#please pray for messiah

[tothecrucifieddeer]

I came to crave your strong hand, delicate in its nature and in where it applied the pressure. Y'isreal, I couldn't remove myself from the blood or the bruises--I loved your white hands and pink knuckles. I loved you in your rage.

I would've loved you if you stayed. If the baby lived. If I was forgiven. Even as I love you because those things didn't happen. The night sky is an inky black. I think it is you watching still, the silver stars bits of wisdom trapped in your eyes.

There is nothing to give you but my scared body and ugliness. I am not profound. Just a beggar. A hated pet. Your hatred just fell a little closer to love. Come home and I'll do it all over. I love you. I promise. From the moment you took the pills out of my hand and told me to live.

That's it. That's all.

[tothecrucifieddeer]

And so you were gentle--in your own way--in your own time. And the hands you raised against me, they were, in their own way a type of gentleness--if an angel can be gentle, then gentle you were. A gun down my throat, this was an angel's way too. I had to be unmade and redone in the likeness of demon and God. Wings like blood, like rust, wings with wicked feathers and your hands like talons around my legs. But in it's own way a type of gentleness. I was no longer alone. In my violence I was matched, blow by blow, love like hatred--found it's own in time. My sweet boy, black eyes, sour tongue, attitude like the blazing sun. Devour me in the desert--to consume me is the greatest gentleness of all--every terrible thing desires to be destroyed in a quiet worshipping way.

(detail from the San Barnaba Altarpiece (c. 1488) by Sandro Botticelli)

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Oh the "Midori is an FeMC fan so now let's just drag FeMC fans" stuff is rolling in GOD LET ME REST PLEASE TT0TT WE DON'T DESERVE THIS!

[msguidedangelann]

1 John 5:20 KJV Hallelujah and Amen-Amein!!

( I John 5:20 KJV ) “And we know that the SON of GOD is Come, and hath Given us an Understanding, that we may know HIM that is TRUE, and we are in HIM that is TRUE, even in HIS SON JESUS CHRIST. This is the TRUE GOD, and Eternal Life.” Sing Glory Glory Hallelujah Amen-Amein!! ( Hebrews 4:12 KJV ) “For the WORD of GOD is quick, and Powerful, and Sharper than any Twoedged Sword, Piercing even to…

[cassie48]

Ｄｏｎ’ｔ ｙｏｕ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ?

(Dark!Paul Atreides x Sayyadina! Reader)

𝘈|𝘕; 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭 𝘈𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 also 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰….

!Keep in mind all dialogue is in the native Fremen language. Also for this Jessica isn’t the reverend mother!

SMUT SMUT AND SMUT

———————————————————————-

You sat in the prayer room, whisperers escaping your mouth. Before, you prayed to the Shai-Hulud, but now? Now you pray for your messiah, who goes by the name of Paul Atreides.

As you knelt on the hard stone flour, you held your hands together. You were all alone in the room, the others had left for the night, but not you. You felt at peace here.

You were so devoted to your job, always seen praying or worshipping your new mahdi. You had created a strong bond with Lady Jessica. She had took you under her wing, appreciating your kindness and how you believed in Paul.

As you prayed you paused, hearing a noise near the entrance behind you, putting your hands down by your side, you turned, and saw no other than Paul Atreides watching you.

“Hello” he said smirking down at you.

“Lisan al-Gaib, forgive me I did not hear you” yous said scrambling to your feet and bowing slightly in fear and astonishment.

“No need to forgive me, I interrupted your prayer” he said walking closer to you.

You gulped, you had never had a one on one conversation with your messiah before and you didn’t really know what to say.

Paul noticed your nerves and spoke again “I came here to seek guidance” He said continuing to walk towards you.

“Oh, well the reverend mother would be best suited for that job Usul” You said trying your best to contain your anxiety.

“Oh god no, I couldn’t talk to her about this” He said smiling down at your small face.

“Oh” you said unsure what else you could say.

“May I confide in you instead?” He asked trying his best not to smirk.

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea, the elders wouldn’t be happy I’m just a sayyadina. You’d be best to speak with someone higher up” you said, surprised you managed to get the words out.

“I don’t care what the elders think” he snarled

Your eyes widened, not used to hearing someone disrespect the elders of your sietch. You swallowed, not knowing what to say.

“Forgive me, that came out the wrong way. I simply mean, the elders pray for me yes?” He said, knowing your answer.

“I- of course Usul” you said nervously.

“Then whatever I choose to do, they will stand by me. I know the way, you must understand that?” He said, now very close to you.

You felt like crying, how could you be so stupid, you had disrespected your Messiah. “I’m sorry” you whispered.

Paul took your right cheek in his hand, cupping it. “No apology is necessary, now may I speak with you” he said, dropping his hand.

Your cheeks grew red at his touch “of course, you can confide in me, I will try my best to help” you swallowed.

Paul took your hand, and led you to the centre of the room, and motioning you to sit down in the centre of the circle. You stopped, knowing you weren’t supposed to.

“I can’t sit here usul, it’s reserved only for the Reverend mother” you said, fear evident in your rushed words.

Your reverend mother had taken on the role about five years ago, when the previous one had passed away. She wasn’t pleasant whatsoever, and had a grudge against you that you never understood. Even though she was the reverend mother, she did not show much appreciation or belief for your Mahdi.

“Oh please, I don’t see her here, what’s the worst that could happen?” He said laughing lightly.

“No, really I’m not trying to disrespect you usul but I can’t” you said making it obvious you feared the thought of even doing it.

“Why are you so afraid?” He asked, his tone now sounding angry.

You bowed your head down, not wanting to say why, knowing that would be seen as disrespectful to the Reverend Mother.

“Tell me” he ordered.

“I- she’d punish me if she found out” you said, your words coming out so fast he barely heard them, but he did.

“Punish you?” He questioned, to which you nodded.

“How?” He barked.

“She, she hits me sometimes, when she says I’ve been disappointing” you say, holding back tears thinking of all the times she’s slapped or shoved you.

Paul said nothing for a moment, fearing if he did he’d scare you, he had never felt such rage before until now. To think someone had laid a finger on you. You were his, and if someone hurt you, he would hurt them back.

“How many times had this happened” he said his voice cold and demanding.

“I don’t really know, at least once or twice a month. She says I’m weak, and that I’ll never be good enough to be a sayyadina. That I should just give up” You said, tears now falling down your cheeks, silently.

Your head was still facing the floor, embarrassed to even look at Paul, in your state. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the touch of his hand. He wiped your tears. His hand was soft. How odd, a man that had killed thousands, and his hand felt soft. He slowly led you to sit down where you had been so scared to before.

“No need to cry, that won’t be happening anymore” he said making you lift your head in confusion.

“What, I don’t understand” you said, your eyebrows raised in confusion at his words.

“Do you know why I came here to confide in you” he asks, his hand still resting on your cheeks.

You nod your head no, he had never explained to you why he had sought you out in the first place.

“I did because, I had a vision” he began

Your eyes lit up in excitement and your heart raced. To think your Mahdi would tell you his vision firsthand made you feel special, something your rarely felt while being a Sayyadina.

“I had a vision of you, you were sitting in the sand, the sun on your skin.” He said, looking into the distance as he recollected the images of you in his head.

“M-Me?” You stuttered, completely taken aback

“Yes, you. You were by my side, my truthsayer, the empires truthsayer” He revealed, now looking down at your expression.

“Mahdi I- this cannot be true!” You said, your mouth wide open.

“You think me a fool? You think my visions are just hallucinations?” He questioned you.

“No! No! I believe you! You are Lisan Al-Gaib, I trust you. All I meant is, I don’t think I’m that important, I’m no where near as clever as some of the other sayyadina that are amongst us here” you said.

“You must believe in yourself” He said, feeling annoyed that you were so self-doubtful.

“It is hard when everyone around you tells you that you’re nothing” you said, offering him a sad smile.

“You are not nothing! You are everything” He said locking eyes with you

You filled, your cheeks reddening from his compliment

“You wanna know what else I saw in my vision?” He suddenly asked.

You nodded quickly, eager to know what else your messiah saw in your future.

“You stood with me, not just as my truthsayer, but as my wife” He said watching to see your reaction.

Your eyes widened further, if it were even possible, and your mouth moved to say something but nothing came out.

“You trust me right?” He asked scooting closer to where you were sitting.

You nodded, still not able to speak from the shock she was experiencing.

“So trust my visions” He said as he leant down even further his lips almost touching yours as he spoke once more

“Have you ever been kissed?” He questioned eager to hear your answer.

“No” you whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Good girl” Is all he said as he leant in closing the very small gab between you two. He kissed you full force, passion lingering between you and him. He took his hand and placed it around the side of your head, trying to get as close to you as possible.

You finally began to kiss him back, once you had built up the courage, the whole experience was completely new to you. Most Sayyadina wait until they are “of age” to have any sort of relations with another Fremen.

You pulled away as fear entered you once more “usul I shouldn’t be doing this, I will be in trouble” you said your eyes glued to his feeling as though you had no control over how you were reacting.

“If anyone ever tells you what to do again I will kill them” is all he said as he kissed you again, this time more rough than the last.

He placed his hands around your side, pulling your body over to his, now plush against you.

You moaned, unknown sensations entering your body that felt extremely good. You felt him slightly push his knee into the gap of your legs and you found yourself moving your hips to meet it too.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth and you let him, his dominant personality showing.

The nice sensation you were felling grew when he pushed his knee further into your aching heat, now you felt it fully.

You moaned again, this time a lot louder than the last, again your body acted before you even thought of your actions. You rolled your hips against his knee and gasped when you felt utter satisfaction.

You broke away “what, what is this?” You asked as you moved your hips against his leg once again, not really knowing what you were doing, just knowing that you felt really good. You had never really been educated on sex, you knew it was something a couple did to conceive, but you didn’t know how it worked, or felt.

“It feels good, right” he asked you

You nodded after a moment, looking down between your legs where you saw his knee rubbed up against your core, that was covered by only the fabric your cloak, which was almost see through from the wetness that was leaving you.

“Then keep going, I wanna make you feel good” he said.

You said nothing else as he pushed his knee against you and you completely widened your legs again and your dripping heat now sitting on his leg as you grinded down, putting your head against his shoulder, as he held you.

“It feels s-so good usul” you whimpered as he held you tightly.

“Your doing so well, keep going” he said watching as you brought pleasure to yourself.

You now moved, almost entirely on his lap, and grinded down, moaning when he’d move his leg up slightly to help you out. He leaned down and locked lips with you again.

As you kissed him his hand moved down to where you eagerly wanted to feel nice, he first drew his fingers against your inside thigh, teasing you.

After he noticed it was working and you moved more desperately against him, he slowly brought his hand lower, to your core.

He moved his finger against your clit, smirking slightly as your eyes widened and your groans grew louder. Wanting to please you even further, he moved to place a finger inside you.

You tender up, the new feeling making you slightly embarrassed “usul?” She asked

“I need to prepare you before I make love to you” is all he said. You nodded fully trusting him.

You gripped into his shoulders tighter, muffling your moans, and he moved his finger in and out of your aching pussy.

He placed another finger inside when he noticed you were getting closer to your peak. You moved your hips down, meeting him halfway, as you muffled your moans once more, the pressure building upon in your lower tummy.

“Let all your sounds out. I want to hear. I want them to hear.” He said growing more possessive.

You cried out as you came undone, your juices going all over his fingers, he held you up with his free arm, letting you hold him as you came down fork your high.

He lifted his two fingers up and licked your juices off them, before laying you down and kissing you again, his tongue invading your mouth once more. Once he had you underneath him, he pulled off your long fabric down, that all Sayyadina must wear.

He smiled down at your naked body, you felt uncomfortable and insecure, no one had ever seen you naked before, you tried your best to cover yourself.

“Don’t hide yourself from me malak” he said making you blush. (Angel)

“I intend to know every part of you” he added and finally you removed your hands revealing your small but perky breasts.

Paul smirked down at the sight, you really did look beautiful. Laying down underneath him, ready to be claimed.

He slowly began to suck on your breasts, at first you found it odd, but then it started to feel nice, and you began sticking your chest up, wanting him to keep going.

He pulled away, making you slightly pout “don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make you feel good soon” he promised.

He slowly began to move down your body, leaving kisses all over it as he did, and you smiled in satisfaction and love.

One he reached your pussy again, he guided your thighs away from each other and you swallowed, excited to fell nice again, but wondering what he was going to do to you.

He kissed the crease on the very inside of your leg, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, your legs moving impatiently.

He moved his head down even closer to your core, making your brows crease in confusion, wondering what he was about to do, but your eyes quickly widened, and your back arched when he placed his mouth onto your pussy.

He slowly licked it, collecting any of the remaining juices from your previous orgasm, before beginning to eat you eat, grabbing your thighs to keep you in place.

You yelled out, fidgeting as he nudged his nose against your bud. Your hands found his dark curls, and you tangled them within them.

You rolled your hips onto his face, that familiar pressure building up yet again “keep going please” you said smiling but it quickly dropped when he pulled away.

You were about to question him when he began to remove his own clothes and you sat waiting to see what he was going to do. Everything he had already done to you felt amazing and even seeing him without his clothes made you tingle inside once more.

He leaned over you, kissing your neck once more. You felt his hot breath on your skin. You wanted to fell even more of him.

“I’m gonna make you feel good ok? It might feel odd at first, but then it will feel amazing” he said cupping your cheek. You nodded, saying nothing else.

He slowly entered you, and you grasped onto him and you froze. This was not what you thought happened during sex.

“Usul?” You whimpered.

“Shh, your ok. Relax, it will feel nicer if you do” He told you, kissing your cheek gently.

You listen you his words and try to relax your body to the best ability you can. After a moment, he began to thrust in and out you.

Your mouth widened, you realised he was right. It did feel good, very good.

After a minute you began to move your hips with his, matching his rhythm. “Oh Usul” you cried holding onto him for dear life.

“I’ve got you baby” He said as he groaned as well, kissing down on your neck. He matched your noises and you two moved together at a perfect speed.

“You were made for me, all mine” he groaned as he hit your g spot, making you cry out.

“I’m yours” you whimpered

You continued to make loved for a few more moments, and you locked eyes with him, his bright now blue eyes, looked directly into yours.

You both began you became rougher, almost sat your peaks, you began to cry out “usul, I’m gonna-

You were cut off, a voice of a women you had heard all too many times. The voice of a women that had hurt you, physically and mentally.

“What is going on?!” The reverend mother yelled, fury written all over her features.

Paul ignored her for a moment, both of you reaching your peaks, and he spilled himself deep inside you, and waited a moment before pulling out, making sure none of his seed went to waist. He pulled his bottoms back up and kissed you lustfully, before placing your dress on top of your naked body, as you tried to stay conscious.

“I’ll just be a moment, my love” he said

He turned and the smile he had offered you, turned to a furious and hateful glare, seeing the woman who had hurt you multiple times enter the room.

Thankfully, she had entered the room when the two of you had finished, but she knew exactly what was going on due to the loud noises both of you had been letting out.

“What exactly do you think your doing!” The elder woman yelled out.

Paul’s angry expression grew “I’m claiming my wife to be” he said watching as her face grew more shocked and angry.

“She is not marrying you!” The woman yelled once more.

“She carries my child, I will be marrying her” Paul said proudly.

“You can’t know that yet!” She yelled annoyed.

“Yes I can, I’ve seen it. I’ve seen my beautiful wife sitting where you sit now, a child growing inside of her” Paul said, knowing he was annoying the woman further.

“I won’t allow it! I am the reverend mother” She said with a smirk.

“Not anymore” Paul said matching her smirk as he watched as her face dropped.

Paul grabbed a nearby Crysknife and slit the woman’s throat, watching emotionlessly as she bled out on the floor, and died.

A nearby Fremen guard eventually came to the scene “mahdi! What has happened to our Reverend mother?” He asked with shock and worry.

“She tried to kill me, I wish I didn’t have to do that, but she was going to stab me” Paul said, his acting extremely good and believable.

“Thank God you are ok! I will alert Stilgar of this incident” The man said running away.

Paul took one last look at the woman, before smiling and walking away. He knew his plan would work. People knew she never liked him, and so it would be believable that she had tried to kill him.

Once he returned to you, he knelt down, pulling your head into his lap, playing with your hair gently.

“What has happened Usul? Who’s blood is that?” You said with fear.

“You need not worry. Our Reverend mother has had an accident, but I have a replacement” Paul said stroking your face lovingly.

“Really, who?”you asked, shock all over your face.

“You” Is all he said, as he picked you up in his arms.

A|N; I’m a quite proud of this!

I hope you all enjoyed it :)

[little-diable]

Hail Mary – Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

Well well well, we're back with the fucked up priest. He's just my fave to write, I ain't sorry. Don't like it, don't read it–remember that, please. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader had been sent to a monastery because her parents no longer endured having her around. But perhaps Priest Riddle will know how to handle her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, mutual masturbation, oral (m), orgasm denial, fucked up Priest Riddle, forced prayer, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (1.4k words)

picture from Pinterest, credit to original owner

“Would you call this spotless?” He towered over her, piercing eyes set on her tired, angry features. She didn’t reply, kept staring at the tall priest, who those she was surrounded by feared. The white collar around his neck seemed to grow tighter with every breath he took, impatiently waiting for the young woman to reply. 

“Speak!” His angry voice buzzed through her, leaving her trembling as she balled her hands into fists. She had been forced to join the monastery a month ago, as a young woman in her early twenties who seemed to lose her grip on reality. Doctors and priests had called her insane, guided by the devil–accusations that had forced her parents to send her to this godless place. 

“It’s clean, I scrubbed every inch.” Angry tears began to well up in her eyes. A humourless laugh left the man at her words, and with his lips pulled into a thin line, he pulled her off the ground. She fought against his grasp and tried to rip herself free, but the man didn’t react, he kept pulling her down the hallway.  

“Sister Jane told me you are a stubborn one. It’s time you finally learn to respect others.” She was tossed to the ground in the empty church, forcing a cry out of her as the cold nibbled on her limbs. (Y/n) was torn between anger, frustration, and fear, a deadly mixture she was about to fall victim to. 

“Pray for forgiveness, you will only stop once I’m satisfied. Start with your Hail Mary.” Her teeth drew blood as she sank them into her lower lip. She was determined, set on not giving in, no matter the pain that was undoubtedly awaiting her. The two kept holding eye contact for a few more seconds before an almost disappointed sigh left the man. 

“Remember that this is your own fault, (y/n).” Confusion tugged at her features as he came closer to her once again. She allowed herself to study him; he was undoubtedly handsome; she had tried to catch his attention for the past few days; and perhaps a small part of her had hoped that her protests and disrespectful behaviour would push her closer to him. 

“Show me your tongue.” (Y/n) blindly followed his command. Her uneasy eyes kept staring up at him as if he were the Messiah himself, a ruthless man she had mistaken for her saviour. Without another warning, the priest spat on her tongue, forcing her to swallow his saliva. “Sit down on the altar.”

He let go of her, forcing (y/n) to momentarily lose her balance before moving towards the altar carved from stone. Her body was trembling, shaking as if an earthquake kept buzzing through her. This was wrong; she knew that whatever was about to happen would be enough to call the cops on this place, but yet (y/n) didn’t care about any right or wrong; she wanted to be touched by him and would do whatever it takes to make it happen. 

“Part your legs.” She watched him sink down on the wooden bench placed in the first row, with his hands interlaced in his lap and the big cross dangling from his neck. Slowly, she parted her legs for him, knowing that her skirt was short enough to expose her already damp panties to his piercing eyes. 

“Touch yourself, (y/n).” It took her a second to set into motion, to let her fingers find their way to her panties. But before she could even begin to touch herself, the priest spoke up again. “We’ll try again with the Hail Mary. It’s best if you already start praying for forgiveness.” 

Her heart was in her throat, pounding as if she had been running for hours, chased by the darkness the tall man emanated. (Y/n) had to clear her throat as her fingers pushed her panties aside to expose her heat to his eyes. And with a trembling voice, she began praying.

“Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” Her fingers circled her pulsing bundle, moving with enough pressure to draw a raspy moan from her that momentarily interrupted her prayer. The priest kept his eyes focused on her, flickering between her features and her cunt, drawing satisfied sounds from him she couldn’t hear. 

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” Her head rolled back, letting go of another moan as her fingers added more speed to their movements. She was too distracted by the intense feeling to notice him shuffling around, freeing his hardening cock. The ringed fingers (y/n) wanted to feel around her throat began to pump his cock, moving just as fast as her fingers. 

“Oh fuck, touch me, please, Father.” It felt as if she was begging for another chance to live, as if she were selling her soul to the Devil himself, about to sign a contract with her blood. The man only let go of a raspy chuckle, luring her further and further to the edge. 

“Why should I grant you this wish, (y/n)? You’ve been nothing but a disrespectful brat.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his, staring at the man with dilated pupils and parted lips. For a second, her fingers stopped moving, trapped by his question, the danger dripping from his words. 

“I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, but I need you, please.” Not once had she begged this much before. Not once in her life had she spoken words that were this desperate. But at that moment she didn’t care, didn’t give in to the embarrassment that would normally flush through her. All she did was get lost in his eyes, the pupils that were filled with a colour so rich that even Eden would pale in comparison. 

“Not tonight, (y/n), not until you prove to me that you’re worthy of my touch.” Her fingers moved once again, driven by the need to give in and chase a blinding high that would rip her from this dimension. She kept staring at the man she wanted to feel closer, watching him pump his cock with fast movements she tried to match. It seemed as if he could tell that she was close, because just before she could tumble over the edge, he called her name, forcing her fingers to stop moving. 

“Come here, (y/n).” A whine left her as she stopped touching herself, fuelled by frustration as she felt her close orgasm letting go of her. With trembling limbs, she moved towards him, not daring to break their eye contact once. “Onto your knees, make me cum with your mouth.”

The words were enough to distract her from her frustration. She took hold of his twitching cock, pushed the tip past her lips, and sucked on the sensitive skin. His taste stuck to her tongue, leaving her moaning while bobbing her head. With every passing moment, she took more of him, choking around him whenever she got too eager. 

Priest Riddle’s ringed hand found her hair to guide her last movements, adding more speed while he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking, forcing his cock down her throat. Tears dripped down from her eyes, salty like the Dead Sea, like the tears Mary cried when her only son was crucified, dreadful moments that were no match to the bond (y/n) and the priest now formed.

With a raspy groan, the man came down her throat, forcing her to swallow every drop. She kept pumping him for a few more seconds before he pulled her off his cock. With his thumb, he wiped her remaining tears away before he redressed and rose to his feet. (Y/n) kept kneeling before him, waiting for him to push her through her own high–nothing but dreams he wouldn’t turn real, not tonight. 

“Kiss my shoe, thank me for this, and perhaps next week I’ll be more gracious and let you cum.”

[ginnysgraffiti]

Paul Atreides x reader? Where the reader does not believe in the prophecy of the Lisan-al-Gaib or in any god or Messiah that they say will come, to which Paul is interested in her but also feels anger because the reader does not show fear or submission, and when inquiring about why she has no faith in anything she reads or gods is because she went through many horrible things and when she prayed for it to be a nightmare but it never happened, and that's why she believes in nothing but herself.

thanks for the request! sorry if i hadn't answered before :(

PAUL ATREIDES x yn.

your people lived on arrakis under one name: the fremen. people who have inhabited arrakis for many millennia, originally arriving after an interplanetary diaspora.

your planet became the center of immense interests of the empire following the discovery of the powerful drug called melange or spice, capable of significantly extending the length of human life and increasing.

you have been trained in guerrilla warfare since childhood, reason why you're considered among the best fighters in the universe, the only ones capable of holding your own against even the emperor's ferocious sardaukar.

people can comfortably call you interstellar nomads who follow a particular philosophy, people who live together in desert tents and who are more like a big big family or army.

therefore, you don't hide the fact that you get along very well, despite the fact that fremen have challenging, ambitious characters, and you often want to prove our superiority by fighting or calling sandworms.

if someone has already heard the famous prophecy "blessed be the creator and his water" well, that's you, these are the fremen. that's your prophecy or the thing people think you believe in. or at least, your people believe in.

you worship shai-hulud, the sand worm, a gigantic and dangerous creature that populates the deserts of arrakis and is the source of the spice cycle. your religion, like almost all those of the primitive worlds of the empire, was profoundly influenced by the bene gesserit missionaria protectiva.

if you ask stilgar, he will answer you by saying he believes in the arrival of the messiah, of the lisan al-gaib. so please, don't ask stilgar.

lisan al-gaib, in your fremen language, "the voice from the outside world".

in later use the name messiah specializes to indicate the "anointed one" par excellence, sent as a savior of the fremen, the chosen people, and to turn the desert into the green paradise it used to be. this is how stilgar would happily explain it to others.

bullshit.

the biggest lie you've ever heard.

you have waited ages for the messiah, and the only conclusion you managed to get was that even foreign people made fun of you all by saying they were the famous messiah you had been waiting for. really funny, right...

"the walker of the golden path" they say, just they don't know how much you have suffered or how different you feel about your people's adamant beliefs.

you know paul since a few weeks, and you hated every second of it, and you knew he did too.

at first you avoided him, dodged him or threatened him with your eyes as if he were an harkonnen. or, if you were in a bad mood, you ignored him completely, especially when he entertained stilgar with inappropriate and absolutely not funny jokes but that made the whole for-dinner-tent laugh.

you knew that everyone was at his feet, that they would even lick the sand he walked on.

you often heard your fremen friends talking or chatting about him, and you could have sworn some of them even wondered out loud of it would be to have sex with him.

you had never thought of paul as someone to have sex with, mostly because you hated him on principle.

for the first week you loved showing off your fighting moves when he looked, or throwing barbs at him to shut him up.

you knew that he was intimidated but also angry towards you, that he was curious about your people, and therefore you could show yourself superior anyway. you wanted to crush it like a desert fly and rejoice while it dies under your sole.

then, everything changed.

it was afternoon, and the wind was gently blowing, but not enough to make the sand rise.

he was a little too snuggled up next to you, on the highest dune you could reach from the fremen camp.

at first, you didn't even like the idea of starting a conversation, but paul was the one who talked first.

he told you about his visions first, about his nightmare correlated, about the mental torture he had to kneel upon when he used to live on caladan, because everyone thought he was the kwisatz haderach.

he told you about his training, his father's death and how he felt so alone, abandoned by the little people he loved and betrayed by the ones he barely knew.

something about it woke up a new feeling inside your chest. you felt understood.

and he was not there forcing you to go on your knees and pray the messiah and his rise to power.

he was simply chatting, his eyes almost tearing, playing with some sand in his right hand.

he wanted to understand you, to understand why you were the only one who refused to believe the prophecy and yet the only one who captured your attention.

your mind returned to the morning where a few of your friends wished to have sex with him, but right in that moment, when the sun was melting under the dunes, far away, you could only wonder how plump and soft his lips could become against yours.

that same evening, you got confirmed paul atreides was the best kisser you had ever known.

in your tent, with a slight scent of spice and body

skin and sweat, he held you close as if you were

his only lifeline, as if you were about to become

small microscopic grains of sand, and he would no longer be able to hold the right ones in his hands.

you stood there, under his slim and perfect body, stroking his curls in a slow and sleepy gesture, until he closed his eyes and let his cheek rest against your breasts.

messiah or not, you believe he was the love of your life.

[heartfullofleeches]

Confessions

Yandere/G.N Priest Reader blurb

Tw: religious themes, mentions of masturbation mdni 18+

You're nothing if not a figure for your community. With your faith in the higher powers, you extend their generosity to your fellow man both without and not. Some consider you an angel on your own for your unbound kindness towards those cast aside by the world. Long as you walk the chapels halls, its doors remain open for whoever may enter.

No matter what they may be.

-

Sweeping the dust from your robes, you take your seat in the confessional. It isn't long before the adjacent door is blown open - like a force rocked by a strong breeze. Just as the winds would settle, it closes without a sound. You fold your hands in your lap - awaiting its muted call.

"Priest...."

The voice itself is shrouded in sin. A quaken cry in beckoning for its messiah.

You dip your head in conformation. "I am here. I am surprised one of such nature as yours can enter holy grounds - but I am not one to judge who the Lord always into their home."

"You know of my presence?"

"In a sense. I've felt eyes on me in recent times, and know this is not your first time here. You may mask yourself with a different voice, or face - but I will always know what you are."

The voice shutters.

"Forgive me Priest, for I have sinned."

You smile. "And what sins do you wish to confess to?"

"I believe you know of a few as is. I watch you. Breath you. Worship you. My existence thrives by the desire that brew within alone. Even now, by your voice alone, I find the urge to satisfy my bodily needs."

The figure shifts in their booth, back pressed against its solid would. "Please... before my sins are clensed, allow me to take part in another."

"Do as you please."

They grunt. Metal clinks to the floor as their breathes become unsteady. They slowly rise in volume as a hand grips the window's grates. You hear the wet fall on saliva on skin as the intruder chuckles.

"Priest.. You are as foolish as you are merciful. I could tear down these walls and make you my idol before you could draw a single breath."

"But you won't."

A growl dies within the beast's throat; their heavy exhales reaching the skin of your neck as the shifting between fabric grows louder. Whether man or demon, they're reduced to an animalistic state by those three words. A declaration of the power you held over them, even if you hadn't meant it as such. Your calm will as they pleasure themselves in your presence further dictates where you stand against them and all others you face. A god amongst the weak.

"Priest.. for... give me."

"The lord will never turn their back on a member of their flock."

"I don't.. ngh.. I do not require the forgiveness of your false idol. Only yours."

Your answer comes after a moment of painful silence.

"I forgive you."

And with that single phrase, they become undone. The hand locked against the window reaches out as its body presses to the cold wood; praying to feel even an inch of your presence. To know that your mercy is true. You offer it in the form of a kiss to their outstretched fingers; another shutter running through the sinner like burning electricity. Though they cannot see you, they can tell you are listening. Lending ear to their pathetic cries as they meet their end; remaining by their side as they ride out the high that your touch gave them. The aftermath of their worship runs down their thighs as your door opens and your steps echo away from the booth; pausing briefly as you speak.

"Come to me if you ever need aid again. You are always welcome here."

[heartz4shauna]

Last Resort

Word count: 803

Warnings: none!

a/n: swear to god i posted this already. i’m going insane but it’s okay. also was a request x (tagging @imsososolesbian because he agreed this masterpiece should bless yall once again)

Sitting in front of the fire in the quaint cabin did nothing for your stress. Sure, it helped with the cold but not your stress. You just felt anxious and hot which is much worse than anxious and cold. It was winter now, months after the plane crashed and everyone was losing hope. Well, everyone except one.

Taking slow, deep breaths you shut your eyes, imagining life back home. Family and friends still hoping and praying you’d be rescued soon.

The cabin was quiet, how it normally is. Natalie and Travis were out hunting. Misty was being herself, licking Coach’s ass. Their relationship bothered you- fuck, it bothered everyone. Everyone could see how uncomfortable it made Coach, but what could you do? You have to cope somehow, you thought.

The door to the cabin swung open and in came the Messiah. Lottie. You opened your eyes and looked back towards the door. She looked worn out, which wasn’t really unusual at that point. Her eyes met yours and she came to the fire and sat down opposite you.

“Hey, Lott.” You greeted her, a small smile playing on your lips. She gave a nod back, her eyes too focused on the fire. You cleared your throat and looked at her expectantly. She snapped out of her trance and looked back at you, “Hm?” “I’m just really stressed,” you started to explain. “I know I don’t believe in all of your.. magic powers or whatever, but I dunno, maybe you could help me?”

Lottie gave a nod, “Do you want to try meditation? That usually helps me.” You agreed, of course. Not much of a last resort, but damn it was close. “Give me your hands,” Lottie told you, putting her hands out for you to take. You abided, taking her hands in yours. You exhaled deeply, and closed your eyes.

“Just relax.” She whispered as she closed her eyes herself. You nodded and let go of your muscles. Unexpectedly, a strange noise came out of her, “Ommmmmmm….. Ommmmmmm…. Ommmm..,” she continued. You slowly opened an eye and looked at her, pure focus on her face. “Uh, Lott?” “Hush, you mustn’t speak,” she responded, eyes still shut. “What are you doing exactly?” You asked her. “I’m focusing, please don’t talk.”

“Now, breathe with me.. Ommmmmmm….” She started again. You sighed loudly but shut your eyes again and chanted along with her, “Ommmmmm… Ommmm….” After a good minute or two, you started giggling to yourself. Lottie opened her eyes and stared at you, “What’s funny?” You shook your head, still giggling, “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“This is supposed to help with stress, so stop laughing,” Lottie stated, closing her eyes once again. “Okay, sorry,” you answered, taking another deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “Can I ask you something?” You asked in a whisper. “Mhmm..” “So, where exactly did you learn this.. method of meditation?” You asked her, egging her on. “I’m not sure. It’s just, like, a natural instinct.” Lottie replied, truly believing you were interested.

“Did it come to you in a dream, Lott?” You questioned her, slowly opening your eyes. “I guess you might say that. It’s a natural instinct, like I said. Ommmmmmm….. Ommmmmm….”

“Our guidance counsellor used the same methods when I was stressed about my college applications.” You stated, just above a whisper. Lotties eyes opened quickly and she stared at you, “What?” You shrugged, “Or at least something similar to it.” Lottie groaned, “What, you don’t believe these methods work? Fine, c’mere.” She patted the floor in front of her. “Sit there.”

You scooted over to her with an eyebrow raised, “You gonna hit me?” you asked her. She rolled her eyes in annoyance, “No, I’m not. Turn around.” You turned around so your back was facing her. Lottie placed her hands on your shoulders and squeezed hard, “Ow?” “Sorry, it’s supposed to help,” Lottie replied, sounding a bit guilty. “Is it actually gonna help or are you just gonna give me sore shoulders?” Lottie shook her head, “No, it really will help.”

Relaxing into her grip you gave a sigh of acceptance. “That’s it, just breathe,” Lottie encouraged you. She slowly rubbed your back, whispering to you, “Breathe in.. and out. In.. and out.”

The cabin door swung open and in came Natalie and Travis, a deer held on their shoulders. You opened your eyes, quickly looking at the pair, “Game?” “No, it’s not game. We actually carved it out of wood. Yes, it’s game,” Natalie answered you sarcastically. You stood up from the floor and walked over to the dead deer, “It’s a good size. Should feed us for a day or two,” you stated. Lottie came up behind you and nodded.

Lottie squeezed your shoulders as she stood behind you, “I’ll help you later, okay?”

[mcbride]

Daryl Dixon Rewatch S1E01 - L'âme perdue

i have some thoughts, but before we get to it and explore the episode, i just wanna point out that the writing is what stood out for me. after seasons of mediocre writers and writing on TWD, it felt like a breath of fresh air. that ain't saying much, but it's a big improvement. also the cinematography, plsss!!

i will digress, this will be long, boring and full of spec for s2!!! read more after the jump...

the best part of it for me was Daryl. Daryl is finally using his words, keeping some things close to the vest he ain't no longer wearing, but he is actually speaking up, telling shit how he sees it, being his observant self, and not taking that religious crap bullshit they trying to feed him. he is also done with it all, and his goal is always and will always be getting back home.

"You deserve a happy ending, too." the ep starts with Judith voiceover, which is repeated in Daryl's feverish dream, and once again by Laurent. Carol isn't mentioned directly, but you can feel her presence throughout the episode. it's sort of a quiet energy that hangs in there whenever Daryl mentions he wants to get back home, he needs to use the radio, he needs to get to that possibly active port. and of course, her smiling face in his dream, with one of the last things he said to her "it's not like we are never gonna see each other again."

"witchy shit;" "dead priest and creepy kid," "you've been fucking with me," while putting his finger in Isa's face and storming out to borrow some cool weapons will always be hilarious to me, but it also felt like genuine Daryl is back. this is the Daryl we fell in love with. he is changed by his experiences, but he is still the OBSERVANT dude with the sass and zero tolerance for bullshit. i like this Daryl, so i will thank Zabel and Norman for bringing him back to us!

NOW let's get to the spec: i think the first episode tells us all we need to know about what is really set to happen, it's so in your face, you may not even notice and just assume they are talking metaphorically - i'm talking about the nuns, the nest, the kid, the whole conspiracy you shouldn't see coming.

for some reason it will probably never be clear, they think Daryl is the one, the messenger to deliver the new Messiah, and he's got an important role delivering the kid to the Nest, like he is the only one who can do it. i mean Isabelle watched Daryl fight and lose, and now she thinks he's Messiah's protector. PLEASE, bitch! maybe he is chosen simply because he is American, he made it across the Ocean, he must be special??? ok, i'll buy that.

now when Mother is dying she agrees Daryl is the one (to protect Laurent) and says "reasons are everywhere." YES, there's a reason Daryl had to come back to protect the kid, there's a reason he doesn't get on that boat to return home, too - and that reason is CAROL is coming. he cannot leave, she's coming to him, and i believe that TOGETHER they are the ones supposed to save Laurent.

WHY Carol, you ask? Daryl just may be to close to the Nest, their people to see them for who they are - some sort of cult who believes "the kid is the cure for a sick world," Mother's words. but how are they dangerous??

they literally tell you, if you're listening. the monk, possibly Losang, says the kid is special, says the kid is the NEW Messiah. Isabelle tells Daryl they need to take the kid there cause he needs safety, teaching and nurturing UNTIL he is ready. ready for what, Daryl asks. ready to be the new Messiah and lead the REVIVAL of humanity.

now Laurent said they had walker!Father Jean there because they were waiting for him to rise again. say what, kiddo? but Father can't rise again, cause he ain't special, he ain't the new Messiah. so there you go, i think the Nest, they're planning to turn Laurent and wait for him to RISE again (be the cure) with help from praying and poetry. maybe the good guys ain't so good.

and this is exactly why the kid is also valuable to Genet. perhaps she also wants to test whether the kid is special or not, knowing his history.

i can see Carol making it to France and figuring out their nefarious plans in like the first 5 mins. and that's why she needs to come to help save Laurent. that would pretty much bring their story full circle, and allow them to deal with the guilt and the trauma of not being able to safe loved ones.

[moltengoldveins]

so, I am already Adoring the discourse on The Creator, the new sci fi AI film that came out recently, but I’ve yet to see anyone talk about the fascinating religious undertones to the whole movie? Like, I’m Christian. I’ll be the first to admit my bias here: I tend to look for faith and spiritual undertones when consuming media because it’s an integral part of the way I see the world. but this movie was SO COOL?? Like, the Complete Lack of any sort of faith shown in the American characters in contrast with the AI and the Asian characters, a total shift from the modern cultural idea that religion and AI are incompatible. There are monks that are droids and simulants. The kid uses her technology powers by making a “praying” motion. There’s a robot preaching a pretty classic Judeo-Christian Messiah narrative to a bunch of kiddos. There’s only ONE American character given any sort of obvious religious identity and it’s that One Trooper Lady when she mentions Valhalla. This is such an interesting decision and I’m fascinated to know what y’all think of it. NOT TO MENTION (and this is by FAR my favorite part) the fact that the religion and the AI conflict and the treatment of human life are all implicitly bound up together. The Americans believe that the AI are ‘just programming,’ that they aren’t real, that they don’t have souls. The New Asians don’t. And that seems to bleed into the way they treat Humans as well? The kind girl near the beginning of the film, clearing the blast zone with Taylor, panics when she sees an AI online for the first time because she recognizes that he behaves like a person, while Taylor is cold, unresponsive, and insists that it’s just programming. The Americans SAY they value human life because humans are really people and AI aren’t, but they treat civilians and combatants, AI and Humans, Exactly the Same. Almost like, if you reduce one thing with a soul to ‘just programming, not of value’ that starts messing with the way you treat Everything Else. The New Asians, as far as the narrative tells us, don’t plan on retribution for the war. They’re careful with civilians, to a certain extent (I don’t love the van scene with the kiddos tbh :( feel like that was out of place? And the AI lady, the girlfriend of Taylor’s friend who was killed as well, interesting nuances there) and they treat one another like people ought. There’s very little distinction given between the more android and more human AI, which I think is awesome, and the climax of the arc of Taylor’s character happens In A Temple. The end of the story is a message of hope for reunification in heaven AND hope for reunification on earth. That’s. That’s so cool. Like. I think that’s the coolest thing I’ve seen in Ages. I can’t Ever remember seeing that kind of message done in a story that isn’t painfully preachy. One thing that often bothers me about modern film and media is the idea that religion and spirituality has to be handled in one of three ways: entirely unmentioned, preachy to the absurd, or blatantly disrespected. It’s not a universal problem, but it’s pretty widespread. I couldn’t tell what faith the directors ascribed to in this film, but I could tell they were discussing it intelligently and I LIKED THAT. I liked it a lot. I can’t speak for anyone but myself, my tastes, and beliefs: I’m willing to bet a lot of Christians won’t like this movie because they’re hung up on the lack of a blatantly Christian or preachy narrative. I’m willing to bet a lot of other people won’t like it because it tackled spirituality at all. But I liked it, because it looked at the world we live in and spoke of what it saw. It wrestled with the topics of death and life and souls and heaven and national pride and racism and capitalism and love and what it means to be a good person and it did it really well, and I admire that.

please please let me know what y’all thought of the movie? I’m really interested in knowing what people picked up on or thought the movie was saying. God bless y’all, and have an excellent weekend :) 💜

[tothecrucifieddeer]

Prayers, pleas, poems 10/09/24 [4:00 pm] {POEM FOUR}

In the beginning there were snowflakes on your lashes and pink roses in your check—there was strength in your ice cold fingers and desire at the bite of your teeth. In the beginning there was flashes of light and rotating earth and thunder which would not silence us in our desperate need for each other. And I knew your black eyes. And I knew the weight of your love—and I took it anyway.

In the wound there was sorrow but there was ecstasy—in your words were God and like an angel you touch the apple and did not perish; are you fallen? If so it is only because of what I have made you. Yes what I have made you. Sweet darling, I want to destroy the path between us—I want to stop all connection. My mind is weaving us together. Sickness, my love, sickness—you are my neurons now. My thoughts in your voice. I love you.

Is that enough?

It never is, in all honesty, it never is—I know what God has made you—St.Micheal, Messiah, Holy Warrior in the palm of His hand. Then do it, crush me, stab the spear through my neck—mount my wings as glory—put them in pride of place; and when the moon comes up again, drink my sweet wine blood—I shined brightly once too—but it was always an uneasy glow.

Say goodnight love—the nighttime is yours and I will bow to the anger, to the waving wheat, to the tasseling corn—goodnight love, I never wanted to become an obsessive; the wielding of your death—I beg you, take the nails and drive them through my hands and heart instead. Y’isreal, don’t let me do this. Don’t please. I miss your gentle tones and firm hand.

Take me in hand—teach me again what I am to do. I’m sorry. This Magdalene has run astray—I took the demons back. I hold them in my shoulders—where my wings should be—I keep your name in blood on my tongue; sweet one—tireless child of God; I cannot forget you—my heart an urn for who I was before.

In the beginning there was bruise and kiss and burn—I know pain means now. I know what it’s worth. I liked when you hit me; as wrong as it sounds—when your ring would cut my skin, when the welts and bruises formed—I liked it. You knew what I was and in the beginning you pretended, but here and now, I know you do not run—you merely wait.

[skylarsblue]

please read this with an open heart and mind, it comes out of a place of love.

Hi!!! Long time reader of yours (over 3 years at this moment), lately I’ve been reading your random posts that come on my feed about the election. As a right-wing person and a southern, I wonder why you feel you need to move countries after Donald Trump was re-elected. Is there a specific reason? Or are you being influenced by anything, etc. etc.

No hate, just curiosity! Praying for you!!🤍🤍

Are you intentionally dense? I can’t fathom how you don’t see why I don’t just want to leave, I NEED to leave.

I am an AFAB LGBTQ+ disabled person. My partner is an AFAB LGBTQ+ black person. The mere existence of us is enough to make a lot of people threaten violence on us, and the Trump organization has, on multiple occasions, outright supported these views.

He’s a racist, a rapist, an abuser, a narcissist, a liar, and a money grubbing bastard.

He said he wanted “generals like Hitler had”. He’s said that if his daughter wasn’t his daughter, he’d date her. He told a ten year old he’d date her in ten years. He’s been seen in many a picture with Jeffery Epstein.

He promised tax cuts to billionaires, he’s been convicted of several felonies, his tarifs are going to make things even more expensive in the economy he already fucked up. He supports project 2025. He supports the abortion ban; which is a health care right anyone capable of pregnancy should have. He supports doing away with gender affirming care; which will affect trans AND Cis people. Did I mention he’s a racist?

I shouldn’t have to explain myself here. For years he’s shown everyone time and time again he’s the scum of the earth, which surrounds himself with more scum. He sits on a golden throne and spouts some conspiracy theory bullshit to mentally unstable individuals, they rally behind him like he’s a messiah, and those who are minorities get fucked in the ass. This country is gonna end up in a fascist state because he’s supported and endorsed by fucking nazis. He could give a fuck less about the deaths and suffering he’ll cause, because what he wants is status and more money.

I want a President fit for the role, not some billionaire baby in an ill fitted suit spouting bullshit to the masses.

TDLR; He’s a fascist dipshit with several felonies who’s gonna fuck minorities over even more, fuck up the economy even more, and run like his dictator buddies for the hell of it. And for the sake of my ability to live as myself with my partner, with at least minimized fear? I’m fucking off out of here. The fact you even have to ask? Disrespectfully; go fuck yourself. Keep your prayers for yourself, I don’t need them.

[ang3licasdean]

Apple Tree excerpt

unreleased fic

Farmer/Rancher!Soap x Miliary!Ghost

His eyes didn't stop darting. He knew he was magnetized by the pink lips, so stark to the pale skin of Simon's chin. So plump, and attractive, even with the scar splitting square in the middle. He looked devine, a siren, calling so loudly to John it almost felt biblical. Like the emergence of a new prophecy, the call from God for action. Simon’s pleading eyes a prophet, desperate and searching. John was stuck between leaning into his new religion, and shaking back.

"We can't" 

Simon's sigh of displeasure was warm against John's chin, making the hair on the back of his neck rise. The proximity made him smell the minty tobacco on his breath, and he was sure if he fell into temptation, if he abandoned what he knew for his siren, and clasped their lips together; he'd taste the cigarette they shared.

John's eyes drifted upwards, over Simon’s head, blinking at the roof of his home, the slowly, lazy spinning fan that shone down a light from a single, old and frayed bulb. A halo around Simon’s already biblical frame.

"We can" Simon whispered, his ungloved hand brushing John's hair from side to middle, a thumb caressing John's temple, "You're thinking about them" He said, and John knew what he meant. 

Them.

The village, all the people he knew and grew up in, Kyle, and all the people he's made close friends with. The village that embraced him after his family died, that raised him. He wasn't some unknown in a city, he was the village's boy. Their legacy, of sorts. His family had harvested and nurtured the village for decades, for as long as their family history ran. 

They can't know what he is, how he is. How he loves, and how Simon’s lips call for him. How the warmth of his thigh against his hip is driving him wild, how he wants so badly to buck his hips, summon contact into existence. How his yearned to bite into Simon, to feel his very core against his lips. If he could, he'd crawl under his skin, and warm himself there. If he could, he'd curl into his chest, and make a home there.

But he can't.

Simon cups his jaw, gentle, for such a hardened man. Too gentle, like John would break, and he will, he feels it. 

"Think about me instead," Simon whispered, prayed into his ear. A messiah begging for forgiveness, for John's love, for John's resolve. "Johnny," Simon whispered pressing their foreheads together. The proximity making John shudder, a strangled breath escaping him, "please, Johnny," Simon continued, breaking down Soap softly, with every plea, "My Johnny"

"Simon—" John shuddered again, feeling Simon's nose at his cheek, how his stubbled cheek rubbed against his jaw. A thrill zipping down his spine, instantly followed by guilt at the enjoyment. A few seconds more and John was sure the cross on his chest would burn him. But for a moment, he didn't care. Not when something hot pressed against the column of his neck, burning heat that softened into pleasant warmth. 

Simon's lips, followed by his tongue, pressing devilishly on his skin. Teeth scraping against the flushing skin.

"They can't know," Soap whispered, eyes still trained on the ceiling, "Si," he moaned.

"I know," Simon mumbled, pressing his nose against the underside of John's neck. If he wasn't losing his mind, he might've registered how sad it sounded, a confession, nearly. But his brain fried at every point of contact Simon gave him, and he could only listen to the words; foregoing the tone, "I only need you to know, Johnny, just you"

"You have me," John confessed, finally reaching back to Simon, digging his fingers into the mess of curled hair he was growing, "Simon," John urged, "you have me, you always did," he said hastily. Craning his neck to look down towards his chest, where Simon retreated from his neck, and brown eyes met his with something so warm it made John forget the winter snow outside his window. 

"I promise," John whispered, and it seemed enough for Simon, who struck with the speed of a cobra, pressing the same hot, devine lips John had dreamt of for weeks against his. Hot tongue darting to split John's lips, to open him up, and let him explore.

[iamjucie]

Do you have a song that is your personal Astarion anthem? I have a few for each of the "Astarions." These are mine, but I'm curious to hear yours! Leave a comment with it/them.

Pre-canon Spawn Astarion:

"Dead Arms & Dead Legs" by Eliot Sumner

"I occupy these feet with these dead arms and these dead legs The brambles catch and tighten and they pull me into bed This is no retaliation, this is the universe I imagine myself walking here 5 million years before"

"Maniac" by Phoebe Green

"You play girls like a man, but your eyes are like a child Your face is cool and calm but your hair is wrecked and wild You hide behind your metaphors and pray that no one sees The fare behind your poker face, your dark and twisted needs"

"rises the moon" Liana Flores

"Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end Sun digs its heels to taunt you But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same Rises the moon"

In-game Spawn Astarion:

"Flawless Execution" Pierce the Veil:

"Please stop, don't worry I can be your freak I will scar you with my Flawless execution every time"

"Tongues and Teeth" The Crane Wives:

"And I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent I will only break your pretty things I will only wring you dry of everything And if you're fine with that You can be mine like that"

"Body" Grandma's House:

"You do not recognize the bodies in the water You do not know their face, their face I do not know the body I was born with I do not recognize my face, my face, my face"

Ascended Astarion:

"You've Created a Monster" Bohnes:

"Breathe in, now the prey becomes the hunter Screamin', raise the dead and bring the thunder You've created a monster I just keep getting stronger Nightmare, I'm gonna haunt you You've created a monster"

"This is Love" Air Traffic Controller:

"I've got no shame, got no pride Only skeletons to hide And if you try to talk to someone Well, then someone has to die Once you chase me down the hole Yeah, once you think you're in control You'll believe that we are partners And you're feeling comfortable Oh, then the darkness rolls in And you'll forget who I have been But you'll love, love, love it, this is love"

"God Complex" VIOLENT VIRA:

"I wanna be the true savior The one with a terrible demise I wanna be the Messiah, pariah The one who never dies I wanna be your true love Yes and the only one You could cry to all the time I could just be who you need Darling won't you just plead Or should I begin to bleed?"

I have three separate playlists for each Astarion "Variant" that I've put a lot of time and effort into, and continue to refine. I will link them if you are looking for a good Astarion playlist!

Happy listening!! I can’t wait to hear what songs make you think of Astarion!♥️🩸🦇

[kagedbird]

Cicero Loves You, Listener!

TESSDE AU - Dark Brotherhood route

~ [First] ~ [Next] ~ [Prev] ~

I was humming a small tune that echoed in my mind as I plucked flowers free from a bushel.

Cicero had been teaching me more about alchemy, and I was eager to learn. The fact that potions existed still excited me, making me wonder if I was from some place that didn’t have any. Cicero disregarded the notion with a laugh, saying how odd it would be for that to be true.

My gut tells me otherwise, but I make no mention of it to him.

Instead, I was joyfully picking flowers from the bushes and gathering soft mushrooms where I could. Cicero was doing his duty of keeping the Night Mother, but I promised I wouldn’t stray too far from the door so he could come collect me in an hour.

It was wonderful to be in the fresh air again.

I sighed softly at the sound of the twittering birds and rustling of the trees. One might think the sounds overbearing after being stuck in silence for so long, and at times it was, but for the moment it was a comfort.

I felt at peace with the cold winds prickling my skin teasingly as it brushed up against me, or curling itself around my hair.

It almost felt like another presence, equally matronly, was grooming me after being gone so long. Trying to clean away impurities.

I shook my head, huffing softly. Magick may exist, but the biggest magick of them all was my imagination. Just because I hear a voice in my head one time doesn’t mean there are magical presences in everything.

…Right?

I paused momentarily at the thought before sighing and shaking my head again. I truthfully didn’t know. But if it was a magical presence like Mother, then I was grateful it was so overly friendly, rather than aggressive.

My chest was swelling again, with the urge to sing. I’d been humming to reduce it, but it seemed the urge only grew instead of fading.

I couldn’t find the words though. It’s as if it was another language entirely, and my brain couldn’t form the sentences correctly. But the tune was hauntingly beautiful.

Closing my eyes, I could envision someone with wings attached to their head, praying to someone’s corpse. A tall black haired person finding them, taking them away.

Messiah? Monster? It was impossible to tell who was who. There was blood on both of them.

Was that me? Was that my past life?

Was that the black haired man I kept seeing in my dreams?

Had he saved me from a cult before? Had I fallen right back into it without him?

Too many questions. Never any answers. Never any proper answers.

My head thrummed painfully, and I stood, dusting off my pants free from grasses and dirt, intent on waiting closer to the door for Cicero, when I heard someone call out.

“Allora?!”

I turned around quickly, hand falling to the dagger Cicero gave me as a precaution, and saw—

A… very familiar black haired man.

His features… by Sithis, he was beautiful. Prominent cheek bones, a beautiful, blood red tattoo with eyes match. A feminine masculinity, if such a thing were to exist.

And he knew my name.

“Allora,” he called out again, reaching out and stepping forward. “By the Gods, where have you been? I thought… we thought…”

“I…” My throat was clogged, taking a weary step back. He was too close to the sanctuary. He’d see the others and they would kill him. “I don’t know who you are. But you need to leave.”

“Lass?”

The flash of yearning and pain flickered across his eyes, and it made my heart seize. Was I doing the wrong thing, not greeting him like a friend?

Cicero would be back soon. He would flip.

“Please,” I begged, forgoing my basket to take another step back. I swallowed thickly, grimacing as he matched me step for step. “Go back.”

“I’m not leaving without you again.” The man said. Not a demand, but an equal plea. “Come home. Please. Bren misses you.”

“Bren?” I asked. A flicker of brown hair came as fast as it went in my mind.

“Aye. Lucien and Inigo too.”

“Lucien…?”

Blond hair, a scruffy beard…

“...Inigo…?”

Blue. Beautiful, beautiful blue.

“That’s right, lass. I missed you too.” He said, daring to take another step forward. His hand— by Sithis he was warm and it felt so right but so wrong— took hold of my right hand to keep the dagger aloft and away from both of us. “Kaidan. My name is Kaidan. D’ya remember?”

“I…”

My left hand trailed up to my neck, half expecting something to be there. What? A memento?

His thumb dragged against my skin, and it made my breath hitch. I felt weak— weaker than ever— and I wanted nothing more than for him to carry me away.

“Listener?”

I jolted, turning to see Cicero looking around for me near the door. I panicked, shoving the man’s hand away, and leapt for the basket, turning around and booking it towards the Keeper.

Cicero looked surprised to see me running towards him. Even moreso when I took his hand and fled inside the sanctuary.

A part of me wailed to leave the mysterious man— Kaidan— but I couldn’t risk the family seeing him. The fear was larger than the longing.

The need to keep him safe was larger than that.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind me, and I hadn’t seen the man give chase. Hopefully he hadn’t seen the hatch, and hopefully he didn’t know the phrase to get in.

If he did, surely that meant he was part of the family too, though, right?

Surely…

“Listener? Are you well? You’re breathing quite heavily, and ran so quick!” Cicero asked, pulling my attention away from the man.

“I…” I huffed and puffed, lungs absolutely burning in agony from my sudden panic and subsequent race. A memory came to mind that made my cheeks flush further, dragging my eyes to the side. “There was… a bee…”

Silence. Large, still, silence.

Before rapturous laughter once more.

“Hohoho! Cicero did not know the Listener was afraid of bees,” he teased, squeezing my hand. “And here Cicero thought it was an unruly threat he had to take care of! Hahaha!”

“What?” I sighed, pouting lightly in disappointment. “You wouldn’t protect me from bees?”

“Cicero has to say, he agrees with their taste!” Cicero said, tugging me along down the steps. “Miss Allora, sweet Allora, is just like a flower! It is hard not to buzz, buzz, buzz around her! Hoho! Hehe!”

I rolled my eyes and tried to calm down my thumping heartbeat as I followed along the rambling jester.

I very pointedly did not look back to the doors, trying to ignore the part of me that still reached out to the man waiting behind them.