#majestic passion

[paxesoterica]

Series mentioned in trailer include:

Combattler V

Aura Battler Dunbine

Mobile Fighter G Gundam

Majestic Prince

Code Geass Lelouch of the Re;surrection

Macross Delta the Movie: Passionate Walküre

Getter Robo Arc

Mobile Suit Gundam the Witch from Mercury Season 1

...with more series to be announced.

[arealtrashact]

Howww do you capture a person's likeness so well even when drawing them as a furry?? It blows my mind every time

You'd be surprised how far a person's most striking features + most recognizable outfit can get you.

[theroyalsblr]

[kaiserouo]

i need more rhino heirloom art

[grayrazor]

New Super Robot Wars!!

...I really need to getting around to finishing SRW 30...

Excited for Macross, Dunbine, G-Gundam, and Witch from Mercury. Guess there haven't been any big Mazinger Z projects for a while, they've got Gundam and Getter as the other two of SRW's big three but not that. I like how the OC mecha looks less Gundam-y than the Huckebein.

Is Majestic Prince really popular? They played a big role in 30 and now they're one of the first announced for the next one too...

The three genders.

[passion-of-arts]

RIEFENSTAHL | HD Trailer (German)

"Riefenstahl" ist ein Dokumentarfilm aus dem Jahr 2024, inszeniert von Regisseur Andres Veiel und produziert von Sandra Maischberger. Der Film berichtet über die Filmregisseurin Leni Riefenstahl.

Der Dokumentarfilm "Riefenstahl" feierte seine Premiere am 29. August 2024 bei den 81. Filmfestspielen in Venedig. Der Majestic Filmverleih bringt den Film am 31. Oktober 2024 in die deutschen Kinos.

Als Regisseurin schuf sie ikonographische Bilder. Ihre ideologische Nähe zum NS-Regime hat sie nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg stets zu leugnen versucht. Leni Reifenstahl hat nur eine Darstellung ihrer Biografie zugelassen: ihre eigene. Der Nachlass einer der umstrittensten Frauen des 20. Jahrhunderts erzählt etwas anderes.

Leni Riefenstahl gilt als eine der umstrittensten Frauen des 20. Jahrhunderts. Ihre ikonografischen Bildwelten von „Triumph des Willens“ und „Olympia“ stehen für perfekt inszenierten Körperkult, für die Feier des Überlegenen und Siegreichen. Und zugleich auch für das, was diese Bilder nicht erzählen: die Verachtung des Unvollkommenen, des vermeintlich Kranken und Schwachen, der Überlegenheit der einen über die anderen. Die Ästhetik ihrer Bilder ist präsenter denn je – und damit auch ihre Botschaft? Der Film geht dieser Frage anhand der Dokumente aus Riefenstahls Nachlass nach - privaten Filmen und Fotos, aufgenommenen Telefonaten mit engen Wegbegleitern, persönlichen Briefen. Bild für Bild, Facette für Facette legt er Fragmente ihrer Biografie frei und setzt sie in einen erweiterten Kontext von Geschichte und Gegenwart. Riefenstahls Hang, die Schönheit durchtrainierter Körper zu zelebrieren, beginnt nicht erst in den 1930er Jahren. Als „Wunschsohn“ ist sie der brutalen Erziehung ihres Vaters ausgeliefert. In den 1920er Jahren setzt sich diese „Schulung“ an ihren Filmsets fort. Sie will mit ihren Schauspielkollegen mithalten - allesamt Männer, die den Ersten Weltkrieg als eine großartige Zeit verklären. Und die bereit sind, sich „vor der Fahne des Führers“ zu versammeln. Mit den Bildern aus „Triumph des Willens“ beschreibt sie sich selbst: Organisierte Kraft und Größe, Demonstration des kontrollierten Körpers, auf Sieg getrimmt. Ihre strikte Leugnung, die Wechselwirkung ihrer Kunst mit dem Terror des Regimes nach dem Krieg anzuerkennen, ist mehr als nur eine abgewehrte Schuld: In persönlichen Dokumenten trauert sie ihren „gemordeten Idealen“ nach. Damit steht sie für viele, die in Briefen und aufgenommenen Telefonaten ihres Nachlasses von einer ordnenden Hand träumen, die endlich mit dem „Scheißstaat“ aufräumt. Dann würde auch ihr Werk eine Renaissance erfahren, in ein, zwei Generationen sei es so weit. – Was, wenn sie recht behalten?

ÜBER DIE PRODUKTION

Der aus 700 Kisten bestehende persönliche Nachlass Riefenstahls befindet sich im Besitz der Stiftung Preußischer Kulturbesitz. Regisseur Andres Veiel (BEUYS, BLACK BOX BRD) und TV-Journalistin Sandra Maischberger (NUR EINE FRAU), die als erste Zugang erhielten, haben es sich zur Aufgabe gemacht, einen tieferen Blick in das Leben von Leni Riefenstahl zu werfen. Sie gehen der Frage auf den Grund, wie Riefenstahl es geschafft hat, dass ihre Arbeiten bis heute – mehr als 80 Jahre nach ihrer Entstehung – als Blaupause für eine Feier des Schönen, Gesunden und Starken dienen. Abseits der bekannten Meinungen über Leni Riefenstahl will der Film eine tiefere Wahrheit freilegen, die aus den Widersprüchen des Nachlasses hervorschimmert. Veiel und Maischberger sehen sich einer Meisterin der Selbstdarstellung und Manipulation gegenüber, die auch dann noch auf ihrer Sicht der Dinge beharrt, wenn diese längst historisch widerlegt ist.

RIEFENSTAHL ist der neue Film des vielfach preisgekrönten Dokumentarfilm-Regisseurs Andres Veiel. Produziert wurde er von Sandra Maischberger und ihrer Vincent Productions (Executive Producer: Enzo Maaß) in Koproduktion mit WDR, SWR, NDR, BR und rbb. Die Produktion wurde mit Mitteln von Film- und Medienstiftung NRW, Medienboard Berlin Brandenburg, FFA, BKM und DFFF gefördert. Beta Cinema hat den Weltvertrieb übernommen. Seine Weltpremiere wird RIEFENSTAHL im Wettbewerb (außer Konkurrenz) bei den 81. Internationalen Filmfestspielen von Venedig feiern.

Text: Majestic Filmverleih | Lilie2A PR

[kkujo]

aki would see a honda jazz and go oh my god it's so ugly. what are we doing to our hondas. they took its cuteness away. it's like the selective breeding of pugs. this madness needs to stop.

[starryadventurer]

Not to like. Vent too much.

Heartbreak is so very hard and yet very beautifully bittersweet when it’s not like anyone did anything wrong. feelings changed and you feel so intensely raw and naked but.

You do not hate this person. You can’t.

They’ve hurt you in a way neither of you knew they would yet they’re looking into your eyes with that same pain knowing they can’t give you what you want. They would understand if you were upset, or even angry, but you know in your heart you would hurt this person you love if you two continued this relationship as you are. The end isn’t your fault.

And those first few nights, when it isn’t the same, listening to that loud thumping in your chest as you just kinda. Let it out. However you can. While thinking of everything good you had.

It’s something so painfully specific in love that it’s just kinda. Wacky to go through.

[buds-and-baubles]

this jester (me) grants you another boone (meme).

[sylusismybby]

Sylus loves the intimacy of missionary, he loves pressing his forehead against yours as his cock moves in and out of you. He admires your face, the expression of absolute bliss you're making all because of him, and he can't get enough. "You look so pretty like this, kitten." His kisses your neck, his fingers interlocking with your as his hips continue to move.

The more moans escape you, the more desperate his thrusts get. "So loud tonight, aren't you?" His cock hits your spot over and over again, the feeling of your velvet walls clenching around him makes Sylus groan. "Fuck kitten....you feel so good." Your body arches causing Sylus to let go of your hands and grab your thighs instead, spreading them wider apart.

You gasp, hands grabbing onto his strong biceps, nails digging into his skin. "My kitten has claws, hmm?" Sylus kisses the side of your neck before kissing up to your lips. The kiss is passionate, the movement of his hips even more so. He is stretching your pussy so deliciously, so good. Your eyes catch his red ones when he pulls back, his face was red, mouth open slightly, he looked majestic like this. Putting your hand on his cheek, you swear that for a moment his whole expression grew soft but it was short as you moved your hips against his own.

Sylus starts fucking you faster, you moan loudly, head falling back against the pillow. He takes hold of your hips, his thrusts getting a little sloppy but still hitting your every spot. You pull him down flush against your body, hips moving against his own. Both of you were close, you came first, feeling the pleasure run all through your body. "That's my girl. Cum for me." He slows down a bit, just enjoying the feeling of your for a little more before leaning his forehead against yours and coming deep inside of you.

[ssiltd]

Mype is a traditional cigarette brand by SSI Exports. This brand is manufactured using high-quality ingredients. This is one of the best brands for individuals who want an extraordinary smoking experience. SSI Exports handles every step of cigarette manufacturing with utmost care.

[travelersrest]

🐺🩷🐺

[cosmictheo]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 | feyd-rautha

( gif credits to @wondrousashes )

—summary: on a calm day back at your home, you shattered away the serenity as you decide to confront feyd about his alleged concubines and the little secrets he seemed so cautious to hide, pushing him further and further to the edge. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 4k —warnings: arranged marriage, jealousy, a bit of implied smut (the actual smut is coming up in the next and last chapter !!!), mentions of sex, mentions of cannibalism, feyd being a slut for the reader (as he should), mentions of killing and death, hot and very passionate love confessions, definitely ooc!feyd.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

The week at Giedi Prime went by so fast that you hardly noticed any of it. The first day had been a bit slow and tedious, but the ones that followed turned out to be more than agreeable and enjoyable, Feyd-Rautha had been very concerned about keeping you entertained and as comfortable as possible, showing you every corner of the palace and walking you around the city.

But for now, you were back at your home for the last visit you would have there before becoming a Harkonnen. Feyd was staying close to you through all the reunion, naturally, diplomatically greeting your family.

“You met his cannibal lovers yet?” Paul's voice echoed inside your head between Feyd's conversations with Duke Leto, your gaze drifting to your brother in absolute alarm, horrified at the question and relieved that, so far, the answer was negative.

“There are rumors that tell how his concubines feed on the hearts of his dead opponents.” Your brother propelled you with the oh-so-cute information about your future husband. “The bastard has not one, but three. I guess you'll have to battle it out with them for his love, that was Duncan said.”

“Stop it, don't be an idiot.” You snapped back at him, averting your gaze from him to Feyd-Rautha, who was conversing ever so formally with Lady Jessica now.

You couldn't imagine him eating of human flesh, nor fucking three different women at the same time. Although, rumors always started from something and during the few times you had been able to get inside Feyd's head, you hadn't seen anything that was remotely pretty or light.

Paul's words managed to resonate in your head, lingering between the walls with a sense of suspicion.

Maybe that was why he never showed you the intimacy of his chambers... because on his bed lay three women compliantly awaiting for his attention and lust.

For some reason, the false image of him fucking them, bodies intertwined and interlinked, voices whimpering and moaning, made you feel respulsive, your guts twisting like a serpent.

You didn't want to believe it was jealousy, but again, your mind never wanted you to believe anything at all.

The palace of the Atreides stood majestically between rocky mountains, with the golden sunlight falling beautifully on the grayish stone walls, bringing in a warm afternoon. Rising magnificently behind your back, standing like a rocky guardian.

Your gaze was on Feyd-Rautha as you walked together along the outskirts balconies of the castle, your greenish dress swaying in the sea breeze, as did your hair, which you wore unusually loose that day, the sweet smell of it had him crazy.

“Do you like it?” You asked him after a few moments of silence, with a hint of a smile that Feyd noticed as he turned to look at you, noticing as well how you waited expectantly for his opinion of your home, which he knew you always held close to your heart.

After a second, he nodded his head, looking at you intently. “I do.”

His blue eyes, which looked as clear as ever under the natural glow of the place followed you as you walked beside him, keeping himself close to you, he could feel the natural warmth of your body and the sweet smell of your scent.

It was the first time you saw his eyes showing their true color, for back in his home, they rarely reflected so much brightness and his orbs glowed so beautifully in the sunlight. They possessed the most beautiful shade of blue, reminding you of the ocean, of home.

“It's nothing like my home.” Feyd-Rautha added in a more amused, lighter tone of voice, with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, lowering his gaze to the ground, noting how the grass softened each of his steps on it.

“Obviously. Caladan is everything that Giedi Prime and Arrakis are not.” You answered him, snorting the words out with a soft chuckle that was carried away by the wind, turning your head to look at him once you stopped at the edge of a greenish cliff after descending one of the many rocky staircases that rose up through the hills.

The sea stretched into the immensity of the horizon and the water was uncommonly calm, waves lapping the shore relentlessly. It was a calm and peaceful scene out there, quite the opposite of what you felt inside, as you felt a tempest of emotions raging in your soul.

“Have you been with someone else like this?”

There was another one of your little questions again.

And he pondered the answer, dragging his eyes as blue as the ocean itself in front of them, back to you.

But Feyd-Rautha was rather certain that you already knew the answer, that you already had it, you could tell by the way he looked at you and the way he addressed you. Because it was enough to be clear that he had never been this way with anyone before, he had never spoken to anyone like this and he had never been so pleased to be in someone's company, basically in his entire life.

“The only people I've ever had this close to me are my family or my enemies, neither of whom I think entertain my presence very much.” Was his reply, honest and respectful. His husky voice, in contrast to the graceful sea breeze was a pleasant and comforting noise to you.

His words were masked with a touch of amusement, as he used to do in the last days when he spoke to you, it seemed as if you brought back that inner child he had, a stranger who felt increasingly closer.

But even using that tone, his eyes told you that he was not lying, that he was giving you the pure truth.

Yet, somehow you were not satisfied with his response. And he knew it.

“Have you been with other women?”

Feyd drew in a breath, half-opening his lips, air hissing between his teeth.

“So I'm assuming you've heard about the rumors about me?”

And there he was, answering you with another question to challenge you back, to play with your head as he had grown to love to do during the short time you had been in each other's company. Your conversations always ended up being a game of back and forth, a game of a tension that would be cut with the least sharp blade.

“My future wife likes to guide what she believes by mere rumors?” He pressed further.

And as always, you exhaled the air held inside you, twisting your head slightly, looking at him with incredulous eyes. “These are not rumors, Feyd —I've seen it.���

His blue eyes narrowed as he walked closer to you, expression both intrigued and yet defiant. “What do you mean you've seen it? Don't play games with me now, woman.”

“Don't threaten me, man,” You squinted your eyes as you pronounced the word like poison, almost coming out like an insult. “I'm not afraid of you.” With your own response to his defiance, this immediately silenced him, stopping him in his tracks right in front of you, as you stepped closer to him, your presence growing menacing now. You were really upset. “Do you think that when I marry you I will allow you to go on screwing around with them?”

“You met them and they threatened you?” Feyd asked in a low tone, maintaining a calm demeanor, though he wanted to know if any of his concubines had dared to even glance at you during your stay at Giedi Prime. His orbs reflected a sensation that ranged to a murderous, bloodthirsty urge, not at you, but at anyone who was stupid enough to threaten you. “Tell me, did they say anything to you?”

You crooked your head very slightly, looking genuinely offended by his questioning.

“Do you think I would allow any of your concubines —anyone at all— to threaten me and go on with their lives?” You replied instantly, looking him up and holding his gaze, as brave as ever. You seemed to be the only one in the whole universe who dared to answer him and put him in his place. And he was loving it, he felt the desire to be broken by you, to let you destroy all his walls and reach his soul. “They'd already be dead if they did.”

An amused grimace twisted his lips, gaze darkening with pride, desire even, approving of your words, feeling suddenly small under the vastness of your aura, dark and menacing now.

“Don't worry about them.” His words sounded humorous this time, just as his fingers laced between yours, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, an attempt to reassure you. “Soon I'll be all yours, sweet girl.”

You frowned your brow slightly, as did your lips, still looking offended. He squinted his eyes, hissing as he realized he had said the wrong thing, yet again.

“I'm not sweet.” Your hand released his, your annoyance rising with the seconds. “I'm not one of your pets you can treat as sweet, Feyd-Rautha.”

He raised his brow, following you with his gaze, puzzled, as you turned around and began to walk back to the palace, turning your back on him and leaving him to talk alone.

“One of my pets?” He questioned, with that amused grimace plastered on his mouth again, as he began to follow your hurried footsteps, his pale face reflected a blend of frustration and irritation. “Do you think I would treat you like one of my pets?”

His voice sounded so husky and frustrated and delicious that you felt like just stopping and jumping on him right there. But your own self-respect and pride were more important, you wanted to believe.

Seeing that you weren't planning to stop, Feyd tried to stop you by grabbing your arm, but his hand remained over your smooth skin, with no major result in trying to calm you down, so he cleared his voice, making the attempt to be as cautious and reassuring with his words.

“I think you must understand that desire and lust is something we all possess, my lady, not just men.”

He was physically relieved when you stopped to be able to look at him, with his hand lingering on your forearm.

But your eyes were still dark with discomfort when they met his once again. “I won't be one of your girls, Feyd-Rautha.”

His lips parted, brow furrowing slightly, his voice kept low. “(Y/N)—”

He stood right there, utterly speechless, with his voice caught in his throat, watching you walk away from him, striding with steps that exuded pure anger up to your rocky palace. His hand dropped from your arm and returned to his side, now far from your warmth and heartbeat.

It took Feyd-Rautha a couple of minutes to pull himself together, sighing heavily, a small smirk curving his lips as he began to walk the path back to the Atreides' palace.

He was absolutely thrilled to discover this side of you that he hadn't previously seen. You were truly frightening and he was loving it.

By the time the moon was bright in the center of the dark sky, shining through the thickness of black, a pair of soft knocks sounded against your chamber door and you didn't have to use any hint of your skills to know who it was.

He looked at you with those now dark blue eyes from across the threshold, arm resting lightly against the grayish stone. He looked strangely troubled, look shadowed.

“Have you always been such a perfect seductress?”Feyd asked you just as you made a questioning gesture with your head. “How many men have you seduced like this?”

You looked him up with doubting eyes, frown slightly furrowed. “What are you talking about—”

He interrupted you in a scratchy voice, fearing somehow, that someone else might hear him, that someone else might witness how desperately vulnerable he was being, for you.

“You've broken me. All I can think about is you.”

Feyd took one step forward and you one step back, so you two moved as if you were in a kind of dance until he eventually entered your chambers, pulling the door shut behind him.

“I can't handle not touching you. It's a rule I'm on the brink of breaking for you.” He whispered and your breath caught in your throat, exhaling air in a stuttering gasp. “And I should— I'm expected to be a gentleman. I'm supposed to behave myself, keep my composure. But you… you are driving me crazy, woman, you play with my head, you've bewitched me.”

You could really see that he was trying to explain himself for you, attempting to articulate everything that was going through his head and you knew that it was very unusual for him to speak out loud about his feelings. And now, you were the one who couldn't say anything at all.

It was true, the most important rule your mother had emphasized to you was that you were not to get involved sexually, or in any way with your betrothed, until the very day of the actual wedding, as that particular night was meant to be consumed.

“Y—you shouldn't be here, my lord.” You managed to utter out after a few hesitant stutters, feeling your back brush against the wall and having him in front of you, trapping you against his body. He seemed to be struggling against his body, against his desire and instinct, hesitant hands twitching at his sides, nearly reaching out instinctively for your body.

“You were so bold back there talking back to me, what happened now? Aw, what happened, pretty?” He asked in a more teasing tone of voice, holding your gaze. “We could put that mouth of yours to good use then, hm?”

“My lord—”

“Call me by name.” He demanded, he begged you, whispering.

“Feyd...” You named him so obediently that it made him smile darkly to himself. “Someone might listen.”

“Are you afraid that someone will find out that two people who are getting married desired each other?” Feyd asked, half-closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose, as if trying to compose himself, trying to convince himself more than you. “There is nothing wrong for a husband to crave for his wife, right?”

You gulped, and his eyes instantly landed on your throat, watching as bone and muscle moved beneath the flesh, his tongue twitched, aching with all his will to be able to just lick the skin of your neck.

“I guess not.” Your voice trembled even when you were trying extra hard to sound confident and certain. “But we are not yet husband and wife.”

“Soon...” Feyd muttered, almost as if he was making a promise, uttering a vow.

His eyes closed as he finally rested his forehead against yours and suddenly, you were breathing from the same air. His trembling breath was warm against your lips and his scent was everything you could have ever craved... and it felt so familiar that your soul seemed to shudder, like something you had smelled all your life, something that had haunted you even in dreams, forever present but yet always so far distant.

“Can I touch you?” Feyd breathed out against your mouth after a few moments.

You didn't answer him verbally, instead you slowly took his hands between yours, fingers placing them in parallel against his, allowing you to feel every inch of the imprint drawn on his fingertips as you dragged yours across his palm, both feeling the size difference.

Then, you rested his big, calloused hands on your waist, allowing him to touch and hold you as much as he wanted and to permit him to do so, a single sight on your eyes was all it took.

He hissed as his hands molded the curve of your waist and instantly afterward drew you into his body, pulling you fully against the wall behind you. Your back arched instinctively and you gasped too, so softly, your chest pressed against his with the motion.

“Touch me.” Feyd-Rautha pleaded, he had never pleaded so... desperately for anything ever in his life.

That was your allowance for your hands reaching for his body, out of control, one making a slow path up through his strong arms while the other rested against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palm, beating echoing your own. Your fingertips gently patted his muscles, recognizing his skin and his body. You got the abrupt urge to claim it as yours. To claim him.

You felt yourself blushing at all the overly imaginative and lustful images of him invading your head.

His nose brushed against yours, nuzzling it affectionately, still without opening his eyes, as if he were in some kind of dream from which he didn't want to wake up. His fingers caressed your belly, tracing a slow caress across your entire abdomen upward, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you against him.

His touch triggered an immediate reaction across your flesh, skin shivering under his fingers.

Feyd whispered your name like a prayer, like a thirsty man, crawling and screaming for water.

“I'm trying to be good...”

“Don't be.” You whispered back, almost begging, looking up at him, gaze meeting his once he opened his eyes. “Please, Feyd—”

Then finally his lips landed on yours, initiating a kiss that you both craved so much, maybe he more than you for the way he brought you close to him, almost possessively, like a mad man, almost as if he was imprinting his mark on you, marking you for whoever had the courage to look at you.

He let himself sink in the way your lips fit against yours, in the warmth your body offered him, in the all too familiar sensation he could sense in every single fiber of his core from the kiss, your kiss.

Feyd-Rautha felt like a roaring beast just unleashed, ruthless and insatiable, just like when he walked into the arena, eager to kill, rooting against his opponents —and now he was rooting for you, to be near you, to intertwine his soul with yours, to claim you as his own.

And claiming you he was, his scent covered you all over now, making you feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, throbbing crotch, blood seething like an infernal flare. Anyone who came near you would not only smell you, but him too, on every inch of your body. His hands roamed just under your breasts, rubbing across your ribcage and sliding down your back, fingers just barely grazing your ass, pressing you tightly against him in desperation, grasping and squeezing as much of your tender flesh as they could.

Your own palms roamed up his chest, caressing his broad shoulders, all the way up to his neck, tugging him closer to you in desperate motions, impossibly close.

When your bodies begged for oxygen, you broke the passionate kiss, leaving you both breathless. He kissed you once more, allowing you to breathe just for a few seconds before all you breathed was him. He wanted to become your oxygen, something indispensable to you, something you needed to live with, a necessity.

“You're the only one.” Feyd-Rautha mumbled out as his hot and soft lips trailed down a wet path all the way to your neck, tracing the line of your jaw with sloppy kisses, each time his lips pulled back from your skin a wet noise echoed and filled the room, making you gasp.

You could feel the way his lips were modulating each word against your skin, as if using a language so intimate and so tight that it took your breath away. A language known and used just between the two of you.

With desirous eyes he looked at the dark crimson mark he'd left on your throat before raising them across your flushed face, his hands cradling your jaw, thumbs caressing your skin tenderly.

“When my uncle gave me the announcement that I was to marry you, I kicked them all out.” He continued to explain, pecking your lips a couple of times before kissing each cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, every single feature of your entire face, with the utmost care and adoration.

No one had ever looked at you the way he was looking at you right now.

Feyd rasped out a small chuckle, breath warm tickling against your nose. “And by kicking them out I mean I killed them.”

His comment didn't surprise you at all, in fact, it didn't even provoke a reaction in you. During the week you had been in his company, you had already gotten used to Feyd-Rautha's -almost cruel- honesty and sassy remarks, you were just starting to get used to his very eccentric and unique attitude. Because the na-Baron's personality was something that was most captivating to you, he was so different yet so similar to you.

“Of course.” You replied, trying to hold back that dark grin on your lips, an action that caused him to kiss you once more, his attention was on your mouth the whole time as you spoke to him in that tone of voice. “I would expect nothing less from the Feyd-Rautha and for my future husband.”

Again he rested his forehead against yours and you were the one who kissed his lips this time. It had become a reassuring habit in a span of less than five minutes for both of you.

“I can't do anything to you until we get married, my uncle would find out otherwise. I have —we have— to behave, my love.”

He seemed to read your mind this time, or maybe it was the way you were looking at him, biting your lower lip gently, eyes darkened with desire, silently begging him to just take you right there against the wall when he called like that.

Perhaps Feyd-Rautha was a hopeless romantic just like you or he simply desired you in ways that went beyond mere sex or plain lust.

“Are you afraid of him?” You softly asked him, your fingers stroking the back of his neck, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Your fingertips followed the trail of one of his veins marked on his neck, making him gasp lightly.

“Have you seen him?” Feyd responded with another question, a curved little smile on his lips, his tone of voice directed pure sarcasm. “I don't think I'm in such a position as to challenge the Baron.”

You nodded your head, fingers stroking his cheekbones now, tapping the moles that spread across his face affectionately. “He's terrifying.”

Your heart seemed to melt as you watched him close his eyes and lean against your hand, kissing the palm in action.

“Mhm...” Feyd hummed, watching you attentively, as if he was memorizing every inch of your face. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of amusement.

“Were you seriously jealous of my darlings?”

Your heart seemed to drop to your stomach and burn with your guts as you heard the nickname fall from his mouth.

“Call them that again and I'll cut your throat.” You murmured against his lips, kissing them slowly before pulling away from his body, looking up at him with dark, yet playful eyes, your hand roaming across his chest until it fell to your side as you stepped away. Then you made your way towards your bed with a very slow pace, under the attentive gaze of his azure eyes following every movement of your hips.

His heart —apparently non-existent until then— was pounding like crazy inside his chest as his lips parted, for once again you had left him speechless.

That was living proof that you were simply made for him. And he for you.

And maybe that just meant you were each other's weakness, people would say so.

But he felt just invincible in your presence, as if your company made him behold the whole universe, gave him the power of the all galaxy at hand, making him feel like the only man in existence. Your man.

Feyd-Rautha had never felt so desperate to make you his wife and finally call you his.

[stardust-swan]

What Type of Charisma are You Manifesting? ✨

Left to right: 1, 2, 3

Pile 1

You're manifesting vibrant charisma. You are radiating magnetism that draws people in - the type that makes you best friends with everyone in the room even if you only met them five minutes ago. The type that everyone has a little crush on. The type that can make a small gathering feel like a lively extravaganza. You are full of cheer and high-spirited, brimming with fun and excitement.

You're experimenting with your identity, which makes you come across as raw and authentic. You have a lot of power but you have not yet learned how to wield it. You are confident and ambitious, and people sense your potential. Some people might find it intimidating, but others are drawn in by your exuberance and honesty. You are full of passion and energy and are going places quickly, which other people sense as a vibe of spontaneity and excitement. You live for fun, and if things are no longer fun, you don't want to play anymore.

Imagery I associate with your kind of charisma:

Scent: Citrus - sweet, bright, and bold, but it doesn't linger.

Flower: Sunflower or a zinnia.

Animal: Toucan

Artist: Matisse, full of high contrasts and vibrant colours.

Colour: Clear, bright colours, like turquoise, dandelion yellow, Kelly green, sky blue, and tomato red.

Archetype: The Cheerleader or Prom Queen, who rather than being the stereotypical mean girl, is actually very friendly and genuinely beloved by all - the type who is invited to every party and who makes sure to chat with the new kid in the class to make them feel less alone.

Pile 2

You are manifesting regal charisma. This type of charisma exudes poise, confidence, and elegance. People feel like they're hanging out with royalty around you, even if you're wearing jeans and a t-shirt and cracking jokes. But no matter how casual and relaxed you are, you radiate dignity and grace. People are drawn in by your competence, talent, and skill - you're someone that commands respect, a natural leader like a Queen at her throne. Your peers respect you, and people younger than you look up to you.

Sometimes you come across as more reserved than you are. You're afraid of overwhelming people, so you hold yourself back a little. But people can still sense the fire underneath - the big goals, the worldliness, the growth coming full circle. This makes you come across as confident, wise, and a bit mysterious. You have a wicked sense of humour, which softens a demeanour some may otherwise find cold.

Imagery I associate with your kind of charisma:

Scent: Rose - fresh, clean, and feminine.

Flower: Carnation or white camellia.

Animal: Swan

Artist: Diego Velázquez - realistic, dramatic, highly detailed, and technically impressive.

Colour: Jewel tones, like emerald green, garnet, aubergine, and royal blue.

Archetype: The High Queen. Dressed majestically, you sit at your throne, inspiring awe in others. You are kind, regal, and benevolent, beloved by all the land. You bless and reward those who respect you generously.

Pile 3

You are manifesting laid-back charisma. You are very grounded, which puts people at ease. You like to help people grow. You won't do the work for someone else, but you'll support and encourage them as much as you can as long as they do their share (your pet peeve is people refusing to do their share of the work or improve themselves). You carry an air of vulnerability (in a good way) and openness, which gives you a soulful quality. People relate to you easily, and feel comfortable sharing things with you. They perceive you as resilient, someone who can not only emphatise with their struggles, but who has overcome their own struggles and gotten stronger because of them. You are someone who is actively seeking growth, unafraid of getting a bit messy to do so. You have a healing effect on people and will help anyone that needs a hand. You are supportive of your local community, whether that's through participating in the neighborhood cleanup or donating to a local food bank.

Imagery I associate with your type of charisma:

Scent: Sandalwood - soft, woody, and rich.

Flower: Hydrangea

Animal: Dove

Artist: Maxfield Parrish - vibrant, gently blended, and whimsical.

Colour: Gentle, warm colours, like copper, rosewood, cream, moss green, charcoal and lavender.

Archetype: The Earth Mother. You are someone who is wise, nourishing, and gently firm. You have a creative soul, and you find beauty in the ordinary. Like an ancient goddess who has come to Earth to bless us with her presence and love.

[holybibly]

Unholy thoughts of the day, my divine bunnies: Dark priest San, fucks you in the confessional. Warnings: hierophilia, sex in church

The majestic, mournful sounds of the antique organ rose to the high Gothic vaults of the church, mingled with soft, silken moans and the barely audible, panting words of haphazardly recited prayers that settled on San's heated, moist, sun-kissed skin, like stained glass chips scattered on the faded velour spilt by the dark maroon sea between the rows of narrow, lacquered pews.

Unlike your airy sighs and whimpers, muffled by the rhythmic beating of San's pulse beneath your lips, Pastor Choi himself could rival the thunderous volume of church chants and the cacophonous sounds of bells echoing through the hallowed, frescoed walls of the church.

San didn't seem to have any remorse at all, as he fucked you deeply and sensually in the dark, wooden, cramped confessional while Pastor Jeong's angelic voice echoed the sacred lines of the Holy Scriptures.

San didn't want to hide how good it made him feel when he pounded his thick cock into the moist, tantalising warmth of your beautiful, tight pussy; on the contrary, he wanted his moans of pleasure to reach heavenly heights. Hell, he wouldn't mind the whole congregation hearing your cunt whip for him every time the massive girth of his dick slides between your lusciously open labia, which generously coating his velvety hot length with your sweet goo as the edges of your tiny hole stretch to accommodate him.

"Did I ask you to stop, divine? I want to hear all your sins, angel." San purrs sultrily in your ear. The hot ghost of his command sends shivers of excitement down your spine. His fingers dig roughly into your juicy, plush thigh flesh as he pushes you harder against the confessional's roughened wood back wall. "C'mon, tell me everything. Repent, divine one, and I will grant you salvation."

Spurred on by the passionate kisses of San's bitten, devilishly curved lips, which tasted of the sweet, sinful bitterness of wine and vintage white tea that had bloomed like a translucent ghostly flower at the bottom of a small porcelain cup, you tighten your grip on his broad, muscular shoulders and whimper softly.

"Forgive me, Holy Father, for I have been a sinner..." You begin, rolling your eyes in pleasure and sobbing softly as San's swollen, dripping with pre-cum cockhead kisses your cervix. "My thoughts weren't pure..." Your words are accompanied by the wet, squelching sound of skin slapping against skin. His heavy, tight balls slap against the soft skin of your thick buttocks with each of his powerful, deep thrusts.

The pink mother of pearl of your rosary beads slips from your sweaty palms and falls to the floor and splinters into hundreds of pieces as San's thick cock continues to slide insistently between the trembling walls of your tight cunt.

"Is that all, my angel? I think there's more." San's voice is nothing more than a solid darkness wrapped in velvet. "You know good girls shouldn't lie."

"I... I... I have done some bad things." You blurt out immediately, as if San will be disappointed in you and stop fucking you if you don't act like his good girl.

"Like what, angel? Fucked a priest in church? Seduced an older man just so you could ride your slutty little cunt on his cock until it was completely filled with hot, thick cum? Tell me, are these all bad things, Divine? Didn't you enjoy it all?" You'd never really thought about it, but hearing San say it out loud made you feel incredibly ashamed, but you still didn't do anything to stop it; instead, you arched your hips invitingly towards him, trying to get even deeper on his cock.

You wanted him so deep inside you that you could see his amazingly thick cock bulging against your belly.

"Yes, Father, I have done all these things... And I love it so much... I want more..." You practically squealed as you felt the head of his cock hit your sweet spot. The sudden jolt of pleasure almost made you faint.

"You're such a bad girl, Angel." San lustfully whispers into your neck. "But, you know, that's just the way I like it." You can't see his dirty grin, but you can feel it on your skin. "We'll come back to your sins later; we may even have to ask Yunho to help you atone for them, but that will be later; for now I want you to milk my cock dry. We need to make sure your cunt is full and warm from all my cum, divine".

You whine and nod your head stupidly in response to his words. Yes, yes, you want to atone for your sins under the gentle guidance of Father Jeong Yunho and, of course, San, but right now he is absolutely right: you have to milk his cock dry. You can't let him down.

You were so close to orgasm, the hot, tight knot of lust in your lower abdomen tightening with each thrust of Pastor Choi's juicy, thick thighs.

The velvety, thick length of his dick rubs insistently against the quivering walls of your cunt, causing more and more of your mucus to spill out of your hole, hinting at an impending stormy orgasm, and San cunningly presses the rough pads of his fingers against your sensitive, swollen clit as he begins to rub your sensitive bottom sharply and aggressively, pushing you faster to the edge of pleasure. Your toes are squeezed in your shoes by his actions, and your thighs begin to tremble weakly.

"S-san, I'm so... so close. Please, Holy Father..." You gasp.

Your orgasm rushes through you like a tsunami, coating your thighs and the velvet floor beneath your feet with copious amounts of goo. You cum so hard it's almost embarrassing, your goo spurting out of your hole like a fountain, completely soaking San's clothes and running down the inside of your thighs.

Your cunt clenches tighter around San's massive length, milking him until his cock begins to soften inside you. Hot cum floods the narrow channel of your pussy, painting your fluttering walls with viscous milky fluid.

What could be more righteous? What could be more holy? Than something so breathtaking and heavenly. You're almost on cloud nine as your belly continues to swell from the sperm pumping into you.

You whimper softly, the remnants of your orgasm tingling your skin like little bolts of electricity.

"You're such a good girl, Divine." San coos sweetly, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. "Keep me inside, baby. Keep me inside. Yes, like that. My good girl, my sweet angel."

"Yes, Holy Father." That's all you can manage, burying your face deeper in San's neck, feeling his massive jewelled cross digging between your tits. "Whatever you say."

[reasonsforhope]

In an inspiring return 200 years in the making, the last truly wild horse species has been reintroduced onto the open steppes of Kazakhstan.

The Guardian reports that four mares from a breeding program in Berlin and a stallion and two other mares from Prague, were flown to the Central Asian country to mark the second successful reintroduction of Przewalski’s horse to the lands that above all others are associated with this beloved animal.

At an unspecified place on the Eurasian Steppe around 6,000 years ago, of which Kazakhstan is a major component, human beings domesticated the horse. It changed history forever...

In 2011, Prague Zoo was also involved in a reintroduction of Przewalski’s horses to Mongolia which continued for 8 years until the population stabilized. There are now 1,500 such horses in the country.

The Kazakhstan reintroduction comes on the back of several environmental success stories driven by a passionate environmental movement in the country. This has included the reintroduction of Bukhara deer around the shores of Lake Balkhash, and the continued legislative and conservation efforts to restore the majestic saiga antelope, which have resulted in a growth of the population to 1.9 million.

-via Good News Network, June 12, 2024