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#and about growing up in a religious community
mrdogface · 16 hours
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so like, there's a specific bubble of fanon usually devoted to rehabilitating the character of Talia al Ghul, that tends to reimagine Ras al Ghul as some kind of enlightened socialist leader who'd never think a bigoted thought or anything. i think it's because he's usually presented as a master manipulator who promises a lot of glossy shit like saving the environment or destroying capitalism, and that is based, but the underlying meme has always been that he wants to do it via mass genocide lol. like sister my sister, you, the audience, are falling for the character's ruse.
so, there's a Superman/Batman comic where, after Batman went back in time and shot his parents' killer in the braindome (lol), we see a world where Batman wasn't around to fuck Ras' daughter and foil his evil James Bondian schemes
and wow, he does a LOT of Hitler shit?
like a LOT of Hitler shit
he's not just toxic, girl, he's holocaustic
and while i fully support everybody's fanfiction, no matter how cracked or scuffed, because comics are a giant sandbox and i hate the attitude of there being a correct or incorrect way to play in that sandbox, i would like to propose an alternative narrative:
Talia al Ghul and Damian Wayne actually did grow up in this, believing it fully. that probably included a lot of Bad Notions about whether disabled people belong in the new world post-'cide, what the role of religion and therefore religious and ethno-religious communities might be, blah blah blah dark morbid shit.
and that they, through exposure to the world and their own personal intellect, ability to empathise with others, and the relationships that they built, both reject these horrifying, bigoted cult beliefs.
there is an obvious heroism in someone who is raised to believe horrible shit and who, through innate human compassion, learns to ultimately reject it. i would even go so far as to suggest this is probably core to the story of an angry little boy raised by a world domination assassination cult that wants to do mass genocide learning to be a hero, and that by smoothing off every rough edge to preserve this notion of a little boy who has never ever thought a slur or whatever, we lose that. but i think people do it because --
okay, this is my hottest of takes.
i think in fandom and the realm of post-twitter media literacy, there is a false equivalence of a character's morality with the beliefs of their fans.
you see it all the time with the brain trust insisting that people who like, i don't know, zack snyder's shitty boring superhero movies must be fascists or whatever. i see it a lot in the crazy arguments people make pro- and anti- brutalia and the nature of sexual violence in that canon relationship. it's all extremely dumb.
and it leads us to this weird place where takes like "damian wayne, a 10 year old raised in a genocidal cult where conversations about who does and doesn't get to be in the new world order happened, has never had a thought like 'well gay people are non-reproducers' or 'disabled people are useless'" take weird precedence over, "damian believes a lot of stupid, probably evil shit, but he's ten and he's learning," y'know what I mean?
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darkersolstice · 11 months
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Recognizing that one has been exposed to a huge amount of propaganda on a topic doesn't immediately flip a switch and remove the ways that propaganda has affected your thinking. I wish it did, though.
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robotsprinkles · 1 year
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okay I've not actually watched the video yet
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but based off the comments this guy's video is basically ripping into shad's stupid shapiro and carl benjamin loving ass for stupid "anti-sjw" comments he made about the mario movie
very glad to see people outside the hema/historical arms and armour community becoming aware of shad's bs
.
maybe one of these days I'll check whether jazza's fallen into a similar hole of crap. (I mean he's apparently gotten into ai art so that's. yeah). did a quick google, according to reddit Jazza's apparently cool about queer people so that's nice at least.
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2003hondacivic · 2 months
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allfearstofallto · 3 months
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Devout
Yandere! Childe x Fem,Nun! Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
TW: 18+ MDNI, Noncon, lots and lots of mentioning of religion, reader is a virgin, yandere, obsession, unprotected sex, finishing inside
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Heavenly. What an on the nose way to describe you. Dressed head to toe in loose fitting, religious garb, your hair covered. All he could see was the skin of your hands and that heavenly face.
Such a sweet, welcoming smile and gentle voice was befitting of a nun. He could only imagine how many men you'd lured into your trap of giving donations with those assets of yours. Kindly praising them for whatever they could give like an owner to a dog. And he was another willing victim.
Your eyes went wide when he dropped the large bag of mora into your little basket. Your grip wavered a bit as the heavy coins weighed your little arms down, and all he did was smirk. He'd made himself known to you.
“What a generous donation!” You exclaimed. That pretty smile of yours, the way your eyes lit up. He resisted the urge to lick his lips while thinking about what he could do with that mouth, a lewd gesture to be doing right in front of a nun, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
He felt himself cock an eyebrow at your words. Pleasure? He supposed he gave pleasure to receive it. He eyed you up and down, he could see so little of you. The skirt down to your ankles left plenty to the imagination and imagine he did, “I suppose I'm trying to be new to the faith.”
A little white lie, but your smile growing wider made it worth it. If all nuns were as pretty and tempting as you were, he'd join the commune immediately.
“Lord Barbatos accepts all,” You said, holding the basket back out to him and implying that you wanted him to take his money back, “Don't give because you're new to worship. All that is given is accepted, but we will still take you with open arms.”
“I want to give you this much,” he said, a firm hand pushing the basket back, “and I want to give you so much more.”
Going to the city of freedom, a city known for its drinking and partying, just for the cathedral was quite the story amongst his subordinates. But Childe didn't care. The things he wanted to do with you weren't holy, but that was much better than a glass of wine and a song. If they knew the treat that stayed praying in the church day and night, they too would take to the faith.
Walking into the chapel, the first thing he was greeted with was the sight of you on your knees, praying to the statue of that absentee god. Filling that pretty mouth of yours felt like a better use of this time, you were already on your down there after all. But he decided against it. Not yet at least. Not when you were smiling at him so sweetly, motioning him closer to pray next to you.
Childe mentally asked the Tsaritsa for forgiveness, but still kneeled next to you. The Tsaritsa was a forgiving woman, he hoped that she would understand why he was praying to a false God. The way you were sitting on your knees, your round behind pressed against the heels of your feet, it made the fabric of your skirt press against your body. The curve of your ass, it was the first time he's seen it and he sucked air in through his teeth. He truly was being tempted, wasn't he?
“It's such an honor to see you, Ajax. Wasn't it?” Even the way you tilted your head in confusion was adorable. Typically he'd be upset if someone had forgotten his name, he didn't feel forgettable, but he was going to make you remember. Those plump lips of your would be calling his name over and over again, until it would be all you could say.
“Yes, it's Ajax,” he dropped the clasps of his hands and stood again, holding out an arm for you as well, “I was in the area again and decided to stop by for a prayer.”
A look of hesitance danced across that pretty face of yours as you debated whether or not to take his hand, before deciding against it. Instead, you chose to stand by yourself, a move that made him long for you even more. So he couldn't even feel the softness of your skin? Yet another ache in his groin, you were honestly trying to get him, weren't you?
“Forgive my rudeness, but we're discouraged from touching those of the opposite sex. Especially those who haven't taken vows, better to not tempt provocation,”
Vows? He'd assumed as much, but hearing you say it his pants grow even tighter. Temptation was you. You were such a pure soul, but you were sin. That body under all those clothes, he knew that it was erotic. He knew you felt lustful thoughts, that even you had ideas and thoughts that went against your virtue.
“I understand,” he spoke in a strained whisper, gripping the legs of his pants tight, “Do you think we can go somewhere private? I have a few confessions I need to make.”
You perked up once again, large eyes filled with enthusiasm, “Our father is holding a confessional if you'd like-”
“No,” he cut you off quickly, “I want to talk to you alone, do you think that's a possibility?”
There was a look of aversion in your eyes, clearly you were thinking about it. You looked like you wanted to tell him no, but your good natured heart and kind ways were fighting against what was right and what you felt like you needed to do as a nun.
“I'm…I'm not meant to take confessions, brother Ajax,” you said sweetly.
He stepped a bit closer to you, trying not to intimidate you, but also trying to press the importance. His length was hardening even more, his pants growing tighter. If you noticed, you didn't say anything, but of course, how would you?
“Please, it'll just be for a moment,”
Fearful eyes looked around the church before you motioned for him to follow you. Going against your God while in his home, you felt like you were committing a crime. But you couldn't leave a person in need behind. You're sure Barbatos would find it in his heart to forgive you.
“Please, make yourself at home here, dear brother,” you said while leading him through the door.
It was a simple room. An altar at the other end of the room, with a few candles and offerings and dim lighting. The room was scented with incense, a sweet smell that reminded him of the dandelion wine that Mondstadt was known for.
You lowered yourself onto your knees and motioned for Childe to follow you, “Please, kneel next to me, confess whatever you feel necessary,”
He sat down next to you, close enough to where his shoulder brushed against you. You flinched from this contact, but didn't say anything. A thought crossed your mind, so much space in the room and he chose to be right against you.
“Forgive me, I have sinned,” he said, but he never closed his eyes, never clasped his hands together, never lowered his head.
“Confess to me your woes,”
He sucked air in through his teeth, trying not to jump on you. Not yet. Not while you were looking at him so hopefully. So much trust. It only made him want you more.
“I've been having sinful thoughts,” he began, his eyes not leaving you, “Sinful to the point of being debilitating. They wreck my mind constantly.”
“Are these thoughts of harming others?” You asked, this didn't seem like the question of a clergy, but rather one of genuine curiosity.
He didn't look away from you, while his hand slithered down and he began palming his length through his pants, “They used to be. But now they're more deviant in nature.”
“Br-brother Ajax, such actions are- they are unbefitting for the church,” you said quickly, turning your head away to not see him as he defiled sacred ground with his actions.
“I need you, sister,” he leaned closer to you, whispering his words right into the shell of your ear. You squirmed at the feeling of his breath, such a cute reaction it was, and the yelp you let out when his hand gripped your ankle was even cuter. He tugged at your leg, pushing your back against the ground and leaning over you.
He'd seen fear like this before. Many times before. When he plunged a weapon into someone's chest, watching the life fade from their eyes, it was similar to the one you were making now. The tears, the muttered begging, even the way your lips quivered, it was all the same. So why now did it make his cock even harder in the confines of his pants?
Where would he even begin with you? Quite honestly, he didn't even know how to take your garb off. Instead, he took to ripping it, right at the neck. Pulling it apart straight down the middle until every inch of your torso became visible to him. Your breasts were covered in a basic bra. Normally he was the type to prefer more intricate lingerie to entice his urges, yet something about the simplicity of your undergarments made him hiss air in through his teeth. It was like you knew for certain that nothing was happening, yet he still was forcing you to show him.
“Stop! You can't do this!” You cried, trying to cover yourself in what scraps of your dress you could find.
He was gentle as he touched you this time, fingertips stroking your cheek, but his words following were harsh and deathly serious, “Don't fight me, I wouldn't want to hurt you,”
“Heavenly father, I ask that you forgive me…” you began to mutter to yourself in prayer. Laying there, hands clasped and teary eyes shut as you felt him trace up and down your thigh with his tongue. The feeling of his saliva, going up to your stomach, one of his hands cupping your breast before ripping the fabric of your bra away, it made you sick to your stomach. Your pebbled nipples hitting the cold air were quickly sucked into his mouth, a pleasure never experienced before washing over your body. You shuddered, much to his approval.
He wanted to go slower. He wanted to tease you for hours before taking you. He wanted to make you cum over and over, proudly showing how lewd you truly were to your false God, but even he has grown impatient. Trying to win you the right way just wasn't working and he needed to feel you, as deeply as possible, the girl he'd fantasized about night after night.
The way your eyes widened when he dropped his pants was cute. When you tried to look away from his hard cock that was dripping precum onto your cunt, still begging with those sweet lips, it was even cuter. But the way you went silent, the way the world seemed to stop from you the second you felt the head of his cock against your opening, that was the cutest. He loved the look in your eye. The look of visceral fear. It was a look of knowing. Knowing that after he was finished with you, you'd have nowhere to go, but to him.
You only began truly fighting him off when he began pushing the head of his cock into your warmth. So tight and soft, no matter how hard you hit him, you couldn't make him leave your insides. When he bottomed out inside you, feeling your walls clench around every inch of his cock, he hissed. Face to face with you now, nestled deep within you, he kissed your wet cheeks. Childe wasn't one for love making, but he couldn't help but to be tender with you. His thrusts were slow, but deep, making sure you tasted all of him.
“Hush, little angel,” he cooed softly to you, while wiping away more of your tears. Your little sobs were agonizing to his heart, yet his cock only twitched harder, “It'll be over soon.”
And you nodded. Such a sweet thing. You nodded and let yourself go to him. He didn't take this as a sign to be rougher though. No. He couldn't. Not to you. He continued his same pace, softly humming to you and shushing you when you got too loud. He wanted to pound your insides, to fuck you brutally, but that would be for later.
Little sobs left your lips as your nails dug into the carpeted floor beneath you. He was still going slow. Thrusting in and out skillfully, his hand tenderly gripping your face and making you look him in the eye, any time you tried to look away, he'd just force your head back.
“I'm cumming soon, okay?” He muttered against your lips, kissing you gently afterwards.
With your mouth engulfed in his, you couldn't beg him to please not finish inside you. Instead, your body flailed beneath him, trying to get him off as you felt the thrust of his hips speed up and become more greedy. You felt him grip you tighter, you felt his moans grow louder against your lips. And all you could do is sit in horror as you felt his hips falter, his pace slow down, and his cock twitch even more as it pumped hot cum deep inside your.
Childe pulled away from the sloppy kiss, your lips covered in saliva and he smiled. You'd never seen such evilness until you looked into his eyes, proudly looking down at your cunt where the cum was seeping out. I'm your mind, you were saying another prayer, but you weren't sure if anyone was listening.
“Guess I have to marry you now,” he chuckled with a playful pat against your thigh. But despite the smile on his face you knew he wasn't joking.
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kitten4sannie · 14 days
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ateez and corruption kinks… that’s it I just had to let that out into the void
communion
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pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)
summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um….well…a religious object…)
a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption 🖤 physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33
p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie 🫶🏼
song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on….)
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No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.
Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.
He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.
“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.
Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ…” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.
“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.
“Amen.”
Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”
You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.
“Oh, God, let His will be done….” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So…nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity…” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit…”
Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full…so that I may take you inside properly…”
It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.
You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.
“What a thing of beauty….” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.
“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”
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that isn't very holy of you :/
Yandere church boy x gn!reader
It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time
Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention
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✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area
✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces
✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter
✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday
"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"
✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention
✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching
"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"
✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph
✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile
"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"
✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal
✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...
✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?
✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...
✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you
✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...
✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..
✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?
"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'
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porcelainseashore · 7 months
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Heavenly Creatures
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Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader
Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.
Author's Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂
Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.
Title from Heavenly Creatures by Wolf Alice.
AO3 Link
Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.
Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.
Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reined their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.
Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.
One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.
“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”
Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.
“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.
Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.
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Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.
The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair. 
You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.
He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot. 
You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”
He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”
“I know.” You grinned.
“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.
You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”
He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.
You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.
“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.
Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”
“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.
“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.
“I think you’re nice too.”
And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents. 
You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.
━━━━━━━━━━━
A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore. 
People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.
Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you. 
“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.
Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.
Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked. 
Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.
Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.
You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.
As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.
When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.
You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.
All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.
You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.
It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow. 
It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.
This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.
At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.
When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.
“What are you playing at?”
“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”
“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”
There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”
You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”
There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”
“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.
“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”
“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively. 
His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.
He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”
“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”
Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.
“Um-”
Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.
However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.
“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted. 
If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour. 
Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.
“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.
“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”
“Catholic guilt?” You teased.
“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.
“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”
You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”
His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”
“Hm?”
“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”
“Thanks?”
“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.
He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”
“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.
Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.
Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”
“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.
He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.
He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.
With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”
Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”
“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.
“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”
“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.
“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”
Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.
Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.
Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.
Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.
Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”
Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.
Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips. 
“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.
You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.
“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.
“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.
And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”
━━━━━━━━━━━
Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.
You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?
Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.
Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.
Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”
You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”
He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”
“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”
There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.
Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”
“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.
He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.
She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.
━━━━━━━━━━━
The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.
When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.
Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.
At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”
Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds. 
As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.
“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.
There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.
“Huh?”
“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.
“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”
You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.
“Feeling good?”
“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”
He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”
You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”
He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.
“What was that again?” He taunted.
You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.
“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.
At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”
With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.
You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.
His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.
It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you. 
Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.
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fuckyeahisawthat · 6 months
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There are so many places in the Villeneuve Dune adaptations where he just...takes all the narrative pieces that Frank Herbert laid out and subtly rearranges them into something that tells the story better--that creates dramatic tension where you need it, communicates the themes and message of the book more clearly, or corrects something in the text that contradicts or undermines what Herbert said he was trying to say.
The fedaykin are probably my favorite example of this. I just re-read a little part of the book and got smacked in the face with how different they are.
(under the cut for book spoilers and length)
The fedaykin in the book are Paul's personal followers, sort of his personal guard. They show up after his legend has already started growing (the word doesn't appear in the book until chapter 40) and they are people who have specifically dedicated themselves to fighting for him, and right from the moment they're introduced there is a kind of implied fanaticism to their militancy that's a bit uncomfortable to read. They're the most ardent believers in Paul's messianic status and willing to die for him. (They are also, as far as you can tell from the text, all men.)
In the book, as far as I can remember (I could be forgetting some small detail but I don't think so) there is no mention of armed resistance to colonialism on Arrakis before Paul shows up. As far as we know, he created it. ETA: Okay I actually went back and checked on this and while we hear about the Fremen being "a thorn in the side" of the Harkonnens and we know that they are good fighters, we don't see anything other than possibly one bit of industrial sabotage. The book is very clear that the organized military force we see in the second half was armed and trained by Paul. This is exacerbated by the two-year time jump in the book, which means we never see how Paul goes from being a newly deposed ex-colonial overlord running for his life to someone who has his own private militia of people ready to give their lives for him.
The movie completely flips all these dynamics on their head in ways that add up to a radical change in meaning.
The fedaykin in the movie are an already-existing guerrilla resistance movement on Arrakis that formed long before Paul showed up. Literally the first thing we learn about the Fremen, less that two minutes into the first movie, is that they are fighting back against the colonization and exploitation of their home and have been for decades.
The movie fedaykin also start out being the most skeptical of the prophecy about Paul, which is a great choice from both a political and a character standpoint. Of course they're skeptical. If you're part of a small guerrilla force repeatedly going up against a much bigger and stronger imperial army...you have to believe in your own agency. You have to believe that it is possible to win, and that this tiny little chip in the armor of a giant terrifying military machine that you are making right now will make a difference in the end. These are the people who are directly on the front lines of resisting oppression. They are doing it with their own sweat, blood and ingenuity, and they are not about to wait around for some messiah who may never come.
From a character standpoint, this is really the best possible environment you could put Paul Atreides in if you want to keep him humble. He doesn't get any automatic respect handed to him due to title or birthright or religious belief. He has to prove himself--not as any kind of savior but as a good fighter and a reliable member of a collective political project. And he does. This is an environment that really draws out his best qualities. He's a skilled fighter; he's brave (sometimes recklessly so); he's intensely loyal to and protective of people he cares about. He is not too proud to learn from others and work hard in an egalitarian environment where he gets no special treatment or extra glory. The longer he spends with the fedaykin the more his allegiance shifts from Atreides to Fremen, and the more skeptical he himself becomes about the prophecy. This sets up the conflict with Jessica, which comes to a head before she leaves for the south. And his political sincerity--that he genuinely comes to believe that these people deserve liberation from all colonial forces and his only role should be to help where he can--is what makes the tragedy work. Because in the end we know he will betray all these values and become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be.
There's another layer of meaning to all this that I don't know if the filmmakers were even aware of. ETA: rescinding my doubt cause based on some of Villeneuve's other projects I'm pretty sure he could work it out. Given the time period (1960s) and Herbert's propensity for using Arabic or Arabic-inspired words for aspects of Fremen culture, it seems very likely that the made-up word fedaykin was taken from fedayeen, a real Arabic word that was frequently used untranslated in American news media at the time, usually to refer to Palestinian armed resistance groups.
Fedayeen is usually translated into English as fighter, guerrilla, militant or something similar. The translation of fedaykin that Herbert provides in Dune is "death commando"...which is a whole bucket of yikes in my opinion, but it's not entirely absurd if we're assuming that this fake word and the real word fedayeen function in the same way. A more literal translation of fedayeen is "self-sacrificer," as in willing, intentional self-sacrifice for a political cause, up to and including sacrificing your life.
If you apply this logic to Dune, it means that Villeneuve has actually shifted the meaning of this word in-universe, from fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for Paul to fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. And the fedaykin are no longer a group created for Paul but a group that Paul counts himself as part of, one member among equals. Which is just WILDLY different from what's in the book. And so much better in my opinion.
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liyazaki · 2 years
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via the Arkansas Advocate
it’s official: in Arkansas, library staff may now be charged with a Class D felony for providing books to their communities that are deemed “obscene”.
in Florida, school librarians and teachers can be criminally charged for checking out books to kids that dare to touch on LGBTQ topics & gender identity, thanks to the “Don’t Say Gay” bill.
book censorship in the US is at such an all-time high, book sanctuaries are popping up all over the country.
library staff aren’t physically safe, either. just over the past couple months, threats against libraries and their staff resulted in the temporary closure of “five public library systems due to bomb and shooting threats," ALA. active shooter trainings have become the new norm for me.
the censorship myself and my colleagues have been watching unfold over the last several years has felt like watching a slow-motion car crash.
but this bill? this feels like a death knell for my profession.
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via Teen Vogue
when I was a confused queer kid growing up in an ultra-religious household, the library was my refuge. when I asked hard questions, librarians listened and gave me the tools I needed to answer them. in many ways, libraries saved my life. it's why I became a librarian.
I can't believe I'm living in times where future generations of kids may not have access to the same refuge I did, but it's happening.
if you live in the US and you care about protecting open, equitable access to information, please check out the American Library Association for anti-censorship resources in your state, info on contacting your representatives, etc.
you can also report censorship you see in your community and ALA will investigate (1-800-545-2433, ext. 4266; [email protected]).
I know this isn't my usual content, but libraries are standing on the edge of a horrifying precipice- one we can't escape on our own.
libraries are free society's canary in the coal mine, and all the alarms are singing. when libraries fall, nations usually aren't far behind.
this matters- and we need help.
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harmoonix · 8 months
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❝𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥 - 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠❞
Asteroid Psyche Observations
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~𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭~
Psyche Asteroid Code: 16
💜 - Asteroid Psyche (16) harmoniously aspecting Venus makes your soul to crave for love/romantism, sometimes to be an hopeless romantic and to make you crush over people
💜 - Psyche harshly aspecting Venus makes it hard to give up on love and on loved ones, it can be hard for you to let the ones you love to go, because you tend to attach yourself hard on people
💜 - Psyche in Scorpio/8th house natives are really intense and surrounded in a mesmerizing aura, they're also very loyal to those they love and feels like their soul is a magnetic field
💜 - Asteroid Psyche in Venusian Degrees (2°, 7°, 14°, 19°, 26°), makes your soul to be feminine or at least to have feminine energy in it
💜 - Psyche aspecting Mars, there can be a conflict between your soul and your mind, sometimes you tend to be too dominant over the things in your life and you forget to focus on things that give you happiness and satisfaction
💜 - Psyche at 1°, 13° or 25° degrees are giving spiritual leaders vibes, they're usually the type of people who lead others to make good decisions and they're also protecting of them
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💜 - Psyche in the 7th house/Libra can attract partners who have a really great bounding, these natives can be very attached to their partners and so so adorable when they get into a relationship
💜 - Psyche in 4th house has a very peaceful home, their home brings them peace and their family has a strong bounding between eachother
💜 - Psyche aspecting Mercury can be the type of person who will always want to communicate their feelings and their emotions, they can be very curious of everything
💜 - Psyche in the 11th house/Aquarius usually has a very special connection with their partners and all of their relationships seem good
💜 - Psyche in Pisces or Psyche in the 12th house, here is a prominent and powerful place for Psyche to be in because she's connected to your soul/past/karma/subconscious to give you an example is like Psyche lies in your soul
💜 - Psyche square or opposition with Mars can indicate a fight with the inner spirit, usually they are very fierce souls and very ambitious
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💜 - Psyche in contact with Uranus has a very intelligent and strategic mind. What's admirable about them is that they can make a balance between their heart and brain
💜 - If Psyche sits empty in a chart that placement can indicate the native needs to be more aware of their spiritual side and awakening stage
💜 - If Psyche is aspecting the asteroid Eros (433) their love is so unique/soul loving/romantic and sensual and they're very attractive people
💜 - If Psyche aspects Neptune she can gain a lot of intuition by letting themselves to be spiritual. Also religious if is the case but you also have a strong belief system with this placement
💜 - Psyche aspecting Juno (3) can have a spiritual bounding/connection something is so mesmerizing about them and so magical
💜 - Psyche in the 2nd house/Psyche in Taurus The native can have a sensible body and they look ethereal at the first sight (Depends on the 2nd house sign), they're full of grace and so gentle & loving
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💜 - Psyche aspecting the ascendant (all aspects) have such beautiful eyes. Their eyes are majestic i feel like you fell in love with their eyes first
💜 - Psyche in Leo/ in the 5th house really give royal/princess vibes. Is like their taken out of a fairytale and they usually have a big pride about themselves
💜 - Psyche at 10° 22° degrees have a growing beauty, like their beauty is evolving with the time and is in a good way
💜 - Psyche at 9° 21° degrees or Psyche in the 9th house are free spirits, also Psyche in Sagittarius They're usually very stubborn when it comes to rules and like doing things in their own ways, for example like Peter Pan or Tinkerbell (and they can't stay in one place, always moving)
💜 - Psyche in Virgo/ in the 6th house have a healing inner power. They really know how to heal themselves when they're at the lowest/hurt and they're also very supportive
💜 - Psyche in Aries/in the 1st house have a very sensitive soul I think based on my opinions these natives have their first reincarnation like they feel like newborn souls and everything feels so exciting and new for them
💜 - Psyche in Capricorn/in the 10th house, I love these people because they know their worth. They know how to value themselves and how to be worth it, they're also hardworking and soul evolving in the same time
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💜 - Psyche aspecting Pluto, yeah they really evolve, every experience is felt with intensity so their soul acknowledge this and evolves together with the native. Also wow they're very intimidating
💜 - Psyche in Cancer or at Cancer Degrees 4°, 16°, 28° have a very welcoming energy, their souls are literally so kind and so sensitive and so helping wow it feels like they're some adorable kid you see on the street, they're also very generous with people
💜 - Psyche aspecting Jupiter has a spiritual teacher kind of vibe, maybe even if occult if they're interested, they are very spiritual and know a lot of things that's why they're also called wise for their age and they can have love or desire for travelling to ethereal places like idk some really beautiful looking beach or place/mountains/forests/jungle etc
💜 - Psyche in Gemini/or in the 3rd house, okay so here we have a multi-mind working soul, they are always thinking at more things at once, they're usually the people who bound really easily with others and their voice might also be pretty and unique
💜 - Psyche aspecting the Moon, now those natives are full of aware of their intuition of their spirituality of their spiritual path, they're also very beautiful inside and out and know how to impress other people
💜 - Psyche aspecting the Chiron (all aspects) have a hurt/wounded/ soul in pain like they really need to get out of the norms and their schedule and heal their soul because I feel is from their past lives in most cases maybe some of them didn't had the chance to heal it (in a past life) so is your moment now!!💜💜
💜 - Psyche aspecting the Sun (all aspects) natives that magical and ethereal aura outside and inside them, they're have a lovely personality and always make sure to give it or share it with others (they're also kind)
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💜 - Psyche at 11° or 23° degrees are usually having a different approaching style and something unique in them
💜 - Psyche at 0° degrees really gives newborn soul, I just know Psyche is in the most ethereal, magical, stage with this degree on it and it feels like the magician from the tarot card
💜 - Psyche in contact with Midheaven can have some sort of career or job involving spirituality/therapy/psychology/healing teacher/tarot reader/crafting etc ..
💜 - Psyche aspecting the south node is probably a very powerful placement to have in contact with Psyche because it tells about your past and how your soul/power source managed to work in a past life is like you're looking for your souls past lives and deja - cu moments might be a lot in your life
💜 - Psyche aspecting the asteroid Vesta or having those astroids in the same house makes you to be so devoted/loyal/kind/and it indicates that everything you do/touch/feel/see is unique and special for you
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💜 - Psyche in the 6th house or at 6° 18° degrees can also have a very cute/special connection with animals like I adore these natives so much for their love for animals
💜 - Psyche aspecting Saturn (all aspects) sometimes they feel like they restrict themselves from things they love, they're very serious in their work and about their life. They have a mature or an old soul kind of vibe but they're so powerful after they heal the pain
💜 - Psyche aspecting Lilith (h12) are those magnetic, intense fierce natives, very seductive energy in here is like their soul is made up with fire
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✨ ⚡⚡⚡We closed the January chapter: January for 2024: 🔒 ⚡⚡⚡✨
❤️With the 1st February coming I wanted to make a special post and that is asteroid Psyche which is a very beautiful and deeply connected asteroid, noted as the asteroid of soul ❤️
❤️ I'm so excited to share this post with you and I hope you'll enjoy as much as I did ❤️
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rafry · 1 month
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Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control
Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)
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The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!
For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:
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"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"
That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?
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"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."
If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:
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"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"
Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?
"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"
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I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.
There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.
It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).
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And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).
As for the details:
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He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.
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He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.
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He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.
So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.
That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.
Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?
I hope he does well on therapy.
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shaniacsboogara · 6 months
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jojo siwa claiming she's revitalizing gay pop and releasing 'karma' on the same night as conan gray's 'found heaven' and chappell roan's 'good luck babe' is so poetically ironic. it's like the universe WANTS to draw a comparison between jojo and queer pop artists.
the thing that makes queer pop compelling as a genre is the unique storytelling and experiences of queer artists told through their music. that doesn't necessarily mean every song by a queer artist has to be about their queerness. they don't have to scream "hey i'm gay!" in every single song they write. but claiming to be "reinventing gay pop" should mean you're telling interesting stories about your queer experience, right???
'found heaven' by conan gray is about growing up as a queer kid with religious guilt and disapproving parents. he equates being in love in an authentic way to "finding heaven", and the piece as a whole resonates with a TON of queer people in different stages of their lives. some people can look back at their childhoods and how much they've grown since then, some can relate because they're currently going through what conan's written about, and some people can sympathize with the way some queer people are treated, even if they aren't necessarily queer themselves.
'good luck babe' is a song about queerness and compulsory heterosexuality. chappell sings about a woman she was in a relationship with who decided to settle down in a conventional marriage despite being queer. the song reflects the denial a lot of queer people go through (specifically regarding the lesbian experience) and the unfortunate way a lot of them end up repressing who they are to conform to societal standards. it's fun, it's campy, but its message is still poignant.
as for karma… there's nothing inherently queer about that song. the music video for the original version, ‘karma’s a bitch’ by brit smith, featured a heterosexual storyline. jojo buying the rights to a song she didn't write isn't inherently a bad thing, a lot of mainstream artists do that all the time. however, if you're claiming to be a pioneer of the “gay pop” genre and your music doesn't reflect any queer themes or experiences, is it really “gay pop”? again, queer artists don't have to write exclusively about their queerness, but if you try to present yourself as a voice for the queer community without telling any of their stories, you're not going to be lauded as some revolutionary figure. if any of the songs on jojo’s album are actually about her experience as a lesbian or contain any queer themes, then i think she'd qualify as a “gay pop” artist. but so far, she's given us a faux edgy, generic pop song and tried to market it as some insane never-been-done-before feat. and honestly, if her entire album is like this and she continues to market herself this way, it's a slap in the face to all the genuine artists and storytellers in the queer community.
but let's stop talking about jojo siwa and start talking about the incredible queer artists who are truly breathing life into the "gay pop" genre: chappell roan, renee rapp, ben platt, conan gray, girl in red, kevin atwater, baby queen, mitski, clairo, dodie, and SO MANY MORE (feel free to add on some of your favourites because there are so many wonderful artists out there <3)
also: if you have a different perspective on this situation i would absolutely love to hear what you think and if you agree / disagree with this! i love discussing topics like this so feel free to reblog with your own take
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gureumz · 1 year
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grateful sinners
rating: explicit
member: jake
premise: growing up in a religious community (a cult?), you and your friend jake stumble upon "forbidden" media one day. of course, you know about sex but what the elders taught you was never this dirty. overcome with curiosity, you promise each other to never speak of what you're about to do to anyone.
notes: religious themes, implied cult behavior, slight (?) blasphemy, virgin!jake x virgin!reader, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), first time, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, desperate touch-starved, jesus loving virgins tryna fuck
a/n: third of my 1k follower special! can you tell i have deep religious trauma? lmaoooo but this was rlly fun to write, if not a little tedious but i enjoyed it nonetheless! hope you do, too &lt;3
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the day was as beautiful as any other.
the early morning sun peeking behind the nearby hill, the smell of wet grass, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair.
you breathe in more of the valley air, letting your eyes close for a moment. everything is so still, hours and hours before the first worship of the day when the whole commune will surely come fully alive. at this moment, you're sure you're closer to God than ever.
a whispered prayer breaks the silence.
"i do not deserve such beauty before me, God," you mumble, eyes still closed. "but you are most merciful and i, a grateful sinner."
a silence, still. nothing or no one responds to your profession of gratitude, but that is to be expected. God works silently, as the elders say.
"i'm deciding if the beauty is on the horizon in front of us or in your face, ________," a voice breaks through, shattering the tranquil veil that envelops you.
you turn and you can't help the jolt in your chest. you grin widely and jake smiles back, hands in his pockets and his pants already soaked with morning dew from the grass.
"don't say that," you warn. "my mom might hear."
jake makes a show of looking around, gazing past you at the squat houses sitting peacefully without movement.
"i don't see her," jake says with a shrug. you laugh.
"you know how she hates it when people make light of God's word. your jokes are definitely her least favorite," you remind him, stepping closer.
jake eyes you. being noticeably taller and broader, it gives him the perfect view of your face as the dawn sun hits your delicate features.
his hair is messy, partly sticking to his forehead with the other half of his raven locks hanging over his eyes. you know his father would berate him for that. children of the pastor are expected to appear presentable in front of the whole commune as a way to honor God and his divine image.
but the commune is nowhere to be seen. it's just you looking.
and jake is used to you looking.
growing up together, with his mom and yours being close friends, your mother's unwavering devotion to the commune, and her undying support to jake's father's cause as pastor, it's no surprise that the two of you have been inseparable.
despite the clear division between the men and women of the commune, you and jake always found your way to each other. sneaking in glances, waving from afar before you start mass, and even despite your own mother's prudish ways, you know she felt at ease when jake was around you.
nothing has been said, but you're sure that when both of you reach the age of matrimony, you'd be wed to each other. you have to be.
"what are you doing out here so early?" you continue with a question, resisting the urge to toy with the wisps of hair on jake's temples.
you're forbidden to touch or be touched by any man that isn't your family. the only exception to this is his father, the pastor, free to lay his healing hands upon anyone he deems in need of it.
jake parts his lips to answer but pauses, as if choosing the appropriate thing to say.
"some of my friends and i wanted to hang out by the river," jake supplies, gesturing toward the general direction of the river just beyond the hill.
"doing what?" you ask. the men are usually tasked with heavy farm work in the morning. in your mind, a leisurely stroll by the river before all that labor seemed hardly reasonable.
jake hesitates again, now toying with his bottom lip, the plump, rosy skin growing even redder with every pinch jake delivers to it.
"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say, flashing jake a reassuring smile.
"i'm not lying," jake replies almost instantly, a nervous spark in his eyes. "we really were by the river. we were...looking at something."
you cock your head to the side. jake comes even closer and the hairs on your arm stand on end, the faint scent of jake's sweat and soap reaching your nose. if you reach out now, you could easily wrap both arms around him, pull him close, and never let go.
"jay's dad brings our harvest to the nearby city market, right? well, jay went with him yesterday and he nicked this...book or something from the gas station," jake rambles, fidgeting with his fingers.
your eyes widen.
"it was glossy and the pages smelled nice. we don't have those kinds of books here, don't we?" jake continues, but your ears have started ringing in alarm.
"jay stole? jake, you know he needs to confess and repent," you whisper, taken aback.
jake gives you a look and you nearly tremble at the intensity in his irises. without warning, jake lets his fingertips graze your arm, instantly pulling away right after. you flinch, cradling your arm against your chest as if you've been burned.
"it's wrong, i know, but...haven't you thought of breaking the rules, even once? some of the people here talk about all the exciting things they've seen or done before, all because they broke one small rule. do you ever stop to think that it could be...fun?" jake questions, voice low. his eyes are wide and shaking, darting to and fro as if committing your whole face to memory.
"i—," you begin, unsure of what to say. you have thought of asking, even begging your mom to let you out into the city for one day. to see all the outsiders and their strange clothes and loud music.
but you could never go through with it. your mom would tell the pastor of your sinful curiosity the minute the words would leave your mouth.
"stealing is not breaking one small rule," you protest.
jake huffs out a breath. "aren't you tired of all of this? all of this forbidden stuff?"
you shake your head, trying to wrap your head around the words coming out of jake's mouth.
"your father's the pastor, jake," you say, voice trembling. "how could you..."
"the book had these pictures," jake cuts in, voice picking up as if it excited him to recount what he saw.
"the women in the book...they were naked."
you take a step back, clamping a hand down on your mouth.
"jake, what's gotten into you?" you question, heart beating wildly.
"i just want to know about the outside world, ________," jake reasons, running a hand through his hair.
"it's not as bad as the elders make it out to be," jake continues. "i haven't burst into flames, have i?"
you merely stare, uneasy at how blatant jake is about his sinful acts.
"do you want to see? i could borrow it from jay," jake offers, voice dropping to an even quieter whisper.
you stand there, a million different thoughts running through you. in all honesty, you wanted to take a look, never having seen any naked body other than your own. but even now, knowing that she was nowhere near, you could feel your mother's burning gaze on you. disappointed, intimidating, warning you to be a good child of God or face the wrath of hell.
you know this is wrong, or so you've been told. jake is treading a dangerous path and he seems adamant on roping you along. and yet...
"yes," you answer before you could stop yourself.
"b-but wait! how are you going to show me? we have to be careful," you hurriedly add, glancing around in case anyone was near enough to hear the atrocities you and jake are talking about.
"there's a secret back room in one of the barns. i go there to rest during breaks or after work and no one else ever goes there," jake hurriedly says, crowding back into your personal space. you notice the slight shake in his hands and the way his ears redden.
"o-okay," you say with a nod. "when?"
"later tonight," jake offers.
"during supper, we can sneak out while everyone else eats," jake continues. you feel his fingers on your arm again and this time, jake lets his whole hand flatten against the sleeve of your dress, his warmth seeping down to your skin.
you gasp, but stay frozen. jake's other hand lays on your waist and you shake uncontrollably, both terrified and excited at the prospect of jake touching you.
jake pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. he's breathing just as hard as you.
"you know, i thought about...if you would look the same as the women in the book," jake murmurs, eyes closed.
you shiver. you should be appalled, disgusted by how jake is acting now, but all you feel is a warm, bubbling feeling in your abdomen and an insatiable itch to clutch at jake's clothes.
"jake, we can't—," you begin, but the deep toll of the church bell interrupts you, signaling the start of the day.
you and jake spring apart, knowing that the whole commune would be outside in a matter of minutes, heading off to their designated duties for the day.
before you could get another word in, jake rushes forward, kissing you. you gasp, but as if on instinct, your hands grasp at his face. a second later, you thread your fingers through his hair, the strands offering little resistance as you gently tug, just as you've always dreamed of doing. but as quickly as it started, jake pulls away, pushing you back at the same time.
"tonight," jake breathes out, walking backward. "at dinner. the last barn to the left."
you nod once, pausing for a moment as you watch jake tread further away from you. you wave before sprinting toward your house.
your mother would be in the kitchen. you would be assigned with peeling the oranges. or cooking the eggs. or buttering the toast.
to you, at this moment, it didn't really matter.
all your eyes could see, all your heart could feel is jake.
---
dinner was a tense affair.
your mom questioned your uncharacteristic early start this morning, and all you could do was supply a pathetic lie about wanting to see the rose garden started by some of the older women in the commune.
she made a point to warn you to be on time for dinner. you felt an uneasiness settle in your stomach at this, thinking of all the ways your and jake's plan could go wrong.
but rushing out of the mess hall now, legs pumping as you dash through the field toward the barns, all of your worries melt away.
you remember the kiss, jake's fingers digging into your side, his smooth hair in between your fingers.
having separate dining halls for the men and women, you weren't sure when jake would be there, but you decided you had to leave as soon as you can. you feigned a stomachache to your mother, excusing yourself to the bathroom.
you knew this was yet another lame excuse, but you went the rest of the day without seeing jake. you were subjected to teach the younger ones about scripture today at the school, but all you wanted was to feel jake again. to see him. to touch him.
you slow down as you approach the barns, jogging over to the last one to the left. your breathing is heavy, beads of sweat collecting on your forehead. another shiver of excitement goes through you as you push the barn door open.
the barn is one of the unused ones, a single light turned on at the very back. you walk toward the dim bulb, the glass-encased fluorescent hanging precariously by a thin wire.
you realize quite belatedly that jake never gave any specifics on how to find the secret room. but just then, you hear a faint shuffle to your left. despite the darkness, you can make out the faint outline of a head peeking out from behind a stack of hay.
"jake," you whisper, crossing the space between you in long strides.
jake emerges from the shadows, an easy smile on his face.
"it's back here," jake ushers you behind the tower of hay, his hand easily finding yours. "hurry, before anyone sees us."
you tighten your grip on jake's hand, the same feeling of exhilaration building up within you. you watch as jake approaches the section of the wall that's hidden behind the hay, pulling open a flimsy door that's half your height, cleverly disguised as part of the wall. inside, you can barely make out the soft flickering of candlelight.
jake nudges you forward. "it's a tight squeeze but it's comfortable enough inside."
you crouch, laying your hands on the dirt floor to steady yourself. you scurry forward through the door and emerge on the other side.
the space inside the room is enough for two, tall enough for you to stand in. you straighten up, dusting yourself off. jake follows inside, shutting the door behind him.
you look around and spot a metal box in one corner next to the single candle burning. a blanket is spread out on the ground.
"here," jake says, pulling you gently towards the blanket. you sit down, perching yourself right across jake.
jake takes hold of the metal box, unlatching the lid. inside, you can see a number of trinkets and other objects.
"are those...cigarettes?" you ask in disbelief. jake chuckles, brandishing the red and white box.
"found them in dad's safe," jake replies nonchalantly. "this one, too."
jake holds up a glossy rectangle, flipping it so it faces you. you let out an audible gasp.
"a phone? but we're not allowed phones," you say, letting jake place the device on your palm.
"i know. but that's my dad's. you know how the elders are the only ones allowed phones. so, i took his." jake is grinning now, the candlelight casting sharp shadows across his handsome face.
"but, how? doesn't he notice? what's in it?" you rattle off, turning the phone over in your hands.
"i bring it back every night once i'm done exploring what's inside," jake explains. he reaches over, pressing a button on its side. a moment later, it lights up, momentarily blinding you with how close you're holding it to your face.
you stare in awe as the screen comes alive. it dims after it fully turns on, displaying in big, blocky letters the time of night.
6:51
supper would be over soon.
jake takes the phone from you, setting it down on the blanket between you two.
"we can look at that later," jake reassures. "i got the book from jay at lunch today."
you swallow as jake pulls out the book from the very bottom of the box. jake moves the candle closer and your eyes instantly go wide.
the front of the book is glossy, indeed, just like jake said it would be. but the woman pictured on it seemed too lifelike, as if she wasn't merely printed on paper. her tan skin is on full display, with nothing covering her body but a bathing suit, one you've seen outsiders wear the few times you've seen pictures of them.
the bathing suit is black, the neckline going down almost to her stomach. you see the side of her breasts peek out from the garment holding it in place, and from what you can see, her whole back seems to be bare.
your eyes drift down to her crotch, covered by a thin strip of fabric. she stands, legs apart, her hands on her waist, baring her entire naked body to the world.
the longer you stare, the hotter you feel. an ache between your legs starts to make itself known.
"there's even more inside," jake whispers, sidling up to you. he presses his shoulder against yours as he reaches over to flip the book open.
your eyes scan the text on the next page, coming across a word you don't hear or see often.
"magazine," you mumble. a memory pings in your head.
"mom told me about magazines. this is a magazine," you say in mild amazement. "she says they're full of lies and are forbidden in the commune."
"magazine," jake repeats, drawing out the word slowly. he flips through more pages, stopping at one with a woman pushing her naked chest out.
your heartbeat quickens. you trace your finger over the picture, passing over the image of her plump breast, perky with a pinkish hue around the nipple.
you recall the science classes at the school. the teacher had recited the parts of the woman's body in a flat, monotonous voice. nipple. areola. vagina. cervix. she drilled it in everyone's head that these parts are not to be said aloud outside of the classroom.
"mine doesn't look like that," you comment absentmindedly. "they're not as...round."
you look up to see jake staring intently at you. his eyes drift down to your chest and you feel a new wave of heat wash over you.
jake licks his lips as he shifts closer, and as if compelled by his own actions, you do the same, facing jake fully.
you touch the buttons on the front of your dress.
you know what you're about to say and do next is beyond sinful. but you've already crossed the line the second you laid your eyes upon the magazine. a strange desire bubbles up inside you.
"do you want to see?" you ask quietly, watching jake's expression carefully.
"can i?" jake asks back, peering into your eyes. you can smell him again, faint lavender adding to the mix of his scent. you imagine jake in the bath, naked, water and bubbles washing over his skin.
you shudder involuntarily.
"yes," you breathe out.
you start to undo your dress, hands shaking. you've never done this before. you're forbidden to. you know God watches you now with disdainful eyes, but you can hardly find it in you to care.
you undo the last button, pulling the sleeves of your dress down and off your arms. the night is chilly and you shiver as the air meets your skin.
unmarried women in the commune are advised not to wear bras as they are still considered pure and innocent and in no need of such womanly garments.
so you sit, barechested in front of jake, shaking in the cold, in anticipation, in mild fear.
jake's jaw goes slack, taking in the image in front of him. he glances back at the magazine before returning his gaze to your own breasts. you resist the urge to cross your arms.
instead, you reach over, delicate fingers wrapping around jake's wrists. you guide them up, stopping right above your waiting chest.
"here," you whisper, but your voice sounds strangely loud in the silence of the night. "touch me, jake,"
you place his hands over your mounds and you gasp at the abrupt warmth. jake chews on his lip, fingers softly kneading your skin.
"do you touch yourself like this?" jake asks, eyes still wide in amazement and curiosity. he gives a light squeeze and you whimper, covering your mouth to stop yourself from crying out.
"sometimes," you say, voice slightly muffled behind your palm. "in the bath. when no one's looking."
jake exhales, pulling his hands back momentarily. he lines his pointer finger with your nipples, flicking up experimentally. you groan, throwing your head back.
"it feels good," you breathe out. "jake, it feels good all over."
jake pinches your nipples and you yelp, falling forward against jake. he catches you, cradling you to his chest. you breathe onto his neck, a warm stickiness pooling under your skirt.
"touch me, too," jake says right in your ear. he guides your hand on his crotch and your fingers curl around something stiff.
"please," jake implores, voice high and almost whining.
you watch in fascination as jake strains against his trousers. you caress up and down, feeling him harden even more under your touch. jake squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around your waist.
"sit over me," jake commands, pulling you onto his lap. there's a loud roaring in your ears as something overtakes your body completely.
"keep touching me and i'll do the same," jake instructs, returning his hands to your chest. he curls his fingers into your flesh and your mouth opens in a silent scream.
you take ahold of jake through his pants, squeezing and rubbing. jake is bucking into your hand, small breaths escaping his lips.
your head is spinning, your cheeks are flushed, and a faint guilt tugs at your chest. but you've thrown all care out the window, the only thing on your mind being jake's rough fingers tugging and pinching and grabbing at your breasts.
the bubble of heat in this little room breaks when you hear the dark notes of the church bell ringing, marking the end of supper.
you gasp, pulling away from jake as he does the same. you hurriedly button up your dress, trying to calm your breathing. jake gathers the things strewn on the floor, tossing them back into his box.
you stand, smoothing down your dress and tucking your hair back behind your ear. no words are spoken as jake blows the candle out, pushing the door open to free both of you.
you scramble out of the small space, heart still pumping wildly against your chest. you feel jake's hand rest on one side of your face, urging you to look at him.
"meet me by the river early tomorrow," jake says, now holding your face with both hands.
you blink, unsure of what to say. the rush of blood is still loud in your ears and all you want is for jake to touch you again. to keep touching you.
to touch you forever.
"please," jake adds, running his thumb over your bottom lip. you quiver at the action, stilling only when you feel him press his lips against yours.
your lips part and so does his, and as if guided by something else, your tongues move into each other's mouths, licking and sucking and breathing into and from each other.
you feel dirty, sinful even. but you start to wonder why you cared so much in the first place.
"tomorrow," jake repeats, pulling away.
the bells toll even louder. you run out of the barn without a second thought, eyes dancing with excitement, lips tender, and one single button of your dress undone.
---
you toss and turn all night.
flashes of jake invade your mind, pulling you out of sleep just as you feel yourself drifting. the way he breathed against your face. the stiffness in your hand. the pleading in his voice.
you prayed, too. prayed to God for forgiveness, for mercy. but you prayed for jake, too. to feel his lips again, to have his hands on other parts of your body.
you cry, quietly and pathetically, ashamed in the face of God. ashamed because the arousal hasn't left you. it burns almost painfully and you wish and you pray and you beg for morning to come.
you glance at the clock next to your bed and see that it's half past five a.m. you ran into jake at six yesterday, so he should be at the river by now if you're to go off of that.
you quickly dress yourself, careful to keep your movements precise and quick so as to not wake anyone in your house.
you practically float down the stairs on your toes, nimbly avoiding all the loose floorboards you know would make a sound.
you steal one glance back inside your house before taking off. you walk at first, trying to calm your nerves, but you build up to a run once you pass through the fence's gate, feeling the morning air whipping at your face.
the climb up the hill, usually a strenuous effort on your end, seems like nothing on this day, your legs taking you over it in no time.
you can see the river now, and you see the faraway figure of someone hunched over, sitting on the riverbank. excitement rips through you and you're running, running faster than you've ever had.
jake hears you before he sees you, your breathing loud and labored and your boots stomping against the wet grass. he turns to see you slowing down to a jog as you approach him.
he stands, wordlessly meeting you as you sink into his arms.
you kiss and the roar of desire is back, a single flame flickering in the blue-hued, early-morning world that surrounds you.
jake pulls you towards an area behind a large tree, and you see that the same blanket from last night is laid out on the grass. without parting your lips, jake pulls you down with him on the spread-out cloth, laying you down.
"i watched things on dad's phone last night," jake admits, kissing your jaw. you squirm underneath him, his lips sending a ticklish sensation over you.
"i watched people do it," jake murmurs against your skin, lips dragging down your neck.
"i watched them make love."
you pull jake away from where he's kissing you behind your ear, a questioning look on your face.
"you can...watch people make love? on the phone?" you ask meekly, trying to understand how some people can let such a sacred act be seen by anyone other than themselves and God.
jake nods, hands smoothing up your sides. "yes. and they do it so loudly, so roughly, so vulgarly. not like how we're taught."
you stare, wide-eyed. "what?"
"they curse a lot," jake adds. "and they call on God's name so much. we're told to never do that unless in praise."
your breath hitches when you feel jake smooth his hands over your clothed chest. you feel your nipples stiffen under his touch.
"what if it felt so good to them, they needed to call on God?" you whisper. jake ponders on this for a moment, eyes scanning over your face.
"i want to feel as good as them," jake finally says. he starts to undo your dress, the same way you did last night.
"we're going to...to make love?" you ask as jake slots himself between your legs. you feel the same stiffness from last night press up against your thigh.
"please," jake responds, pulling your dress open. your nipples are taut, begging to be touched.
jake dips his head down, latching his mouth onto one of your nubs, sending your whole body spasming. you moan, a new kind of pleasure coursing through your veins. jake presses his hips onto yours, right between your legs and you nearly cry at how good the pressure feels.
you push your core against jake's own crotch, swiveling your hips around trying to find the delicious friction you felt.
"i want to, please. i want to, so bad," jake pleads against your chest.
jake bunches your skirt around your torso, exposing your lower half and the thin, white, commune-approved underwear you have.
"please," you whine, not even sure of what you're saying.
"me, too. make love to me, jake."
jake groans, sitting upright, hands already tugging at his belt. he undoes the buckle, unzipping his pants before pulling the garments down to his thighs.
you stare half in awe and half in curiosity as jake strokes himself a few times. a clear liquid spills from the tip and you feel your mouth involuntarily water.
"can i take this off?" jake asks, hooking a finger under the hem of your underwear. you nod, cringing slightly as you feel the sticky fabric pull away from your skin as jake discards of it.
"it's so wet," jake observes, reaching down to run a finger between your folds.
"ngh!" you cry out, twitching at the sudden contact. no one has ever touched you down there. you've never touched yourself down there other than to wash.
jake presses the pads of his fingers against your core, rubbing lightly. you throw your head back, thighs already shaking.
"does this feel good?" jake asks, pressing down harder. you nod again, unable to form any coherent thoughts or sentences.
"i saw that they did this," jake says before plunging a finger into your hole.
stars burst right before your eyes when you feel jake push his thick digit into you. the feeling is foreign, a weird pressure but pleasurable nonetheless.
jake pumps it in and out of you, observing your face as he does so. you open your eyes to meet his and you see jake's pupils blown wide, his whole face a light tint of pink.
"still good?" jake asks.
"yes," you gasp, your hips pushing off the ground as you try to chase more of this feeling.
"some of them...," jake begins, pausing his movements. you start to protest but your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel jake push in another finger.
"...use two."
a slight burn at the added stretch makes you wince, your hand coming down to grab jake's wrist.
"s-slowly," you supply, opening your legs wider. jake nods in understanding, moving his fingers at a gentler pace.
you mewl, feeling the drag of his knuckles against your inner walls. you're dizzy with pleasure, overwhelmed with the thought that something could feel this good.
"it keeps coming out of you," jake says in awe. "you're getting even wetter."
"it feels so good," you gasp. "jake, please."
"what should i do?" jake asks, leaning over you. you look up, jake's face right in front of yours. not knowing what else to do, you pull him down to you in a kiss.
jake moans against your lips, speeding up his movements in and out of you. you cry into the kiss, never wanting this feeling to end.
"i-i'll put it in," jake whispers into your mouth.
jake pulls his fingers out of you and you fight the instinct to whine. jake sits back on his heels, watching as you clench around nothing.
you see his gaze darken as he takes in the sight of your dripping core, his hand coming down to pump at his shaft.
"it might hurt," jake warns. "that's what they told us."
you smile weakly. "us, too."
jake grins back at you, scooting forward to line himself up with you. jake presses the tip against your hole, watching for your reaction. he slides a little more in, and you let out a squeak.
"it's much bigger than your fingers," you say, with slight panic in your voice.
"i'm here," jake says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "you'll be okay."
you feel jake push in some more and your whole body jerks in surprise. tears prickle your eyes but you focus on evening out your breathing. underneath the evident sting, a steady throb of pleasure beats down in your core.
"it feels so warm," jake gasps out. "God help me."
jake sinks all the way in, unable to contain himself, and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling jake deep in you. you're afraid to move in case it starts to hurt more.
"f-fuck," jake curses, hips pulling back before sinking all the way in again. you cover your mouth with both hands, unsure of all the feelings you're having at the moment.
"i'm sorry," jake whispers, kissing your cheek, then your nose, then both of your eyes. "i-it feels too good."
"it's okay," you reply, trying to contain the tremor in your voice. "keep going. it feels better now."
and it does. the more jake moves, the more you could relax. jake hits a spot inside you that completely overrides the nearly unbearable stretch and it takes everything in you not to double over in surprise.
"again," you say. "just like that."
jake stops for a moment before repeating the angle in which he thrusted in you.
there it is again. a jolt of electricity goes through your abdomen and you shudder in delight.
"yes!" you cry out. "m-more."
jake picks up his speed, careful to keep it the same way you like it. it's as if the gates of heaven themselves have opened, showing you a world of pleasure you've never seen or experienced before.
the stretch has dulled now, and the fullness you feel adds to the coil in your stomach, tighter and tighter with each thrust.
you wrap your legs around jake's waist, wanting him, needing him closer.
jake lays himself over you, his chest pressed to yours, his hips moving nonstop. you've started to meet his movements, chasing something you're not quite sure exactly what.
"it does feel good," you manage to say between moans. "so good."
jake pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you.
"have you ever finished before?" jake questions. your eyebrows pinch together and you shake your head. jake slows down, grinding into you shallowly.
"finished?" you repeat.
"yeah, when you pleasure yourself, you finish," jake recounts. you shake your head again.
"we're not allowed to, remember? i've never touched myself that way," you admit bashfully.
"it's okay," jake reassures, kissing you softly. "you'll feel it here."
jake lays a hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down. you inhale, fingernails digging into jake's shoulder.
"move faster," you request. "but keep pressing there."
jake looks at you in bewilderment but follows nonetheless. he picks up his pace again, still keeping his hand on your stomach. you feel a pressure build up where jake is pressing and you feel your whole body shake.
"you're getting tighter," jake says through gritted teeth, trying to maintain his movements.
"s-sorry, feels too good," you apologize.
"i think i feel it," you add. "keep going, please."
this sends jake into a frenzy, hips snapping at a speed you can't keep up with. you let out a sob as you feel your entire being ignite with every push of jake's shaft in you.
"i can feel myself," jake points out. "i can feel myself through your belly, God."
the words confuse you but you look down to see jake protruding through your lower abdomen with every thrust. the sight sends your brain into overdrive and you moan your loudest as a white-hot current rips through you.
you vaguely hear jake groan as he roughly grabs your hips, keeping you in place. he pumps in and out of you a few more times before stopping. you continue to swivel your hips, squirming at the strange sensation that's taking over your body.
eventually, you relax, feeling strangely peaceful. you feel lightheaded but in the best way, as if you're floating on clouds.
jake grunts, pulling himself out of you. the sensation makes you cringe and you feel something drip out between your legs.
"is that—is that your seed?" you ask in mild disbelief, though still too out of it to care much.
"yeah," jake says, nodding, collecting the drops of himself that spilled out before poking his finger back in you.
"jake!" you protest, still much too sesitive.
jake pulls his finger out and grins at you. he settles beside you, pulling you onto his chest.
---
the church bell tolls not long after.
the early morning sun rises above the tree line, and if you were to stand on the other side of the hill, you would have watched the orange glow with amazement and bated breath.
there's a breeze that blows through your messy hair and the smell of morning dew on the grass is mixed with jake's lavender soap.
breathing in the valley air, another prayer falls quietly from your lips.
"we do not deserve your forgiveness," you say . "but you are most merciful and we, are merely grateful sinners."
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Astrology Observations: No.20
*just based on my opinions, only take what resonates
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I feel like 2nd house overlays can make you overly forgiving towards the person with planets in your 2nd house. It’s a Venusian house and that can bring a sort of desire to see the best in that person (7th can have this effect to a lesser degree imo bc Libra is focused on balance, so there’s affection there but it’s less likely to skew into being overly forgiving)
Chiron in the first can be a very beautiful person when they’ve really healed their wounds. A person who has a sort of glow from their inner light.
Earth moons in general like to receive and give gifts and Capricorn moons tend to be hyper fixated on giving the right gifts to the people they’re close to
5th house Venus could make you more creative in a relationship
7th house venus/Taurus/Libra definitely creates more in a healthy relationship
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Mars conjunct MC could mean being known for a career in violence, like martial artist or action star
Lilith MC could mean success in a taboo career, like s*x work or just some alternative field (I’m a tattoo artist :0)
People with planets conjunct your south node are definitely tied to your past life and may be destined to do certain actions towards/with you
North Node overlays can also be tied to past life but they’re usually here to make sure you grow in some capacity/move towards your destiny.
Your Venus sign could show the most beloved features of your body (Sagittarius Venus- a lot of people may notice your legs, Libra Venus- a lot of people may notice your butt, Virgo Venus- a lot of people may notice your hands, etc)
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Moon conjunct Jupiter could make you very empathetic, could also make people see your emotions as big whenever you express them
Imo Virgo shows where you are a minimalist (Virgo Asc usually has a minimalist approach to fashion/accessories/tattoos/etc, Virgo Venus or Virgo in 11th could point to having a circle of only a few friends, Virgo in 4th could show a minimally decorated home, etc)
Aries risings tend to have big heads/foreheads or their heads are the first things people notice about them (my mom used to get called tweety bird bc she had a big head and a little body which was mean, but so is she so…..)
Pisces moons tend have this look like they could cry at any time (like their eyes always look wet and sad if that makes sense lol)
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Wherever Pluto aspects (trine, Sextile) your personal planets shows where you can be the most transformative (or obsessive/possessive lowkey, especially for harsh aspects like square/oppositions— conjunct feels the intensity of both). Moon can show that your emotions push you to transform, Venus is this for your personal/romantic relationships, Saturn is how you use the lessons it teaches and how it affects your self discipline, etc
Leo in 6th could point to dealing with performance anxiety
Cancer in 8th could point to trauma around family (Scorpio over 4th could point to this too)
Gemini in 8th could point to trauma with neighbors/siblings/cousins/the education system or communication in general (Scorpio over 3rd could point to this too)
Sagittarius in 8th can point to having religious trauma or having intense/taboo experience with religion (Scorpio over 9th could point to this too)
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Capricorn can show where you start to lose yourself and can’t go through with when your stressed (I have Capricorn in 3rd and I literally lose my voice when I internalize stress, it’ll start cracking so fast it’s spooky. Capricorn in 5th could mean you absolutely cannot relax when your stressed. In 6th your health starts to act up immediately and you catch colds. In 1st you may have issues with your skin/breakouts when you’re stressed out.)
Mercury in 12th could stay up all night overthinking or experiencing intrusive thoughts
Virgo moons that oversimplify are underdeveloped
The mother of a Capricorn moon views love as super transactional (like if you don’t give them a hug you don’t love them, instead of the child being a person who deserves their own autonomy)(I was watching Beef and I got frickin triggered when Ali Wong’s character said her daughter was “supposed to love her forever” but wouldn’t give her a hug when Ali wanted her to, so she thought her daughter’s love was conditional— I was like holy sh*t I’ve heard that before!! Lol Saturn moon gang lol)
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Hii, I'm glad you're back . Even if it was for a few days you really left a place in tumblr not just for your work but for your presence itself.
I had a question for a while and I'm sorry if you answered it before and I seemed to not notice , if that's the case then forgive my ignorance but I was wondering , since sebek seems to respect his grandfather alot and has inherited the hate for humans from him and it's a known fact in self-aware au that the faes 'love' the overseer alot I must say.. does that mean that sebek also inherited his 'love' for the overseer from his granpa? If so how did green grandpa see the overseer, what made him 'love' them and how does he show it .
If you don't want to write this then feel free to ignore it , hope you have a great day and don't forget to drink water and eat well<33
Hi there Anon. It's so sweet of you to say that. I didn't think I would have made such an impression on anyone. But I completely forgot to write about Sebeks grandfather -_-
Well, better late than never.
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Self-aware au
WARNINGS: Jp-version spoiler (like, the whole thing!!!), (Platonic!) yandere themes, war, religion, unhealthy mindset, isolation, unhealthy family dynamic
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(Platonic!) Yandere headcanons
Ah yes, our local way too loud and loyal member of the reptilian family. No need to to worry about him. I mean, what could go wrong? (Hehe…)
Baul was not from the Valley of Thorns. Growing up in Sunset Savannah he did not grow up with the beliefs of the Faes (in other words, he was not part of a religious cult)
So imagine the huge shock he felt when he finally became a solider under the Draconia banner and started to become more and more like the other Faes
Well, for starters, yes, he wasn't indoctrinated into the whole church thing since birth but also wasn't raised to see you as an equal like the beastmen of the Savannah
You could say that he was a healthy mixture of both
Emphasis on the “was”
You see, isolation and being the only one sticking out (if we discount the humans invading the valley) does leave you open for a lot of things
If we count two (being the surroundings he was in) and two (his more or less unnoticed loneliness) together, we can see pretty fast where that led
Never mind his superior (and friend I mean come on they might as well be brothers) Lilia constantly rambling about the Overseer, savior of all, and how you accepted everyone in your kind embrace
Ok. Nice. Neat. Great. In the beginning, Baul wasn't very interested in joining any kind of religion
But the longer the war held on, the more he wished there was someone he could ask for help in his task of protecting those he deemed close to himself (you see the generational pattern?)
At some point, even the proudest of all can't hold on for forever
So he turned to you, the supposed God that was on so gentle
And goddamn that religious gaslighting and placebo effect worked damn well
Not only did he feel like there was someone there who supported him from somewhere in the universe (even though that was just him believing too much but let have him have some hope, ok?) but also he finally had a community
Whenever he would leave one of the many churches in the valley a Fae would approach, thanking him for protecting their home
Sooner than later did the former non-believer think of himself as your chosen shield of the valley
The war came and went away
If only the same thing could be said about Bauls new religious beliefs
And when he saw that grandson of his, cute little chubby hands that gripped a wooden toy sword tightly, he knew that his position as the valleys shield would not cease
Yes, even Baul would die one day. Fae or not, he was at the end of the day mortal
But that talent of his grandson would surely be of use to you, right?
If his younger self would see him like this, would it run away? Would it feel disgust at the thought that his future self would use his own grandson for selfish, religious reasons?
If only Baul knew that “God” didn't even know they were living beings that existed in a different world…
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