#the priests are so funny though what do they know

[theindefinitearticle]

I have been working on my typesetting for an illustrated Gideon the ninth again and let me tell you! Weird fucking way to read a book! Just skimming it over and over again.

[venus-haze]

God's Got a Sick Sense of Humor (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Your decision to dress up as a slutty nun for Halloween has unexpected consequences when you make the acquaintance of an equally attractive and disturbed priest. (AO3 link)

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Not entirely spoiler-free, but if you’ve watched up to episode 6, you should be good! Also I couldn't find what the parish name was, so I made one up. The gif doesn't really have anything to do with the fic, I just like it🤭 Please look at the warnings before deciding whether to read this fic.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Non-con involving degradation, rough oral sex (m. receiving); ambiguous ending.

You knew early on in the night you had made a mistake in costume choice. The vinyl skirt started pinching your waist after less than an hour of wearing it, the nipple pasties were slowly peeling off despite your best effort, and the platform heels weren’t forgiving after several shots of tequila. The vinyl habit stayed in place with the bobby pins you used, but after a while, it felt like it was cooking your head.

Your friends found your plight funnier as the night went on, cracking jokes about how it was God punishing you for wearing the costume in the first place. Lisa had little trouble with her Tinkerbell costume, a green mini-dress and sparkly heels she pulled from her closet and a cheap set of fairy wings from the same Spirit Halloween you got your costume from. Julie’s Bridgerton-inspired costume seemed a bit out of place compared to you and Lisa, but she got a lot of compliments on the details.

For the limited the fun your little desert town had to offer, something was definitely missing from the night out.

“Why did Merritt say she couldn’t make it, again?” Lisa asked, the three of you walking down the street to the next bar you’d inevitably terrorize. All the usual haunts, where the bartenders knew your order and half the patrons were people you’d gone to high school with and definitely didn’t want to see again.

You shrugged. “I texted her earlier, and she said she couldn’t make it, something came up.”

“It sucks she doesn’t hang out anymore,” Julie said. “Did we do something?”

“I mean, her dad’s in a coma, and her mom’s working all the time with those gross murders going on,” Lisa said. “She’s probably the only one keeping things together at home.”

The three of you had known Merritt for years, your friend group becoming tight-knit as time went on. Getting carted to and from soccer games turned into sleepovers and late nights getting fast food. You got to know the Tryons pretty well over the years. Her dad was nice enough, and you always found her mom funny, if not a bit overprotective, but Lois always remembered your birthday.

“I’m gonna stop by sometime this week. It’s been way too long since any of us have seen her,” you resolved.

Lisa and Julie agreed, though you weren’t sure Merritt would appreciate all of you showing up unannounced at her house. You figured you’d be better off going yourself and seeing what the deal was with Merritt.

Stumbling over your platforms, you struggled to keep up with Lisa and Julie until you tripped and nearly wiped out on the sidewalk. You caught yourself on a nearby telephone pole, the lights from the nearby buildings blurring the more you tried to focus.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Are you sure?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah, I’m gonna find a convenience store and then get an Uber home.”

“We can go with you,” Julie said.

You shook your head. “Don’t end your night early because of me.”

“Alright, text us when you get home.”

When the world finally appeared upright again, you looked at the nearby street sign, recognizing where you were, at least. Not far to the nearest shop that you were certain would be open late. You checked your phone for the time and felt especially lame. It wasn’t even midnight yet.

With a sigh, you turned down the street, opening your messages to your most recent text to Merritt. Your FaceTime request went unanswered, so you opted for an audio message instead.

“Hey Mer, it’s me. We missed you tonight!” You paused awkwardly, wishing you could actually talk to her. “Look, there’s a Halloween party tomorrow night, something out in the desert. It’s not too late to get a costume. We could go to the Spirit Halloween in the old Bed, Bath and Beyond—“ A catcall interrupted your rambling. “Look, just call me or something, at least let me know you’re alright? Bye, babe.”

The fluorescent lights in the store were almost headache-inducing, but you powered through for a bottle of Gatorade and a protein bar that you hoped would mitigate the hangover you’d inevitably have in the morning. 

Gatorade in hand, you felt almost dizzy staring at the array of protein bars in front of you, wondering how there could even be so many and if they were really any different. A man walked down the aisle, standing a few feet away from you, though you didn’t pay him much mind until you grabbed a protein bar and noticed he was dressed as a priest.

“Hey, nice costume,” you told him.

“Oh, this isn’t a costume.”

You laughed. “Right.” Your inhibitions lowered, you gave him a once over, your gaze lingering on his handsome face, his muscular arms. “You know it’s a shame we didn’t run into each other earlier tonight, we probably could’ve won a couples contest or something.”

He smiled, though something flickered in his brown eyes that made your guts churn. Except, it likely wasn’t him, as you shoved what you were holding onto the shelf next to you and rushed out of the store.

You wretched, the contents of your stomach emptied onto the blacktop. Tears burned your eyes, your throat scratchy and raw by the time you were done. You felt a hand on your upper back, could barely hear the sound of a man asking if you were okay over the sound of blood pounding in your ears.

Glancing up, you were mortified to see the priest looking at you with concern, though disgust was nowhere in his expression.

He handed you the Gatorade you’d been holding in the store, apparently going ahead and buying it for you. Taking a swig, you swished some around in your mouth before spitting it on the ground. He gave you a handful of crumpled napkins as well, and you tried maintaining what was left of your dignity while getting yourself together in front of him.

You managed a mousy thanks, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Don’t tell me you plan on driving home,” he said.

You shook your head. “I came out here with my friends."

"And they just left you like this? Alone?"

"I told them I'd get an Uber.”

“They'll charge you double tonight," he said. "I can drive you.”

Accepting a ride home from a stranger certainly wasn’t the smartest choice to make, but he actually seemed to give a shit about your well-being. You agreed, if not for the fact that you were curious about him, and the horny part of your brain hadn't shut up since you saw him.

He kept his hand on your back as he walked you over to his car. Almost felt like his fingers were twitching against your skin. 

Getting into his car, you noticed the rosary hanging from the rearview mirror, a saint card clipped to his visor. 

“Oh my god, are you actually a priest?” you asked from the passenger seat as he turned the car on.

“I told you it wasn’t a costume.”

“Shit.”

“Father Charlie Mayhew, from Our Lady of Sorrows, if you don’t believe me.” He smiled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your address?”

After giving him your address along with your name, realizing you hadn’t told him yet, you rolled the window down about halfway, finding the fragrant odor of incense and cologne a bit overwhelming for your queasy stomach. The cool night air gave you instant relief, and you laid back on the headrest, keeping your eyes closed for a few minutes. 

Father Charlie filled the quiet with a true crime podcast. Not a particularly odd choice, except that he was a priest, but Catholicism always lent itself to morbidity—his was more modern, you supposed.

“Have you heard about those murders around town?” you asked over the sound of a young woman giving the background of a triple homicide.

“Yes, our parish’s publication has been reporting on it,” he said. “I'm the editor, but one of our nuns is working closely with the lead detective on the case.”

You opened your eyes to look at him in disbelief. “Lois is working with a nun?”

“You know detective Tryon?”

“She’s my best friend’s mom,” you said. “I went to her house all the time growing up.”

“You must know her pretty well, then.”

“Yeah, Lois is one hell of a detective,” you said. “Still, I can’t imagine…whoever’s behind it must be depraved. What he’s doing—it’s not even human, it’s animal.”

“He?”

“I don’t think anyone but a man could be capable of that kind of barbarism, Father.”

“You might be right about that,” he said solemnly.

You drank more Gatorade, hoping to settle your stomach and ease your discomfort with the direction the conversation had taken. But you were the one who brought up the murders in the first place. All had some kind of religious connotation. No wonder the Catholic paper was eating that shit up. 

Catholicism was always predisposed to an especially grotesque morbidity. Open wounds considered blessings. Bones of the holy displayed with reverence. Even bread and wine transformed into the body and blood of Christ himself. Whoever was behind the recent murders was either observant or well-read.

Father Charlie pulled up to your building about ten minutes later, and you internally sighed in relief when he turned the podcast off. You couldn’t wait to get out of the damn costume and into bed.

“Thanks, Father Charlie,” you said. “I owe you one.”

“Actually, mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked.

You shook your head. “‘Course not. Come on up.”

Acutely aware of the costume you were wearing again, it was far too tempting not to show off on the way up to your apartment, swinging your hips a bit more than was warranted, knowing he was right behind you, the tight skirt giving him a full view of your ass. You privately bemoaned the fact that he was actually a priest. What a fucking waste. A guy who looked like him had no business giving himself to Jesus and denying the rest of the world the pleasure.

You took a selfie by your front door, a tired smile and a thumbs up that you sent to Julie and Lisa.

“Just letting my friends know I got home safe,” you explained, noticing Father Charlie staring at you.

You could barely hide your self-satisfied smile when you unlocked the front door. “The bathroom’s through the kitchen, first door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

Making a beeline for your bedroom, the first thing you did was take your heels off. Your feet were still sore, with a mean blister that made you walk funny when you brought the heels over to your shoe rack. You could hear the toilet flush and the water from the sink run in the bathroom. Chewing on your lip, you were almost tempted to ask Father Charlie if he wanted to stick around. If you could just brush your teeth and reapply some makeup real quick, you'd be good as new.

You never got a chance to.

“So, why this costume?” he asked, startling you.

You gasped, turning around to see him leaning against the door frame. “Oh, um—I thought it was funny.”

“What’s funny about it?”

“Well, nuns aren’t supposed to have sex, and this costume is—”

“Pornographic," he said. "I mean, it’s something you get fucked in.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, shocked at his bluntness.

“Chastity. The sacred vow to God that all women of the cloth take, and you—” he scoffed to himself, stepping into your bedroom so he was only a few feet away from you, “you mock it.”

You knew you should’ve picked the sexy nurse costume instead. “I’m so sorry, Father.”

“You will be. Get on your knees.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Don’t be crude. This is about repentance.”

The searing venom in his voice made your muscles contort to his will, and you found yourself on your knees. You should have been fighting back, screaming for him to get out, but in your heart you knew it was useless. Back in the convenience store, you noticed his fit physique, and you could hardly count on your neighbors to give a shit if you were in any kind of trouble.

"Do you even know how to make a sign of the cross?" he asked mockingly.

You shakily did so, bringing your left hand to your forehead, then your chest, then to each shoulder. He scoffed, apparently you messed something up, but he didn't elaborate, instead ordering you to repeat after him. The prayer came jumbled from your mouth, 'through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault' over and over until his voice was ringing in your ears like a broken church bell.

The bulge in his pants was impossible to ignore. You kept your eyes focused on his face, even when you heard the sound of his zipper and clothes shifting. But you couldn't help it, not when he was pumping his cock right in front of your face. Your repetition dipped with a slight whimper when you glanced at the size of him, foolishly hoping it was just proximity making his length appear so intimidating and angry, as if it wanted to hurt you just like he did.

“Simply praying won’t do someone like you any good," he said abruptly. "You need another form of penance, something more tangible."

Shoving his cock in your open mouth, you choked at the intrusion, attempted to shift backward and finally make a run for it, but he caught you by the habit you so stupidly kept in place with bobby pins and hit the back of your throat.

"Why don't you give me ten Hail Marys?" he mocked, his looming silhouette appearing outright demonic through your tear-filled gaze.

You didn't know the damn prayer. Couldn't even try to fake it when all you could manage was muffled pleas for him to slow down, go easy on you, have mercy. Your jaw ached, throat burned at the force he used to make you take as much of his cock as you possibly could.

He didn't show any signs of fatigue, save for the beads of sweat that rolled from his face and onto your own. He grinned at that, at you, the position you were in. The church was full of sickos, and he was certainly no exception.

Making one feeble attempt to fight back, your teeth grazed his cock, and just as you tried to work up the courage to bite down, he jerked his hips, cursing under his breath.

"Take it," his voice a low growl as he came in your mouth, ignoring your choking, spit and snot and cum leaking down your face and onto your vinyl costume and exposed breasts, "take your penance, slut."

Father Charlie hardly gave you a chance to catch your breath when he pulled his spent cock out of your mouth. You practically collapsed on your bedroom floor, each gasp of air painful against the back of your abused throat. Grabbing you by the habit again, he hauled you over to your bed, bending you over the edge of it.

He shoved his fingers between your legs and scoffed at the wetness that coated your thighs, your thong doing little to contain your subconscious reaction to the way he treated you. "Oh, that's just shameful," he drawled. "You're not repentant at all, are you? Leading a man of the cloth astray, causing me to sin…why else would you have put this costume on tonight?"

Straddling you from behind like a dog, his body was heavy on yours. With one hand squeezing your neck, the other pressed something against your throat. You reached for whatever he was holding, freezing in panic when you realized it was the hair scissors you kept in your bathroom. He must have swiped it while he was in there. They weren't even that sharp, but the extra effort he'd have to put in to mortally injure you with them would mean it would be all the more painful for you.

“Depraved, animal, barbaric,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Is that what you think of me?”

You whimpered, feeling his cruel laughter rumble in his chest against your back. “No—no, you can’t be—”

“I was going to do something about that costume anyway, but having that mutual friend in common,” he mused, “I just can’t pass up the opportunity to leave Detective Tryon a personal message. Call it divine will.”

“I’m sorry,” you choked out.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You can tell God yourself how sorry you are,” he whispered.

“No—Father, please don’t—”

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian's girlfriend is addicted to sucking him off. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Sloppy blowjob, cum, name-calling 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I'll fix it! 🖤 Taglist: If you'd like to be added, please click here! 🖤 MASTERLIST

She’s giving him that look again. He can see her out of the corner of his eye as he scrolls Twitter on a phone that nearly disappears in his huge hand. She’s on the opposite end of the couch, knees bent to support the iPad in her lap where he can hear she’s watching Friends for the nine millionth time, though she seems to have no interest in Joey proposing to Rachel.

It’s the gray sweatpants, he knows. The question has never been answered as to what it is exactly about the gray sweatpants that drive women wild, but he couldn’t be less concerned with the why. No, no, he’s much more focused on the results of this phenomenon—results, he guesses, that are quite imminent. On the off chance he’s wrong, he lifts one long leg and places his foot on the coffee table after tugging at the sweatpants near the apex of his thighs to create a bulge he’s openly proud of. Grinning, still watching her through his peripheral, he notices her thighs rubbing together, which knocks the iPad to the floor with a thud.

“Shit,” she whispered, reaching for it.

“Leave it,” he orders, a rumble like thunder in the distance, his eyes sliding to her. She turns back to him, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes are on his for just a moment before they slide to his lips, where she trades the biting of her lip for sucking it into her mouth, a gratuitous act that demands his attention every time. “We both know what you really want.”

She feigns innocence for a nanosecond, and then she is overwhelmed by the need for him, specifically the need for his cock in her mouth. Almost as much as he loves her licking and sucking on his dick, watching her transform from the bubbly, businesswoman girlfriend to the depraved cockwhore he sees before him now is a completely different ballgame. Her eyes are two tiny black holes, ravaged with avidity and lechery, and he feels himself harden in an instant. Abandoning his phone, his chin dips as he curls his finger. Maneuvering herself onto her hands and knees, she crawls the short distance to Damian, stopping, awaiting instructions. Enchanted by her yearning for him and her natural, obedient nature, he presses the pad of his thumb to her lips, watching with a tilted head as she kisses the digit. He sucks in a breath when his finger disappears inside her mouth, her hot, wet tongue sweeping across his skin.

“You want this dick, don’t you?” he growls. She nods, black eyes toeing the line between she-devil and puppy dog, sucking tenderly on his thumb. He pulls it out with a resounding pop, the momentary devastation on her face sending the remainder of the blood in his body straight into his groin, tenting the sweatpants that started the whole thing. “Mi dulce gatita quiere su leche,” he whispers, cradling one side of her head as he works to unleash himself with his other hand. She blushes, and he can feel the heat against the palm of his hand, but she nods just the same, moving her body an inch closer to him. He’s impressed she knows what he said, considering she only recently began learning Spanish, but her thirst for knowledge is insatiable, much like her hunger for him. “Show me where you want it.” Without a thought, her jaw drops and her tongue rolls out like in the old cartoons on Saturday mornings, except this isn’t funny and it isn’t cute—it is outright indecent and pornographic, and could he be any more in love than he already is?

Upon pulling his cock out—a cock perfectly proportioned to his six foot five inch frame, thank you very much—she starts toward the floor. Hand still on her face, he lowers it to gently clutch her jaw, stopping her in her tracks. “Face down,” he instructs, “ass up.”

Grinning, she bends over, heat and wet encompassing the head of his dick, neither of them fans of a slow build up. A groan rips from his chest as he reaches for and palms her ass, smirking and shaking his head to discover she is wearing nothing underneath her leggings. His middle finger slips down the crack of her ass, still over the leggings, quickly encountering a growing wet spot. He begins to massage her pussy, feeling the lips easily separate, bringing his middle finger in contact with her clit. She growls around him, entire body wracked with a shiver, forcing him as deep into her throat as possible, and Damian places his free hand on the back of her head, helping her gain almost another inch. His eyes roll back and his head falls against the couch as she coughs, sputters, and drools around the cock she tells him she dreams about almost on a nightly basis.

“Sí, mi vida,” he whispers, pumping his hips into her mouth. “Just like that. Let me hear how much you love my cock.” His eyes open as her back bows so she can spread her thighs further apart, allowing her to buck against his fingers. He can smell her want, and he can hear her need, and this might be the shortest amount of time he’s lasted before that familiar pressure starts to build at the base of his spine.

“Fuck, your mouth,” he wails, slipping his hand under her leggings, long fingers immediately delving within her soaking folds. 

She throws her head back, her mouth releasing him with a much more filthy version of the pop from earlier. “Fuck,” she whines, holding the obscenity out for as long as there was breath in her lungs. Her hand, seemingly so small around his cock, continues jerking, her wrist flicking every few pumps. He snatches her chin and smashes his lips against hers, their tongues brawling like they’re in the main event of Wrestlemania, and he doesn’t know what it is about tasting himself on her tongue, but he fucking loves it.

“You’re such a whore for this cock,” he rasps, his lips rubbing along her swollen ones.

“Mhmmm,” she beams, nodding, their noses massaging one another, hand still stroking, her entire upper body vibrating with the movement. Her breaths come in short bursts.

Damian nods in unison with her, still gripping her chin. “And where does my whore want me to cum?”

“In my mouth.” The answer is prompt, and the desperation in her murmur is almost enough to make him shoot his load right inside these stupid sweatpants. “Please cum in my mouth,” she begs.

Hand returning to the back of her head, this time gripping the messy bun threatening to come apart, he impales her throat with his cock, sliding in deeper than ever before. Though the last inch or two of his length is still visible, it’s covered in her spit and slobber and hard work, and maybe he won’t train her to take the whole thing. Maybe he’ll simply encourage her to choke more, gag more, and in return, she’ll salivate more. Damn, he’s a genius.

But he’ll have to pat himself on the back later because she’s in the middle of a coughing spell—too much of him all at once—the pulses from her throat trying to dislodge this huge foreign object were like tiny little vibrators all around his cock. She starts to lift her head, cheeks a dark crimson, a few tears falling, and he can’t allow it. He’s too close, and she feels too fucking good. He forces her back down, eyes closing to focus only on the nasty, wet sounds, and the slaps and shoves on his thighs as she tries to get free, as she tries to find oxygen.

“Tómalo,” he commands, holding her in place for a few more seconds, for a few more pumps into her mouth. She gasps for air upon release, squeezing his thighs and pulling him closer to her this time. “Jerk me off,” he breathes. Still sputtering from near asphyxiation, she somehow hears his order, and her hand begins work while the other remains gripping his muscles. “That’s it … Make me cum in that whore mouth.”

She drops her tongue, still fighting for oxygen, a river of saliva sliding from her tongue to the head of his dick. He lets out a roar as one of the more intense orgasms he’s ever had explodes through his body, and he shoots rope after rope of cum onto the eagerly awaiting tongue. She lifts the muscle so as to catch as much as possible in her mouth, but he watches with a smile on his face as one tiny tributary dribbles down her chin.

“Show Papi,” he whispers. She drops her jaw proudly, moving her tongue this way and that to swish the salty cream around. His eyes zero in on this salacious act, and he scoops up the white stream from her chin, placing it in her mouth. Her lips clamp around the digit to suck it clean, and he pulls it out with yet another wicked pop. He takes her throat softly in his hand, his nose touching hers as he says, “Swallow.” His thumb rises and falls as his cum is deposited in her stomach, he hears the gulp, and his dick twitches.

“Gracias, Papi,” she sighs, eyes getting heavy. He imagines she’ll want some attention later on with regard to the absolute mess between her legs and, consequently, the leggings.

Damian grins, using the bottom of his t-shirt to clean up the mess on her face. “De nada, corazón.” They share one more kiss before she lays her head on his thigh, snoring softly within seconds. He caresses her cheekbone for a moment and brushes a few strands of sticky hair from her forehead. He tucks himself back inside his now damp sweatpants, picks up his phone, and resumes scrolling Twitter.

🎀 Mi dulce gatita quiere su leche - My sweet kitten wants her milk 🎀 Sí, mi vida - Yes, my life 🎀 Tómalo - Take it 🎀 Papi - Daddy 🎀 Gracias, Papi - Thank you, Daddy 🎀 De nada, corazón - You’re welcome, sweetheart

[moodymisty]

Just had a thought for a cute fic request. What if Lady Guilliman catches some nobles/inquisitors/clerics complaining about and insulting her husband behind his back, and just goes off on them. "How dare you! He's doing a fantastic job!" And what if Guilliman overhears his usually patient, even-tempered wife vehemently defending him? Just a sweet, supportive spouse moment. Because that man desperately needs it.

I know you're probably overwhelmed with requests right now, so I just want to encourage you to relax and take your time. No rush. We're grateful for whatever you give us, whenever you decide to give it.

Author’s note: Something short and sweet, and a bit funny XD

Relationship: Guilliman/Fem!Reader

Warnings: None really

You aren't entirely paying attention to the conversation at hand, drifting in and out of interest until there's a moment that catches you again.

"I just worry about his, lack of interest."

You can infer by the quieter tone- the way they emphasize he - that they're referring to Guilliman. It's then that you realize that while these deacons and pontifices know that you are under the banner of the Ultramarines for your duty, they do not know your close relation to Guilliman at all.

"He had the cherubs removed,"

Another deacon says, her voice a hushed whisper. Your eyes dart between them all to feign interest so they'll keep speaking grievances in your company.

"I heard from one of the priests that he doesn't even allow them to say the armoring rights when he dawns his armor!"

You will admit you found that odd, at first. Then over time Guilliman has explained to you the galaxy he came from wasn't like this, and you understand now that the vehement nature of the current Imperium's worship over the Emperor is not something he has wished for.

He would've hated this. This galaxy now spits on the ideas he created us for. This all would've disgusted him.

You wish you could understand what he meant, but, it's the Emperor. Even you struggle to think about him not being seen as a god.

"What is going to happen if we allow a man who borders the line of heresy like this to lead us?"

You clench your fists, and open your mouth to speak unable to hold your tongue any longer.

"Lord Guilliman?"

The primarch looks up at the Ultramarine who approaches. His face seems, apprehensive? He nods at the man to continue speaking.

"Your lady has gotten into a fight with some of the Ecclesiarchy's deacons. They have begun to issue accusations of heresy at her in return."

Guilliman finds himself walking towards the marine sooner than he'd expected. The surprise of this, let alone that you are involved- and possibly in no shortage of trouble - is not something that he had expected.

"Where is this happening?"

Guilliman had known you would probably come into contact with the deacons at some point, but a fight? He rushes behind the Ultramarine through the halls, and soon hears your voice.

"If you are so upset over his choices, how about you just tell him yourself!"

Guilliman steps into the room and sees you pointing down a pontifice, face twisted with anger. You are spouting insults, some of which he has never heard before; Though he's sure by the expressions of surprise and anger on each of the deacons and pontifices faces that they are not insults used by the faint of heart.

"You all seem quite eager to accuse him of heresy, but you do know you're accusing the Lord Regent, correct? What does that make you if you're wrong?"

The pontifice at your center attention purses his lips and recoils, as his own vehement faith is thrown back at him.

"I suggest you all shut your mouths and let the Primarch who walked beside The Emperor himself decide what is best for all of us."

The primarch stands back for a few moments longer than he thought he would, watching you. The way you have defended him so vehemently, most would simply allow them to spout their lies before skittering away; To avoid the hammer of a institution so powerful as the Ecclesiarchy.

While it is most important to prevent you from getting into trouble, he can't help but feel... Prideful. He is not used to being the one defended.

Guilliman approaches before anyone decides to escalate things any further. Once the deacons notice him they quickly shut up, and you turn to look up at him in surprise.

"My men told me you all had gotten into an argument," He looks down at you. "Your shouting has given me all the context I believe I need."

Your mouth stays firmly shut as Guilliman turns to the others, and you wonder what the consequences of your outburst will be.

"I suggest you all learn to keep your muckraking to yourself. Or bring it up with me, if you're so bold as to accuse me of heresy." Guilliman nods in the direction away from him.

"Leave."

They waste no time in doing so, not forgoing proper farewells before shuffling away with tails between their legs. Guilliman has had more than his fair share of issues with them as they skitter around the Macragge's Honour, so he's eager to shoo them back into their rat holes for a bit longer. Once gone, Guilliman turns to you.

"You, have an even bigger mouth than I thought."

You raise your eyebrows at him and try not to laugh; It takes Guilliman a second to understand why and his face warms and wrinkles.

"That is not what I meant."

He shakes his head and continues his earlier thought without your inappropriate interruption.

"You cannot be getting into such big fights with these men and women. They have significant power."

He takes a kneel, putting his hands to your jawline.

"I, appreciate you defending my honor. But I do not need it. Do not waste your effort on the likes of them." You smile and nod.

"I will try but, no promises."

Guilliman leans forward and kisses your forehead.

"In this modern day, that is good enough."

[luveline]

eddie idea for shy friday! reader who is into the same music as eddie & has a similar aesthetic but not the confidence that is associated with it, and maybe eddie takes the initiative to interact with her because she’s nervous to do so? :)

thank you for your request! eddie x shy!fem!reader ♡

Some metalheads are super loud and some aren't. Eddie knows guys who've been in the scene longer than he's been alive who barely talk about it. He doesn't really need you to be loud about what you love to get the message. 

For starters, you look fucking sick. Your hair, the makeup, toned down but undeniably influenced by all the greats, Joan and Chrissie and Kim Gordon. You dress in simple stuff like he does, though you usually swap dark jeans for skirts with pretty, shiny studs and tights with ladders climbing your thighs. He's been meaning to try his luck with you for ages, but he hadn't wanted to do it while you were working —he has a funny feeling that behind the bar is the last place you want to be asked out. 

It's his good fortune that he finds you in a record store in Indianapolis. He does a double take, thinking he's seeing some other pretty girl in black. It wouldn't be uncommon here. 

But there you are, sorting through classic rock records with a darling mildness about you. Unhurried, always so quiet. He kind of really loves that about you, the delicate way you move and the unassuming curve of your lips. 

He decides to just go for it. In and out. 

"Hey," he says, trying to be a normal guy. It comes out a teeny tiny bit too loud. "Fancy seeing you here. Are you looking for something?" 

Eddie's no master in girls but he understands body language pretty well, and feels guilty at the shift of your legs, one thigh pressed to another as you lean back. 

"Hey," you say, "um, no, I'm just looking around." 

"That's a good one," he says, nodding at the vinyl between your fingers, Sad Wings of Destiny. "I love Judas Priest." 

You put the record down, and he worries for a split second that you're gonna bolt out the door, and he's acting like a creep, but you grab the zip on your jacket and pull it down to your navel. 

You're wearing a Judas Priest t-shirt with a rip just under the soft valley of your chest. "Me too… You're Eddie." 

"I am," he says, a little surprised that you know him, but trying to be suave. "I guess I'm at The Hideout too much if you know me before I've introduced myself." 

"I–" You clasp your hands together against your stomach. "I've wanted to talk to you, tell you that I like the band… you remind me of Judas Priest, actually. You know, 'cause you and your second guitarist, you're a twin assault." 

His jaw drops dramatically. "Are you flirting with me?" 

It's the worst thing he could've said. You swallow, and he's about to take it back, make a joke about his huge mouth, but you smile gently. 

"Maybe," you say. "Is that… okay?" 

"Girl like you?" Eddie gives you his smoothest smile, his eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. "Beautiful, it's more than okay."

You bite your lip, turning your smile back to the bin of vinyls.

"Are you busy? Maybe you could help me find something specific?" he furthers. 

You don't look at him, but you nod. It's a great start. 

Eddie doesn't have a record in mind, so he names the most obscure one he can think of and feels it like a punch when your eyes light up in recognition. You find it quicker than he thinks you will, you know exactly where it'll be, and he scrambles to drag it out. He hasn't even started on what he wants to ask you, what you like doing outside of work, if you did your hair yourself, if you're free Friday night. 

"Uh," he says eloquently, "are you busy? You're a mastermind, and there's a couple of other LPs I wanna check out that I'm too dumb to find myself." 

And that's how Eddie spends 137 dollars in forty-five minutes. He learns your details through stacks and shelves, revelling in your shy answers, and how hard you laugh at his cheesy jokes. 

You wince as they ring him up in sympathy. He starts to regret his decisions, but you slow in front of the door and look at him through your lashes. 

"Did you wanna get coffee?" you ask. 

"Yes," he says immediately, his jaw aching in the effort it takes not to grin like a fool, until he remembers himself. "Or, I would. I don't think I can afford it." 

You smile gently. "My treat." 

He's so entranced, he forgets he's broke. 

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

What WOULD'VE happen if its the jofoes who saw a kid up skirting reader aka their darling?

I know they're villains and is very much cruel, but they wouldn't kill a child...right? (1-8, since the jofoes in P-9 haven't been revealed yet.)

Hmmm I could see a couple of instances of that happening, sadly (but I mean they are villains, but some are more restrained than others, perhaps more for image than anything)

Yandere! Part 1 (Pre Vampire) Dio - I could see this going with him yanking the brats hair and shoving them to the ground. It’s fairly easy for him to maintain his positive status to outsiders, so he could have something happen to them later (but I’d consider this the best outcome for that kid).

Yandere! Post Vampire Dio

Big chance this kid may die by being manipulated by Dio himself, he might decide to turn them/zombify them by apologizing and groveling (chance they could attack their own family). There’s also a chance the kid could just flat out be devoured by the other zombies, the blond wouldn’t even flinch at that. If he’s sorely out of patience he might kill/maim them himself, but it never would come to that. Keep in mind Dio was the type to turn a mother into a vampire and she ended up eating her own child.

Yandere! Kars

Absolutely no cares given about slaughtering a child, not even joking here. He only cares about you, not some slimy brat that decided to pull some nonsense on you. He’d probably lick you clean of the blood afterwards as well. No matter how mad or upset you got, would not make him anymore remorseful for the dead body strewn on the ground.

Yandere! Part 3 DIO

You’d more than likely be held captive in the mansion he’s in, within Egypt so this happening is unlikely. But in the unlikely event something like this happens, he’ll state how brazenly stupid such a move was. Unless he can use the kid in someway, he really doesn’t care what happens to them. So he might “punish” the kid as he sees it fit or have a stand user take care of them.

Yandere! Yoshikage Kira

As long as this kid didn’t see his rather “unusual” indulgences in the past, he doesn’t see a need to murder them right there, though I could see him consider it internally, where the kid wouldn’t be seen. He’s absolutely miffed however, and does grab their hand in a painful way though. Gives them the nastiest glare and reprimand there is, and the kid probably runs off heavily unsettled.

Yandere! Diavolo

Doppio is likely the one to take care of this of course, not that Diavolo he himself isn’t miffed. This probably just makes him consider to keep you locked away somewhere permanently. (This probably happens shortly after this little thing). Doppio makes sure to get it through this kids head, with the harshest grip known to man, that you don’t go doing that to anyone. Let alone anyone he or his boss likes.

Yandere! Enrico Pucci

His reaction is interesting, he is irritated perhaps even a bit visibly by this child’s behavior. He can’t let this kid get away with deciding to upskirt his darling either. He also is a priest image wise, so he has that to consider when punishing this adolescent person. He still has a firm grip on them and decides to take them aside and talk. He’ll face away from you while doing so, and moments later the kid is suddenly apologizing. You can’t tell if Pucci has an uncanny knack for speaking with people or if it’s something else. (It’s likely both).

Yandere! Funny Valentine

He’ll stop this kid almost immediately and there’s a sound of a smack to the back of the head. A stern look and a small speech about respect, Funny Valentine somehow manages to make the kid shame with those words. He wouldn’t let the kid run either and would personally escort them back home to their parents. As busy as he is as a president something childish like that won’t be overlooked by him. There’s a brief dark look in his eye, he can pull the strings to make things happen, he just doesn’t feel the need to expend them here. He does ask you to follow him closer for now on, (maybe an extra guard but he finds it more efficient to be the one to protect you)

Yandere! Toru

He certainly doesn’t appreciate it, and somehow they end up tripping or have some little mishap happen. Yet there’s a bit of a hum in his voice when he tells them he shouldn’t be doing such a thing to people. Any anger or frustration that gets thrown off at Toru, he nonchalantly brushes off. Suggesting the kid apologize, and nothing more will come of it. But there is a stern veiled threat in there somewhere that makes the kid decide to walk off.

[icarusredwings]

Bark like you want it

Pt 1

People were asking how the red collar works and I wanted to put in some tailed wolvie so here ya go.

Poolverinessa (mentions of NightWolves)

Finding home au (+tail au)

NSFW, a lot of pet play, ethical non monogamy (done properly), bratty logan, hand job, collared and leashed Logan, dommy mommy Ness

Being dropped off at the apartment, Logan waves goodbye to his priest friend, yawning a bit as he struggles to unlock the door with his keys. This is until he finds that it was unlocked already.

Coming through the door, he was a bit suprised to see them still awake. It was a little after 2 am and he was sure they'd be asleep by now.

Here, on the couch was Vanessa, her hair messy, only wearing panties and one of Wade's graphic tees. Wade himself had been smoking a cigarette with his arm around her, in nothing but some of Logan's pajama pants. Both of them had been watching some baking reality tv show and talking with various toys and bottles spread out over the coffee table and couch.

"Yeah he does this really cute thing where he-" Wade stops talking, turning to face the door with a big smile. "There's our big boy!! You have fun dicking down that priest?"

Vanessa snickers a little, sitting up to put her drink on a coaster. "Wait you didn't tell me about that."

Wade gasps, looking to her like gossiping with one of his besties, except she was the ultimate bestie. "Oh M Gee! I didn't? Okay so you know that blue guy from the Christmas party?"

She nods, about to get juicy news. "The one that was drunk and sitting on the counter while talking funny?"

"Yes! That's Kurt, he's like a german cat thing-"

Logan tilts his head, blinking with a soft frown of embaressment, scoffing. "He is not. He's got angel blood or.. somethin." He shrugs, putting his bag down and begining to unpack, putting his clothes in the laundry as he listened.

"Okay what ever, same thing, angel cat thing. Well he's a priest."

Vanessa gasps. "Loooaaggiee!"

"A Catholic one!!" Wade points out, putting his finger up in a 'matter of fact'ly type way.

"And Logan fucks him like once every two full moons or some spiritual ritual thing." He waves a hand, pulling her closer to his chest.

"Spiritual pussy cat."

"Hey, How I choose to cleanse my soul by confession is my choice and no ones buisness but god and I's." Logan smirks playfully.

Wade giggles. "Did Father Wagner tell you to say that?"

But he didn't awnser, just blushing more, storming off into the bathroom to shower.

"Oh, he so did." Vanessa smirks, Wade nodding in agreement. "A thousand percent."

Once Logan returns from the bathroom, Wade and Vanessa were still on the couch, except they were staring at him with a devlish look. Logan blinks, swallowing before crossing his bare chest with his hand as if trying to ward off their evilness. To make things worse, he had only put on his grey sweats, his tail hanging out the back as the pants dipped down to his hips. He had been planning on going to bed... guess not anymore.

"Oh boy...what do you two want?"

They glance at each other, smiles widdening. "Weeeeelllll.. we were hoping.." Vanessa started, shifting to scoot over to the otherside of the couch.

"You have any energy in the tank to play with us?" It's a simple question really. Wade even pats the seat between them, making it more clear what they wanted.

"It's okay if not." V states.

"Yeah, we know you're old and can't hang with us cool young people." Wade mutters, looking at his nails all bitchy.

Logan gives a playful scowl, though the face changed to thinking when the playfulness in his eyes lit up, telling Logan that he was excited just from the single glare alone. His tail began to wag, just the smallest of wiggles.

"That depends what you had in mind." He states, leaning against the hallway wall.

"We were thinkin maybe you could wear your red collar?" Vanessa asks.

"Yeah? And what else?"

"Fuck us? Duh." Wade mutters, now holding his arms out, doing grabby hands.

"Now come're and give me kisses! The contract says I get them when ever I want!"

Logan scoffs, shaking his head softly with a grin. Ah yes. The contract. Aka their marriage certificate tht hung proudly in a cracked frame above the wall of Polaroids that Wade took of all their friends and them, their family and of themselves. The ones with Vanessa were still up there too, many of Morph, Kurt, Laura, Puppins, Al, and several of parties over the years. Ones of their wedding surrounded the certificate, reminding them daily about how loved each of them were.

"I don't knoowwww. Are you gonna give a dog a bone or is this a good doggy, no bone situation?" Logan asks, finally coming to sit between them, leaning over to let Wade hold his cheeks, kissing him lovingly. I mean, this is his husband afterall.

"You want a metaphotical bone or?" Wade asks, pulling away with a happy smirk. "Mmh. You taste like wine."

"The older the better." V interjects, Making Wade laugh. "You know, I say that all the time and constantly he tells me-"

"I'm not fine wine, I'm barrel whiskey."

"Yeah that."

Logan thinks for a moment. "You know.. I wouldn't mind a steak."

"D'awww my big boy wants a steak? How big?"

He squeezes himself under his arm, laying on his chest, hand going down his abdomen to rub his stomach.

Vanessa soon follows suit, but instead scratched his beard and his chin. "You gotta be a good boy though, Lolo. Or no steak for youu." She teases.

Laying his head back, his arms wrapped around the both of them, already feeling himself slip into that headspace. Man.. he might not have the need for a refractory period but attacking him with such soft kisses and sweet touches when he just came home from something similar was plan cruel.

If he wished to complain, he'd say things like "I'm too old for this" and "I just got my soul washed of its sins and here you are."

But Logan didn't complain. He couldn't, really. It was a nice suprised to return too, the warm hands touching him in a way that made his heart burst with fire and affection.

Wade's hand slips inside of his sweats, palming his hand at the already reoccuring bulge only to smirk. "No undies? Oh you nasty dog you."

His grip tightens around them both, trying to focus on his breathing while Vanessa tries to mark up and down his jaw and neck, holding him so delicately between her fingers.

"Shit... go get my collar." He mumbles, feeling Wade pull away. "Yaaayy!! Okay!-Oh. And V, That's my husband. Hands above the belt miss ma'am. I'm watching you." It may have seemed like a warning but the wink he gave her made Logan nervous and blushy. He had been stuck in the middle of their own sick little games.

"You aint gotta worry about little ol me." She coes, batting her lashes, but the moment Wade wallks away, she runs her hand down to his thigh, sitting up on her knees with a grin.

"Can I touch you?" It's a soft ask, a whisper into his ear with a look that makes him laugh, snorting a bit. "Sure."

Ridiculous. Not even seconds. God they would be the death of him.

"Ssooo, How'd it go?" She asks, putting a hand on his shoulder, the other dipping under the metaphotical belt, giving a little squeeze.

"Eh.. it was f-Fine."

"Just fine?" She tsked.

"I-i meant great. Yeah.. great."

"Tell me about it." She says, leaning her chin on his shoulder, litsening to each breath as if it would be his last.

Logan swallows. "I.. it was fun."

"Oh? Was it now?"

"Mmmhm" It's a low whine of agreement, looking at the hall waiting for Wade to return with his collar.

"Use your words, Logan." She whispers into his ear, liking the little moments in which he could embaress him all she pleased in such a serious tone. She wanted him to tell him all the little details that he enjoyed so much, why he came home at 2 am, and if this Kurt charater had taken proper care of him.

"Did he kiss you? Yeah? How much? Ooh that's quite a bit. Did he hold you?"

The quiet, flustard mutters of agreement and small one word awnsers was all he had to give her at the moment as her acrylics dragged up his tip.

"Yes." He spits out, Like he would forget how to speak entirely if he didn't.

"Oh? Good. Did he feed you your dog chow? Hm? Were you a good boy for him?" The more she asks, the more he vividly remembers, blushing deeply as he tries not to buck into her hand.

Vanessa was one of those people that could fold him so quickly, he understood perfectly why Wade loved her so much. It was easy to become intoxicated by the teasing, her soft voice and how well she handled you. It was never the same, a different treatment for different people. She would pet Logan for hours if he let her, slowly stroking and forcing him to cough up words until he snapped.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"H-he fed me." He mutters, putting his head back as Vanessa squeezed again, getting him ready to play. They would do this. Take turns getting him all hot and hard. And it's not like he minded, but Ness did squeeze a bit hard at times.. he kinda liked it. God he was a fucking weirdo.

She let him catch his breath, humming innocently as she waited for him to talk. "He-.. w-We had wine and... Oh, god.."

"Annnd?" She kisses his cheek, a bittersweet apology.

"And veggie burgers...h-he can't eat meat on fridays.."

"That's ironic." She giggles, making him blush more. "Shut up.. that's what Wade says.."

"Mmmh. What else?"

"Cheese.. and bread. He's so weird about fuckin bread."

He had just got done playing with a Catholic Priest and now here he was, getting teased by his husband's fiance. What a weird world this was.

But Logan would gnaw off his own leg then go back to his universe. Where everyone hated him and he hadn't got any tail in a little over a decade. Even then, it was a prostitute. Made him pay for the bed sheets too. Didn't even let him stay the night. It felt terrible.

Funny how things went, huh? Now here, a retired prostitute and possible one of the most legendary strippers of all time was on his smelly and broken pull out couch, scratching his foreskin and trying to pop his balls. Literally. If she was any rougher he'd have to shove her away, but it was perfect. Everything she could possibly do to him was hand crafted and fit to his liking.

The club had no idea what they lost when Vanessa quit and got that desk job instead. They were so proud of her. Insanely proud. Wade was proud of her for just existing though at this point, always so excited to see her, bringing her flowers and non stop talking about how nice her apartment was and joking about how he might ditch this place and move in with her, only for V to tell him that he'd wreck the place within a week. (This, of course was probably true)

Giggling, she smiles. "Yeah? I heard Germans are pretty serious about their bread."

"They are! He won't let me even eat bread if theres not grains in it and shit."

"Oh yeah? How's he on sausage?" She coes, hand wrapping around to pump a few times before pulling away, licking her fingers. This was how their little games went. The moment he bucked, she'd stop. Real bitch of a game, that's for sure..

A soft grunt comes from him as he shakes his head, shifting to spread his legs a bit more.

"You.. are nasty."

"Says the one who eats an ass full of cancer." She purrs, giving him another kiss. "Im glad he makes you happy, Logan."

Closing his eyes for the quick smooch, he hums, hearing the click of their bedroom door. "Wade would kill him if not."

Vanessa's eyes do a thing that said 'Yeahhh he does that' as if she herself has had the experience of being gifted pictures of a dead ex or a toxic client who wouldn't stop harrassing her.

Wade was just about as sweet as a paring knife. At first you think he can't do much damage, bringing you freshly, juicy cut figs and peaches, pears. Obviously. But he could just as quickly stab you in the juggular and lick the knife clean of your blood while you gush out into the floor and the last thing you see as your vision blurs is him giggling hysterically and a flash of a throw away camrea.

Just as Wade came back in he grins. "Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me, honey?"

"Hm, let me check." He says, sarcastically pulling the elastic band up, looking at it then turned to Ness. "Definitely not a banana." She tells him.

"Ooh let me see!" Rushing oved he plops down on the couch next to him, looking too. "I'm no doctor but.. thats definitely not a banana."

The three laugh and giggle as Logan tilts his head up, letting Wade clip the red kink collar onto him. "There."

"Bad dog?" Vanessa asks, reading the tag of the collar. "Ooh, You're not a bad dog, are you?"

"Oh, yes he is. He has a humping problem." Wade says, shifting to turn his face towards him, kissing him deeply after spitting on his hand, slipping it back to where it already once was. Slowly, he pulls every few moments, working up the speed as things drawn on. He wanted him ready. Logan was already hard as a rock but he wanted to give him a bit of a tease too.

It was only fair.

Groaning into his mouth, his arms go back around them both, making a whine when Vanessa pulls his D ring away, to face her instead, her hand rubbing over his chest a way she knew drove him crazy. "No, he's not. He's a good boy. Ain'tcha, puppy? You want mommy to fuck you senseless? Hm?" She pulls away inbetween kisses to whisper such things, lips hovering as she teases him further, groping his chest some.

Whimpering, Logan's breath hitches, trying hard not to buck into his husband's hand, but can't hold much longer. His tail, stuffed into the cushion of the couch wiggles on its own when Wade jerks his collar back the other way, stealing him mid kiss. It makes Ness give him a playful glare, only to smirk in competition. She enjoyed it greatly. Wade knew this.

"You're a bad boy, aren't you? Just a stupid mutt, huh? Ooh, but it's not your fault, Noo you're just a puppy huh? You wanna be a good boy but you can't. It's not your fault you're feral, oh no its not. Some meanie men made you this way, didn't they? Made you wanna be bad and bite, huh?" Half way through, he had switched to baby talk, a gushy, mushy sound of tone that made Logan's tail wag more, gritting his teeth, nodding or shaking his head to corespond with what ever he was saying.

Fuck- he couldn't do this. He couldn't hold on.

Bucking his hips, Logan gasps, hands trying to come to hold Wade's hand here, to fuck into it like a toy, but V jerks his collar back towards her.

"Ah ah! Leave it!" She says, harsh and quick like she would if Puppins was trying to eat one of Wade's non toxic body safe pink dildos.

And of course he listens. How could he not? The sharp tone and her eyes, cat eyes that he should be terrified of, but he's not. Oh they're so gorgeous. So dangerous. V could tell him to get off the couch and go drink out of puppins water bowl and he probably would. As long as he got his bone.

His tail stops wagging behind him as he lets go of Wade's hand.

"Off. No bad dogs on the couch!" She scolds him. Within a second he's on his floor, hands and knees as he sits here, the outline of his hardness more hidden but clearly more worked up.

"You too. Off."

Without a question, Wade is not on the floor too, wiggling with excitment. Coming to put his hands up on the couch, he pants for her in a way that even embaresses Logan. It's hot. Really, it is but Wade was always too quick to humiliate himself for her.

Her hand comes to his head, petting him. "Good boy. Lay down." And so he does, laying down and even began to nudge at her feet. Vanessa smirks a bit. "Roll over."

Again, not even a second later he was on his back, hands up and knees bent to where his feet touched the floor.

"Good booyy~" she coes, letting her foot cassually rub against his stomach and then lower, grazing at the lump in his fluffy flannel pj pants.

Logan watches as this all happens, perhaps in just seconds. He's unsure. What he is sure about though is how embaressed he was for his husband, hearing him groan at the socked touches. He blinks a bit, looking up to Vanessa with a type of fear in her eyes that only lights a fire in her.

Tossing him a couch pillow, she smiles, innocent but all teeth, her eyes dark with sadistic pleasure. "Logan. Be a good boy. Hump it."

Swallowing, he looks at the pillow and then to her. "W-what?"

"I said, Fuck that pillow. Show mommy what you're gonna do to her."

"Oh, Ness, that's just cruel." The dog on his back says, only to be kicked lightly.

"Quiet! Dog's don't talk."

Staring at the pillow, Logan whines at her, his face beat red as he slowly pulls the pillow close, putting it in position before glancing up at her to see if this is what she wanted.

"Good boooy." Its a sing songy voice that makes him give her a guilty smile, tail wiggling from the praise. "Now fuck it. Just like how you would, Wade. Come on. Show mommy whatna good boy you are and maybe ill let you have some ass." She says, pulling Wade up by his own collar, turning him around, tugging down the pants and slapped his ass. Wade yipped a little from both arousal and surprise. This was the fun bit about letting Vanessa take charge. He shut off his brain, letting her do what ever she pleased with him.

Blushing more, Logan is hesitant, eyes flickering from Wade's now wiggly ass to the pillow. Closing his eyes, he tries not to think about it being embaressing, rather as behaving. Being a good boy for her. That seemed to be the agenda for tonight.

Though... He had other plans.

Taking the pillow into his mouth, he shook it, growling and then spit it out, giving a defiant look. One that said 'make me'. One that Ness knew well and was quite fond of. Her brow raised.

"Logan. You will obey me. Now fetch." She points to the pillow across the room, her foot stopping on Wade as he rolls back over, sitting up as he watches the tension build between them, internally squealing. Oooh, this would be fun to watch. Things were about to get good.

Lowering his head to her, He snarls.

"Oh, Don't you dare-"

Deliberately he sits down, hard, not fetching at all. Instead he lays down with a pout, turning his head to ignore her.

"So that's how it's going to be.. Wade. Fetch." She tells him, standing as Wade quickly crawls over, taking the pillow into his mouth and brought it back to Logan. Dropping it next to him, he's quick to try to lick Logan's face, giggling a bit. Blushing, His tail wags, but hes trying to keep his bad dog persona up, sitting up, snapping at him.

Just before he could land a bite on Wade, Vanessa leashes him, jerking him away from Wade, who was honestly a little disappointed. He liked being bit, esspecially when Logan was putting on his "bad boy" front.

Girls didn't take the bad boys home.

But Wade did. Infact he prefered them.

And maybe it was just the wrong girls, cause Vanessa would definitely adopt this doggy. Besides, he needed trained.

Leaning down, face level to him, Logan snarls at her but she dosn't budge.

"You'll learn to behave. Whether you like it or not. Cause if theres one thing I know, You can't break this bitch. Now sit."

[herefortheships]

Y'know, ooth of "the marriage contract counted as a marriage after getting signed"... Betelgeuse never signed it, did he?

Like, yeah, if they BOTH had signed it back then, that would have been a marriage, and said marriage would have been voided shortly afterwards by Code 699.

But maybe the reason why the contract didn't immediately burn up and why they couldn't banish Betelguise was bc that part of the contract stood on its own just with her signature, bc without his signature, the contract wasn't a marriage yet but was a promise that she or the younger Deetz wouldn't banish him + whatever the fine print said (which was likely about other means to get rid of him).

Or the contract hadn't been in effect at all yet and he just used his powers to steal Astrid's voice, idk.

So like, there's another out he gave her. He could have made the contract about a promise of marriage. He could have signed the marriage contract right after Astrid got rescued. He could have cut the MacArthur Park thing a little shorter. And he could have signed it after Astrid pointed out the loophole and gone "Nope, we weren't married yet. [signs] But now we are!"

But he doesn't actually want to force Lydia into marriage (anymore). So, I think what with his intended looking less than enthused while he lip-synced his feelings out, and his not-yet stepdaughter not being all that on board with the marriage (even though B had prevented Rory becoming her step-dad. Ungrateful youth) I think he just burned that contract himself. And then put on a show ballooning up dramatically at the first mention of his name, so Lydia could feel like she vanquished him. Which, like, if you are an immensely powerful ghost courting a living and rather anxious human woman, it's probably a good strategy to make her feel in control.

I love the thought of this, and I agree. It would make sense if he was the one who burned the contract himself, considering it never did until Astrid mentioned it; I hadn't considered that. He was never going to force her this time; he definitely hoped she would fulfill her end of the deal and marry him, but he wasn't going to forcer to do it if she didn't want to in the end. There's just too much evidence for it, considering he had such a lengthy wedding dance, instead of just quickly getting the priest to pronounce them man and wife like he did in the first movie.

I think during the events of the sequel he may have learned that the way to Lydia's heart is to take it easy. He was coming on too strong (it would be funny if he is still coming on too strong in movie three, though lol, even while thinking he isn't, that'd be hilarious), and instead of showing her his intentions, the way he acted just pushed her away even more. Lydia and Delia even locked the attic. Lucky for him, Lydia ended up needing him later (and Delia needed him, too. lol).

The first time seeing her face to face, the first thing he did was to illusorily get her pregnant 😅, and then he was totally going to pull her to him and kiss her, so he was kinda showing her his (totally wild lol) sexual interest right from the get go.

Next time he sees her, though, instead of grabbing her and being a savage, he lets her take the lead after she summons him. She's the one who brings up the marriage deal, as well. So hopefully he learned the way into her heart is not to force himself on her, but to give her space (though it's Betelgeuse, I bet it's taking a lot of restraint to keep himself still around her lol). Now he has made his intentions clear and shown he can be helpful not only to Lydia, but to her family as well (and told her daughter she can call him dad. Hey, I know it was because she couldn't call him by his name, but it's just sweet to me that he's cool with Astrid calling him dad. It was one of my favorite things, ngl).

I'm totally writing a lot just to say that I agree with all of this. Betelgeuse always left her a gap to get out of the contract. Hopefully next time she will say "I do" and it will all be her choice. My fingers are crossed for the third movie. As Tim Burton himself said "it's Beetlejuice, there's always gotta be a wedding" (paraphrasing here; this was in the bts extras for BJBJ), so for SURE we will have the wedding with the happy ending in the end, no doubt. ✨Manifesting 😌✨.

[deadbydangit]

hi! i would like to request a prompt.

how do you think the killers would react to a survivor!reader who screams extremely loud when injured?

I think I can do that. I'm sorry this one is a little shorter. I had a hard time coming up with ideas. Please enjoy.

With a Reader who is very loud when injured: Ghostface, Trickster, Pinhead

Ghostface

Danny actually enjoys watching people get hurt.

To an almost unhealthy level.

Like, seeing people fall down and get mildly hurt?

To him, that's hilarious.

But he takes it several steps further.

He's the guy laughing at horror movies when people are getting stabbed to death.

"Ha! It's funny cause they were stupid."

He'll say some dumb frat boy shit like that.

He really enjoys the sound of people screaming in pain.

The louder the scream, the funnier it is.

He finds a sick sense of humor in it.

You can ask him why, but he'll give you the same answer every time.

"Uh, because it's funny."

He's kind of an asshole.

But you?

"Okay, babe, I know I said I like the sound of people and pain and screaming at all but, like, chill. Okay?"

"Seriously, there's loud. And then there's you."

"I came out to have fun and kill, and now I can't hear shit."

But, he uses your scream as an excuse.

He won't ever go after you.

And if you ask why?

"Your scream is like, torture. I'll take my chances with the Entity."

Well, he isn't exactly lying. So you can't get mad at him.

He calls that a win-win situation.

Trickster

The sound of screams?

Music to his ears.

If you thought Danny had a sick obsession with screams and people's pain, you haven't seen anything yet.

Ji-Woon lives for the sound of people in pain.

So much so that he uses it to create music.

"The last sound a human ever makes? It's a beautiful sound isn't it?"

He gets way too excited about it.

Your screams?

He'd rather listen to nails on a chalkboard.

You'll always catch him covering his ears when you scream.

Unlike danny, he'll still hunt you in a trial if you're in one together.

But, he won't record your screens for his music.

Don't take offense to it though.

He'll make sure to show you and tell you all the other ways you're special to him.

So what if you don't have pretty sounding screams?

You have so many more great qualities to you.

And, if you ever feel humiliated about not sounding pretty enough for him, he'll list all the other reasons why he loves you.

If you feel left out because you aren't in any of his songs, he'll find a way to include you.

Just, you know, not your atrocious screams.

Pinhead

You know what they say.

Pain is pleasure.

That's kind of his whole thing.

Elliot loves the sound of your screams.

He loves the sound of all screams.

As long as they are screams of pain, he's happy.

In fact, he seems to like yours more since they convey more emotion.

The more agony and suffering in the person, the more he enjoys the sound.

It's only to be expected of Hell's high priest.

Now, just because he likes the sound of your screams, doesn't mean he's going to go out of his way to attack you during a trial.

You'll be given a fair chance just like everyone else.

And, if he happens upon you, then it's up to skill after that.

He finds himself very fascinated by her screaming.

He didn't think a normal human could scream that loud.

Or that intensely.

He would love to experiment on it more.

However, he will refrain from causing you unnecessary pain.

Even though he likes the sound of your pain. He knows you don't like it.

And he loves you enough to respect those boundaries.

Even when you're screaming at the top of your lungs and pain, he'll hold his laughter back.

He wouldn't do that for anyone else.

It's a bizarre way of showing affection.

But, hey, it's a start.

[t00thpasteface]

i very deeply respect your mashposting and even though im not as enthusiastic about hawkahy as you are i think the content you make for them us delightful and some of the best mashposting on this godforsaken website. that being said, i wanted to know ur takes on the hawkeye & trapper dynamic, and the hawkeye & bj dynamic. Not in a shippy way, just in the World of Hawkahy what role do trapper and bj play in their relationships with hawkeye :3 this because i love that one comic u did where hawkeye is spunchbop and bj is Patrick its one of my fave pieces of mash fanart lol

(⁠๑˘❥⁠⁠ ˘๑⁠) first off, THANK YOU!! i'm soooo crazy about hawkahy and i really enjoy contributing to my fellow shippers, but i'm glad my art can also still appeal to people who are less interested the ship itself.

second, VERY fun question!! i wish i had definitive answers for yall, but you know me... i love to go "well idk it could go either way" ^_^;; really, it depends on what kind of tone and theme i'm looking for. i don't really write heavier stuff (because i have so much fun writing funny fic) so that kind of narrows my options, but there's a lot of potential i'd love to explore— or see someone else explore, if they're so inclined!

TRAP:

generally the trapper reading i typically default to is that he and hawkeye have a pretty casual FWB thing going on. trapper considers hawkeye a very close friend and hooks up with him at an intersection of bicuriosity and deep platonic affection, but hawkeye catches baddddd feelings and ends up genuinely heartbroken to find out their thing was lopsided. in this case, hawkahy would happen only after trapper leaves— mulcahy has a tough time trying to get noticed before that point :( but at the same time, i don't think mulcahy would pounce at the first opportunity, because i don't think an immediate rebound would be good for hawkeye nor mulcahy... but it could happen for dramaaaaa...

another version of the hawkeye-trapper rapport that i love playing with in my fics is trapper being generally very supportive but nonetheless slightly grossed out. i think there's a lotttt of comedy potential with hawkeye thinking it's okay to fuck a priest but NOT a married woman, and meanwhile trapper is pro-infidelity but anti-priestfucking (for whatever reason), and they squabble and tease each other about it the whole time.

it's also funny to think about is trapper trying to figure out whether mulcahy now gets the "one of the bros" back-slapping beer-chugging dude treatment, or if instead he's now slotted into the "go easy on 'em trap" category that protects hawkeye's ladyfriends from hearing trapper's bawdiest jokes and comments when hawkeye brings them along as a plus-one to the swamp.

trapper seems like he's pretty likely to sniff out that hawkeye and mulcahy are seeing each other even if they try their damnedest to keep it secret. i like to think hawkeye trusts trapper enough that he would go ahead and divulge it it up front pretty soon after it's official. trapper could probably even pick up hawkeye's crush beforehand... maybe even before hawkeye knows about it!

i don't see trapper as being too jealous of hawkeye spending a lot of time with mulcahy, even if it means hawkeye is now exclusive and not sleeping with trapper anymore. if anything i think he'd be pretty stoked that he's got one less guy to compete with for the nurses' attention. pretty sweet deal as far as he's concerned.

i do think there'd be some tricky navigating between how hawkeye acts with trapper and the STARK difference with how he acts around mulcahy, which you can see clear as day in the s1 finale, where hawkeye gets soooo soft and careful while talking to mulcahy. i don't think either one is disingenuous; i think hawkeye contains multitudes. hawkeye's not the type to fake sincerity. and to that end, i really don't think hawkahy should hinge on hawkeye totally giving up all the cruder parts of his personality (especially since mulcahy is really no saint either), so it could be pretty interesting to see that manifest in whether/how he's still maintaining a close friendship with trapper now that he's been seeing mulcahy regularly and trying to make a good impression.

BEEJ:

the direction bj goes in depends on whether hawkahy are already an item before he gets there. he does form that almost instantaneous trauma-bond with hawkeye on his first day, but i think if hawkeye admitted "yeah by the way the chaplain is my boyfriend" as soon it seemed safe, bj would be able to take it in stride as another weird little quirk of the mash he has to get used to. he's too hung up on dealing with all the gore to worry about who's banging who.

by contrast, i think he could potentially get pretty upset/jealous if hawkeye and mulcahy paired up a little while later. i can see him feeling really betrayed, like, "what do you normally do when i'm gone?" "wait for you to get back!!"

if bj still doesn't feel like he's really enmeshed himself into the unit— which i think on some level, he never wants to, because he's banking on dropping everything like a hot potato the second he can— then i can totally picture him just feeling completely lost and isolated when hawkeye is suddenly forgoing their boys-nite boozathons in favor of getting some priest pipe. like, at least trapper could always go find his own cuddle buddy to pass the time and had nurses lining up to volunteer; bj has basically nobody and doesn't seem inclined nor equipped to fix that. hawkeye is his liason to the rest of the camp, and bj isn't so great with people without having hawkeye there to help as both teleprompter and safety net.

basically i think bj wants to keep hawkeye within a very specific arm's-length radius— not too close, but not too far either, and hawkeye having so much private time with someone else could really get under his skin.

you could also have bj think the priestfucking is gross/bad on sheer principle like trapper did, even without the jealousy angle, and it'd probably hold a little more water coming from bj than trapper. however, it'd be funny if he's insisting it's definitely not a jealousy thing and he's being fully objective about it, but you can totally tell he's just jealous. x)

i admit i kinda love seeing bj get tormented, because he's got such obvious buttons to press and yet sternly insists that they don't even exist, similar to houlihan and frank. like, you can't just set that up and not expect me to rub my hands together and SLAM those buttons as hard as i can. ergo, bj getting jealous about hawkahy is supremely funny to me. i'm not too proud to admit that!

[wysteriaisapenguin]

The voices in your head are like birds of a feather~

I just really wanted to create my own designs for the voices. Down below will be some rambles about the design choices I made for each of them!

Hero is a European Robin. He is a simple guy so I thought making him a simple little songbird would be fitting. He is the knight in shining armor who just wants to do the right thing.

Contrarian is a Royal Penguin. Since he's a funny fella, I wanted to make him as a fun kind of bird (I'm just biased towards penguins) I also like how he's often portrayed as a jester, so I did just that. (Wow penguins AND clowns? That's two of my favorite things!)

Skeptic is an Owl. I know this is kind of obvious since owls represent wisdom and he’s a pretty smart voice. Not much to say about him design wise, he just has an academic look.

Smitten is a Swan. Another obvious choice since swans are known as symbols of love but can be violent if provoked. This is fitting for Smitten's view on love and emotion, to the point that he will become emotionally unstable if he is upset. I absolutely love the flamboyant bard/poet look most people give him, so I had to give him just that! Swans are graceful birds after all~

Paranoid is a Canary. I see that this is a common choice for her because apparently, canaries were used as warning signals in coal mines during the 20th century. Since Paranoid is quick to sense danger and alert everyone around her, I can see why this is a fitting choice. She is a nurse who wears an old nurse cape, which is also from the 20th century, whenever she heads outside so she can feel safe. (This idea was inspired by @pike-s !)

Cold is a Vulture. Again, this was obvious since vultures are symbols of death and he's very complacent with it, whether it involves others or himself. He is an assassin who is skilled at what he does and prefers to keep his emotions hidden, hence he hides behind a hood.

Broken is a Dove. This bird is known to be a religious symbol and their route definitely has a lot of religious undertones. (Though doves mostly represent salvation and purity, and Broken isn't quite any of those…) They are a devoted priest and the smallest out of the voices.

Stubborn is a Cassowary. This beast of a bird is all about VIOLENCE, so it makes a lot of sense that this a common choice for Stubborn. He’s the biggest and strongest out of the voices and I wanted to give him a feathery cape that resembles the black feathers of a cassowary.

Hunted is a Swift. This bird is known to be very fast and is always seen flying; it is so restless that it never lands on the ground. This fits with Hunted's insistence to stay on guard in order to survive. It wears a mask that resembles the Long Quiet.

Opportunist is a Magpie. This bird is known to bring either bad luck or good luck, depending on the culture, so I guess this might fit with how Opportunist often switch sides that are advantageous to him. Plus magpies are associated with witchcraft, which is fitting for his relationship with the Witch. I think he would rock in fancy suspenders~

Cheated is a Pheasant. This is a game bird that is often targeted by predators and hunters. They are also known to be very hostile, which fits with Cheated's bad temper. She is a gambler who treats life like a game and knows that all the odds are against her. And boy is she mad about that!

[grassbreads]

What Tai Sui is and Why Everyone Should Read It

So if you follow me, over the past couple weeks, you've probably noticed me obsessively screenshotting and posting about a book called Tai Sui. And now that I've finished it, I'd like to try and convince y'all to give it a chance.

What Is Tai Sui?

Tai Sui is a chinese web novel—a relatively unpopular work by the very popular author Priest (author of Guardian and Sha Po Lang, among others). Unlike a lot of the most popular web novels on tumblr, it's not a danmei. It's in fact rather important to the plot and themes that there is almost entirely no romance, but I promise you, it is absolutely worth it regardless.

What is Tai Sui About?

Tai Sui is a steampunk xianxia cultivation story. For those unfamiliar with xianxia and cultivation, this is a particular genre of Chinese historical fantasy.

The official summary of Tai Sui reads as follows:

“If I had a choice, I would only want to be a little insect in the mundane dust, born in confusion, dying in mediocrity, never seeing the light of day beneath the fog of Jinping City.

Better than taking this wrong road to heaven.”

You may have noticed that this summary is not in fact really a summary. It gives you a glimpse into the story's themes, mood, and destination, but it doesn't exactly tell you what happens in it.

That's because Tai Sui is one of those works that's incredibly hard to summarize. The story is incredibly wide in scope and changes massively over its course, to the point that any summary that encapsulates the whole thing is going to feel like a spoiler. However, I can try my best to add a little detail without giving too much away.

Tai Sui is the story of Xi Ping—an obnoxious, trouble-making rich boy with no interest in cultivation—who gets unwittingly involved in a plot to resurrect the "evil god" Tai Sui. This plot pulls him into the cultivation world against his will and, over time, threatens to rewrite everything he is.

Tai Sui is the end of immortality.

Why Should You Read Tai Sui?

Tai Sui is one of the most compelling stories I have ever read. It is a love letter to the power and promise of the whole world and its many mundane people. It also has some of the best worldbuilding I have ever seen.

Tai Sui is written in omniscient perspective, and though Xi Ping is very much the main character, as the story progresses, we spend more and more time alongside characters that aren't him. By the time the novel ends, his entire continent is at stake, and we the audience know that continent and its troubles inside and out from countless angles. Everyone from the immortal demigods of the cultivation world to the most wretched, miserable paupers is given a grand sense of emphasis.

Tai Sui is a deconstruction of the cultivation genre. It establishes a magic/cultivation system and its history, lets the main character live in that system for a while, and then dives deep into that system's depths. It looks at the cultivation genre, at the idea of people who leave behind their status as mortals for greater things, and asks "How does this really work?" and "Is this how the world should be?"

Tai Sui is the story of countless people who were never supposed to be powerful coming together to make the world a better place. It's well written (and very well translated), exciting, heartbreaking, and incredibly beautiful. It's also funny as hell.

I cannot recommend this story enough.

Warnings/Caveats

As I said before, Tai Sui is a deconstruction of the cultivation genre. If you're unfamiliar with this genre, while the book is certainly readable, you are going to be thrown head first into the deep end with the tropes and terminology at play. It's absolutely worth the learning curve, but it will be kind of a lot. Maybe do some light googling about what a cultivator is before you pick it up. (Or just ask a fan. I think most of us would happily explain anything that would win a new reader).

There are portrayals of people/cultures in Tai Sui that are heavily inspired by minority cultures in real-world China, and some of these portrayals play into pretty harmful stereotypes. It's not SPL "Barbarian" or TGCF Banyue levels of racist, but it's something to be aware of and careful about. I'd really recommend reading from the perspectives of those from the cultures in question (including but not limited to the post I linked) for more about the issues I'm talking about.

Tai Sui's English translation is 930,000 words long. I believe this is a strength, since its length is what allows it such an incredible scope. It is also a fucking daunting commitment, and I acknowledge that.

Finally, while Tai Sui doesn't need too many trigger warnings, it does contain some pretty viscerally upsetting depictions of inequality and mistreatment, as well as a few instances of violence toward children. You can't uplift without first seeing what the people need uplifting from, and hooboy. They need it.

There's also some scenes that are technically rather violent, but the goriness is not presented as gore, if that makes sense. It never feels intensely or overly violent in the way some fantasy novels do.

Links

If all my gushing and propagandizing has convinced you to give it a try, you can find the original Chinese version (where you can buy chapters to support the author) on JJWXC.

The complete English translation is free on the website of E. Danglars, who does a truly incredible job with the translating.

Happy reading :).

[teecupangel]

Catboy nonny once again, considering something. So, the ancient Egyptians revered cats. Sooooo Bayek meets catboy!desmond?

It would be funny if Bayek thought he was a messenger of Bastet when they first met then, when he realized that Desmond is actually a man, he wondered if he was a messenger of Maahas or even Maahas’ son with a human mother.

Desmond is just like “???” because his only ‘information’ about Egyptian Gods are like… almost nonexistent? He knows Anubis because of The Mummy Returns.

… That’s it.

So he has no idea who the gods Bayek is talking about are but he does know that cats are really, like, important to Egyptian culture so he just rolls with it.

Whenever Bayek asks if he’s a son or a messenger of this god or another, he just shrugs.

When Bayek asks what he means by that, Desmond tries to make him believe that he has amnesia (which is hard to do via charades as far as Desmond was concerned)

And Bayek, being the kind and helpful medjay that he is (and also being a devout believer of the gods and an over all nice guy as long as one is not connected to the death of his son), tries to help him ‘recover’ his memories.

So, in this one, Bayek doesn’t take Desmond as a ‘pet’. He treats Desmond like a priest of one of the feline gods (no idea who though) that has lost his memories. Sometimes, Desmond feels a bit awkward with how much respect Bayek gives to him because he’s not used to it but he appreciate it though.

Desmond would join Bayek in his travels, more as a companion than anything, with the idea being Desmond might remember something if they visit other locations connected to the gods with feline characteristics.

They hide Desmond’s ears by wrapping a piece of fabric around his head because they don’t want people to question him or, worse, try to kidnap him or something.

[boytumms]

Okay don't mind me, I've just been reading too much about various sorts of mythology stuff and... old myths genuinely have a lot more weird pregnancy things than you'd expect (I still find the fact that Odin's eight-legged horse in Norse mytholohy is the son of Loki - whom Loki was pregnant wirh anf gave birth to, mind - way too funny, although that's completely beside the point), so... this isn't inspired directly by a specific myth, but reading random mythology stuff is kinda what put this into my mind

Anyway, I've been thinking of a boy who somehow manages to royally piss off a fertility god. Perhaps he defiles their shrine, or steal some sacred item or mess with their priest - or maybe him just refuses to do something the god wants him to do. And because gods are so well-known for never being spiteful and always giving proportionate and reasonable punishments (extreme sarcasm), the god curses the boy to become pregnant, but unable to give birth unless some extremely specific conditions are met. Maybe he can only give birth at one specific location, or has to eat some specific hard-to-aquire thing to induce labor, or it's one of those seemingly impossible and contradictory "neither at sea nor on land, neither at day nor at night, neither alone nor with other people" kind of conditions (i pulled that specific one out of my ass but you can find similar kind of contradictory and stupidly specific shit in mythology sometimes, you get my point), or some combination of the above, or some other stupidly specific and unintuitive condition, idk.

And the boy doesn't know the condition, of course. The first nine months he simply waits for the pregnancy to run its course, but as the months stretch on past the ninth, past the tenth, with no sign of the pregnancy coming to an end, he realizes he's not getting off the hook that easily. By then, of course, he's so heavily pregnant that everything is difficult - he can't walk very far at once at all, he needs ridiculous amounts of fabric to have clothes that fit, the baby - or babies, rather; he can't tell but he thinks he must have two or three in there - are restless and kick and writhe so he hardly has a moment's peace from them...

So he becomes searching for some solution, some way to birth the babies. First whatever conventional ways there are to induce labor. None of them do anything. He prays and makes sacrifices to the god, groveling and apologizing and begging for relief. No response. Then, he begins to seek out wise people, priests and oracles and shamans, first close by, then traveling further and further away to find someone who could tell him what to do.

It takes years, years of incredibly difficult travel, of weird looks from others and humiliation and yet often having to rely on the aid of other people to get to wherever he's going this time, because really he's in no state to travel except he doesn't have a choice. After the initial nine months, the babies do seem to grow slower than before that, but they do still grow little by little, making the burden quite literally heavier to bear, and they are restless in his womb, as though they too would know it is well past their time to be born already.

But finally, after years of searching, years of torment, the boy finds out the condition, and figures out a way to fulfill it. Once that is done, though, there's still the incredibly long and painful process of labor and giving birth to the babies, now much larger than his body ever was designed to give birth to...

I loooove perpetual pregnancies like this!!! It could even be similar to the Greek story abt Leto, so he’s in labor as he tries to figure out how to break his curse. Imagine him having to suffer through contractions, feeling his baby’s head sooo painfully low in his hips as he tries to push but the curse prevents it from coming out all while he’s in search of a way to give birth.

After years and years of searching, his babies become massive. Even with the slowed growth, they’d be the size of 2-3 year olds by the time he finally manages to fill the conditions to progress his labor. Maybe as he’s finally giving birth to his first baby, the god that cursed him decides to come down, just to torment him one last time before his punishment is over. There’s nothing the boy can do to get way from the god, belly pinning him to the ground with the weight of his writhing babies, unable to escape the wrathful god. Each time his baby comes to a crown, the god pushes it back in, making his scream is sob in agony, begging to be let go as it makes his tummy twist and writhe. He tries to kick and push the god away, but he’s too weak after carrying such a burden with him for so many years, completely helpless in the hands of his tormentor.

It goes on for days, weeks even, the god switching between pushing his babies back into his belly, then and painfully squeezing the swell to watch him thrash. Once they’re sure he’s learned his lesson, they let the last baby slip out between his trembling legs, leaving him exhausted, alone, surrounded by half a dozen massive babies as he’s finally allowed to pass out

[wolfythewitch]

Genuine question, what about King Saul? Cause I’m not really familiar with his story

Okay so this ended up pretty long so I'll put it under the cut

So he was anointed king when he went to look for his father's missing donkeys, and on the way they decided to visit a nearby town where Samuel lived. Samuel saw him and god told him that Saul was his appointed king, the first one to ever rule (before the kings there were only judges) Which was wild for him because

So he was anointed king the next day, in public. Which was also really funny because my man was hiding. He was stealthing. He actually came back to his father's house and worked the land until he was called to lead the army

So he does some king things and he does alright. I think his reign lasted two years, though some scholars say it must have been closer to 20ish. The thing is, he makes two mistakes.

First, he did not wait for Samuel before going through with an offering before a war

Second, he was sent to attack the Amalekites, and to not spare anyone, man, woman, or children, livestock. But he spared their king and their cattle.

An interesting thing here is the relationship of Saul and Samuel, as Samuel genuinely mourns that Saul is no longer to be king. And while they never see each other again after this, they both seemed to have cared for each other a lot.

So afterwards, David is anointed as the new king. At that time, Saul hasn't been made aware yet. He had David in his employ as an armor bearer, and when he was troubled, as he so often was these days, David would play the lyre to soothe him.

Now there was another battle between the Philistines and the Israelites, which you're probably more familiar with. This time they had a very special guy, a giant named Goliath. You probably know of the story, how David killed him with a slingshot. What's notable here was that Saul was genuinely fond of David, even lending him his own armor, even if it did become too heavy

David had befriended Jonathan and they became very close two, "knit his soul with his as if they were one". Saul have him a high rank in his army, as anything David was sent out to do he did successfully and well.

The first time we see him think negatively of David was when the people praised his deeds over Saul's, which most likely fed into his growing paranoia as well, knowing that his time as king was almost up

This time, fully convinced that David was to usurp him, he repeatedly ordered for his death, once even sending soldiers to where he lived with Saul's daughter(David's wife), though David managed to elude him.

David finally runs away with help from Jonathan (note this was a very emotional moment between the two and isn't very relevant to the story but it's great) and becomes a fugitive. He gains temporary refuge at a house of priests, who send him off with food and a weapon. Saul put these priests to death.

By now David has amassed a group of supporters who believed that he should be the rightful king. While Saul was pursuing them, they hid themselves away in a cave. Saul went to go take a piss and the men try to convince David to strike at his back. David spares Saul however, cutting off a piece of his cloak and showing it to him later on. He still believed Saul to be the rightful king and didn't want to hurt him.

8 Then David went out of the cave and called out to Saul, “My lord the king!” When Saul looked behind him, David bowed down and prostrated himself with his face to the ground. 9 He said to Saul, “Why do you listen when men say, ‘David is bent on harming you’? 10 This day you have seen with your own eyes how the Lord delivered you into my hands in the cave. Some urged me to kill you, but I spared you; I said, ‘I will not lay my hand on my lord, because he is the Lord’s anointed.’ 11 See, my father, look at this piece of your robe in my hand! I cut off the corner of your robe but did not kill you. See that there is nothing in my hand to indicate that I am guilty of wrongdoing or rebellion. I have not wronged you, but you are hunting me down to take my life. 12 May the Lord judge between you and me. And may the Lord avenge the wrongs you have done to me, but my hand will not touch you. 13 As the old saying goes, ‘From evildoers come evil deeds,’ so my hand will not touch you.

I can't post anymore photos sorry HAHA.

Overcome with remorse and guilt, Saul swears that he will stop chasing David and goes home.

But again, Saul goes after David, making camp near the wilderness where he stayed at. David snuck in under the cover of night and stole from Saul a water jug and a spear, which he showed to him when morning came.

8 Abishai said to David, “Today God has delivered your enemy into your hands. Now let me pin him to the ground with one thrust of the spear; I won’t strike him twice.” 9 But David said to Abishai, “Don’t destroy him! Who can lay a hand on the Lord’s anointed and be guiltless? 10 As surely as the Lord lives,” he said, “the Lord himself will strike him, or his time will come and he will die, or he will go into battle and perish. 11 But the Lord forbid that I should lay a hand on the Lord’s anointed. Now get the spear and water jug that are near his head, and let’s go.”

17 Saul recognized David’s voice and said, “Is that your voice, David my son?” David replied, “Yes it is, my lord the king.” 18 And he added, “Why is my lord pursuing his servant? What have I done, and what wrong am I guilty of?

And so once again guilty and remorseful, they part ways.

At this point, Samuel had already passed away. Desperate at an oncoming war, Saul seeks out a medium (which were forbidden) and asks to see Samuel's ghost

8 So Saul disguised himself, putting on other clothes, and at night he and two men went to the woman. “Consult a spirit for me,” he said, “and bring up for me the one I name.” 9 But the woman said to him, “Surely you know what Saul has done. He has cut off the mediums and spiritists from the land. Why have you set a trap for my life to bring about my death?” 10 Saul swore to her by the Lord, “As surely as the Lord lives, you will not be punished for this.” 11 Then the woman asked, “Whom shall I bring up for you?” “Bring up Samuel,” he said. 12 When the woman saw Samuel, she cried out at the top of her voice and said to Saul, “Why have you deceived me? You are Saul!” 13 The king said to her, “Don’t be afraid. What do you see?” The woman said, “I see a ghostly figure[a] coming up out of the earth.” 14 “What does he look like?” he asked. “An old man wearing a robe is coming up,” she said. Then Saul knew it was Samuel, and he bowed down and prostrated himself with his face to the ground.

But Samuel only repeats what has been said before, and says that he and his children will be delivered to the hand of the Philistines, and that tomorrow, he and his son will join Samuel (will die).

The next day, they were fighting and losing. While being pursued and knowing that they were close to defeat, Saul runs himself through his sword and dies, reasoning that death is better than captivity. His three sons died that day too.

(notably, he was still alive after impaling himself. A nearby soldier passed by and Saul begged him to finish the job, which he did)

His line does still live on, as David had taken in his only surviving grandson, Jonathan's son, Mephibosheth.

And yeah! That's a summarized version of his life. I just find his story fascinating, how his reign slowly grew more corrupted and paranoid, and how even the people closest to him turned on him, helping instead his greatest enemy, who wanted nothing but to serve him. It's really tragic haha. And presumably, he didn't even want to be king. After Samuel anointed him before the people, Saul went back to his home in Gibeah. He continued to work on his father's land until he was needed to lead the people in battle.

[catholic-academia-aesthetic]

Is it mandatory to take communion to be Catholic? i never took it and i really want to start practicing catholicism

I understand that you're not Catholic and you want to be. That's wonderful! Welcome!

You don't start with Communion though.

Communion is the source and summit of the Christian life, and that's why you need to prepare before you receive it.

You prepare through RCIA, which stands for Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults. It's a process through which non-baptized men and women enter the Catholic Church. If you live in a bigger city there are definitely RCIA programs you can join. If you live in a smaller town you can be the only new person wanting to join the Church, in which case your RCIA can be just you and the local priest talking. That's how it was for my small-town friend.

In any case, the best thing to do now is to go to the closest Catholic church, tell any random priest you want to become Catholic and ask what's the next step. If for some reason he's not helpful, you go to the next priest or church and repeat.

You say you want to start practicing Catholicism. The RCIA people will definitely explain everything and show you the ways to do it as you prepare.

In the meantime you can

1. Go to Mass (just refrain from Communion as you're not prepared for it yet)

2. Go to Eucharistc adoration

3. Pray (Hallow app can help you, its basic version is free)

4. Read the Bible. I'd start with one of the Gospels. You can find it online, just make sure it's Catholic version. You can also go with the 'Bible in a Year' podcast.

4. Learn about the Faith. Word on Fire on youtube is a great place to start. You can also start reading the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

5. [bonus] Take online Catholics (including me) with a grain of salt. You can always message me if you want to talk, but know that catholicblr posts can come with 10 layers of inside jokes and controversial opinions. It's funny for us but can be confusing for a newcomer like you. So by all means stay and have fun with us but only take your information from legitimate sources. The Catechism is a 100% legitimate source. The World on Fire on youtube is run by a real Catholic bishop so that's 100% legitimate too.

I'm very happy you're here! I thank God for bringing you to this point and I pray that you grow closer to Him every day and that you find good people irl who'll welcome you into the Church. God bless you!