sex, the LGBTQ community and people of other faiths. So, in other words, it wasn't Christianity the faith that pushed me away and made me no longer believe, it was the Christians themselves who seemed to comfortably wade into these dark emotions and make it part of their politics.

So this article we will be exploring the Catholic concept of the Seven Deadly Sins and how they apply to Donald Trump (I am sure some of you are making some distinct connections already). I will talk about the concept of sin towards the end and how we are all subject to it (if you believe in sins, to begin with), the concept of forgiveness (which I spoke of before) and lastly a nod to the few churches in America that do believe in those values of Love, Compassion and Sacrifice and how they should be celebrated for being the outliers that still carry some semblance of decency.

“I like money. I’m very greedy. I’m a greedy person. I shouldn’t tell you that, I’m a greedy – I’ve always been greedy. I love money, right? “ - DT

I was undecided which of the sins he dwelled in the most, the truth is he seemed comfortable in all 7 but the 2 that seemed to define his character the most was Greed or Pride. I feel as though Trump could never happy without being remembered nor do I think he would care to be remembered without being rich. I suspect between the two it was Greed that started to push him down the darker path so we will focus on his wealth first.

The concept of Greed never really fit well into Christian beliefs, in fact, Jesus detested the wealthy believe those who kept wealth to themselves would find no easy entry to heaven. They coveted their possessions and tethered themselves to their riches and refused to give those up to be closer to god. Jesus himself says “Dear children, it is very hard to enter the Kingdom of God. In fact, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God!”

Despite this message being so clear in the bible Donald Trump with his estimated worth of 400 million is still considered a godly man by the Christian community, in fact, he plays well the audience of the Prosperity Gospel who believes that wealthy men are endowed directly by God for their wealth. These are the same churches and preachers who ask their congregation to buy them multiple private jets and large personal properties to eventually receive their own personal wealth after giving to the ‘church’. What is disturbing the most is how many people seem to believe that this would be true despite Christ's literal words contradicting that message and how many devout followers fall into financial ruin while attempt to obtain this magical nirvana of wealth for Christians.

The fact is Trump has consistently put wealth before anything declaring bankruptcies multiple times and making financial withdraw from Russian banks to continue his ‘golden’ lifestyle he becomes accustomed too. This is the first and most prominent sin but don’t worry he makes strong cases for the others.

“Nobody’s ever been more successful than me.” - DT

Pride is nothing new for Donald Trump but it is most certainly his second (or perhaps first) deepest sin. The man literally brands his names to dozens of products and splashes it across his buildings in big gold letters. Some might claim this is brand recognition which are the same poor fools who associate Trumps name with success despite the evidence that most of his products fail (save golf courses) and once again the multiple bankruptcies that followed the man around.

I suppose we can give him some credit for managing to weather all the failures so well. I am sure people find that endearing quality and if he remained a businessman I might have been happy to let him dwell merrily in his field but stepping into the realm of politics when he fails in office we all suffer the consequences of his pride.

“Nobody is better on humility than me.” - DT

“If he says great things about me, I’m going to say great things about him.” - DT on Putin

Perhaps the third reason Trump entered the political realm is not that of Pride alone but also because of Envy as well. This trend started with a younger man who seemed to have come out of nowhere and not only caught the admiration of the nation but seemed to install a spirit of hope among the people, Barak Obama. Trump has since had a vendetta against the former President to try to remove any policy, regulation, or law that Obama put forward in his two terms. While Trump in the past seemed to have some liberal views any essence of progressive policies he might have moderately displayed in the 80′s and 90′s has been replaced with vitriol and hate for our first Black President and Liberals in general.

It shouldn't surprise anyone that he would hate Obama, Trump has been trying to get in the public good graces for years hanging out with celebrities, throwing parties, appearing in movies and making commercials but a lifetime of panhandling for Trump was achieved by Obama in just a few short years. Donny was the odd man out and he took his anger out on Obama leading the charge of the birther movement and sending ‘investigators’ to Hawaii to undermine the former Presidents credibility.  

I suppose the second element of Envy that we should talk about isn't how he was jealous in a negative way (Obama) but how he is jealous of dictators around the world who can simply do what they want. This is probably even more concerning than his Pride or Greed or other sins (save Wrath). He has turned coldly against long-standing allies and now openly praises China, North Korea, Russia, the Philipines, Turkey and Egypt where men have seized power and transcended the rule of law becoming literal Dictators. The admiration and envy the President has shown for these men and expressing how he wishes he could be President for life, thinking about suspending elections like them, attacking the Press and the Courts all scream budding fascist but still free American Christians remain loyal to his doctrine.

 “Knock the crap out of him, would you? I promise you, I will pay your legal fees.” - DT

The first thing that should be said is no one should ever be afraid of Donald Trump in a fight. Small hands and a sluggish body, a single strike to the chest would likely dislodge a piece of plaque in his heart causing him to die right there. We already saw him run from military service with ‘bone spurs’ and whenever he advocates violence is when no one can reach him and having someone else doing the fighting for him. So, in other words, the man is a huge coward.

On the other hand, Trump has influence, influence over his constituents and they are often willing to do as he asks. This is where cowardice hides best, letting other people fight his battles for him. Within his staff he lets other explain his mistakes for him. In regards to the police, he openly encouraged them to rough up suspects. In regards to the military, he is inclined to provide them with more and more funds as the state department remains depleted of diplomats. 

The fact is Trump does tap into wrath lashing out at anyone who does not fall into line with his doctrine. We have seen the high turnover rate of the White House of people who tried to influence him or advice him but his Pride won't allow it and so out the door, they go. This sin scares me the most because I think one day he might actually greenlight a real conflict with someone... calling soldiers to the borders to keep Central/South Americans out, attacking North Korea first (despite their budding romance) or attack someone else sending young men and women to die not because of National Security or some moral high ideal but because his pride was damaged and the armed forces to him is a tool to swing when he doesn't get respect.

“You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful—I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab them by the pussy." - DT

Probably the most well-accounted issue with Donald Trump is blatant disregard for women. While Greed and Pride are the primary motivators that drive him, this is where he often reaps his rewards with a fair amount of collateral damage for his Lust. He has referred to females as pieces of ass, suggested women manipulative, said he would eventually marry a 12-year-old girl and would walk into changing rooms at beauty pageants because no one could stop him.

This is the same man who left two wives before moving onto his third and cheating on her too. He also joked about how he would love to date his daughter only we all know really he isn't joking, he would totally fuck Ivanka if he could get away with it. The fact is he is in a position where he can deny any wrongdoing and can use his ample wealth to pay them (the women) off or bury cases in the courtroom. There is no justice to stop him from molesting or assaulting women where ever he goes and to be frank I would not be surprised if he does it in the oval office with some poor intern.

“Can you believe that, with all of the problems and difficulties facing the U.S., President Obama spent the day playing golf. Worse than Carter.” - DT

Trump has hit a unique milestone having spent 22% of his time in office at his golf courses and single-handedly beat the number of times Obama was on the course in 8 years (36 times), just in 2 years with over 60 trips to the green. This is a low hanging fruit though as we all seen the pictures of the President's giant white ass golfing while we pay his expenses with our collective taxes. 

The real Sloth kicks in at the Whitehouse with his work day. He spends the early morning (9 AM to 11AM) with what he calls Executive Time where watches TV, Eats, Tweets, and Shits before he reaches his first intelligence briefing which he heard hardly holds his attention unless there are pictures, bullet points and his name inserted into the briefings. Just about 12pm he has an hour-long lunch (usually McDonald's) and proceeds into another hour and half of executive time IE Tweeting, TV, Shitting and probably eating some more. Before doing some light work and then retiring to his room and watching more Fox News where he live tweets policies as he watches the shows. 

Now, this is an account of his average day at the White House when he ISNT at his golf course and doesn't have some truck parked by the White House for him to sit in and act like he is driving. This is the 6th major sin and somehow Christians are not running for the hills and seeking better conservative candidates to support their values.

“I think the food is good. I think all of those places, Burger King, McDonald’s, I can live with it” - DT

We end off on Gluttony, I leave this one at the bottom because of the 7 sins its the only one that really doesn't affect us, it just his slow self-destruction from the inside of his gut (or heart) out. I imagine of all the things he has done this one simply makes him look the most relatable, he eats like most Americans do. Hell, even I make a late night stop at Jack in the Box or McDonald's even though I shouldn't. I guess what is most unsettling is how often he seems to be consuming McDonald's and the other fast food chains. On the road he ate KFC, Mickey D's, Pizza and Diet Coke ALL THE TIME, I don't think I can humanly do that. I don't think any of us can possibly do that without saying “Maybe today a Jamba Juice or Salad or just fucking water” but not Donald Trump.

So let's give him the benefit of the doubt and say the campaign trail is a hard place to make a proper meal but it didn't stop at the end of the election. He has a special button now for a coke being delivered to the Oval Office, he now has a cheeseburger before bedtime, he regularly orders chocolate cake from the White Houses kitchen and of course his Envy/Greed/Pride kicks in and whenever he has guests he has three scoops of ice cream while they are served one. I am not even sure why that pisses me off so much but it just shows how much of a douchebag he is that he makes sure he has more than everyone else in the fucking room.

“He knew what he signed up for.” - DT on LaDavid T. Johnson  

So Trump seems to embody literally all the sins in one human being, another achievement for the current President to put on his gravestone. “Sin. No one was better than me at doing them all.” I suspect if I was saying this to Trump supporter they would say something along the lines “We are all sinners, we all give into one of these at one time or another.” Which I would say yes, absolutely which is why we believe in the concept of forgiveness but forgiveness is a two-part exercise, on one hand, we need to be open and willing to forgive people as good human beings, while on the other side a person needs to seek forgiveness and express remorse for those sins. This is where Donald Trump fails and so do his Christian supporters who suggest we should forgive him for his past/current/future transgressions but I don’t think we should. No, not without remorse, reflection, and change coming from him for indulging in those sins. Trump is happy living in sin, he exercises them all daily with his lifestyle and these religious organizations seem to overlook this major character flaws in his morality for short-term political goals. This is where the moral fabric is tearing in society the most, where good people lend themselves to a man who sees’s them as a stepping stone for his own glory and they worship him for it.

I would feel remiss if I didn’t mention that no all churches follow Trump. There are a fair amount of churches that do not see him as someone noble or ethical and choose not to follow him. These churches, however, are the minority and outliers in the Christian Community and we should ask them to be the voices of descent to cripple the choke hold Trump has not only on the GOP but the religion of Christ itself. They should be denouncing him daily for his actions and if you know a church that doesn't support Trump then support them to raise their voice and make them sound like thunder so that those who have sold their souls or lost their way know they have fallen. Lord knows I am sounding preachy here at the end but I wanted to make it clear that there are good churches still and we should not bully them into acting because they have been meek in their response but rather support them and uplifting them higher than the mega-churches that have sold their souls to the Doctrine of Trump.

With Regards, Michael California