#thoughts and prayers to big G

[apollognese]

Kong is just everywhere Godzilla looks😂😂

[nicoliine]

The night Lucifer became your god.

☆彡 Your god had abandoned you; the devil stayed by your side.

Whose your devotion is with?

☆ Disclaimer: I'm an atheist myself but was raised Catholic, so I understand that some people may find this disrespectful. Please, if you find the religion subject as a taboo to write about, don't continue reading.

☆ G/N Reader—no pronouns or y/n used.

☆ English isn't my first language and I wrote this drunk, so if there is any mistake please excuse me <3

Religion as a metaphor for love 🛐

 

—"Eli, Eli, lema sabachtani?" Matthäus 27:46.—

In Lucifer's eyes, you were an angel.

There were few things that he considered pure in hell. His daughter, the love he once had for his wife, and the joy he felt when his last rubber duck wasn't a fiasco.

 

You, however, were the purest thing that ever stepped on hell.

 

It made him sick. It was like heaven had taken pity on him and decided to send you to bring love and comfort to his shattered soul.

 

The first time he ever stepped on your room, he almost thought you two weren't in hell, but in a church, your room resembles a presbytery. He was met by a big cross on the wall in front of him and a lot of candles around; the final straw was a bible on the nightstand.

 

Where did you even get that?

It was creepy.

It gave him chills; surely he was uncomfortable at first; he hated sacred places; it made him feel dizzy. But the way you talked to him and how you looked at him in the eyes made him feel as if he were in heaven again.

Except that both of you were in hell.

You were in hell. With him.

Your looks weren't any different; you often had a kind smile on your face. When someone made a gross comment, he never failed to see you putting your hands together in a praying motion. He got a glimpse of your scarred knees one time, and a thought came to his mind: you on your knees, praying to God countless nights instead of going to parties.

 

He felt jealous; oh, to be adored in that way, how would it feel?

 

And you were so sweet; you always knew what to say and how to react. Even when he felt like getting back into his depression hole, kind words came out of your lips as you held him.

He wanted you; he never, in thousands of years in hell, ever prayed to God, but he would do it for you to be his.

 

  ☆◦ •◦☆

 

If you are an angel, then how did you end up here? He often wondered: surely God wouldn't be so cruel as to send you to hell, right?

 

A scoff left his lips; of course he would.

 

It was dark outside, and the pouring rain could be heard from outside your room. In the comfort of your room, he couldn't help but ask. You just finished your prayer, an old but well-conserved rosary on your hands.

You don't really know what to say.

 

"I just guess that I deserved it."

 

Hearing you say that broke him, how could you say that you deserved to be down there? How could you be so cool about it? You even laughed it off. He didn't deserve to have you there; please don't be so mean to you.

You tried to change the subject almost immediately; you don't want to go on about the many nights that you stayed awake calling for your god to take you out of there, just to hear you. You think that Lucifer wouldn't like to hear you say that you don't want to be there.

 

Oh god, my god, why did he forsaken you?

 

Truth be told, you often questioned it yourself; you didn't want to. Guess that's why you're down there; you asked so many questions? how you spent your whole life following his rules, praying until your knees bled, and giving all your life to him, just to be thrown into hell forever.

 

It wasn't your fault.

You were so young and so naive.

Please, how can you leave me here?

How could you let me down even when you said you loved me?

 

  ☆◦ •◦☆

 

When you woke up in hell, you felt your heart shatter. Somehow,  you managed to make it to the Heaven Embassy, looking at the building and hoping for them to come back for you, you stayed there for days. But it never happened.

It should be a mistake. You couldn't have failed; what had you done wrong?

 

When you arrived at the hotel, you wanted to cry. Everything Charlie told you would take for you to be redeemed has been everything you did in life.

Then why are you there?

 

Every passing day, your chest hurts a little more. It was like pieces of your soul were falling apart.

 

"I feel guilty, Lucifer; I know I shouldn't question his actions, that I would never understand," you said as your eyes were fixated on the big cross on your wall, "but he abandoned me; he doesn't love me anymore. I highly doubt he ever did."

 

You later felt guilty for breaking the rosary in your hand. Lucifer, however, felt excited about it.

 

  ☆◦ •◦☆

 

It hurts to see you like this, it made Lucifer feel so bad.

I mean, he understands how you are feeling; he used to have so many dreams that were taken away from him the moment he talked to his creator. He just wanted to be heard.

But he wasn't heard.

He remembers how it happened—the court spat on his face in his trial. They didn't even let him talk. He remembers how he felt the air leaving his lungs, so humiliated and despised by his father. He grabbed a fist of his shirt while they brought his sentence. His chest hurts a lot. He looked at his father, asking for forgiveness that he was never granted.

So he understood your pain; he felt your pain as his while you looked so hurt. You two weren't so different.

Except you were, you are a pure soul who did everything right, no questions asked ever. It makes his blood boil.

 

How could God treat you like this while Lucifer could break hell apart just for you to be on your knees for him?

He wanted to bring you comfort, but what does one say in a moment like this? What could he say that could give your heart rest?

 

You felt guilty; you felt remorse, wrath, pain, sadness—you didn't know what to think or how to react. You felt like your own father had abandoned you, leaving a hollow in your soul that couldn't be filled.

 

Everything left was for you to wait.

Wait to find something else to live for.

Something to pray for.

Someone to believe.

 

"If you were mine, I would never abandon you." Lucifer felt no remorse to say that; he wasn't taking advantage of your state. He just was showing you the right way, by his side you would never feel neglected or hurt. This is how it must have been since the beginning; if you had given him your heart since the beginning, you wouldn't have felt so much pain.

 

He would take care of you forever.

 

To have you on your knees before him was strange. He dreamed about this exact moment for so long, but he never thought it could really happen.

But it was happening.

You were there, with so much devotion in your eyes that it was impossible to look away.

He could see in your eyes that you would do everything he asked for.

How could God let you go when you were so devoted?

 

He wouldn't let you go.

Never.

You are his now.

You are his loyal believer; he's your god.

 

Like it always was supposed to be.

 

About where the inspiration for this came from:

There's a Mary statue in Spain that I absolutely loved the work of the sculptor, it's called: "María Santísima de la Quinta Angustia." —love the name!Her hurt face gave me chills and I thought about this writing. Please take a look at her, she looks like a doll! ✨

 

Likes and reblogs are appreciated. 💞

[etherealxwitch]

warnings: oral (f receiving), semi public sex

You and Eddie are sneaking off from Steve’s annual pool party. Your little bathing suit showed every part that Eddie needed to touch, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

He drags you through the big house until he finds the bathroom, pushing you against the door once it is fully shut and locked.

“Eddie, there gonna come looking for us!” Your tone was hushed, even more so when Eddie dropped to his knees in front of you, kissing down your body.

He scoffed, toying with the bottoms of your suit. “Does it look like I care?” He bit at your hips, his teeth marking you up. “And from those whines, you don’t care either.”

You couldn’t deny it; seeing Eddie on his knees, his big browns looking up at you full of lust, you couldn’t care less about the party happening outside.

“That’s what I thought, pretty girl.” Your bottoms were slowly slid down your smooth legs, his fingers digging into your soft skin. “You just stand there and look pretty as always while I get a taste of what I’ve been craving all day.

Before you knew it, one of your legs was thrown on Eddie’s shoulders, his lips pressed against your thigh. “Fuck, baby, have you been this soaked the whole time?”

His tongue swiped through your folds, barely running against your clit. You tried to answer him, but all that came out was a strangled moan. Your fingers immediately went to his hair, pulling him closer to cunt.

“Mmm, have some patience.” Eddie looked up at you, a mischievous smirk on his face. “There’s no need to rush.”

“T-there is when- shit,” he wrapped his plump lips around your swollen clit, sucking it into his warm mouth. His teeth grazed it, eliciting a long whimper from you. “Oh my god, it feels so good.”

Eddie’s fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. He groaned against you, the sweet taste of your cunt flooding his tastebuds.

Your clit was nestled into his mouth as his fingers toyed with your aching hole, teasing you further. “Eddie… please? I-I wanna cum!”

He pulled away, his lips and chin coated in your slick. “Yeah?” He slid his rough fingers in knuckle deep, and your legs almost buckled beneath you. “How bad do you want it?”

You looked down at him, your mouth agape from his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your cunt. The soft squelching noises echoed off the small bathroom wall. “You know I need it so bad. Can’t you feel I fucking soaked I am?”

“Not only can I feel it,” his tongue nudged at your clit, causing you to pull harder on his hair. “I can fucking taste it.”

Eddie didn’t say anything else, only wrapped his lips back around your clit and sucked with vigor.

Your whole body was shaking, your other hand gripping the doorknob. Between his fingers fucking into you fast and his mouth sucking on your clit, your orgasm was fast approaching.

Eddie slid in a third finger, curling them right against your g-spot, pumping them as far as they could reach. He shook his head back and forth, pulling on your clit, making sure to nibble on it. And that’s when you lost it.

Your toes curled against the cold linoleum floor, and your back arched from the door. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your legs shook as you came, dripping around his fingers and down your thighs. “Eddie- oh my god-,” his name fell from your mouth like a prayer.

Eddie didn’t let up, not until you were fully out of breath and barely able to hold yourself up.

He let go of your now overly sensitive clit and pulled his fingers from your cunt, watching as they dripped in cum. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie made a show of it, sliding his fingers in his mouth and licking the clean, making sure to collect every drop. “Always so fucking sweet.”

You couldn’t even say anything, your mind still reeling. Weakly, you bent down to pull your bottoms back up, Eddie helping you before opening the door and making sure the coast was clear. He had to help you walk back outside, your legs still wobbly from the orgasm.

Before you could walk away from him, he smacked you on the ass, his rings stinging in their wake. “Don’t go too far. I wanna finish what we started later.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! I love your work as always!

Can I request Reader, being from the village and being devout to Mother Miranda all their life, hasn’t forgotten their devotion to her and still prays every night. Normally this wouldn’t bother Donna.. but she starts to get jealous. Every prayer reader makes Donna imagines possesive and dark thoughts about Reader praying to her instead. One night during a particularly lengthy prayer, Donna snaps and let’s her dark thoughts consume her by making Reader not only pray to her, but make her worship her. Smut please G!P Donna if you want! Thank you for all you do 🖤

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your support and for your request!!!!Thank you for reading me!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Pray

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, dark themes, dark Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 8,550

Summary: I'm the one who can be your Goddess...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

I never asked for mercy, I never demanded a place in this world full of shadows, but still, I got it. I can't complain about obtaining eternal life. I don't even have the right to protest about the horror that the gift of the Gods did to the scar on my face, about how they had fun transforming my body. A life of eternal youth, of power, of having the ability to influence others, to scare them, to make them fear me...

After that second chance, I thought that loneliness was over, but it was just an illusion, a passing thought that never came true. Over time I realized that maybe that was my fate; that I, Donna Beneviento, was born to be a Lord and not a normal, ordinary woman.

My madness existed long before the Cadou, and it continued to exist after. If I was a hermit before, I was a monster now. I didn't really care too much if those poor villagers thought that way, they could call me whatever they wanted.

With a snap of my fingers I could make them suffer, punish them even if I had no reason to do so. Yes, it was funny to play with the lives of those perfect fools, but even that small thrill of creating nightmares in their minds stopped being funny.

Loneliness consumed me little by little without me being aware of it. Thanks to Angie, I was able to bear this new life better, but that had one big difference: I couldn't escape from this life.

Years passed and nothing changed. I began to understand what it meant to be someone like me, to be feared. I never sought out contact with other people. I never wanted to end that loneliness, until I met you.

If I had acted the same way as always, that is, making a stupid excuse not to attend Mother Miranda's sermon… Well, I probably wouldn't have met you.

You were a strange, but beautiful girl. That was the first thing I thought. My black veil protected me from the horrified gazes of those stupid villagers, but it also protected you from seeing me looking at you.

A young girl who wasn't afraid to kneel before the Black Gods, a beautiful growing woman who clasped her hands to pray for her salvation. It was impossible for such a sight not to catch my attention. After all, any kind of contact was new to me, any strange feeling I had when looking at you was a new discovery.

It wasn't love at first. I could say it was more like... Fixation.

My siblings were always clear about their position in the village. They always knew they could do whatever they wanted with those poor souls. Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I had given in to my instincts, if my approach hadn't been silent.

You would only be one more victim, I would have terrified you. I would have never given you the chance to try to get to know me.

I would have had you, I would have taken you as I imagined so many times in my lonely nights, I would have enjoyed your body but… I would have lost you.

I would have lost that warmth your smile transmitted, the touch of those soft hands, that tender look… I couldn't say if it would have been worth possessing you, claiming you as mine as soon as I met you.

But the good side of my conscience, the side that had not yet been conquered by the demons of my madness was the one that guided me, the one that forced me to repress my primary desires, the one that showed me the right way to have you and never lose you.

Love was always a mystery to me. I couldn't understand what made people feel weak in contact with others. Yes, I had read a lot of novels that talked about it, I knew it existed, but I needed to see it to believe.

Your smile never faded, not even the day I looked for you in the church, when I heard your beautiful voice for the first time. Your voice sounded sweet, much better than any nightmare scream, than any call for help.

After meeting you, I realized how wrong I was about my impure thoughts. Love existed, it lived in you.

Neither my face nor my body stopped you from looking at me that way, one that drove me even crazier, that made me feel like I could fly, that my loneliness had an expiration date.

It was hard for me to understand what an angel like you could have seen in a demon like me, but… Yes, love could do those things. Admitting that I loved before kissing you was difficult for me.

My sister said that love was weakness; that any desire I had shouldn’t interfere with absurd feelings. I didn't listen to her.

It didn't take long for you to live with me, to give in to my pleas. You were so sweet, so tender, so… You.

Then I understood what my sister didn't understand, the difference between loving and satisfying, between asking and taking. Did she ever feel that way about one of her maids? Well, I can't deny it outright, but I'm convinced that she didn't.

Asking you for a kiss was much better than stealing it from you. Caressing your hands was much better than tying them behind your back. They were free to touch me, to slide over my skin in the same way, it was an incredibly pleasurable sensation.

Taking your innocence was much better than stealing it from you, making love to you was much better than raping you, than letting the darkness inside me claim your body.

Enjoying the dance of our bodies, that unmatched feeling of being inside you and looking into your eyes, watching the sparkle in your gaze as you burned with pleasure couldn’t compare to hearing you scream, beg, fight against my attacks.

For once in my sad life, I think I did the right thing, and I don't regret it, nor will I ever regret it.

“(Y/N)?” I asked walking towards the kitchen, where your sweet humming echoed in the walls, like a voice that guided me to you, as an indication that it was not a dream, that love had come into my life, and would never leave, would never dare to do so.

(Y/N), if you ever dared to even think about leaving me... I would lose my mind, I would hurt you...

“Donna…” you said laughing, protesting the kisses that attacked your neck, the effusiveness that my body had every time I saw you in the morning. “Hey, I'm making breakfast.”

I laughed the same way, pushing the hair from your neck and kissing it before leaning on the counter, hypnotized by your beauty, by your way of being.

Sometimes I wonder what you could see in a monster like me…

“Did you sleep well, tesoro?” I asked innocently, without being able to take my horrendous eye off your figure, off that elegance you had, which made no sense in a simple villager like you.

Could love turn a commoner into a princess?

“Oh, yes,” you answered with a soft voice, focused on that magnificent breakfast. “Thanks to the Black Gods and Mother Miranda.”

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat in a playful way, looking away, pretending to be offended.

“Oh, and to you, darling, of course,” you said, running a hand through mine as an apology. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” I said dryly, looking away.

Nothing you had said could make me angry or cool down the desire I had every morning to love you, but there was something, something that sounded in my head like a tedious loop, and that had been doing so for a long time.

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding with a smile. “Oh, could you go up and set the table?”

“Sure,” I said, kissing your cheek quickly, coming out of that strange moment, one that was becoming more and more evident.

“You are an angel, did you know that?” you said before I disappeared through the door, forcing me to stop with an involuntary smile as I shook my head.

“That's not true,” I said, trying not to let the darkness take over my words, not to let the demons out of the cage I made for them. “But, thank you…”

I went up in the elevator like every morning, reflecting on how my life had changed. My hands trembled involuntarily when my mind took charge of worrying me, of taking me out of that paradise to take me back to hell.

My life with you was perfect but… Did perfection really last forever? That was, of course, my greatest fear.

Happiness was fleeting, or so they used to say. I try to keep those thoughts away, but sometimes it's complicated.

I know what I am like, I know I am… Possessive, jealous, I don't allow you certain things that should be normal, but I can't help it. Losing you after having raped you would have been horrible but… Losing you when I already know the love you can give me, when I know how your kisses, your caresses feel…

Hell could not compare to that. I would surely hurt you, make you suffer, but you wouldn’t feel the damage, it would be torture for me.

“Hey, you, buongiorno!”  a shrill voice managed to wake me from those horrible thoughts, from those imaginary scenarios in which your smile no longer adorned your face and you begged for compassion.

Luckily, Angie had always been with me. She was conscience that was part of me and at the same time was so different… I wonder if the doll my father gave me stole that part of my personality that never dared to come to light.

“You?” I said with a smile, picking up the doll from the floor and putting her disastrous clothes on, something that always comforted me. “Buongiorno, Angie.”

“Where's the fool?” the doll asked, peeking over my shoulder, looking at the elevator hallway.

“Don't call her that, you know I hate it,” I protested, frowning and leaving the puppet back on the floor.

“Fool, fool, fool,” she repeated mockingly, making me roll my eye as I walked to the cupboard. “Can't I say she's a fool?”

“(Y/N) isn't a fool, stop making fun of her,” I said in a somber tone.

No one could ever insult you, no one.

“Hey, hey, hey, Donna, Donna,” Angie said, tugging on my dress impatiently. I snorted, but stopped setting the table to look at her. “Do you know what that silly… I mean, (Y/N) made me do yesterday?”

“Angie, per favore…” I sighed again, with a serious look, pushing the puppet away from my clothes. “Leave me alone.”

“That silly girl made me pray, can you believe it?” Angie said climbing onto the table to get my attention even more, something she was mysteriously an expert at.

“Pray? You?” I asked curiously, with a mocking smile.

“Yes, me, that silly girl said I had to show more respect for Mother Miranda,” the puppet explained and I frowned again.

“You have no respect for anyone,” I whispered, meticulously placing all the plates and cutlery, not paying attention to the doll’s complaints. “Just do what she tells you.”

“Ohh, I see…” Angie murmured, shaking her head, crossing her arms. “So you defend her, huh?”

“Of course I defend her,” I said seriously, straightening the tablecloth. A perfect table for a perfect girl… as expected. “You know how devoted she is.”

“You only defend her because you play baby-making with her,” she protested unpleasantly, making me look up and growl.

“Basta, Angie,” I said in a stern tone. “I don't know where you learned all that rudeness.”

“From here, silly Donna,” the doll said, hitting my head, making me protest again.

“Ugh…” I complained about the blows. “Stay still, will you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Angie mocked. “It must be very hard for you to be the second, right?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked confused.

It shouldn't be difficult for me to know how to interpret the doll's words, but she knew very well how to confuse me.

“This morning she rejected you again,” Angie said, getting down from the table. “I know.”

“What? Well, she didn't exactly reject me,” I said, remembering that moment when I woke up and my body was begging to be released by your caresses, by yours… “She just doesn't like me to interrupt her while she prays.”

“Of course, of course…” the doll mocked me again, making me snort tired of her attitude. “Oh, Mother Miranda, yes, Mother Miranda… I prefer to pray to you than to let Donna stick her…”

“Taci!” I shouted furiously, clenching my fists on both sides of my hips, breathing heavily. “Stop saying stupid and rude things.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty,” she said with an ironic tone, pretending to bow. “Admit it.”

“What?” I asked, shaking my head and waiting impatiently for you to come up, to free me from the accusations of the doll.

“It bothers you,” Angie said with a proud tone. “That the fool ignores you because she spends most of her time praying to Miranda bothers you.

“It doesn't bother me,” I said, sure of my words. “She is free to pray as much as she wants.”

“Honestly, it would bother me,” the doll commented, with a calmer tone.

It wasn't possible, it was simply not possible for my doll to be able to navigate each of my thoughts.

“I'm not you,” I hissed crossing my arms in a cocky manner. “(Y/N) is the love of my life and I don't care about her devotion to Miranda, it's a good thing, in fact.”

“She would have to be devoted to you and not to Miranda,” Angie explained.

“You know perfectly well that it has nothing to do with me,” I said in a dark tone.

I don't know at what point I insisted on arguing with the doll. You loved me, only me.

“It has nothing to do with you? Are you completely sure about that, Donna?” the puppet asked, before the elevator rang, indicating that you were finally at my side.

I remained thoughtful, searching for a silent answer to that question. No, it didn't bother me, that devotion of yours, that fervent adoration you felt for Miranda was never a problem for me but, as I sat in front of you, helping you serve breakfast, Angie's words traveled through my head.

Are you completely sure about that, Donna?

“I was starting to think you weren't coming,” I said with a fake smile, kindly serving you a cup of that perfect coffee you made. Everything you made was perfect, everything.

“Well, I'd like to say that I stopped getting lost in the basement but I'd be…” you said in a sweet voice, with a slight blush on your cheeks.

“Lying,” I finished your sentence in a dry way.

Sometimes my voice doesn't match my intentions but, of course, you already knew that.

“Hey, Donna!” you said abruptly, giving my hand a soft slap when I reached out to grab one of your perfect pieces of toast.

I opened my eye wide and pulled my hand back, rubbing the place where you hit it with a sad look.

“We should pray first,” you said as you lowered your head, joining your hands together. I looked at you with a frown and then turned my eye to Angie, who was laughing, probably at me. “Come on, sweetheart.”

I sighed, blinking and shaking my head and clasped my hands together as you closed your eyes.

“Great ones, hear our voice, together as one in reverence,” you began with a pleasant whisper, but for some reason, it didn’t feel that way to me this time. “We on thee you within the endless dark, to deliver us into fate’s hands… Donna…”

I blinked, sighing. Of course, you noticed that I hadn’t prayed with you in a while.

Why would I want to pray, (Y/N)? I was a damn Lord.

“Yes…” I sighed with a groan. “Um… Um…

“As the midnight…” you said to help me continue with what I refused to do. Normally it wasn't a problem for me, in fact, I had been hearing that prayer for many years, too many. I just didn't want to do it that day.

"As the midnight moon rises on black wings, so we make our sacrifice,” we said at the same time, “and we wait for the light at the end. In life, and in death, we give glory, Mother Miranda…”

“That's it, you can eat,” you said with a smile once you let your hands go. I looked at you intensely and confusedly.

Are you completely sure about that, Donna?

“Va bene…” I sighed, picking up the toast again, buttering it while I struggled with my own conscience.

No, there was nothing wrong with your fervent devotion. You were a good faithful to Mother Miranda, and that had to be good for both of us, right? Right?

The sound of cutlery was the only thing that could be heard in the quiet morning. A pleasant sound, proof that you were by my side, that your smile was there for me to look up and contemplate it as many times as I wanted. Angie only said nonsense.

“You look beautiful this morning, tesoro,” I commented, daring to break the silence with a compliment, one that caused your body to move nervously, pleased by my words.

You bit your lip without answering, lowering your head to avoid me noticing your embarrassment.

“Donna…” you sighed romantically. “You are very flattering today.”

“Just today?” I asked amused, trying to seduce you with my gaze, something simple, but that somehow seemed more complicated to me. “(Y/N), I, I would like… I would like to change the portrait on the stairs.”

“The portrait?” you asked curiously, blowing on the hot coffee. “Why? It's beautiful, Donna…”

“Well, that's your opinion,” I said somewhat nervously, shaking my head. “You know it's not loyal to reality.”

“Mm, it's true,” you said nodding, resting your head on one of your hands and blinking childishly. “Reality is much better.”

“You’re very flattering too,” I whispered tenderly, playing with the hand you had absentmindedly left on the table, a serious mistake. Mine would always look for it.

“The Gods have granted me a good mood today,” you said with a confident tone that made me suddenly withdraw my hand, forcing my brow to frown again.

Are you completely sure about that, Donna?

“C-Certo,” I stammered, playing with the toast, hardening my gaze, looking away from yours. “I, what I wanted to tell you is that… Well, now that you're with me, I'd like to change the portrait for, for one of us, you know, of the two of us.”

“Really?” you asked with shining eyes, ones that I couldn't resist, that I couldn't help but look at again. “I think it's a great idea, Donna.”

“I thought so,” I whispered, taking your hand again. “I'll talk to Alcina and…”

“Wait, well, it's a good idea but…” you interrupted with a thoughtful smile.

“But?” I asked nervously. “What's wrong, tesoro?”

“Now that you mention the portraits…” you murmured looking erratically around you. “…I've realized that this house is missing something.”

“What's missing?” I asked curiously, looking at the same places as her.

“I can't believe it, Donna,” you said with a stern but at the same time amused voice. “Isn't there a single portrait of Mother Miranda?”

“A portrait of Mother Miranda?” I asked, moving my hand away again, letting the romanticism of that perfect breakfast be distorted by your words.

I couldn't, I shouldn't be annoyed, but I was.

“Yes,” you said, nodding, with an innocent tone and a smile that, of course, wasn't for me. “Well, I know that you're like her daughter and that you're a Lord… But, Donna, that doesn't exempt you from your obligations.”

“Obligations,” I murmured confused, with my heart beating fast, furious for no apparent reason.

“Yes, my love… Mother Miranda loves and protects us and the least we can do is bless our home with her presence.”

I laughed nervously, I didn't know if it was because of how ridiculous that sounded, or because Angie's words made more and more sense.

“I don't see the joke, Donna,” you said with a serious tone, relaxing your smile and crossing your arms

“I'm not laughing…” I said swallowing a growl and shaking my head. “Tesoro, that's not necessary. Mother Miranda is always with all of us, besides, I'm the one who takes care of you and protects you,” I hissed with a voice that was perhaps too dark, perhaps taken out of context, out of place.

For some reason, saying that made me feel good…

“Why can you take care of me and protect me?” you asked with a certain irony, with a tone that made me clench my fists unconsciously.

“Because I love you?” I said, with that same tone, one lacking the love and romanticism with which I always communicated with you.

“No, darling, because Mother Miranda adopted you as her daughter, took pity on you and saved you from your misery. I can't believe you're that ungrateful,” you said with a serious voice, with that smile off your face.

I could think you were joking, exaggerating, but the lack of sparkle in your eyes confirmed my suspicions. Damn, (Y/N) you were completely serious.

“Ungrateful? Me?”  I asked, getting up from the chair and pointing at myself. “I'm a Lord, (Y/N).”

“Mm yes, so that gives you the right to be more important than Mother Miranda?” you answered quickly.

 You weren't stupid, that's why I fell in love with you, although I never thought it would turn against me.

“No… Yes… Well, I don't know, (Y/N), I should be more important than Miranda, at least for you,” I said angrily, fixing my furious eye on yours.

Again, you didn't even flinch.

“Mother Miranda,” you corrected smugly. “Come on, Donna, don't tell me you're jealous of her…”

“Jealous? No, of course I’m not,” I said suddenly, defending myself as best I could.

“You're very nervous, honey. Sit down and relax…” you whispered with a voice that pretended to be calm, with the same voice you put when I lost my mind, when I suffered my terrible crises.

That wasn't one of them. My anger wasn't irrational, it made sense.

“Y-You make me nervous, (Y/N),” I protested, shaking my head. “I understand you are devout and, well, I don't care, but you have to be clear about one thing, tesoro... Mother Miranda isn't here, but I am, do you understand?”

“You are selfish,” you hissed, looking away, something that made me blink in confusion. “Can't there be anyone else in my life but you?”

“Am I selfish for wanting my girl to pay some attention to me?” I asked, gritting my teeth.

“I pay you attention, Donna, all you want,” you said, drinking your coffee calmly. “But the Gods don't tolerate blasphemy and I remain faithful to them, as well as to Mother Miranda.”

“Yes, but...” I said confused, starting to lose that argument.

“No, Donna, respect my beliefs, okay?” you demanded with a cold look.

I growled, crossing my arms and shaking my head.

“I'm sorry,” I said after a few minutes of tense silence. “I didn't mean to offend your beliefs, (Y/N).”

“That's much better, darling… Come here, come,” you said with a tender smile, indicating me to come closer and softly kissing my lips. “You know I love you, right?”

Do you love her too? That's what I would have liked to say, but I didn't want to.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, caressing her cheek, a gesture that made you blush again. “Fine, I'll look for a portrait of Mir… Of Mother Miranda…”

“Great, great,” you said excitedly jumping for joy and kissing me again. “Thank you, my love… I'm going to pick this up.”

A nasty laugh reached my ears as you disappeared down the elevator hallway.

“Silly Donna,” Angie mocked, pretending to writhe in laughter on the floor.

“That was your fault,” I hissed, kicking the floor furiously, a fury I couldn’t use against you, I never could.

“Mine? Liar,” the doll protested.

“Ugh,” I growled, with a furious look. “You made me think such horrible things, Angie.”

“Horrible things? Oh, right, you mean that the silly girl prefers Miranda over you…” she said in a sinister tone I tried to ignore.

“That’s not true,” I said to myself, running a hand over my forehead. I needed to relax.

“No? Tell me, Donna, where are you going to put Miranda's portrait, on the bedside table? Yes, yes, that's the best place,” the doll mocked, straining my patience even more. “I'm sure (Y/N) will let you fuck her while she looks at her in admiration…”

“Angie!” I screamed furiously, scaring the doll, who ran away laughing. “Ugh, cazzo… vaffanculo!” I shouted, walking towards the elevator, heading to forget that horrible morning with my dolls, the best I could do.

“Who's the rude one now?”

I never really saw your devotion as something wrong. I met you in church. I knew how faithful you were to Mother Miranda and the Gods.

That was part of your personality. That blind and obsessive faith was part of you, it was something I couldn't take away from you and, honestly, I never saw the need to do so. Every night we spent together, you prayed, you prayed before sleeping, before eating, before… Well, before doing anything.

I even thought it was adorable. After all, Mother Miranda created me.

Every night I saw your devotion expressed in your words, gratitude for being with me, and that relieved me. It could just be a phase, a habit you had when you lived in the village, but over time I realized that it wasn’t like that.

Being faithful to Miranda was fine, it saved me trouble. It saved me from having to protect you more than necessary. You were the perfect villager to the priestess, a brainless zombie who would never question her decisions, or mine.

Again, my older sister's words stirred my conscience. Alcina was probably the most faithful to Miranda, too faithful. I always thought there was something more behind that servitude, something that perhaps resembled what I felt for you.

But that wasn’t important. Alcina's and Moreau's devotion to Miranda was almost as sick as yours, but with one big difference.

I have always wondered what was in the heads of the castle's maids, if any of them had such devotion to the leader of the village.

For me it was impossible to know. I never spoke to them and I rejected Alcina's offer to use them many times.

In their eyes, in their helpful glances, I always saw the devotion that was somewhat similar to yours, but at the same time quite different. They didn’t pray to Mother Miranda, their Gods were not the Black Gods. Their only deity, the only thing those girls cared about was Alcina.

They lived for her, they would give their lives for her, they worshipped her. I would even dare  to say they prayed to her. What I had previously seen as a horrible and disturbing thought began to sound better and better in my head.

For the maids Alcina was their Goddess, for you, your only Goddess was Mother Miranda.

Envy began to make me dizzy. It's not that I wanted to be like my sister, I could never be like her but... While I tried to distract myself with my dolls, the images passed over and over again in my mind.

“Damn it...” I muttered, dressing an inert porcelain body.

I began to imagine what it would be like if you were my faithful devotee, the things you would say to me, do to me, how you would behave if I were something more like Miranda to you. At first they were innocent images, but the darkness of my conscience made me turn away from those simple thoughts in which you only changed by ceasing to pray every night, every hour.

No, that wasn’t enough to calm my soul. Alcina wasn’t a boring woman, she played with her faithful servants; they worshipped her in a carnal way. They knelt before her, just as you did with Miranda.

I imagined you doing the same, worshipping me, praying to me, making me feel like your Goddess, forcing you to kneel before me, to dispose of your body when I, your Goddess, wanted it, in the way I wanted. Dark thoughts, yes, but they sent shivers through my body.

Claiming my superiority over the village vermin wasn’t difficult for me, but… Trying to make you look at me the way you did with Miranda… That would be more complicated.

Lust interrupted my fears, sending me images of you kneeling, caressing me with a smile while your tongue acted divinely, worshipping my body, wanting it inside yours.

Pulling your hair, forcing you to kiss my penis, to worship it as part of my divinity… It deviated from my true concerns, causing my body to act accordingly.

“Oh…” I sighed as the heat began to overwhelm me, as my hand gently passed over my sudden erection, forming a bulge in the black fabric of my dress.

I needed to take you, and I needed it right then.

“Angie,” I whispered to the doll, who was playing distractedly, fortunately oblivious to the excitement of my body. “G-Go call (Y/N), will you?”

“What for?” the puppet questioned.

“Just do it,” I said in a soft tone, stimulating my body discreetly, enjoying the touch of my own hands motivated by my dark thoughts.

“Oh, again…” the doll sighed, stopping just before leaving through the doors. “Wait, (Y/N) isn't here…”

“What? She's not here? Where is she?” I asked nervously.

“Look at the clock, silly Donna, (Y/N) has gone to mass,” Angie said, making me look at the same place, closing my eye when I realized she was right.

Again, Miranda stood between you and me, preventing me from taking you as I would like. My thoughts were becoming more and more dangerous.

“Okay, okay, go away, Angie,” I said, waving my hand for her to leave.

“But…”

“Go away…” I hissed, making the doll shrug and leave the workshop grumbling.

Loneliness wasn't so bad after all. My imagination was playing tricks on me, my body was screaming to be released, but not in the usual way. Lust was asking me to dominate you, it was asking me to see you on your knees, to hear you say how much you adored me.

Surely those obscene thoughts would be part of my excitement and it would pass soon. I could think of many ways to fulfill my desire, to make you mine and only mine but… I knew that wasn't possible. I swore to myself that I would never do anything without your permission, that I wouldn't let the darkness ruin an act as beautiful as making love.

Taking advantage of the fact that you were with your Goddess, I decided to take the liberty of freely fantasizing about that idea of ​​being adored, releasing my terribly excited shaft and starting to caress it while your voice whispered things in my mind.

Mm, you are certainly a Goddess, Donna… My only Goddess… Let me worship you as you deserve…

I’m yours, only yours, let me kneel before you, let my mouth worship you, my love…

Do you like me to touch myself for you, my Goddess? Look how wet I am, do I have to pray for you to take me here and now, or do I have to confess my sins? It's so hard… You are divine, Donna…

Those fantasy voices made me want to stop, not to forget that lustful act with myself, but to enjoy it even more.

Before I met you I used to masturbate often. I didn't do it because I really felt like it. I always saw it as an inevitable need. Yes, I enjoyed releasing myself imagining brief encounters with one of the maids, even sometimes, just sometimes, I wanted to pick up the phone, call my sister, and use one of them.

But it was something temporary. My body's need was different from pleasure. No matter how hard I try, I can't remember a stimulation as pleasurable as that.

My hand moved slowly. I closed my eye to see you better, to imagine that it was your hand and not mine. Envy, jealousy... I didn't really care about the reasons for my behavior. I only cared about making it seem as real as possible.

The idea of ​​it being a wet fantasy distracted me, but the pleasure of my stimulation was much greater, making me speed up, enjoying every movement while I moaned in a whisper, saying rude things that, even if you were in front of me, you wouldn't be able to understand.

There came a moment when my own movements got out of control, when the pleasure of imagining you being my devotee devoured the calm with which I caressed myself.

“Cazzo…” I protested, shrinking into myself, quickly looking for a nearby napkin before I released. It was a too pleasurable release.

The napkin shone with my lust and I could only think of one thing… How it would look inside you…

As I cleaned myself in the sink my conscience navigated confusedly. Somehow I thought of you in a dark way, in a sudden way. That wasn't you, you weren't kneeling in front of me, you never would be.

Should I regret having transformed you into someone else while I touched myself? Could it be considered cheating? Have I done something wrong? Did you?

The logic I had left told me I should. The darkness had consumed me. The jealousy had gone too far, but… In a strange way, I couldn’t feel bad about it.

Maybe, deep down, that’s what I wanted.

Of course, I never mentioned what I did. It was just a moment of nervous lust, of possessive madness.

Our life continued as always, even little by little, I got used to the portrait of Miranda you made me look for. Every time I passed by her, I got chills, I thought about what you would do to her if she were there, what things you would be capable of doing for her, for your Goddess.

I wanted to get away from those thoughts, from those dark impulses, but I couldn't do it. Every night, as always, you continued praying, praising your deities, leaving me aside, abandoned during those minutes, those in which I believed I wasn’t the most important thing in your life.

Your prayers slipped through my ears, I stopped understanding them, hearing them. I could only hear the voices in my head. I could only imagine you in front of me, saying my name instead of Miranda's.

The tension passed through my mind, penetrating my body, my words. You knew something was wrong with me, but you didn't dare to ask.

What would you think of me if I told you that I wanted to be your Goddess?

I didn't know and it terrified me but... What really scared me was the loss of that logical thought, the constant imagination that disturbed and dirty my mind. I was scared, but of myself, because, as time went by, I began to stop wondering what you would say, what reaction you would have.

I didn't care anymore, my conscience stopped controlling my dark thoughts and that was dangerous, very dangerous...

“Mm, let's see... I also want to thank you for...” your voice sounded almost inaudible to me, like every night, you prayed tirelessly while I unbuttoned the top of my dress.

At least you no longer forced me to pray with you.

“I want to thank you for granting me the undeserved gift of being able to be with Donna,” you prayed whispering, kneeling in front of the bed.

Those words took me out of my internal struggle against darkness, forcing me to look at you with a tender smile, even though you couldn't see me.

“You saved her, Mother Miranda, making me the happiest girl in the village, allowing me to get to know her, to discover the wonderful woman she is.”

As I continued with the buttons, I laughed shyly, blushing, getting up to be a little closer, sitting next to you and lifting your chin.

“Bellisima…”  I whispered affectionately as your eyes opened, the smile had returned to your face, but, delicately, you moved my hand away from it.

“Shh, wait, Donna, I'm not done yet,” you said whispering, as if the Gods or Miranda were able to hear you

I nodded calmly, without getting up, looking at you with the devotion I wanted for myself.

Were you my Goddess?

After you flattered me in your prayers, your words deviated from that pleasant path, starting to pray for the villagers, for my siblings, for every living being that diverted your attention from me.

Normally you didn't take that long, and it started to make me nervous.

Nerves could be controlled in a normal person, but I wasn't a normal person. I was sick, my mind was damaged and there were many reasons why I couldn't control myself. Logical or illogical reasons, my mind made no distinctions.

Your words stopped relaxing me, your voice began to sound unpleasant, my fists grabbed the sheets to contain that rage, that madness with which, surely those stupid Gods, cursed me at birth.

“(Y/N),” I said in a whisper, putting a hand on your shoulder, one that you slowly removed. “Hey, tesoro…”

“Wait a minute, Donna, why are you so impatient?” you said with disgust, moving away from me.

I had been putting up with that contempt for too long.

“Shut up!” I shouted nervously, getting up from the bed with a grunt. “Stop praying!”

“What's wrong with you?” you asked, getting up from the floor and rubbing your knees. “Have you gone crazy?”

“Yes, yes, you're driving me crazy, (Y/N),” I hissed, pointing at her with my finger. “I've tried to ignore it, I really have,” I said, approaching you in a threatening, dangerous way.

“Let's see…” you sighed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. I hate when you do that, honey, I hate when you take me for a stupid crazy woman. I, am, your Goddess. “What's got into you now?”

“Don't treat me like a fool…” I hissed again, getting even closer, grabbing the collar of her dress roughly. “I'm not a fool…”

“You look like it, Donna, come on, be a good girl, let me go, you're going to spoil my dress,” you said, struggling with my grip.

Your scared eyes are my weakness. I couldn't help but obey you immediately.

“I'm sorry,” I murmured, smoothing your dress again, being able to regret having done it. “No, I'm not sorry.”

“What?” you asked frowning. “Donna…” you growled.

“I'm sick of putting up with this, (Y/N) of you humiliating me like that,” I said, threatening again, but keeping my hands off your clothes.

“No one is humiliating you, Donna, it's all your imagination,” you said in a slightly softer tone, bringing a trembling hand to my cheek. “Shh, darling... My love...”

“How can you say that?” I asked nervously again, pushing your hand away with a sharp blow. “Are you laughing at me? You think that by saying nice things to me you can fix everything, right?”

“I don't even know what's wrong with you,” you sighed desperately, stepping back, scared.

Gods are feared, right?

“If you like Mother Miranda that much... Go ahead, go with her, let her do all the things I do to you, I'm sure that's what you're wishing for,” I whispered, looking away, feeling a cold breeze on my body.

My blouse was unbuttoned, but what I really felt was the coldness of my heart.

“Of course…” you said with a sufficient smile, snorting with a mocking gesture. “Forget about your stupid jealousy. I've told you a thousand times that the devotion I feel for her has nothing to do with what I feel for you.”

“Devotion…” I sighed, looking at the ceiling, controlling my anger and my carnal desires as much as I could. “Devotion?! She doesn't deserve your devotion!”

“Who says that? You?” you answered, apparently calm. “I can't believe you think that way about the woman who made you the way you are now, who named you Lord, her daughter… Donna, don't you understand that I adore Mother Miranda? Don't you understand everything she's done for us? For me?”

“For you? What has Miranda done for you, huh?” I asked in a more dangerous tone, grabbing you by the shoulders with a look that wanted to be scary, but was pathetic.

I was lost.

 “I'm the only one who takes care of you! I'm the one who allows you not to work because you live with my money! I'm the one who puts a fucking plate on the table every day! I'm the only one who loves you, who treats you the way you deserve! It's me, (Y/N), do you understand? Me!”

“Donna,” you sighed, moving away from my hold with a strange, thoughtful look. “Honey, you never talk like that…”

“I'm sick of you thinking Miranda is your Goddess… Sick, do you hear me? She has no right to be idolized, to be prayed to! The only one you should be praying to is… Me!” I finally shouted, making my voice echo off the old walls, making an uncomfortable silence fall on our shoulders.

“Donna…” you murmured after a few terrible moments, guiding your hand to my cheek, wiping away a tear that came out due to my anger, due to my irrational fury. “Gods… Y-You’re right…”

“Cosa?” I asked, shaking my head. I thought my ears were betraying me, but that didn’t seem to be true. “W-What…?”

“It's true... You, you've done so many things for me...” you sighed with a relaxed smile, getting closer to me. “Forgive me, Donna, I didn't want you to think that Mother Miranda is better,”

“Um, yes... Okay,” I said confused, looking away, but enjoying your caresses.

The darkness which had me trapped wandered freely through my mind, my eye traveled over your body.

“I promise I'll pray less, okay?” you said with a sweet voice.

My gaze hardened, letting the shadows control it, controlling the hand that grabbed your hair tightly without hurting you, or so I like to think.

“Uh, hey...” you said laughing at my abrupt attitude, at the way my nails dug into your waist as I dragged you towards me.

“I don't want you to pray less, (Y/N),” I whispered, getting close to your ear, sinking my teeth into your skin, pulling your head so your neck was exposed. “I want you to pray… To me…”

“What…? What do you mean?” you asked with a broken tone, nervous because of the tickling of my lips on your skin, because of the strength of my hand tangled in your hair.

My demons sketched a smile on my face and my mind saw that forbidden, repressed dream getting closer and closer.

“On your knees,” I whispered with a cold voice, with a proud, cocky one, typical of the Goddess that I was, of the Goddess that I wanted to be for you. “Get on your knees!” I shouted when your gaze remained confused and your head moved from side to side.

You screamed, but not in an unpleasant way. I helped your body to go down to the desired place, at my feet, on your knees before me, where you had to be.

“Okay…” you sighed, arching your eyebrows, biting your lip.

Did you know what was going to happen? I doubt it.

“Worship me, (Y/N), show me your words are sincere, that I am your only Goddess,” I ordered you, pulling your head so your lips rested on my skin and began to kiss it.

You obeyed like a good girl, without complaint, panting from the impression, but comfortable with the situation. That only made me want you more.

Your kisses were soft, hot but demure, as if you were really kissing something sacred. I enjoyed the vision of having you worshiping me, of being able to feel all the things I imagined every night. It was much more incredible than I thought, much more.

“Pray,” I said softly, with a gentle tug on your hair. I wanted to feel your lips moving on my skin, I wanted to feel the vibrations of your praises on my belly, close, very close to me.

“Great ones…” you began with a nervous voice, not letting your kisses cool my desire, running your tongue over my skin.

“No, not that one, silly,” I said amused, pushing you away from my body. “I want you to pray to me, come on…”

“I don't know any prayers…” you said nervously but with an anxious gleam in your eyes, one that made my evil smile widen.

“Then use your mouth for something useful…” I whispered, bending down to kiss you briefly, to pull your lower lip with desire, but not letting you enjoy it.

Oh, (Y/N) that night wouldn't be for you. That night was only for me.

You nodded, with the look I was looking for so many times while you were praying… My hand went through the black fabric of my skirt, running over the bulge that had already formed on it, caressing it, watching your reaction, how your body trembled when you saw it.

“Do you want it, (Y/N)?” I asked, playing, grabbing my shaft over the fabric, showing you how you made me feel and how I liked being your Goddess…

You nodded again, scratching my legs, letting me see for myself how much that situation excited you.

“Beg me, (Y/N),” I hissed, bringing you closer to my hidden erection, making you feel desperate to reach it, to give me the pleasure I deserved. “Ask me to let you worship me…”

“Please, Donna…” you whispered, kissing me over the dress. Something I didn't ask you for, but I couldn't deny you. The warmth of your lips was all I needed.

“Donna? Wrong, tesoro…” I laughed amused, pulling your hair in reprimand. “I’m your Goddess, (Y/N), don't forget that…”

“M-My Goddess, please let me worship you… Let me…praise you…” you whispered, bringing your mischievous hands to the edge of my skirt.

I moaned in satisfaction, controlling my own desire. That was what I wanted. What do you think, Miranda? She'll never do that to you…

Happy to please you, I released my erection, being quickly caressed by your lips, watched by your eyes, which this time didn't seem to want to close. Your mouth approached slowly, but you knew you couldn't play with me, you shouldn't.

Your tongue ran slowly over my skin, making me moan embarrassingly and your hand joined in the fun when I was completely inside your mouth.

“Così buono…” I gasped, daring to close my eye, to control your head with my hand while your mouth embraced me intensely, while your tongue played with the tip, making my legs tremble.

I didn't want to seem weak, and I scolded you with a tug on your hair. None of that seemed to make you stop.

“You're so perfect, Donna…” you whispered, calling my attention. My hips played on their own, moving to adapt to your kisses, to your playful tongue taking me to the edge. “I've been stupid… You're my only Goddess…”

“Don't forget it, tesoro…” I said calmer, moaning when your movements continued, when your mouth embraced my erection, sucking it slowly while your hand moved it at will.

“She'll never love you like I do, do you understand?” I asked, trying to distract myself, with the darkness coming back to torment me again. “She would never let… Cazzo…”

“I know, my love… I know,” you whispered, tickling my skin, resuming your kisses, trying to keep up with the increasingly frenetic rhythm of my hips.

“Okay, that's enough,” I said suddenly, on the verge of my release.

No, (Y/N), it wasn't going to end there. Your face covered with me wasn't enough at that moment. I needed something else. I needed to possess you forever, to take you by my grace, by the glory of the one who would always be your Goddess. Me, only me.

“You are delicious…” you whispered with a wet moan. “I want to release you, my Goddess, I want to taste you.”

“You ask for too much, tesoro… I'm not a merciful Goddess…” I said amused, lifting you up roughly and pushing you against the bed.

You moaned in surprise at my roughness, but my hands kept you from turning around. You had no right to look at me. I wasn't going to let you do that.

Without waiting for a response or any protest, I lifted your dress and pulled down your underwear while spanking you, making you squirm. That was just what I had imagined.

“Che bagnata sei…” I whispered in your ear, leaning over you as my fingers ran through your wet folds. Your words could lie, but your body couldn’t. It adored me, needed me…

Without the gentleness with which I usually took you, I introduced my erection inside of you. Your walls were overwhelmed at first and your mouth emitted a moan of pain that I ignored.

“So… big…” you murmured with a moan that bathed my ears, that gave me the silent permission I needed to continue, to move without asking and for your tight entrance to hold me tightly, to worship me…

“Everything I do, I do it for you, amore mio… You, just have to… Remember… Who you belong to…” I moaned at the same time as my hips moved carelessly.

“Gods Donna, you, only to you,” you moaned when your body began to move on its own as well, joining the thrusts of my hips.

My hands scratched your skin, marking it as theirs forever. There would never be anyone else in your life, only me. You would pray to me, you would worship me, only I would exist in your life. You would be much more than my maid. You would be mine, forever.

Spilling my seed inside you was much more pleasurable than other times. It was a sign, an explosion of unmatched pleasure, an act of darkness and passion, a fierce desire to be part of you, for you to always have me.

“Oh, Donna…” you said, catching your breath, moving, making the wet mixture of your entrance slide down your legs, becoming the most beautiful vision of my life.

“I don't want to hear you pray to anyone but me, do you understand?”

[clovdgyu]

#xavier x m!reader #smut, fluff #xavier, my bb boi. must protect

#cr sex, creampie, breeding kink, xavier is kinky

#who knew someone with an innocent face like xavier's was actually so wild in bed

when you and your boyfriend, xavier, started dating, it was as if heaven was listening to your prayers. i mean, he was literally your crush for years since your freshman year! he was such an eye candy, always caught your attention whenever he happens to walk by.

imagine the surprised look on your face when (during your sophomore year) he suddenly sat in front of you at the cafeteria, a shy smile on his face as he scratched his nape. you thought he was just alone (totally unusual) but he confessed to you, telling you he's loved you since freshman year.

and now you're in your senior year, almost 2 years into your relationship. students envy your "pinterest-like" relationship, you were literally almost the whole university's talk.

having the whole university's attention on you was quite a big pressure, but you grew accustomed to it as time went by. when you are dating someone as handsome and pure like xavier, you knew getting the eyes of many was bound to happen.

currently, you were at a minor class that you shared with xavier, him holding onto your hands as you used your unoccupied hand to jot down notes. xavier was always one for physical touch and clinginess. it's honestly cute when he always used to ask for your permission back when you two started.

"xavier, you don't need to ask for my permission to hold my hand or kiss me. you can just do it when ever you want."

"alright. then i'll hold your hand now."

when the class ended, the white-haired male hurriedly sat up from his seat and grabbed your bags. ah, he's in a hurry. you thought, blushing upon realizing what was bound to happen.

well, you see, during your anniversary, xavier told you about his fantasies when it comes to sex albeit shlyly. after hearing them, you vowed to make them all reality and one fantasy was about to happen. your boyfriend was somehow kinky and wild.

he's told you how he always wanted to have sex in oublic, out in the open, bondage, bdsm, puppy play, etc. and now, his fantasy of 'having sex in the bathroom's university' is about to happen.

as to not cause suspicion to the other students, you both walked slowly towards the bathroom. even when you tried to be subtle, it was clear as hell how xavier was blushing from his ears to his cheeks.

as soon as you both entered the comfort room, xavier closed and locked the door before pinning you on the door, breathing heavily. "are you sure about this, m/n? i don't want you to regret this after."

you smiled assuringly and nodded your head. "of course, xavier. i may have always wanted to have bathroom sex as well."

-----

although xavier locked the cr door, he still insisted on having sex inside a stall saying that 'it's more sexier this way'. not having it in you to reject him, you agreed and entered a stall anyway.

now, he has you bent down against the toilet, showing him your ass as he fingered your hole. "i've already entered three of my fingers, babe. how does it feel?" he asked you, eyes looking up as he looked at your back that continued to rise and fall.

"g-good. feels good, xavier," you moaned out, head hung low as you tried to suppress your moans, not wanting anyone to hear you. sure the door is locked, but who's to say that nobody is eavesdropping on you two? "w-wait, xavier! y-you keep focusing on my good spot."

said male smiled and stopped his movement. "well this is meant to make you feel good, baby. do you not like it?" he asked you before going back to fingering your hole, squelching noises now audible over the whole comfort room. "hm?"

you hummed, "n-no. i like it, but..." you stated, gulping before you looked behind you and looked at xavier who did the same, a brush of red evident on his cheeks. "i want something bigger."

oh, how xavier loved seeing you beg. seeing you want him, how you need his big dick inside you this instant. but he wanted to tease you before giving you exactly what you want. "bigger? i don't seem to get what you're trying to say, m/n. can you be more specific or else i wouldn't be able to give you what you need."

a small gasp left your lips as xavier's fingers brush against your prostate. "quit teasing me. you know what i--ah--already want, please," you begged, eyes becoming hazy as you're starting to lose grip on your own sanity. "xavier~"

the white-haired male hummed as he continued to fuck your hole with his fingers, making it know that he was indeed teasing you. "i'm sorry, babe, but if you don't tell me exactl what you need right now, i might not be able to give it to you. so can you be more specific?"

feeling your face warm-up in embarrassment, you looked away from him and mentally prepared yourself. you always knew how your boyfriend loved seeing you beg for his cock. "i want your b-big cock, xavier. please, i want my ass to feel your dick, pound me until i can no longer walk."

satisfied (and obviously turned on), xavier removed his finger from your ass then the condom that he used to finger your ass. you whimpered at the sudden loss whilst xavier admired the way your puckered hole clenched onto nothing. "that's it, baby. well, since you did good, i will give you what you need."

you could hear how the said male undid his pants, now on his feet before pulling his boxers a bit, enough to free his cock form its restraints. he inserted his cock in between your cheeks, which earned him a yelp from you. xavier let out a pleasured sigh as he rubbed his cock in between your ass. "xavier," you begged, pre-cum leaking from your own cock.

the white-haired male hummed as he held onto your waist, rubbing himself harder on your cheeks as he closed his eyes in ecstasy, head tilted backwards a little. "this feels so good, baby. can't wait to fuck your ass," he stated before he pulled out a condom from his jacket's pocket and ripped it open.

just as xavier was about to place the rubber on his dick, you spoke up. "c-can we do it without a condom? i...i want to feel your cum inside me."

it was as if a switch has clicked inside xavier's body before he threw the condom away and held onto your hips tightly, aligning his cock against your hole. "are you sure about this, m/n?" he asked you. now words were needed when you answered him with a nod. "you don't mind if i go a little rough on you, right? i'm really turned on right now."

you looked back up at him and nodded. "i-i don't mind. it's alright. i kind of want you to be rough on me," you answered him. the male answered you with a small nod before entering the tip of his cock inside you. you gasped at the size of his cock, it was so big. no matter how many time you two fucked, you could never get used to the size of xavier's cock.

hearing you wince, the boy stopped and checked on you. "are you okay?"

you nodded at him. "yes, don't stop. i want to feel your cock inside me now," you stated.

it was already clear as crystal that you were already desperate, wanting him to fuck your ass hard. he wasted no more time on finally driving his cock deep inside you, making you feel full. a loud moan escaped your mouth as you felt the huge tip of his cock brush against your prostate.

what xavier failed to notice was that you came hard, spurts came after spurts, landing in the toilet as you clenched onto his cock, eyes rolled back as you quivered in pleasure. "x-xavier, w-wait," you begged once you felt him move inside you. "s-slow dow--AH! WAIT!"

the other male began to fuck your hole a little too harshly, making you see stars as you felt your knees buckle. luckily, xavier held onto you tightly before he pulled you up, hands traveling below your jacket, tracing your torso before stopping on your chest. you threw your head back in pleasure, loud moans and satisfied groans echoing through the whole comfort room.

he began to nip on your neck as he played with your nipples, your eyes beginning to get clouded as tears began to pool on it at the constant pleasure you received by xavier's cock. "baby, your hole feels so good. so warm, so tight. i'm never wearing a condom when i'm fucking you."

"sho good, fuck! oh holy shit, you're making my ass feel so good, xavier," you moaned out as you held onto the other male's biceps, his index fingers playing with your erect nipples as he began to place marks on your neck and below your jaw as if he was branding you. "xa...vier, oh god."

the aforementioned hummed as he fucked you harder, making you feel his cock deep inside you. "you hole is so delicious, babe," xavier whispered into your ear as he pulled on your nipples using his index and thumb. wanting to mask out you your voice, you turned your head towards him and initiated a kiss.

with both your eyes closed, you basked in each other's warmth. the way his cock entered and exited your ass, how he fucked you so deep and hard was enough to put you on edge. you could already feel that familiar coil in your stomach yet again as xavier kissed you, swirling his own tongue with yours as you opened your mouth to give him entrance.

tears finally fell down your eyes as the constant abuse on your prostate overstimulated you. the pleasure you were feeling was overwhelming your senses that you could barely remember what happened minutes ago or where you are. all you could think about right now as how good xavier was making you feel with his dick. "xavier, 'bout to cum," you announced, albeit mumbled because of his lips on yours.

"it's alright, baby. you can cum anytime you want," he answered before lunging his lips on your again. wanting to make you feel more pleasure, he began to fuck you deeper, to the point where his thighs started to slap against your butt, skin slapping now even more audible than seconds ago.

wet noises begin to emit from where you were connected, both your lips now red at how intense you two kissed. "oh god, oh god! i'm cumming, i'm cumming!" you shouted, a pleasured moan exiting your lips as you threw your head back, coming. white ropes exiting your cock as it shoots upwards at the intensity, some of it hitting your face and onto your clothes. "s-slow down! i just came!"

your pleas fell on deaf ears as xavier continued to fuck you, overstimulating you. "i-i can't. i'm about to cum as well. you're just too hot," he stated, breath heavy as he chased his own high. you could feel his cock grow bigger inside you and how his thrusts became faster. "want me to cum inside you, m/n? wnat me to breed you?"

you nodded, moaning a bit too loudly as saliva dripped down your mouth, cockdrunk and fucked dumb as you clenched onto his dick, trying to get him to cum sooner. "i'm going to paint your boy pussy white, baby. do you want that?" xavier whispered in your ears as he drove his cock deeper inside you. "i need words, baby."

"y-yes! yes, cum. i need your cum inside me, xavier. please!" you shouted, both of you moaning as you helped your boyfriend chase his own high. you could feel he was getting close, judging by how his thrusts become inconsistent and how his breathing became heavy.

"hah, baby. m/n, i'm gonna cum inside you," xavier announced before he landed a few more thrusts inside you then stilled inside you. "cumming!" he shouted, moaning as he came inside you. you could feel his cum cover your walls white, how some of the excess cum dribbled down outside your hole. maybe it was too much for you, but you fell limp in xavier's arms and fell asleep.

a little while later, you woke up. you adjusted your eyes to the light before sitting up, rubbing your eyes and looking around to find xavier. "xavier?" you called out in a whisper, the mentioned male humming as he appeared next to you. "did i pass out again?"

your boyfriend nodded before he sat beside you. "you did. was i being to harsh on you? i guess i was, i'm sorry," he apologized. you could already see how dropping puppy ears appear on top of his head as he pursed his lips. "i should be more gentle next time."

you chuckled. "then maybe we should build up more stamina for me? that way, i won't be falling asleep every time we're finished, yeah?"

the other male smiled as he engulfed you in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the crown of your head and chuckled. "you really are the best boyfriend ever."

[lily-lovelyy]

Distance

Warnings: age gap, pure smut, smut with no plot, sub!Konig, a bit of fluff at the end, fem! Reader, daddy kink, period!smut, somnophelia, ect.

Konig looked down to you, pupils blown out and breath heaving, breaking apart your heated kiss, he looked almost pitiful, you felt sorry for him, as you knew you would deny him sex since your goddamn period decided to visit right before he got home from his two month deployment.

"Ko..." You whispered, looking up at him, sympathy all over your face "Maus." He answered, caressing your cheek with his large hand. "I know how pent up you are, but we'll have to wait a few more days, maybe a week until we can do anything..." You told your husband. He looked confused, a little bit like a kicked puppy when you said this, his hand pulling away from you.

"I started my period yesterday, Konig." You sighed, grabbing his hand from him. "Maus...you know I don't care about a little blood..." He tilted his head sideways at you. Of course you knew this, he practically lived in blood on his missions. "Yes but it makes me nervous, let me just make you some tea, Ko." He sighed, to exhausted to negotiate with you and nodded, letting you seat him at the kitchen as you filled a pot with water.

~★★~~★★~

You felt a prod against your side, and looked over to your husband, your eyes heavy. "K-ko?" You whispered sleepily, not even realizing his cock was slid between your thighs, resting against your pussy. You gasped as he thrusted slightly, signaling he wanted inside. You whined and tried to pull away slightly, but to no avail as Konig grabbed your hips, keeping you in place as he moved his hips closer to you, the red tip of his cock moving against your oh so sensitive clit, causing you to whine.

You moaned as he whimpered in your ear, incoherent moans of "please" coming out of his mouth in his native tongue. You nodded, allowing him to slowly push into your weeping cunt, a gasp left your mouth, leaving your mouth gaping open as he filled you. "Ko-Koni-ah!" You cried out, grabbing onto his forearm, your clit already throbbing as the pad of his thumb pressed against it.

Konig was big, at least more than 7 inches, though you'd never measured. "Mmm maus." He whined, his hips slowly thrusting into you. Konig was embarrassed, he hadn't even been inside for you that long and he knew that shortly he would cum. Two months of only using his spit covered hand would do that to him.

"Maus!" He cried out as you climbed on top of him, slowly sinking back down onto his cock, his eyes widening and hands gripping your hips, the mental thought of you bleeding on him far away as you were already to fucked out to care. You whined, and bounced on his cock, going to quickly for Konig to keep up. "Maus, maus, if you keep going I'll c-cum already!" He moaned, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

You nodded as a grin sat on your lips, rolling your lips between your teeth. Bouncing even more feverishly now, Konig whined, grabbing your hips tighter, you knew you would bruise later. You gasped when Konig's finger made it's way to your clit, toying with it in the way you loved the best.

You cried out as you felt your walls clench, you were already embarrassingly close, your orgasm already coiling in your stomach, Konig moaned and grabbed a tit in his hand, running the pad of his thumb against it, making you cry out, your nipples already sore and sensitive from the hormones.

You gasped loudly as Konig pushed down on your tummy, your g-spot hitting the tip of his cock at the perfect angle, making you cum, clenching down on his almost painfully as you whined his name, almost like a damn prayer. Riding your orgasm out on him, you clenched again.

Konig whined, grabbing your hips and moving you slightly back, shooting up as you clenched around him, the coil in his stomach snapping as he came inside you, you gasped and cried out as you felt him cum inside you, whining in protest. "Konig!" You gasped, he let his face rest in your tits. "I-i'm sorry love, I couldn't help it you're so warm and it's been so long..." He whined, not being able to look up at you. "Ko I don't care about that." You sighed, stroking his hair.

He looked up at you, kissing you with nothing but love. You kissed back, letting your hands knot in his hair. He moaned into you, flipping you under him and kissing down your neck "My turn to please you maus."

A/N, sorry if it's short and shitty, this is my first Konig smut I've written, if you have a request feel free to DM me!

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

So you want to write about a Jewish Ed Teach - a quick guide to writing a Jewish man of color, by a Jewish moc

Given Taika Waititi is Jewish, I am always so happy when I see fanfic authors writing about Ed being Jewish! We need more Jewish poc rep and I'm always happy to see it. That being said, I've also seen a lot of misunderstandings, so I wanted to to write up a few quick guidelines.

Disclaimer: I'm just one Jew with an opinion, and this is based on my own experiences! I'd love if other Jews, especially other Jews of color, in the fandom would like to chime in with their thoughts as well!

It is possible to be a Jewish athiest! Judaism is membership in a people, and belief in g-d is not required (and, in my community, it's even considered a very personal question!). Some of the most observant Jews I know are athiests; belief in g-d and level of Jewish observance are not directly correlated. Cannot overstate how common it is for Jews to not believe in g-d or go back and forth on the question.

On that note, there are different levels of Jewish observance. Every individual is different, but in general there's Orthodox (very strict), and then, way on the other side, there's Reform and Conservative (Conservative does not equal politically Conservative). Conservative and Reform are very similar, except the Conservative movement tends to be more observant of traditional Jewish law and uses a lot more Hebrew. If you live in an area without a lot of Jews (like where I live!), it's very common for Reform and Conservative movements to have a lot of overlap and collaborate on a lot of stuff together.

Not every Jew keeps Kosher, or keeps Kosher to the same level of strictness.

Synagogue services are not like Christian services, especially outside of holiday services. Ordinary Saturday morning services are often more like a group conversation as we try to work new meaning out of the Torah. The B'Nei Mitzvah, the big ceremony that marks a kid being old enough to participate fully in Jewish life, is more like "baby's first thesis defense" than anything else! There have literally been pauses in services I've attended before as someone ran to the temple library to check their sources.

Not all Jews speak Hebrew. Some Jews might not know any, some might be able to stumble through the more important prayers, some might be able to sight-read okay, some might only know religious words but not modern words, some might be fluent! Just about any level of proficiency is believable.

Ed's got a lot of tattoos! Tattoos are a big traditional Jewish no-no, but (again!) different movements and different Jews have their own opinions. I know a Conservative tattoo artist! It's not something that other Jews would comment on (unless they're just assholes) and it wouldn't make anyone kick him out of synagogue services (no joke, I read that in a fic once).

Hannukah is not the only (or even the most important) Jewish holiday; it's just the one most non-Jews know about. The two biggest holidays are Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. I think Ed's favorite holidays would be Purim (you get to wear costumes and put on plays!) and Passover (retelling of a story along with a big meal!).

Depending on the area and the Jewish demographic, Jews of color can sometimes feel uncomfortable in our own community, especially when other Jews automatically assume we must be converts. While this is a real issue, it is not something I want to read authors who aren't themselves Jews of color write about because it is a deeply inter-Jewish issue.

Depending on the community you grow up in, religious trauma isn't as common with queer Jews as it is with queer Christians. The Reform movement has been advocating for queer Jews since the 1960s (you read that right, yes). I'm not saying there are no queer Jews who have religious trauma, I'm just saing it's a lot less common, and I have always felt immediately accepted as queer in Jewish spaces.

The inverse is not true. Queer spaces are not always accepting of Jews (or of people of color, a double whammy!).

A few stereotypes to avoid: Jews are often stereotyped as being greedy and corrupt. Jewish kids are bullied by Christian kids because "we killed Jesus," when I was ten I had another kid ask to "see my horns." Always avoid comparing Ed directly to animals, especially rodents.

If you're a non-Jew looking to write about a Jewish Ed, I recommend doing some research. MyJewishLearning is a great website that's very accessible.

Every Jew interacts with our Judaism differently, so if you're writing a Jewish Ed, please take a moment to think about what it means for him! Membership in a community? Calming traditions that remind him of home, family, and community? A point of pride - we're a resilient lot! Even just a note in his background that he's not as connected to as he might like to be?

[tainted-liquor]

𓇼𓈒ㅤׂHow Curious... 𓆉 [4.11.23] - ft. Miles G. Morales 𓆡 genre: fluff, part 2 of Sea Grillz!

What a liar.

Two years ago, you met a human. A beautiful, beautiful human who promised that he would come back and visit you. You waited around the coral for months, breaching the surface of the freshwater haven every now and again to see if the familiar red metal cargo ship ever showed up again. You kept that piece of soft cotton fabric wrapped tightly around your gills in hopes that one day the boy would remember you and come back. What was his name again? Prowler?

You zoomed through the warm currents of the 'Big Lagoon', otherwise known as the Caribbean Sea by the surface dwellers in search of some new findings at the bottom of the ocean. Your tail eagerly jerked through the waves, propelling you forward with the force of a bullet train as you scanned the ocean floor for any new finds. You had somewhat of a collection; a brass hand mirror, several giant beady 'pearls' of some sort, silky gloves, and a plethora of coins from all ages and times. It was dark, barely visible as your eyes struggled to pick out every minor detail due to the lack of sunlight. But truth be told, you only had one thing in mind as you glided through the pure water.

You breached the surface, hair falling along your shoulders as your beautiful coral and shell necklace rested against your collarbone. You looked up at the warm skyline, losing yourself in the vibrant shades of orange, pink, and yellow that decorated the world and illuminated your skin. You raised a hand out of the warmth of the ocean, watching as your skin morphed from a pale blue to your natural melanated tone. Your jewelry consisted of pearls, small shells, your swamp blue scales that you lost along the way, and solid diamonds that shimmered on the horizon. It was perfect; no humans to disturb the mesmerizing crash of the waves or the blue tint of the water.

You felt for your cold neck, grazing your soft fingertips over the ripped piece of cotton wrapped around your neck. A sense of melancholy suddenly filled your mind, missing the man that appeared before you and swept you off your fins. You looked around the bare ocean, whispering a silent prayer to whatever may be listening. Oshun? Ikatere? Whoever ears it fell upon, you'd hope they'd hear you.

"Please come back tomorrow..."

You bowed your head before darting back under the deep blue, blazing through the current with no other goal than to get home safely. It was hard to describe this feeling of grief. Maybe it was the promise he muttered that remained broken, or maybe it was his sense of style with those iron-clad claws and shiny teeth. He hadn't left your mind since he sailed away, but you sure left his. You cozied up next to the soft pink anemone, allowing its tentacles to flick and wave at your nose.

The ocean surface went from gentle pinks obscured by ripples of water to pitch black. The inky sky glowed with speckles of stars as you laid back on your lively 'pillow', gently running your fingers through the rough nylon of the rope attached to your waist. You thought to yourself for a moment, dancing over the buttery kapa fabric that covered your chest. It was just like every other night, staring at the water's edge while you attempted to lull yourself to sleep. But there was a sudden urge for you to get up and swim out far east.

You gasped, hopping up at the speed of light, tail twitching with an unfamiliar sensation. Your iridescent scales glimmered under the moon...something was nagging you to swim east. So what did you do? Swam as far right as you could.

"Tú en mi cama..." Miles muttered, deep purple Prowler mask glimmering in the moonlight as music flooded his brain. He knew he was stupid for sailing out in the middle of the sea for no reason, but he had to see that pretty little mermaid again. The one with the big beady eyes and the baby-soft skin, yeah. That one. It had been two years since he last saw that face, and you've been burned into his brain ever since. So now here he was, out in the middle of the sea as his new watch spewed out coordinates for him to follow.

Still in that same red cargo ship he stole two years prior, he sped out into the uncharted waters in pursuit of the woman with the blue skin. and the perfect scales. It was a dark and eery atmosphere as he voyaged forward. The ghostly hue of the moonlight led him forward, serving as his candle in the abyss. The ocean shimmered, each wave highlighted by the fluorescent white as Miles put the engine in reverse and allowed the boat to bob above the water.

He stepped away from the helm of the ship, his heavy-duty boots making a loud thudding sound against the deck as he swung both legs against the railing. He hummed along to the reggaeton music that was blasting through his headphones and took another glance over the sea line. His twin braids swayed gently with the low whistling of the wind, as the cold air kissed every inch of Miles' exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Everything seemed to follow a pattern; the waves would flow and crash against the ship, and the wind would puppeteer his braids. Until there was a familiar deviation in the water.

You darted forward, ducking and weaving between corral, debris, and anything that stood in your way as judgment guided you forward. You passed by the little crabs and gave a couple pats to some adorable Mahi-Mahi before you saw it; the strange shadow you were met with long ago. Your eyes widened with hope and adoration, making no effort to conceal your presence as you breached the surface. "Hey!" You shouted upon seeing the familiar purple glow from some sort of mask. The small white eyes widened, glitching from their regular slits to tiny hearts as you swam closer towards the ship.

"Oh, shit-...Chiquita! ¿Cómo has estado? I missed you!" He shouted, lowering down some sort of boat attached to some ropes that he gestured for you to climb into. You held on to the edge of the smaller wooden boat, lifting yourself up with all your strength as you plopped down onto the rickety oak. He hoisted you up, using all his strength to pull you up on the deck with him. The floor of the ship was freezing cold, floorboards creaking under the added body weight as you flopped on the ground. You lifted yourself up on the palms of your hands, coming face-to-face with the strange 'prowler' once again.

"Where have you been! I've been waiting for you for...for...forever! You said you'd be back!" You shouted, wasting no time as your sopping hands grazed over his exposed arms. His skin was cold to the touch and littered with goosebumps as you attempted to take off his mask, earning a low chuckle from the boy in front of you. He grabbed your wrist, gently moving your hands away from his face as he went to speak. "How often do you think I can boat out to the middle of the ocean? Hmm?" He asked, his tone laced with gentle sarcasm and slight heartbreak. He really did want to come back sooner, but time has never been a friend of Miles.

"I see you found more jewelry," he commented, gently taking your glimmering hand in his as he examined the diamonds, aquamarine, gold, and blue calcite that decorated your knuckles. You were worth millions...fins or no fins, you had a killer jewel collection that could fund an entire generation's college ride. Miles sat on the floor so he could be at eye level with you, pulling you in his lap as he collapsed his retractable mask. "I got jewels too," he mumbled, before opening his mouth just enough for you to see the shimmery glint of...teeth jewelery?

Your eyes widened, pupils dilating as you leaned forward to get a good look at his mouth. His sharp canines were covered by a silver outline, while his bottom teeth were lined with what looked like pure diamonds as you ran your fingertips against the smooth metal. "This is...wow," you sighed, admiring the sparkling gems as Miles smirked at your reaction. "This is called a grill," He muttered, closing his jaws before you made an attempt to put your head in his mouth. You nodded, still processing his flashy sense of style as he scanned over your ethereal garments and figure.

"So what y'all be doin' down there? What's it like on the ocean floor?" Miles asked, gently kissing the thenar of your palm as your hand came to caress his face. You thought for a minute, letting the cold wind blow against your frostbit skin. "It's dark...I mean, I have angler fish! But other than the dark, it's very cozy," You shrugged, hands dancing across his black cotton turtle neck. "It's got a lot of cool things, and a lot of coins. Definitely a lot of coins..." You chuckled, feeling the soaked fabric trickle water down the nape of your neck.

"Damn...New York is never dark," Miles laughed. His laugh was cold and hollow, but oddly comforting as he fixed your makeshift 'waist beads' made out of a piece of rope. He took your face in his cold, and rough hands as he admired your perfection. He'd never seen such a pretty girl in his life, and she was miles away out at sea. Your button nose perfectly complimented your full, two-toned lips. Whoever invented that fuckass 'Phi' system was wrong, YOU were the most beautiful girl in the world; with your glimmering scales, flashy gems, and gorgeous eyes.

He wanted to take you back with him and keep you all to himself, so the greed of the world could never reach out and take from you like they took from him. But deep down he knew there wasn't a place for you in his world. He placed a cold, comforting kiss on your collarbone as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "C'mon, tell me about what you did while I was gone," Miles chuckled, hoisting you up as he waltzed toward the helm of the ship. He wanted his conscience to narrate his thoughts in your voice, that thick islander accent and velvety tone talking to him about his own moves.

You talked his ear off for hours, sitting pretty on his lap while he learned all about Aycayia culture, what you eat in a day, and how prevalent 'rare' gems are in the deep blue sea. He didn't care that he was soaked from head to toe, or that he was losing feeling in his legs the longer you stayed on his lap. He just wanted to hold you for a little bit longer as you mindlessly fiddled with his silver chain. His hands gently caressed your hair before reaching into his back pocket to pull out a small pinkish purple metal 'watch'. "I gotta go, I'm so sorry..." he muttered, attaching it to your wrist as the futuristic bracelet emitted a soft glow.

Your head cocked to the side, trying to make sense of the strange device. "This will show me your coordinates. Don't lose it. I'm gonna bring you with me one day, I promise," He mumbled, holding you as close as possible. The wind sang a song of melancholy, the ocean coming to a still as you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. You wanted him to stay, to tell you more stories of his life as 'The Prowler'. You hated the idea of not seeing him for another two years, tears pricking at your waterline as you smushed your cheek against his.

"I really...really love you. Please don't take too long...?" You whispered, the top half of your body hanging off the rim of the ship.

"...I love you too."

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x  @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc @al3xwqz @l0starl

[justanamesstuff]

Chapter 1

Seasons

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: Hiii guys, I'm so nervous for this BUT very excited too!! I hope you like it <3

Warnings: swearing a bit?, typos maybe.

Word count: 3 K

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

Every season has its colours, has its smells, has its traditions. Like every season, this love has its particularities…

Around November of 2020, England

“Matty- Oh my god!!“ 

The constant banging on her wall and the high-pitched moaning at the other side woke Y/n up. Quickly, she took her pillow and placed it on top of her face, trying to muffle the horrible sounds reaching her ears. ‘God, is she having a good time? Or he’s killing her?’, the thought crossed the girl's mind. 

Most of the time they weren’t that loud, but during that morning they just seemed to not care.

It was useless, the sounds were getting louder and louder. Y/n couldn’t bear with it any more and knowing that even if they –luckily– stopped she wouldn’t come back to sleep. So, Y/n decided to go downstairs. Maybe one of the guys was making breakfast, which would help with the awful start of her day.

Her prayers weren’t heard. The kitchen was empty and no breakfast was made. She tried to cheer up a little, because Y/n needed to survive the day. To be honest, every day and morning it was getting harder and harder.

After a quiet but long sigh, Y/n started cooking for everyone. Nothing unusual since she tried to do it most of the mornings in exchange for their generosity letting her stay at the boys' studio –which was half Matty’s house as well. Spending the quarantine rent-free with them, listening how they recorded the new album and messing around was a true blessing if she tried to focus on the bright side of everything. 

Well, they kind of forced her because they were very against Y/n spending those months alone in her flat. The boys cared about the girl as a best friend and as a sister too. They were a bunch of drama queens most of the time, but deep down Y/n was enormously grateful with/for them.

Thinking about the first months, Y/n couldn’t deny those were amazing. The entire group spent a lot of quality time, doing the stupidest challenges, doing Instagram lives for the fans, watching a lot of movies, etc. Although everything took a turn when another person joined the party. When Nadia arrived.

It wasn’t like Y/n hated her, in fact, it was the opposite which created a big dilemma for her. Matty’s girlfriend was nice and the idea of having another girl was actually  comforting during the tough times. But Y/n wasn’t so fond of the situation for other reasons.

For a period –a very long one– if you asked her, she endured with it and put on her best –fake– happy face. Y/n’s acting talents were very handy at times. Although, her true feelings were still there, underneath the surface, where no one can notice them. Specially Matty.

 Time went by and the whole thing was making her more anxious, and although the idea of leaving crippled into her mind at every minute, she couldn’t really decide. Y/n didn’t want to leave but watching Matty 24/7 attached to the other girl’s side was taking the best of her mental health.

Y/n’s mind was running fast with thoughts while she cooked, which made her subconsciously ignore the tall man coming down after he heard movement downstairs. George watched his friend move around, knowing more than anyone in the house about her sorrows. George was probably the closest to her out of the four guys. He was the only one who knew all of her secrets and kept it secured as if it was his own.

The drummer stared at her, expecting for Y/n to notice him, but he acknowledged that the girl was in another dimension. She used to do that more than she liked to admit. George could bet ‘the morning moaning festival’ taking place half an hour prior was the main reason.

Y/n finished cooking a big amount of scrambled eggs and turned searching for a plate when she saw George standing in the partially lighted corridor. “Fuck G! You scared the shit out of me!” she exclaimed while resting a hand on her chest.

“Sorry!” the big man shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t mean to scare you, love.” he apologized, approaching his best friend. “Good morning.” he greeted her properly, and she huffed.

“Good morning to you.” Y/n answered sarcastically after G placed a kiss on top of her head. 

“So, you heard, huh?”

“I can’t stand it any more, G.” she let him know. “It’s just a lot.” she continued, lowering her voice scared another of the boys could hear her.

“I know, love.” the drummer said with an apologetic expression. “But the lockdown is nearly over, and y’know none of us would like you to go.” G said as he searched for mugs.

“Why not? It’s my life, my freedom!” Y/n protested, starting to get annoyed. “It’s getting worse every day…” Y/n desperately moved her hands in the air trying to prove her point.

“Believe me… I know!” George searched for her eyes, keeping eye contact when Y/n looked back at him, waiting for his next words. “I’m not in your…situation, but I’m getting a little annoyed too.” G agreed with her.

“Yes, but it’s his house. He can do whatever he wants…”

“I half agree.” G nodded. “This might be his house, but it’s the place we choose as a studio, so for the time being its our place too…yours too!” George continued rambling, filling the mugs with hot water. “So, they need to stop with the noises.”

A comfortable silence fell between them until Y/n broke it again thinking out loud.

“What the hell can I do?” 

“About what?” A third voice came from the hallway. Matty made his entrance wearing a tired expression matching his gray sweatpants and plain shirt. He approached Y/n, leaving her a kiss on her right cheek. “What can you do about what, love?” he rephrased his question. 

“I- It’s nothing — Morning” she said without looking at him, instead walking towards the table bringing a mug with her.

“There must be something. You sounded worried.” Matty insisted.

“It’s something between Y/n and I, mate.” George said in a joking way, trying to distract him. “Something between best pals, you wouldn’t understand it.” he stated, rounding Y/n with his left arm meanwhile he winked at Matty taking a sip of his morning tea.

“Fuck off!” Matty protested. They usually have a competition about the title which Y/n find equally lame and cute. She easily felt the tension leaving her shoulders, relaxing thanks to their stupid discussion, knowing that for now Matty dropped his interrogation.

“Tell him, darling!” G urged her.

“It’s too early for this fight. Shut up and sit. I’ll bring the cutlery.” Y/n said, detaching herself from George. 

“Y/n is just too nice to tell ya, mate. She loves me more.” the singer continued joking, obviously unaware of the real implication of his words.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Matty.” George answered, sitting at his usual spot at the table.

“Who was the beautiful soul that made breakfast?” Ross entered the kitchen and stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes and inhaling dramatically.

“You know the answer.” John teased as he appeared from behind Ross. “You know you don’t have to, Y/n.” the musician approached her and helped with the forks and knives.

“Yes, for the hundred times…I know, John.” she looked at him. “But we all know that I would feel guilty since you all never let me pay for anything.”

“Because you don’t have to pay us, love.” Matty said from his place at the table with his sight fixed on his phone. He and the damn nicknames.

“But- “

“No but’s, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here!” Ross said as they all sat around the table.

They were serving breakfast when the conversation took another direction -something about the coronavirus and all of that. At the same time, the last resident of the house made her entrance.

Y/n sometimes envied her. Matty’s girlfriend always looked immaculate to a point that you could never think she just woke up. Y/n knew comparisons were wrong, but it was hard to avoid them. The girl felt awful: her hair was all tangled in a messy bun on the top of her head; only wearing an old t-shirt -from a not so famous band--and a pair of pyjamas short; and she was not wearing any makeup meanwhile she stuffed her breakfast on her face.

Nadia was all classy and perfect, the opposite of Y/n. Maybe that’s why he chose her and not his best friend. Y/n knew thinking like that was also wrong, yet again she couldn’t help it.

Y/n witnessed how Nadia greeted everyone and sat beside Matty, flashing him a cute smile he returned. They were in love, and it was obvious to everyone. Y/n was so happy for her best friend to find someone who loved him, although for many years she hoped that person would be her. For years, Y/n hoped Matty noticed her more than a mate.

When they first met, Y/n thought she felt a connection different from with anyone else in her life, although that changed quickly. Matty proved to her time and time again he didn’t want a relationship with her or nothing similar no matter how flirty he was during that first night. And Y/n forced herself her mind and heart to believe it.

Y/n was very unaware that, at the time she met the boys, Matty felt the same way she felt, but the old Matty didn’t want to lose the new friend he encountered. As another way to self sabotage himself, the young Matty did almost the impossible to show Y/n they were friends and just friends. A decision he took while being drunk became a life rule.

Since that moment, since that night, their relationship was kind of determinate. They were friends, the best friends. Not that night, but after a while, Y/n became part of the family and even Matty’s family –both sides– loved her as another member of their family. Y/n felt safe and loved, something she cherished so much since she hadn’t had that kind of love back home. Her family wasn’t like them, the opposite in fact.

For the longest time, Y/n tried to ditch her feeling for Matty. Every time a new girl showed up, tugged under his arm, Y/n decided it was the time to stop getting hurt and move on. Even though, her heart couldn’t do it. It hurt her. And with Nadia was the hardest since all of them could notice it was different, more mature…more serious. Nadia was more than a random girl for Matty and everyone was sure of that.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Matty interrupted Y/n’s inner monologue, staring at her, while his right arm was around Nadia.

“What?” Y/n answered, coming down to earth, with a question. 

“You were gone.” everyone was strangely in silence while they looked at each other.

“I was just thinking about the government lifting the restrictions. Meaning, now I can go home.” she half lied, while messing with the leftovers of her breakfast. Y/n did chat about it with G that morning anyway, and it was a reality Y/n needed to get away from the lovers for a time.

“I told her, none of us want that.” George interrupted their conversation.

“Of course not.” Jaime, who joined the breakfast table, said to her.

“I know, guys. But it’s been almost four months and I- This is not my- “

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Matty warned her, and she looked him directly in the eyes.

“It’s the truth, Matty.” she said, dropping her fork on the plate.

“It’s not, this is your house too, Y/n/n.” Ross, sweet Ross, reminded her. “At the same time, if you want to go back to your flat, I understand. We’ll miss your meals.” his comment made everyone chucked, except Matty who was studying every one of her movements. 

A weak smile was plastered on her face while she stared down towards her plate unable to make eye contact with Matty. “Don’t get me wrong. I love being here with you guys, but I need my space.”

“If this is about some couple…” Jaime looked at Matty and Nadia “Waking up the whole house.” he finished the sentenced winking like a cartoon.

“For fuck's sake.” Matty swore under his breath. “Is it about that?” he looked at Y/n.

“‘Course not!” she looked at him trying her hardest to hide her feelings.

“I wouldn’t blame you if that’s the reason. I’m sleeping on the other side of the house and I can listen to them. You’re right beside Matty’s room!” John emphatically said.

Before Matty could say a word, Y/n exclaimed, “It’s not about that, okay?” she simply lied. 

Y/n could sense George staring at her. “It’s what I said, I need my space, and it’s not like I’m going to disappear.” another white lie. Y/n was planning to do exactly that for a while until her wounds healed again. “You’ll still have to bear with me.” she finished her little speech.

“We can simply send the couple to your flat, and you can stay here in peace” Ross joked this time. All of them except for Matty laughed again.

“Stop with that, he will get angry.” Y/n defended Matty.

“I know it’s not my house either,” Nadia started saying. “If I can say something, I would like you to stay, Y/n.” she continued rather shyly. “It’s nice to have a girl around.” Of course, she was so nice. “I promised we’ll keep it down.” she looked quickly at Matty for reassurance and then again at her.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry you’ll have to survive with these boys, but I really need to go.” Y/n explained. “Another reason is the fact that I have to prepare to get back to work soon.”

“So, when did you start thinking about leaving? Since you apparently have a lot of reasons to leave.” Matty said with a strange expression on his face.

“Matty-”

“Are you that eager to leave?” ‘He was pissed?’, Y/n thought. 

“Matty- “she protested, not knowing what else to say.  

“No, it’s okay. I get it! You want to leave, it’s okay.” he stood up from his seat gathering the plates to wash them.

“Matty!” Y/n said again.

“It’s fine, Y/n!” he said more sternly, obviously not fine with the situation. 

The rest of the group –included Nadia–, took that as a cue to leave the friends so they could talk. They made stupid excuses, leaving Matty and Y/n alone in the kitchen.

Matty went to the sink, beginning to wash the dishes. After letting a big breath out, Y/n stood up approaching where he was standing.

“Why are you so angry?” she asked him, folding her arms, standing beside Matty looking at his profile. Matty was stroking the plates with more force than needed for the task in hand.

“I’m not. I said that I got it, and it’s fine.” he answered.

“You’re obviously not fine, Matthew.”

“Do you want to know how am I? Perfect.” he stated, turning the water off and drying his hand with a cloth while he turned to look at her. “I really don’t get it why you want to leave so suddenly.”

“It’s not that I want to- “another big lie. She wanted to, she needed to.

“Bullshit!”

Y/n tried to defend herself, “I’m not going to disappear…”

“Bullshit!”

“Can you stop that?” Y/n stood directly in front of Matty. 

“I know you’re going to disappear. I know you. We’re best friends and something is bothering you, I can tell. It hurts that you’re not telling me anything and I fucking bet you told George already.” She couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Is this more about that competition?” Y/n tried to distract him.

“Yes- No- Of course, not- This is about you and me.” Matty said, melting her heart a little. He was obviously troubled with the idea of Y/n leaving.

“Matty, there is nothing…mayor going on. Trust me. I need silence. You said it, you know me. I crave my space…alone.” she told him sweeter this time.

“Yes, I know. But you can find somewhere here-“

“You know that’s a lie.” ‘What a hypocrite I am’, Y/n thought. 

“I know.”

“You aren’t gonna miss me. You have the boy and Nadia- “she moved uncomfortably in her place.

“It’s not the same, you’re my best friend. I’ll miss you, darling.” Matty looked at her with his best doggy eyes.

“Don’t!” Y/n pointed a finger at him.

“What?” he played dumb.

“Don’t give me puppy eyes, it won’t work.” she smiled this time.

“Shit, are you so certain about it?” he looked down, defeated.

“Yes.” Y/n simply said.

“Okay, I understand. You can go.”

“Thanks for your permission that I didn’t ask for.” Y/n tried to joke.

“But- “ he ignored her.

“But?”

“But promise me that you are not going to disappear for too long.” he said, staring directly into her eyes.

“I promise.” Y/n said way too quickly. After a couple of seconds, she had to look elsewhere.

“Can we hug?” he said very slowly. 

Y/n chuckled, placing her arms around his shoulders, at the same time Matty placed his on her waist.

“I love you.” Matty mumbled on her left shoulder.

“I love you too, Matty.” Y/n said, feeling it from the deepest of her heart. There lied the difference. 

Maybe, she couldn’t love anyone like she loved Matty, even though she had to try for the good of their relationship. 

-------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @hollybrislen

[jewreallythinkthat]

Wait.

You blew my mind with:

“Canonically in Tanach, there is an admittance that other gods exist”

I didn’t know this! I’m agnostic, and not in anyway Jewish, but trying to learn more about peoples and cultures other than the one I was raised.

I always thought Jewish monotheism was similar to Xtian (if we can call the trinity monotheistic!) in that, there’s only one god and any other claims are people being mistaken because people.

Is this not the view in Judaism then? Is it like, there’s only one god Jews care about because covenant? Others exist and it’s fine for gentiles to worship them?

Hey Nonnie!

So like everything in Judaism, it's a hotly debated topic - and please other people on Jumblr, feel free to join in the convo! I cannot speak for all Jews so this is just my opinion and conclusions I've drawn from chats about Thai with friends.

There's a couple of points you've mentioned which I'll address (a bit out of order) if that's ok?

So about the trinity in Christianity, I've always found it a little bizarre as to me, the monotheism of having three 'aspects' of god is a bit ... Dodgy? I've never really been able to see how it can count as monotheism when prayers are literally sent to the father, the son and the holy spirit. But also, I'm not Christian and I'm sure someone may be able to hop in and explain how that doesn't count as praying to different gods!

I'm regard to the Jewish view of deities - I think a few quotes from the Tanach may be useful for this one. The translation I'm using is from Chabad online as I cannot be bothered to get my Tanach from the other side of the room and transcribe. Translations often vary a bit here and I prefer the ones I grew up with but the general gist will be there. I've highlighted the bits I view as especially important in red.

So first -

Genesis, chapter 1, verse 26

And God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, and they shall rule over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the heaven and over the animals and over all the earth and over all the creeping things that creep upon the earth."

Genesis chapter 3, verse 22

Now the Lord God said, "Behold man has become like one of us, having the ability of knowing good and evil, and now, lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever."

I mean this, to me, implies G-d to be talking to others right? God says "our", as if more than one is there at the time, almost observing the creation. In the second one, again God is talking other beings which must be like God for they are referred to by the collective 'us'.

Exodus, chapter 20, verses 1-5 (the start of the first reading of the 10 commandments)

God spoke all these words, to respond:

"I am the Lord, your God, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

You shall not have the gods of others in My presence.

You shall not make for yourself a graven image or any likeness which is in the heavens above, which is on the earth below, or which is in the water beneath the earth.

You shall neither prostrate yourself before them nor worship them, for I, the Lord, your God, am a zealous God, Who visits the iniquity of the fathers upon the sons, upon the third and the fourth generation of those who hate Me,

So this is where it gets interesting. There is specificity in the first line 'your God', not the God of other people but specifically the people Yisrael for this is addressed to them and them alone. This then is followed by explicit acknowledgement that other peoples have their own gods and to worship them is a BIG no no.

This is also where we get another famous antisemitic trope from - the idea that Jews think they are better than others because they are the 'chosen' people. This is, of course, bollocks. Not only is the 'chose' more like chosen to do the washing up rather than chosen as favourite, it is also specifically to do with the Jews as the ones with whom God, our God, has the covenant. We are the ones in the contract, chosen to have to fulfill the mitzvot. The Jews were the ones with the king list of things they had to do while others are not bound by the covenant and may do as they please.

Now from the Haggadah (which tells the story of the exodus and is ready during the Passover Seder) we have this - it's the section about the 10th plague so there is a lot of talk of death and child death.

As it is said: “I shall pass through the land of Egypt on that night; I shall kill every firstborn son in the land of Egypt, man and beast, and I shall pass judgment on all the gods of Egypt: I am the LORD.”

“I shall pass through the land of Egypt on that night” – I and no angel. “I shall kill every firstborn son in the land of Egypt” – I and no seraph. “And I shall pass judgment on all the gods of Egypt” – I and no emissary. “I am the LORD” – It is I and no other.

We have explicit mention that the Egyptians have their own gods. We also have the final line - 'it is I and no other' - why would God need to clarify it is Godsself rather than a different god, unless God I is acknowledging there are other godly beings? It's also worth nothing, the judgment and punishment on the Egyptians is not a punishment for worshipping other gods for the Egyptians never entered into a covenant with Hashem - the Israelites who built the golden calf however did suffer quite severe punishment.

If there are other gods, the others have nothing to do with me because theyre not the one my people have a covenant with. If others want to worship them, I don't care. It doesn't affect me in any way so they can do what they want 🤣

I also, from a personal pov, like the fact that this horrific thing, the slaying of the first born, would be performed by God rather than being delegated to an angel or a seraph. There's something about the big boss taking on the worst of the jobs (as it were) which I really respect as clearly God has emotions (from the line about God being jealous) and I cannot imagine that slaying the first borns (of all ages, not just children, it just says every priest born) is a task that would have been anything other than mentally destroying.

It's also important to note that I do not believe this happened - otherwise I'd not be so flippant about mentions of child death and murder. I view the Torah as the written version of the oral histories of the Jewish people, a tribe's oral history that like with many indigenous peoples oral histories, has been embellished and mythologised. It's a good story with grains of truth to tell the history of how the people Yisrael came to be, how our culture and people became not just a group of random tribes but a community with shared history and culture and traditions.

I'm never sure if I believe God exists. Some days I really do wish there ot be something else - often when I think about achievements that I've done which are the result of the help of family members who have since died and I like the idea that they could still be there in some way to enjoy and see how grateful I am for them helping me get to where I am. Other times, I look at things like October 7th, the famine in Sudan, the innocents dying in Gaza, genocides in Rwanda, Bosnia, Cambodia etc and I think "how could a god allow this to happen". There is so much suffering in the world and I cannot bring myself to believe that a god could condone that when they have the power to literally create the world, to strike Egypt with the plages, when they have the power to stop the suffering.

I'm glad that in Judaism, we don't focus on the afterlife in the way I see it centred in Christianity and Islam. I don't view the notions of Heaven and Hell as beneficial and while ther are notions of them in Judaism, they've generally very much sidelined and not centered in conversation.

While the beneficiary of help does not care if you have helped them altruistically or because you think it will help you get into heaven, the concepts of heaven and hell have been used to slaughter so many innocents in the name of religion and I am thankful that for me, I've never seen this in Judaism because the important stuff is what happens when you're alive. You should be focussing on the here and now, to try and complete as many of God's commandments as possible. What happens when you die? Well frankly that's a problem for you when you get there. (Obviously I know there are extremists within the Jewish world - ie WB Settlers - but they are such a small minority and certainly are not a major part of the history of our people)

Anyway, this answer sort of got away from me so sorry about that. I hope you at least found it interesting and enjoy the foray into learning about other cultures!

[ticklygiggles]

Lovelynim's tickletober Day 2: Accident

Ichikawa Giichi x Kikuchihara Jin

A/N: Day two! Big thanks to lovely @ppystkposts for requesting these two 😍 I'm so happy this manga got an anime because it's SO GOOD! I hope you enjoy it, cutie MWAH 💕

So far, in the story of my life...

"This time I really messed up!" Jin groaned in despair, looking at the mess on the floor.

This is what he got for taking things without permission. You shouldn't assume that your partner's things belong to you... especially when you know that there are things that don't really belong to them. Like that exquisite limited edition manga he just ruined!

Jin thought it would be a good idea, a very innocent good idea, to borrow the second volume of the bl manga that Giichi had lent him last night. He sat comfortably on the floor with his back leaning on Giichi's bed, the manga in one hand and a can of soda that Rei had given him in the other. Who would have thought that he would fall asleep for who knows how long and that when he woke up he would find that not only had the manga fallen from his hand, but also the soda can and the liquid had fallen on the book, completely damaging it.

Jin didn't even try to dry it, the soda had literally fallen on the manga like a fountain, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fix it with absolutely anything.

Giichi was going to kill him. Worse yet, he was going to break up with him! He could hear him already: 'Didn't I tell you clearly that these mangas belong to my little sister?! Couldn't you just wait for me to arrive?!'

"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no- eek!"

"Hi. I'm ba-"

"I am so sorry!" Jin yelled lifting the still dripping book up for Giichi to look at it. "I am so so so sorry! I swear it was an accident! I was dr-drinking some soda and then I fell asleep and- and it was all Rei's fault because he gave it to me! Agh, of course it wasn't his fault, I just-"

"Please tell me that's not a limited edition one."

"... I'm so sorry."

Jin flinched when he heard Giichi sighing heavily, looking up at him he saw him throwing his backpack to the side and rubbing his temples as he closed the door behind him.

"I'm so sorry! I'll- I'll get a new one! No matter what I'll definitely get it!"

"Do you even know what 'limited edition' means?"

Jin flinched. Of course he knew... it meant it was limited as in you can't get it anywhere else. He groaned, finally letting the dirty manga fall on the floor.

"I- I promise I'll get it! Punish me, Ichikawa Giichi, but please don't break up with me!" Jin clasped his hands together in prayer, his eyes nearly filled with tears. "Please!"

Giichi sighed again and he nodded. "Fine." Jin flinched when Giichi suddenly fell on his knees in front of him. "Just know that I'll punish you until I think it's enough."

Something fluttered in Jin's chest, his cheeks flushing. No! Why was he getting excited over a punishment?! He nodded, gulping and closing his eyes.

"You also need to clean up this mess."

"I-I will, I prom- ahahaha!" Ridiculous, bubbly giggles erupted from his lips when Giichi suddenly grabbed his sides and squeezed them, tickling him. Jin squirmed, widening his eyes for one second before he shut them tightly again. "W-Wahahahait! Not thihihis!"

He tried to hold his laughter, gritting his teeth and whining, but it was impossible. He has always been terribly ticklish and he hated the day Giichi had found about it during one of their intimate times. He had simply brushed his spine a bit too lightly, and Jin was a giggly mess in seconds.

He should've known Giichi would choose this punishment.

"Quiet down. You're being too loud."

"It tihihihickles! H-How cahahan Ihihi- ahahah! N-No, nohohot thehehere!" Jin was almost sure he heard Giichi chuckling, but with his loud, high-pitched laughter, he couldn't really tell.

Giichi's fingers moved up and down Jin's torso at maddening speed, preventing Jin from getting too used to one spot before jumping to the other. Jin fell back onto the floor and Giichi easily straddled him, finding that horribly ticklish spot on the back of Jin's ribs, very close to his spine. Jin squealed overwhelmingly loudly as he threw his head back and arched his body up, trying to escape Giichi's fingers, but he couldn't, and it was entirely his fault for ruining something that wasn't even his.

He deserved this... but he was still too ticklish and couldn't help but squirm and laugh uncontrollably, blushing up to his ears and feeling tears of laughter running down the sides of his face.

"You're already crying? I'm barely starting, you know?"

Ah, he would definitely never take anything without permission ever again.

BONUS SCENE

"You know...," Giichi said after he finished wrecking Jin. The poor third year was gasping and twitching after enduring the tickling of his life. "That really wasn't the limited edition one. It just has a different cover, that's all."

Jin blinked a couple of times before he lifted his face to look at Giichi, oh that little shit was smirking down at him. "You-! Then why did you- AHAHAHA! Nohoho! N-No, plehehease!"

"Because you shouldn't even grab my stuff without my permission. Serves you right."

Serves him right, indeed.

[mamadovie]

I left a rq on your old blog and idk if it was in your drafts or not so I'm just gonna send it again lol

[I think I left a request about Vilkas with an S/O who finds comfort in his heartbeat or something like that but I just realized you write for Kaidan and I wanted to know if I could switch it from Vilkas to Kaidan lol]

𐙚 . . . KAIDAN.

A N: Hi, lovebug! I do remember this request, I'm pretty sure you asked for a werewolf reader x non-werewolf Vilkas. But yes, I shall write this about Kaidan instead with a werewolf reader. As usual, gender neutral reader.

A B O U T: After a long and hard day, all you want to do is listen to Kaidan's heartbeat.

W A R N I N G S: None. Just Kaidan being beautiful!

Kaidan doesn't know about this little fun fact about you. He just thinks that it's your favourite position to cuddle in — with your head on his chest. He thinks it's about warmth and general comfort.

He loves to cuddle, he loves to feel close to you, and due to his height, more times than not, your ear will be placed around that region anyway, so as a werewolf with a love for the sound of his heartbeat, that's great.

If you're a vampire, you're... Well... Fucked.

If it's something you wouldn't tell him, maybe due to embarrassment of sorts, he'd probably never know.

The furs scattered the bed in a messy formation of multicoloured mountains that encase the limbs underneath — yours and Kaidan's. His big hands, scarred and loved, traced circles on your body, silently drawing the letters to both of your names like a prayer. How much this man loved you, only the Gods knew the fullest extent. Even Mara blushed at his thoughts towards you.

You noticed his heart would pick up in pace every so often, always as you would move your hands. To play with his hair. Trace his features. Line the markings on his skin. Where you kiss that place on his collarbone. You smiled against his skin as your fingertips absorbed the pace of his heart, how warm your stomach felt as his breathing slowed into a lullaby of deep breaths and tiny sighs. But as always, his heart still skipped a beat as your fingers curled his inky hair lazily.

Moments like those reminded you both what it meant to be alive. To have a heartbeat. To know he was safe. Okay. You held a lot on your shoulders, knowing he could die, all because he wanted to stick by your side. The thought terrified you. So these moments were everything. To fall asleep as you tapped your finger to each beat his heart made. Repeating the rhythm like a mantra, or a poem, maybe. The poem he'd write for you every night.

His hand reached over to yours, gently kissing the finger that tapped, "Can't sleep, love?" He asked, deep voiced and riddled with much needed sleep. You simply shrugged your shoulders, not keen on the idea of saying, 'I can't sleep if I don't take in each beat of your heart.'

Instead, you say, "Not really. You?" Your finger continued to tap, even as he held your hand. A routine, a habit. He hummed out, wondering what song you were thinking of. But instead of asking, he joined in, smiling in the darkness until he laughed a little.

"What song is it?" He asked.

You held back a giggle, of course he thought it was a song.

"Ragnar the Red." You lied, a smile spread across your face. You felt him frown. You were out of tune. He knew you were no bard, but surely not that bad?

"Ah, right. Love, never become a singer." He jested, you both laughed as his crimson eyes watched the ceiling with sleepiness.

"Nah, I'm more of a ... Poet."

"You're definitely something. Now sleep, long day tomorrow." He kissed the top of your head before shrugging his body into comfort.

As you planted a kiss against the bare skin that cloaked his heart, you made sure not to forget to listen as it beated in tune with your own.

[loz-furbies]

Breath of the Wild / Age of Calamity / Tears of the Kingdom Zelda, part 1/2

The final Zelda (so far) of this character review series is the most developed of them all, and probably has more character content to her in just one game than any of the others, and she has three to boot! With full voice acting (I'm JP voice only), a huge and personal role in the story, diary entries, notable relationships to multiple characters and being discussed by many NPCs there is a lot to talk about, but I'm mostly going off of memory and rewatching the cutscenes since it would be too much work to research every mention of her in all three games.

Design

(Ancient dress Zelda model from here)

Not going to copypaste my thoughts on her BotW look since this is long enough already.

It is a pity that Zelda didn't get a full redesign for TotK, but I'll take what I can get. The bob is really cute! And unusual among the Zeldas too, and I guess a nice way to represent that she has moved to the commoner lifestyle.

As for the ancient dress, it looks perfectly fine on its own, but since I value it when the designs have their own unique identity, I wish it wasn't so similar to her white dress from BotW. Maybe there is some connection, like Sonia used to be a priest so maybe the dress design survived through millennia as a prayer dress or whatever, but since that's not actually in the game, I'm not giving credit for that.

The bulkier and sort of unrefined jewelry does a good job making the outfit look ancient, but it's still fancy enough that I can believe it to belong to the royal family. That decorative accessory on the front of the dress is really cool looking and a nice and consistent detail among all the ancient clothes, but man is it a pain to draw. Finally I really like the big earrings and the tear makeup is a great little detail.

When I first saw the Light dragon in the final Zelda memory I thought it looked kind of doofy, with its bright colours, clumpy eyelashes, bulging eyes and borzoi nose, but it has since grown on me. I once read that some Pokemon designer said in an interview or such that if a Pokemon design looks too cool, they add something uncool to it to make it more memorable, and I think it's a pretty good design philosophy. There have been several LoZ designs that have shocked me at first, but eventually I get used to them and they will look just right. They could have given the dragons a more cool or elegant look, but that would have also risked making them more generic. Also the eyes give a good impression about Zelda's state that nobody is home there.

Character

This iteration of Zelda is easily the most fleshed out of them all, since we get to see so much of her relationships, character development, emotional reactions to plot events, and also stuff she does outside the immediate plot.

BotW Zelda's dread over the impending doom and the self esteem issues that rise from it are a large part of the story. There are other Zeldas who also worry about the Plot, but in BotW Zelda's case it's incredibly personal since her failure to do her crucial job in preventing the disaster is at the core of the story. According to Rhoam's diary, she had already internalised her duty at the age of six (and this caused her to not show any weakness even at her mother's funeral), and from there she spent her life trying and failing to awaken her powers. This lifelong crushing sense of responsibility and guilt and the failure to live up to her demanding father's expectations give BotW Zelda a very melancholic vibe that constantly pops up through the game. Though I must say that in the memory where the champions perform their little ceremony and Zelda gives a long speech to Link, her voice acting gets really awkward when it sounds like she's about to start crying with every word.

Once she finds her inner strength, Zelda gets her badass moments as well. I especially like the grand finale of BotW where she, glowing with power, calmly stands before Calamity Ganon's pig form and doesn't even flinch when he charges at her. And in the TotK flashback cutscenes she can apparently be taken to a battle against Ganondorf as a part of Rauru's sage posse.

I called out Skyward Sword Zelda for being a bit too much of an ideal girlfriend, so I'm really glad that the memory where BotW Zelda lashes out at Link exists. It works to prevent her from being just a pure maiden who is victimised by unfair outside circumstances. Or I mean that does happen to her, but letting her display some negative traits (like frustration and jealousy) that she's personally responsible for as well makes her feel more like an actual person and not just a perfect victim.

Even if BotW Zelda's heavy burden is a huge part of her character, luckily that's not all there is to her. And not just because being multifaceted of course makes her more interesting, but also I find it a lot more realistic that not every moment of her life had been constant suffering.

One of her most charming and notable traits is her nerdy scientist side. It certainly sets her apart from the other Zeldas, and also gives her something else to do than just worry about the plot and be a princess. The memory where she geeks over a frog and goes on such a ramble over its scientific properties that she forgets basic social norms is such a great piece of characterisation, and it's cute how her enthusiasm returns in TotK where she's excited over Zonai discoveries, and is also into Mineru's constructs. According to AoC, studying was also apparently something she did with her late mother as a child.

Her research notes also detail how together with Purah and Robbie they discovered various things about the ancient Sheikah tech, but I do think it's a little disappointing how we don't get much anything concrete about Zelda's contributions specifically. There's a lot about her being interested in the Sheikah technology and how she apparently was a part of research group, but all actual discoveries are attributed to different characters or left vague, so as a result she comes across more like an enthusiastic hobbyist who in the end doesn't actually get anywhere. I would have liked it if for example Purah's diary had a line of how Zelda's efforts helped them understand the Guardians better or something like that, but now you have to imagine her contributions yourself. The closest we get is how in AoC she gives one Sheikah artefact to Rhoam, which ends up saving his life, but it's not quite what I'm looking for since Zelda didn't know what the item would do, so it feels more like luck. But even if the execution didn't quite land, I'm glad that AoC took the time to give some kind of resolution to the Rhoam-forbids-Zelda-from-Studying aspect and has to admit that he was wrong. And regardless the Sheikah tech works well to give Zelda her unique identity, and it's also nice how two of her weapons in AoC are based on it.

BotW Zelda also has a playful side, like for example she runs up to play with a dog she just saw, or jokes with Urbosa about how they both had to act all formal in front of an audience despite being long time friends. She is also a very proactive character; thanks to the "find the memories" gameplay, we see her travel all across Hyrule instead of just sitting at her castle, she's the one to handle all business with the Divine Beast pilots (and since they're all high ranking individuals among their people, this makes Zelda pretty politically active as well), and BotW ends with her wanting to work on rebuilding Hyrule.

Zelda being active continues in TotK, where there's a lot of little snippets how she has founded a school, installed memorial monuments, managed survey teams, worked on gardens, and so on. And of course she also immediately volunteered for investigating the Gloom situation at the start of TotK as well, and from the stone tablets we can read how she also got into fiddling with Constructs and fashion in the ancient Hyrule. Obviously it would have been nice to actually see all of this instead of just reading or hearing it second hand, but I understand that not everything can get a fancy cutscene, so it's at least nice that this was included in the game at least in some fashion.

I touched on it in the part about her nerdy side, but let's also bring specific attention to the fact that BotW Zelda also has a delightfully weird and chaotic side to her. She tries to feed a frog to Link, and the TotK stone tablets tell about how she would ride Mineru's construct despite the protests of the chamberlain. And while the recipe she cooks in AoC is a legit BotW recipe, the way the scene is depicted clearly makes her come across as eccentric in her cooking.

AoC also casts her in a leadership role once her powers finally awaken and she becomes more confident. Honestly I prefer the insecure nerd Zelda over the charismatic leader because I don't think she quite has enough credibility to pull off rousing speeches to masses at this point of the story, but I guess it does make sense for the kind of story they're telling

Her powers are pretty inconsistent between games, BotW is obviously all about awakening her sacred sealing power, and the game ends with her saying that she used all that up. And then TotK reveals she had two different powers all along; Sonia's time power comes out of nowhere and Rauru's light power overlaps with her BotW ability a lot. But I can live with a discrepancy like this since I like the story of TotK.

Since I brought up how it's nice that Skyward Sword is implied to have a knitting hobby, I suppose it should be mentioned that BotW Zelda made the Champion's blue clothes and accessories. Though here it feels a lot less important and even a bit tacked on, since BotW Zelda already has so much going on that is more important and meaningful to her character. But I guess crafting clothes is princessy enough of a subject that Rhoam approves of spending time on it instead of prayer practice and even brags about it. A different little detail that I like more than this clothing thing is that we get to learn Zelda's favourite food (fruitcake).

In Japanese Zelda uses polite language, but no honorifics. I'm no Japanese expert, but to me this comes across as keeping a polite distance from everyone, while also implying status ("I'm a princess so I don't need to use a honorific for you"). Also in the beginning of AoC, Link (who at this point is just a random knight to Zelda) kneels in front of her and she doesn't even acknowledge him, so it appears she's pretty used to her standing. The stone tablets in TotK also describe her having an undeniable air of nobility.

[momo-shut-the-fuck-up]

So i ve done the main story in infinity nikki and im gonna stop playin now, before i squeeze the game dry of content and have nothing (new) to do on release.

Time for a lil review/thoughts post

I m not gonna review every single mechanic in the game, simply things that stood out to me or that i wanna talk about. I also wont add more images, i kinda want ppl to see the world for themselves... i ll share more when the game comes out tho.

There s a lot of text under this. Tldr, i like the game i think it's a solid, enjoyable experience with a good gameplay loop, the story isn't for me, and i'll keep playin of course. And u should try it too if ur device wont blow itself up tryin to run it.

Dress up

The bread and butter of Nikki games... it's good as usual. Game doesn't shy away from long skirts or coat tails or complicated ballgowns just cuz nikki can run and jump and dash now and i'm very happy bout that. There's some clipping issues once in a while, but it's nothing major and the clothes we do have in the game are lovely. There s an evolution system for some of the sets, which makes em a diff color.... usually they can evolve once, but i saw Three extra evolutions for one of the UR sets and that scares me. Bcs to evolve them u have to craft the suit again. So u have to pull 4 copies of a suit to max it out..

Combat

Game's definitely succeeding in its quest for being cozy. There's no real stakes, combat isn't difficult in the slightest but i do welcome it- super simple but it's pretty fun regardless. The boss fights were surprisingly creative and fun for what they are, it's just unfortunate that you have to do them more than once or twice (crafting mats)- but they do change what the boss does so it's different depending on what mat u are farming for... and u can claim double or triple or however much stamina u got-le of the mat after u complete it once. So that s rly nice.

Exploration

I actually think it's really really good. Again this isn't a difficult or complicated game, not yet i guess... but with the major goal being "get new clothes" and "take pretty pictures maybe", the open world feels actively engaging to participate in. There's collectibles everywhere, little challenges you can do that are diverse but quick, styling battles, collecting everythin from animals fur to bugs to fish, and allll of this brings u closer to that never ending goal of woo more clothes.

However even if a challenge doesnt give you a blueprint, it's still just. Really Nice to exist in this world. It's very whimsical, as expected of Lilith, and the world has a combination of realism and cartoon artstyle that is just soso appealing to me. It's genuinely how i would've imagined miraland to look in 3d. Shame it's not the same miraland we know..

Story

Hmm... silly is one word i could use for it. Cute also. The story isn't doin anythin bad per se, and i did start skippin dialogue near the end w the pieceys because i want to keep at least Some part of the story for the game's release... but i get the gist of it, and it s just not my thing.

It feels like a story made for children, and it definitely would get a G rating. Easy and simple to follow, there's moments of tension or sadness sure but with the antagonist bein a literal babie lookin cutey fairy with a grown man's voice, or the creatures that i'm interacting with are a bunch of. Fuckin weird lookin big eyed balls of fabric that look closer to plushies than somethin Alive... it's all so silly and dramatic sometimes i can t help but cringe.

Part of it is a me problem, if u just open ur heart and free urself from the cringe the story is fine. It's just a little too kiddy for me and i so desperately hope it won't stay like this forever. My prayers might be answered though, there's a whole war beyond the borders and we have refugees around... shit's lookin bad for Umbrosa.

Other things i noticed that i liked:

The effect on nikki's skin when it's raining, she actually has water dripping down her face... its so cool

Momo capes are actually kinda neat ngl. Especially cuz the fucker follows u around everywhere, at least i can bedazzle him

Npc models look really good im a fan. They do suffer from "everyone is very beautiful" syndrome, which makes some of the npc villains look/sound ridiculous, but they have kid-teen-adult-elderly versions of models (i never see teen models in these games! Its cool!) And some body variation. The grandmas look so lovely i cry

The dark skin tone is really dark, and it looks quite nice and natural.

The lighting engine in this game is just rly good in general. God bless UE5

The edges of the map where there s forest, which u obv cant go thru, the forest is made to be darker, thicker.... i m a huge fan of this idk y. It's not just *invisible wall in front of an open field* nopee cant go there lets explore that area later tee hee. And it looks good to boot.

Camera function is p robust, has more options for changin brightness/saturation/contrast etc which i feel Shining Nikki lacks.

Some of the creature designs are so good man i looove themm <3.... the pieces are awful tho. Ok creature design is a hit and miss sometimes but the stray hatty? Peak. All the weirdy fashionable animals? Peak.

Bein able to quick switch thru ur saved sets while in the overworld is real neat

Oke that was it. Bye

[anakinsafterlife]

Thoughts on Dune Part 2

All right, friends. Dune Part 2. I absolutely picked the wrong time to start wanting to return to Tumblr, since I'm currently in the thick of Ramadan, but c'est la vie. I'm a bit worried that if I don't review now that I might forget my specific impressions of the movie, though I have to say that if this weren't Ramadan that I absolutely would be going back to see it again in the cinema, which says a lot considering that it's been at least ten years since I've actually wanted to go back and repeat a film instead of just waiting for it to come out on streaming/DVD.

So the movie is good. It is in fact very, very good. It's the Empire Strikes Back of the Dune duology (possibly trilogy), and (much like Empire) in terms of cinematography, music, scripting and acting it's nearly flawless. There are, however, issues, things that might not occur to a majority-Western audience but which are immediately clear to anyone who either comes from an Arab or Muslim background.

What follows here is a deep dive into some of the historical and cultural sources of Dune and some of the ways in which the movie producers, and in some cases fans, have failed to acknowledge those sources.

First of all, it's obvious that the Fremen are meant to be based on the Arabs, but of the the entire main cast there is only ONE actor with an Arab background, and that is Souhaila Yacoub, the half-Tunisian actress who plays Shishakli, the female Fremen warrior who is executed by the Harkonnens. Now, I have to say that this woman was fantastic. Her attitude is completely on point for an Arab, especially a North African Arab: forceful, loud, a bit brash and mocking even under fire. Nicely done. Points to the producers there, but I have to take that point away again because she is literally the only Space Arab who is actually Arab. Javier Bardem, the Spanish actor who plays Stilgard, does have some interesting moments and one of the reasons why I feel that the screenwriters were advised on Arabic traditions/culture. The incident during which he warns Paul about the Jinn in the desert like it's a joke but then immediately turns extremely serious when Paul starts smiling is so in character for an Arab and honestly just a brilliant bit of scripting, but much of the time he also acted more or less like what people *think* a fanatical religious Arab acts like--loud, frantic and unstable.

Not only this, but the "Muslim" behaviour/traditions in the film are at best...vague. People are praying, but in any direction at all. I do realize that this would be a complicated issue on another planet, where the Ka'aba couldn't be pointed to, but there are Islamic rulings for EVERYTHING. Check out the one about praying in space:

Even if they had as a society simply picked a random direction for prayer, they should all be praying at the same time and in the same direction (they seem to do this in larger crowds, but not in the smaller group where we first see people praying). They also definitely shouldn't be talking during prayer or trying to make other people talk to them during prayer (as Chani does), since talking breaks your prayer and you have to start over all over again (during obligatory prayers).

Language, too, is an issue, and a big one, because while I do understand that a conlang was developed for use in this movie, the linguists consulted did know that the language was meant to be heavily influenced by Arabic. Consequently, they've included a lot of fragmentary Arabic in their work. Unfortunately this Arabic is poorly pronounced at best, to the point where I was looking words up and laughing at what they're meant to be based on. For example, "Shai Hulud," the word for the Worms, is based on the Arabicشيء خلود, which means "immortal thing," and should be pronounced with "shai" rhyming with "say" followed by a glottal stop, and the 'h' in "Hulood" is actually a guttural sound like the infamous "ch" in Bach, followed by a long U. Another example is Mua'dib مهذب , a real word in Arabic that means "teacher," but is is actually pronounced with a "th" sound instead of a d and emphasis on the second syllable, not on the last as in French. (Note: I made an error here. There is a word مؤدب , pronounced mostly the same in the movie, but with a glottal stop after the 'u' sound and a short 'i' after the d sound rather than a long vowel, that is usually used to mean polite, urbane, gentlemanly, etc. but which can also mean teacher, although I have never heard it used in this context) "Usul", أصول, Paul's other Fremen name, was likely not, as I had previously guessed, based on the word "Rasool," meaning Prophet, but on أصول الفقه the Principles of islamic Jurisprudence, which also ties directly into a religious/prophetic them. Again, this is pronounced on the long vowel, so with a short first U and a long second U.

I've included the Arabic spellings in here, by the way, so that you can drop them into Google translator and hear how they actually sound.

Now, I do realize that the story itself is set 8000 years in the future and that spoken Arabic as a language would have changed considerably in that time, if it existed still at all, but Arabic is a liturgical language as well as a vehicle for conversation, and Muslims all across the world today use it as a tool for worship. Muslims who have no cultural connection with Arabic often still learn it in order to connect more deeply with religious traditions and simply to perform prayers and other religious duties. Religious scholars consider it to be a necessary duty of the Muslim to learn at least some Arabic:

And keep in mind that the Arabic spoken today across the MENA region is very different (and different in different places) to the Arabic spoken 1400 years ago by the Prophet Mohamed (peace be upon him). Given Islamic traditions, the chances of the Fremen using liturgical/classical Arabic for their worship would be quite high, even if their spoken language had evolved past the point of being recognizably Arabic.

Keep in mind, also, that Dune as a whole is an allegory for colonialism, economic exploitation of poorer nations (or making rival nations poor through the same), as well as dehumanization of the views and needs of native peoples in order to make that exploitation palatable to the occupying forces (I thought that this was done quite smartly in Jessica's part of the story; although she is sympathetic to the Fremen, she feels that manipulating their religious traditions is the best way to protect her son, and in doing so she allows herself to dehumanize the people who come to rely on her).

It is, therefore, incumbent upon us not to distance ourselves too much from the intended message by claiming that Dune is fiction and need not too accurately reflect the culture and religion of the people that the Fremen are so clearly based on. The fact that the producers have done little to hire Arab actors or induced any real effort to accurately pronounce the Arabic words or accurately portrayal Islamic practices seems to indicate that they are concerned about identifying too closely with the economic and cultural struggle between East and West, properly because they fear the potential economic backlash, and this despite the fact that Frank Herbert clearly wrote his book to illustrate the fallout of that struggle.

Here is a wonderful article written by a culturally Arab woman:

There are numerous other articles addressing the same issues, but I like this one because it's written by a Muslim woman, who also addresses the "hijab cosplaying" in the movie. I didn't get into that much, but I definitely recognize that it's a problem when Muslim women worry about potential violence while wearing hijab in the streets of Western nations, but the same article of clothing is fetishized in movies and fashion.

I've also seen some comment about the Mahdi mention in particular. This is a saviour-figure in Islam who will come near the end of the world. There is no emphasis on this figure in Sunni Islam, but Shias seem to have a significant body of literature concerning this figure and, from what I understand, believe that he may perhaps have already come, and so there has been some poor reception in that community to applying the label of Mahdi to Paul. Criticisms ranging from insensitivity to outright blasphemy have been levelled regarding this usage. Now, there was some tip-toeing around the prophetic theme in Dune, and rightly so, I believe, since the Prophet Mohamed is the "seal of the prophets" in Islam, meaning the last and final. The fact that Paul was essentially set up as a false prophet by the Bene Gesserit does avoid some of the potential fallout from this, and also makes sense of Chani's rejection at the end of the film, since she felt strongly about Paul acting as a false Prophet.

Again, I am aware that there is internal cosmology within the series itself, and that some fans object to the religion of the Fremen being referred to as Islam, but when the inspiration for the entire ethnicity, religion, and the natural resources at stake are as clear as they are in this series, it's also futile to expect that people will not draw those associations, nor that people belonging to the religion or ethnic group in question may not acknowledge the beauty of the movie, the gorgeous cinematography, rousing music, and tightly plotted story, but still take exception to what is clearly Orientalism.

And it is frankly such a shame that we have to place this movie under that header, because the story of Dune is so sympathetic to the Middle East and its peoples, and as I said in the beginning I actually loved the film and found it very beautiful. It was also exciting to see Islamic themes used creatively in mainstream media, but while Frank Herbert clearly wrote the story as an exposition on the exploitation of natural resources, particularly oil, in the MENA region, the truth is that the racism and exploitation that he was protesting are very much alive today and contribute to the oppression of millions. It's particularly disappointing to see the message of the movie sail over the heads of people watching it when Arab Muslims in Palestine are being dehumanized and obliterated at this very moment, and while Libya was one of the latest Arab nations to be targeted for its oil resources, only a decade ago, with European oil companies moving in directly after the downfall of Ghadafi (which makes the timing extremely suspicious, one might say):

And even after the US finished their occupation of Iraq, Western oil companies remained en mass to continued drilling:

Egypt to this day remains economically destabilized while Western nations exploit its oil stocks, to no benefit at all of its peoples:

I'm sure I could cite dozens of other cases, but it's clear that there is a one-on-one parallel between spice melange and oil, making any protests of apoliticism in an inherently political story utterly vain.

I could go on, but I needn't. In short, this beautiful movie could have done so much good even beyond its obvious artistic merits, but instead it is still towing the political line. Much as was the case for Jessica and Paul, sometimes you can be a Harkonnen and not know it.

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 8 Prompt: Hanukkah Traditions

Tags: Established Relationship, Jewish Eddie Munson, Hanukkah Traditions, Hanukkah Fluff, Eddie Munson Is A Menace, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

wc: 1553 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Logically Steve knows there are other holidays celebrated in the month of December. He’s heard the conversations about family Hanukkah celebrations in passing walking the halls of Hawkins High. Noticed the way the house three doors down always put up blue lights instead of the traditional red and green. He even vaguely remembers learning about the holiday in grade school.

It’s just never something that has come up in his own life until now.

He hadn’t known Eddie was Jewish until two weeks into his hospital stay back in March when he caught Wayne mumbling in another language under his breath. Never one to shy away from opening his big mouth, he asked Wayne rather rudely what he was doing and Wayne, gruff yet patient as ever, explained the Hebrew prayer to him in English.

It was the first and last time either of them ever brought it up, probably because Eddie woke up the following day, and gone were the days of sitting in silence hoping for a miracle. Now their time was spent trying to keep Eddie distracted and entertained.

By the time December rolled around, Steve had almost forgotten about that night all those months ago. Eddie certainly never mentioned it and his time with Wayne was few and far between these days so it was easy to slip his mind.

That is, until two days ago when Eddie invited him to their first night of Hanukkah celebration Wayne had insisted on having.

“We usually don’t do much, but Uncle Wayne’s determined to celebrate it properly this year,” Eddie had said, tapping his fingers against the counter at Family Video. “Says we got a lot to celebrate this year and we should be thankful. I told him thankfulness is for Thanksgiving and he gave me one of his looks so I guess we’re doing Hanukkah now.”

The rambling went on for another minute or two before Steve finally cut him off, assuring him that he’d be there. Eddie left satisfied and Steve pretended to be sick and raced off to the library to research what to bring to a Hanukkah celebration.

He settled on a plate of Latkes which he probably should have left to the professionals based on the sad, soggy-looking potatoes that neither he nor the Munsons touched during dinner. It’s the thought that counts, right?

Other than the delicious sufganiyot and the small menorah set up on the kitchen counter, it’s a fairly typical visit to the Munsons. He’s sitting on the couch with Eddie, the usual bottle of beer swapped out for a mug full of wine. Wayne’s in his recliner, mug in one hand, TV remote in the other after he won it from Eddie in a heated game of rock, paper, scissors. A rerun of Gunsmoke plays on the television — more static than actual dialogue, but none of them seem to mind.

A winter chill wafts through the screen door, fanning the small flame of the lit Menorah candle. It flickers but stays lit and Steve catches the way Wayne smiles at the resilience. This time he doesn’t have to ask, he spent the last two days down a rabbit hole of research learning about what Hanukkah is about. He gets it.

“Eds,” Wayne says, pulling his eyes away from the Menorah. “You ever tell your boy ‘bout your first Hanukkah?”

“Wayne,” Eddie groans beside Steve. He shoots Wayne a warning glance before burying his head in his hands. “No.”

“No, you ain’t tell him or no you don’t want me to tell’m.”

“Both.”

“Oh, now I definitely need to hear this.” Adjusting himself on the couch, Steve leans forward, elbows resting on his knees so he can get a better look at Wayne. It’s not a hard feat given Eddie’s curled-up state.

Wayne lets out a gruff laugh and takes a slow sip from his mug of wine before setting it down. “His momma wasn’t Jewish. And his daddy, well the only thing good ole’ Warren ever worshipped was himself, so Eds here didn’t know a thing bout Hanukkah ’til he came to live with me after his momma got sick.

“Now I wasn’t much for celebrating back then, the war’ll do that to you, but I had this little kid living under my roof and I couldn’t do nothing. Not when everyone was talking’ ‘bout Santa this and Santa that. So I pulled out all the stops. Found my Bubbie’s old Menorah and brought it out. Sat Eds down and explained the whole thing to him.”

“I don’t know that I’d call it explaining,” Eddie says, finally joining the conversation. “If I remember correctly you told me that we were celebrating Hanukkah and when I asked what that was you said “the holiday we're celebrating” and that was that.”

“You were six what did ya want me to tell ya.”

“Uh, more than that!”

“Well, anyway,” Wayne says, shaking Eddie off with a hand through the air. “Eds wasn’t into it much as you might expect until the matches came out. Should have seen the way his eyes lit up when he saw the fire. I should’ve known better but I didn’t know what I was doin' back then.”

“You still don’t.”

“Let your uncle talk,” Steve scolds, playfully swatting Eddie’s arm.

“You see that burn mark on the curtain there?” Wayne asks, pointing to a softball-sized charred piece of the curtain.

Steve nods before giving Eddie a questioning glance. He had noticed the charred piece of fabric before. Hell, he even brought it up to Eddie months ago asking what the story behind it was. He remembers listening to him paint the picture of the memory — his first joint, a faulty lighter, a pair of jeans ruined fanning the flames.

Nothing at all having to do with a Menorah.

“Well, your boy, got so excited ‘bout lighting the match he let go of the thing and sent the flame flyin' through the air. Lucky I was standing by 'cause the curtain almost went up in flames. Trusty ol’ baseball cap from my high school days put it out before it got too dangerous.”

The annoyance he was feeling towards Eddie’s white lie drains from his body as the truth is set free. He can picture it. A younger Eddie, shorter but still larger than life. Mischievous as all hell, but ready to handle the important responsibility of lighting a match only to let his excitement get the better of him. It’s a side of Eddie he’s experienced quite a lot of in the last few months.

The only thing more dangerous than the horrors they’ve faced is an overenthusiastic Eddie Munson.

“Is that why you wouldn’t let him light the Menorah tonight?”

“You’re damn right. This place already took a beatin’ this year. Don’t need Mr. Arson over there sendin’ it up in flames.”

“Hey,” Eddie whines. “I was six! I am way more careful with fire now.”

“Didn’t you burn yourself yesterday?” Steve asks, gesturing to the blister on his thumb from where he caught his finger fidgeting with his Zippo.

“You know what,” Eddie scoffs. He throws his hands up in the air, nearly knocking them against the low-hanging rack of mugs before standing up. “The Maccaknees didn’t endure what they did for me to have to sit here and listen to you two make fun of me! Goodnight!”

Steve watches as Eddie stomps off down the hallway like a petulant child. If he wasn’t so in love with the giant dork, he’d probably find the entire thing off-putting. Hell, he probably should find Eddie’s tantrums at least a little unattractive but his heart hasn’t gotten the memo.

When the bedroom door slams shut, Steve twists on the couch until he’s facing Wayne. “Do you think we should tell him it’s the Maccabees not whatever it is he said?”

Wayne laughs, shaking his head. “Come on now, you’ve been ‘round long enough to know correctin' Eds ain’t ever a good thing. Best to let him think what he thinks.”

“I heard you!” Eddie shouts from behind the closed door. “Just for that, I’m lighting the candles tomorrow.”

The recliner creaks as Wayne slowly gets himself to his feet. The noise is enough to coax Eddie back out of his room — not that he was ever going to stay hidden in there long without Steve.

“What are you doing?”

“Checkin’ the extinguisher. Never can be too careful with fire in your hands.”

Steve laughs, earning a death glare from Eddie that only spurs him on more. “In that case, you better make sure the fire department is on the way the second you hand him the matchbox.”

“I hate you both!” Eddie groans, collapsing onto the couch in a defeated state.

Eddie manages to light the Menorah on Night Two of Hanukkah with no incident, much to the chagrin of Wayne and Steve. He manages to keep it up for several more nights until things take a turn on Night Six. Caught off guard by Steve’s hovering, the match slips from Eddie’s nimble fingers, igniting a stack of bills.

“Think you just made settin’ things on fire a Hanukkah tradition,” Wayne laughs once the flames have disappeared, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

“The Maccaknee would be proud,” Steve teases.

“I hate you both.”