#do not take worldly advice

[yeslordmyking]

[Jesus said,] 'I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me — just as the... [ Read devo thought and prayer for this Bible verse ]

[redwineandtarot]

Who are you?

hi! today's pac is all about you. i want to say that every person has so many layers and this a general (and a too short to describe a person fully) reading. so please keep this in mind while reading. you may be drawn to more than one pile in this reading as well. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3

decks used: raider waite tarot deck, ethereal visions tarot deck, spirit animal oracle deck, the soul's journey lesson cards, moonology oracle cards, archetypes cards

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Disclaimer:My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.

pick a pile

pile 1-2

pile 3-4

i do not own any of these photos

pile 1

I see that you mostly radiate feminine energy. And you are highly spiritual in some way. You have a gift of manifesting. Of course everybody can manifest things intentionally but your approach is kinda different? It is like you have mastered manifesting from the get go.

You may also have a great protective barrier around you. I kinda struggled to read your energy. You really have a highly spiritual vibe. Even if you are not that spiritual you have the “gift”. Everybody can be spiritual, I mean, however something about you feels different. I cannot really put my finger to it.

Number 4 may be significant. 

You have really strong feminine energy and like the feminine energy you can deal with chaos. You can bring chaos in an intentional way. You are not afraid to put an end to things and start new. You can use chaos to manifest the things you want.

Water element may be significant.

While you are a spiritual person you know when to use your logic. Your logic and spiritual sides are not in war but they, together, help you move through life. 

You may sometimes be sharp with your words despite you giving me a calm energy. You have a calm and intentional chaos. You may be witty and win arguments easily.

You may sometimes be indecisive about your intuition. You may have a knowing inside you but just because you don't see a real life “proof”, so you may find it hard to believe it.

You may also have guilt while enjoying worldly pleasures. In the end we are still living in a material world so do not shy away from them. As long as you do not have addictions and know when to say “no”  it is okay, pile 1.

Embrace your chaotic side.

Extra messages

You may have been waiting for a manifestation for a long time. Do not worry it will come in an unexpected time. Whatever you are doing, keep going. 

I also see an unexpected emotional situation happening. You may be meeting someone new (romantic or platonic), you may hear something that will make you feel really happy or this again may be your manifestation coming and you feeling intense emotions regarding that.

saturn, sagittarius, 3rd house

thank you for reading <3

pile 2

You are a highly creative person, pile 2. For most of you, this is a creativeness in art, music etc. However this can be in other things as well. Or you may bring this side of yourself to your daily life while being a creative person in art. You are really original when it comes to creativity.

You have a colorful personality. You may use art to heal yourself. You may be expressing things that you cannot while talking with others through your art. Some of you had nothing but art/music while you were growing up so it became like your friend. It healed you.

Number 5 may be significant.

You have a child-like energy to you. You are in balance with your emotions. Maybe because of these two qualities you are able to create such wonderful things.

You have spirit guides that are near you a lot. They encourage you on your path. See you like their friend.

Another intuitive pile. You have a great intuition. You may want to try channeling through art.

You may hide your sorrows, abandoning them almost sometimes. But you try to nurture your inner child. I am not sure what happened in the past pile 2, it is probably different for each one of you but i want to say that you are such a brave person for not leaving your inner child alone. Something that happened in your childhood(mostly) or teenage years may have scarred you a lot and you are still trying to heal yourself. 

People may envy your creativity. And see you as an abundant person. And you probably are. And I see you living an abundant life. (Abundance may be in different or multiple things) You deserve it pile 2.

Your words are powerful. I see lots of different talents: singing, painting, writing etc. 

Extra messages

Do not burden yourself with little details. You may benefit from slowing down a bit and looking at the bigger picture.

Maybe you need a little vacation or an adventure.

sagittarius, 5th house, north node

thank you for reading <3

pile 3

You are a healer in some sort of way pile 3. You may be the mom friend of the group. You may work/ want to work in a medical field or a field where you help beings. But for most of you it is related to health. You are great at giving advice and hyping people up. You see the little details in people that they may not see. You are a detail-oriented person. Your observations are on point most of the time.

You have what it takes to be a great leader. 

You are a multifaceted person.

You may be more on the quiet side. But not because you are shy, it is just a preference. You probably have a friend group that you would give so much to. You love and prefer grounded relationships. You are not likely to have a big friend group or a friend group whose bonds are loose. You like your alone time.

Spirit is protecting your loved ones.

You are ready to work hard for the things you want. I see that you have great visions/big dreams for yourself. However you keep them on the low. You probably work hard in silence. 

You value your peace and are not afraid to leave something for your happiness.

You give me so much earthy energy. You probably honor nature and love spending time out in nature.

You may fear failure. And can sometimes leave things at a place where you have one more step to go for achieving your goal. 

Extra messages

You may have something in your mind that you are afraid of pursuing; whether it is a relationship, a job, a hobby etc. Do not back away and go forward with it. But not in a fiery way. Think thoroughly. Depending on what you want to pursue, you may need to make a plan first. A practical plan. After that, spirit gives you the green light to go forward!

12th house, neptune, taurus

thank you for reading <3

pile 4

You are a playful person. You like to have fun, at the same time pursue your goals. You may have fire placements in your chart because I sense a lot of fiery energy from you.

You may like partying or just having fun around. You like earthly pleasures and are not shameful about it. 

You wish to improve yourself. You may like self help books, philosophy or anything that will broaden your vision. 

You may sometimes try to run away from your emotions. You can even use a way of escapism like social media, partying, tw!substances etc. Balance is key pile 4, if you really struggle with escapism you may want to get help from a therapist.

You can achieve great success and build some sort of wealth in this lifetime. You have what it takes to do it. You are not afraid to go after what you want and stand tall. Your words may sometimes be sharp.

You may like to dance and even be a dancer. This is a confirmation if you were thinking about taking a dance class, go for it!

You may sometimes be too much in your head. Almost like an addiction despite your carefree attitude towards life.

You also have a gentle side to yourself. It is not up front but you still have it. You value the people in your life a lot. You probably show this gentle side of you to your loved ones.

People most likely find your eyes beautiful.

People may envy you a lot. While we all have struggles whether we show it or not; people are prone to think that you have it all. You may also have lots of admirers.

You may meet important people on your journey to success (like soul family, soulmate etc.)

Extra messages

Keep being you and do not be afraid! You have a lot to contribute to this world in your own unique way, pile 4. You may want to start meditating and listening to your emotions a little more. Hear what they are saying. 

1st house, virgo, uranus

thank you for reading <3

[periprose]

Priestess | Sayyadina

Faith is falling in Sietch Tabr. Reverend Mother Ramallo has a solution– marrying Naib Stilgar to one of the Sayyadina, in order to greater connect the people and the spiritual way, and enable Lisan Al Gaib’s journey to freedom, when he appears. This is your story as the chosen priestess.

Genre: arranged marriage to lovers, fluff, smut, (oral, piv, 18+) angst, lots of sci-fi Dune book references

Word count: 9.8k

Fremen Dictionary:

Sayyadina: Lower ranking priestess(es) who have not yet drank the Water of Life

Naib: Leader of a Sietch

Sietch: Cave/place of assembly by the Fremen

Sahar: Reader’s Sietch Name

Biet: Reader’s Fremen Name

Stilgar climbs up the rocky terrain, his fingers adeptly finding well-known grooves in the stone as he lifts himself to the absolute top of the cliff.

He needs some time to think over his conversation with Ramallo, Sietch Tabr’s Reverend Mother, before he heads back to the Sietch. Stilgar is not one to stay away from his people, his community— but for once in his life, it’s too close for comfort.

As Naib, there will be too many people coming to him at once, asking for his advice and input on things he is normally capable of answering. Friends and family will approach him closely, knowing too much about him to tell there’s something on his mind, and expecting him to be transparent as he typically is.

For this moment, though, he needs his head to be clear. He cannot be as jovial as he might’ve been in the past.

What Ramallo offered him is a subject matter he does not take lightly. 

The sun is setting as Stilgar remembers their conversation from the previous hour.

/

“As Sayyadina, as Reverend Mother, my honest recommendation is that the Northern Fremen need to replenish their numbers.” Ramallo speaks in hushed tones of Chakobsa, the native Fremen language.

Stilgar is slightly confused. The concept of child bearing is not one that he has to be concerned with, as he, despite his older age, has not been married yet.

Something he admonishes himself for.

“There are many of us, but we could always expand. I have already suggested to the South that they could send some of their people here, if they would like to be.” Stilgar frowns. “So many Fremen in the south, densely packed, is an easy way to be attacked. We could spread out more.”

“Save your war-speak for later, Stilgar.” Ramallo tuts, and then sighs a long, languid sigh that has Stilgar feeling much younger than he really is. “I don’t mean simply bringing people here.”

He’s never sure what the Reverend Mother wants, but he always gives her his full attention. Something about staying in his faith for so long has kept him here, grounded, seated in front of Ramallo, ready to do what needs to be done. Not just for the Mahdi, as he is often teased about, but so he doesn’t lose himself.   

“Please. Tell me.” He asks, kneeling his head down in a solemn movement, and Ramallo knows he’s ready for this.

“The youth of Sietch Tabr don’t believe in our faith anymore, do they?” Ramallo wraps a gnarled finger around her wrist, feeling a minor form of trepidation she is sure real Bene Gesserit have never felt. “They laugh when we speak of Lisan al Gaib.” 

“They have not read the prophecy.” Stilgar swallows, unsure if he can really speak on this, when he regards himself as a humble follower. “They laugh because they do not believe in the Mahdi to free us.”

Stilgar thinks of his niece, Chani, who suggests that a Fremen could be the Mahdi. He knows this can’t be true, because he believes his people are fed-up— it should have happened by now if one of them was truly possessed with that capability.

“Sietch Tabr is too worldly now. I worry that if we lose our faith, we cannot usher in Lisan al Gaib as he should be, and our promise to freedom.” Ramallo fixes her cold, foggy pupils on Stilgar, the cloudy whites making the typical Fremen-blue appear more teal. He shivers at the idea. 

“I want you, as Naib, our political leader, to take one of the Sayyadina as your wife. One of the lower priestesses.” 

Stilgar nearly protests instantly, feeling embarrassed to even think of desecrating a Sayyadina like this, but the old Reverend Mother knows what he thinks of this. 

“It would be a marriage between our religion and our people, a symbolic union. I believe our spirituality will be renewed.” Ramallo taps his hand. “I’m an old woman now. I cannot make as much as a difference as my younger sisters— and you and I both know it is written that we must keep bearing children.” 

Stilgar swallows. He only vaguely knows of the Bene Gesserit, but he can guess Ramallo was deeply inspired by their way, marrying into families, keeping a physical bloodline going. The only thing that troubles him, is that he’s unsure of what this has to do with having children with a Sayyadina in particular. 

“If you have children, especially with a Sayyadina, they are more likely to be faithful. Perhaps we cannot convert the others,” Ramallo grits her teeth. “But I believe we can start anew.”

/

Stilgar knows he cannot force himself on any of the Sayyadina. It’s bad enough that they cannot say no to the Reverend Mother’s command, especially with that shocking, unnerving Voice she uses, so he would much rather let one of them pick him. Yes, that’s what he’ll do— walk into the temple, and let them approach him.

He just hopes he’s not too old, too ugly, too entwined with his role as Naib. He wonders if that’s why women haven’t necessarily been interested in him— what with his constant vigilance to keep Sietch Tabr safe and with a good allocation of resources, which makes him rather unapproachable, not as dashing as a typical Feydakin.

He knows how Lady Jessica looked at him with reproach when he offered himself to her, to protect her and her son, Paul. Yes, even the name Paul suggests something more to him— he still thinks he could be Lisan al Gaib. But either way, Lady Jessica did not want to be connected to him like that— so Stilgar feels that he must admire how marriage exists in that intrinsic bond between two people, from afar.

On the other hand, he feels the slightest tinge of hope when he remembers that a Sayyadina would surely be impressed with his devotion. In fact, Stilgar feels a slight grin on his face, as he climbs down from his cliff, thinking of a veiled Fremen priestess, eyes of Ibad even bluer than his own, marking her commitment to the faith. Holy, but his, to see like no one else would, and to be devoutly loyal to.

Almost like a personal representation, an extension of their faith together. And suddenly Stilgar feels understanding to what the Reverend Mother said, as he walks through the night, back to his quarters, that there would be power in this.

/

You’re chewing on your bottom lip, knowing that it’s a needless thing to do— a waste of water, now, that a drop of blood has been drawn from where you have accidentally split your lip— and you can’t help yourself.

Reverend Mother Ramallo grasped you and your sisters’ hands during prayer this morning, and told you that Stilgar would choose one of you as his wife.

It’s a bit surprising. As a Sayyadina directly under a Reverend Mother, you simply expected to be on your own, until she died and one of you would have to take her place. Other Sayyadina marry, yes— but you’ve always studied under Ramallo and assumed that you would not have to.

You know the Bene Gesserit— as far away as they are to you— form alliances like this with men, and it’s an honourable thing, typically, to produce a child from a union and continue on a legacy of people. It’s with that line of thinking that you asked Ramallo if this is what you were meant to follow.

“Sahar.” Ramallo used your Sietch name, the one that is only known among your sisters for the most part, as most Sayyadina consider their Sietch name to be their sacred name. “Smarter than I sometimes give you credit for. Yes, like our fellow priestesses, we too can create children for the sacred purpose of replacement.”

You smiled, but Ramallo had a slightly weary look in her eyes.

“I don’t want you girls to forget the sacred duty. Continue the faith. Do not let others forget our long wait for the Lisan al Gaib. Pass this onto your children, if you have them.”

You nodded, and whispered a silent prayer that hopefully soon he would be found, and that in itself would be enough to push people.

/   

So now you wait. You know Stilgar— you’ve conversed with him before, in lunch circles, at the deathstill. He was kind enough— he always bowed when he greeted you, and you liked that, liked that he acknowledged your importance in your role here, however small it may be to you. And he always had a careful, leaning inwards glance, where he would be intently listening to whatever you had to say, even if you simply wished him well and hoped that the Maker would bless him and his passage.

It also significantly helped that he was so handsome to look at, too. You’ve heard women murmur about their surprise on his lack of a wife, and how they’d be grateful to take him, if they got the chance. You don’t disagree– you know you’ve spent many a moment glancing too much at him.

But Stilgar seems intensely busy, and you do not be the one to pull him away from his duties. You have had the privilege of being unaware of fighting, of battles and duels, and now to be potentially married to him, it feels like you’ll simply not fit into his life.

And, on the other hand, as you glumly sit on your bedding, rolling a pebble on the stone floor, you think about how you’ve had little-to-no experience with men.

It’s not that it wasn’t allowed, you’ve always been preoccupied with your faith. With the Reverend Mother.

You know how Fremen men, especially warrior men like Stilgar would be. They have appetites— your fellow Sayyadina sister Nezua tells you about all her crazy endeavours, while you listen somewhat enviously. There’s a reason why Fremen men take so many wives.

Your stomach lurches a little at that. Although multiple wives are common, to continue to reproduce as efficiently as possible, you dislike the notion for some reason— but you feel selfish and wonder if it is because, as a priestess, you’ve had special treatment until now.

Nezua walks into your quarters, and taps your shoulder. 

“Yes?”

“He’s outside.” She takes your hand. “Don’t worry, Sahar. I am sure he will not pick one of us— he will probably pick Ranira. She barely wants to be Sayyadina.”

“But isn’t that against the point?” You squeeze your hands together. “For a union between faith and people—” 

“C’mon, Sahar. Don’t tell me you really believe that.” She rolls her eyes. “Whoever ends up being Stilgar’s wife will probably be in his house most of the time, ‘praying’, but really just dutifully waiting for him.” 

“I suppose…” You don’t want to tell Nezua that she’s wrong. That Stilgar is more devout than she thinks, that he’s not a cheat looking for a free wife to use while pretending to care about the faith. 

Stilgar has always come to the temple to pray, even when it is not necessary for a man of his standing to do so— as he often speaks of needing to continue his worship towards the Maker, the One God, and Ramallo is always pleased to let him in. She wouldn’t do that if he had some sort of ulterior motive, as other less honourable men have in the past.

It’s with a jolt that you realize you already care for him on some level. At the very least, you think highly of him.

Nezua pulls you up off your bedding, and you adjust your veil before going off into the main prayer hall with her.

Upon seeing the arrival of all six Sayyadina sisters— the current number of high priestesses directly under Ramallo— Stilgar pushes himself into a deep, reverent bow, and as he arises again, his gaze seems to linger on you before coming across your sisters.

You feel both excited to potentially be picked, and terrified to leave the temple where you have lived your whole life.

/

Stilgar can’t help but have his eyes drawn towards to you. Not just because you’re beautiful— you are, though, with the eyes of Ibad, deep blue pupils, a wise, judicial expression upon your face— and he wonders why.

Not out of disrespect, but Stilgar often sees the Sayyadina as being sort of withdrawn, within themselves, perhaps solemn in the religious vows they have taken. Even now, your sisters don’t meet his glance as often as you do.

Stilgar thinks you may be defiant. Maybe a troublemaker of sorts. His heart has a sudden thrill at the idea, but his mind knows this isn’t what’s necessary for this arrangement.

“Hello, sisters.” He smiles in a firm, thin line, meant to be placating to those around him. “I believe you know why I’m here. I hope this will not be an uncomfortable process for us all.”

He takes another look at you. No, you’re simply… you’re taking him in. And Stilgar decides that’s overall better than being defiant. Closer to the values of a leader, not even in just a spiritual way as the Reverend Mother had suggested to him. 

You’re gauging his reactions, trying to read if he’s more of a rascal than he lets on— but he meets your previous idea of him, a reverent, kind man trying not to do harm, and your mouth settles into a assured, small smile.

Stilgar feels comforted, pleased even by your expression, and he knows he’s going to pick you.

”Sayyadina—” He points to you so there’s no confusion, and your sisters appear as neutral as they can, while you read micro-expressions of either relief or disappointment. “I would like to speak to you on this matter.”

You shuffle in silence as you leave with him to a different, quieter corridor, and as you turn and fix your veil, Nezua flashes a grin at you.

So your feelings were that obvious, you think.

/

Stilgar is a great deal taller than you. You have to peer upwards to really look at him, and you think he likes that— there’s a slight twinge in his eyes that makes you feel easily drawn to him.

“Why me, Naib?” You ask, and Stilgar stares at you for a moment longer, before tearing his eyes away to stare at the architecture of the temple. 

“You have a knowing look in your eyes, Sayyadina.” He responds in turn to your use of Naib— a term denoting him as Leader of the Sietch. You use it so not to be overly familiar with him, but you understand you both respect each other.

“So you picked the most shrewd of us, is that it?” You wrinkle your nose in a slight laugh, but then actually grin as Stilgar laughs.

“One could call it shrewdness. I simply see that you are not afraid, you look for what you know you must find. Only great leaders make the approach.” He explains this so clearly, you were not even entirely aware that you were doing such a thing. 

“It only makes sense to do so, Naib. I could not just stand there and allow you to do all the decision making.” You admit with tact, so not to drive him away.

He nods. “That is why you will be a great one.”

Stilgar seems comfortable with you already, and yet his expression takes a pained look for a moment. 

“It's for that reason I do not want to force you into this… uh, arrangement.” He admits, and you are taken aback for just a moment, just a slight gasp.

“What makes you think I don’t want to be your wife?” You speak too soon, maybe too boldly but Stilgar likes that. Despite not even being betrothed yet, you are so forward with him, so ready to be claimed by him.

And he's just as willing a participant to be claimed by you, so he smiles, watching you turn a little flustered, but you let your feelings for him stay apparent for a moment.

It's not like there's room for privacy in a marriage, you think.

An arranged marriage, you admonish yourself. He’s here only in the most professional of terms. Don’t complicate this with your idiotic feelings, you still have a job to do.

“I just meant that– it would be an honour to be associated with you, Naib.” You keep your head tilted downwards, trying your best to be the reverent Sayyadina you’re known as.

“Of course.” He swallows, unsure if you’ve suddenly become shy, or that you’ve decided to be more cunning– something he admires anyways. He thinks not many women would actually be attracted to him, what of the mug he calls a face, and so he decides to just be glad that you’re willing to be with him.

“Okay, Sayyadina. If you’ll have me as your husband, then,” He grasps your hands in both of his, and he has the kindest look in his eyes, and you look back up at him, feelings simmering on the inside as you maintain a peaceful facade. “We will have our engagement arranged soon.”

Then, ever so gently, he pushes back a part of your veil, wanting to see your face better.

/

You visit him more often after that. Usually in the hall, where there are other people, and you do this so people don’t think you’re too in love with him already– visiting him secretly would only prove that, suggest some sort of affair of a human connotation.

By being around the others, people feel that things are coming into place– religion and leaders are creating a strong, united front that will lead the Fremen to peace. More believers for the Lisan Al Gaib. And you are glad to already be pushing people along the path that Ramallo set out for you.

Stilgar has a stronger look at you, now. Not just the polite glances of before. With every conversation, he takes you in, drawing more and more conclusions. And with every moment, he learns more about you, and he likes what he learns, too.

He sees that you like your food spicy, as does he. And you especially enjoy tabara– the soft sweet cake made of tabaroot, honey, and spice, rich and sweet in flavour, adorned with fruit. It’s a rarity in Arrakis, since a few of the fruit come from offworld traders– so he gives you his portion and you two argue over this, before Stilgar eventually puts his foot down as Naib.

“You should accept. Extra portions go towards those who need it, not me.” Stilgar says, ever the humble one as you’ve come to know him.

“Except this isn’t an extra portion, is it? Sayyadina aren’t supposed to indulge so much, leaders like you may deserve it as you do such hard work.” You taunt him, knowing that you’re both so similar– you could argue forever with Stilgar because you’re equally as willing to sacrifice things for each other.

Great leaders, indeed.

“Sayyadina, don’t make me remind you how important your creed is.” He tuts, and you find yourself simmering with attraction to him– you are beginning to look forward to these conversations more and more everyday. “Your work is just as important– don’t do a disservice to your life just for me, okay?”

The people around you shift in their spots on the floor, to listen more closely, and you recognize that although you and Stilgar grow closer– the intended effect is taking place. People are supportive either way.

Maybe you don’t have to be distant, overly religious, to win support. Maybe, like what Ramallo said, they need to see how spirituality can touch people, and how you’re just a person as well.

He places the piece of cake in your bowl again. “Accept it as a gift, Sayyadina.”

You smile up at him, squeeze his hand without thinking. “Okay, Naib. Thank you.”

/

Stilgar cannot stop thinking of you, even when he is training Usul to fight in the Fremen way.

He remembers your last meeting, a few weeks after your initial one– and then how you said in two days time, after your faithful prayer that the Shai-Hulud would allow your union to be peaceful, you could begin the engagement ceremony. And Stilgar focused on how serious you were– how holy this approach was, how you seemed to glow from within, with some otherworldly energy, and even now he could tell he was enamoured with you. With that strong gaze, eyebrows tensed and purposeful in their thought.

Usul– Paul, at this moment, with his lack of focus– cannot stop staring at Chani while she practices sparring with her friend.

“Usul. Usul.” Stilgar shakes his shoulder, and Paul finally tears his gaze away. “You’re too distracted, my friend.”

“I’m sorry, Stilgar.” Ever the charming, young lad, Paul smiles placatingly towards Stilgar, and even he is too struck by his charisma to avoid it. “I’m here. I’m ready.”

“Please, tell me what bothers you.” Stilgar knows, already, as Paul stares down at his hands, that the boy has eyes for his overly tenacious niece. “Is it a matter of the heart?��

“Yes.” Paul exhales. “It’s not important right now. How did you know?”

Stilgar smiles reproachfully. “I… I suppose I should tell you honestly, before the others get to know.”

It strikes Paul that the Fremen trust him so readily– even Chani, with her misgivings about the prophecy, seems to be swayed towards him, and he does not know if he enjoys the attention, the privilege this grants him. Again, he is struck with that terrible purpose– that he will use these people for his own benefit.

Stilgar interrupts his line of thought. “Soon, I am to be married to one of the priestesses.”

Paul grins. “Ah, Stilgar, you rogue. You’re distracted, too.”

“Yes.” Stilgar admits, and he thinks of you with your deep blue eyes, your careful-yet-understanding glance, and he longs to see you again. To get to know you better. Yes, Stilgar may not truly know you, but he feels he has been on your side this whole time. Every glance at the temple, every cursory conversation at the deathstill, it has all been building up to something– perhaps not what he had imagined it to be, but he would never consider himself unlucky for this, or that Ramallo could ever be wrong about her plans.

As Naib, though, he still has his duties, and he tuts and tells Paul to get back on it. And Paul, strong young man wanting to prove himself, uses his Bene Gesserit training to imbue a level of focus that no woman could possibly break.

/

The engagement ceremony day is finally here.

You're excited, yet nervous to be known as Stilgar's wife. It feels more real with every approaching moment– it’s not just a silly, girlish fantasy, it’s something that everyone will see and know as a tangible union.

You haven't got any time to see him– Stilgar has been away with other Feydakin, no doubt unleashing hell on Harkonnen troops– and so you wait for his return.

The first of many waiting periods, you know that. You always knew this was going to be more of a political marriage– more in meaning for Sietch Tabr than really having to be around each other.

But you miss him, anyways. You like him, and despite your attempts to focus on praying to the Maker that he will be okay, you search for him on the sandy horizon every minute of this auspicious morning, the sun blearing into your eyes.

“You know he hasn’t come this far without his own talent.” Nezua reminds you, as she watches you peer up, blinking in the sunlight. “He’s not Naib for no reason, Sahar.”

All priestesses– both low and high– and other religious Fremen crowd around the outskirts of Sietch Tabr, hidden under cliffs in order to stay in the shade. Yet you reach outwards to look at the sun, risking your sweat even as you know you’re supposed to reserve it.

Lady Jessica, part of the sacred mother-and-son duo from the outer world, watches you with a gaze you cannot place. You know it is not simple curiosity– there is something new and malicious in her stare that has only heightened after Stilgar had asked to be betrothed to you.

A sudden gust of wind blows sand around you two, and Nezua tightens her veil, firmly jutting her jaw in a way that tells you she must be right, that you worry about nothing. 

Ten minutes later, after praying and hoping, Stilgar returns over the sunrise, victorious in battle, and you feel he looks exhausted– yet his face breaks into a smile when he sees you.

He is greeted by many Fremen, fellow family members, but Stilgar pushes them aside, making his way directly towards you.

And you let yourself be pulled upwards by him, as he grasps your hands.

There’s something sweet and endearing here– almost innocent in how he looks at you, as if he’s been waiting to see you again just as long as you have. But you quickly remind yourself that this moment is not just yours– it would be considered somewhat heartless by other Fremen if Stilgar did not appear to like you, and by extension, the whole marriage’s point would fail.

“Sayyadina–” He holds up the Water Rings, the metallic counters representing the volume of water a Fremen could release into the deathstill. Here, they mean that you will be tied to Stilgar, as you are now betrothed to him. “I ask you to be married to me, by nightfall.”

“So soon?” You ask, wondering why he would want to do it so early.

“It cannot wait much longer. Reverend Mother Ramallo is not well.” He tells you, and your heart sinks, wondering why your dear reverend mother has not told you about this.

You’ve seen the signs– she struggles with fine motor skills and often her cataracts make it difficult to see anything– but you are still surprised.

“Okay.” You swallow, and then smile up at him, and he squeezes your cheek in a fond gesture that makes you feel heat rise there.   

“We will be wed tonight.” He calls out in Chakobsa, and the Fremen around you rally with glee, and you feel that whatever this is, even if Ramallo does not live to watch it play out– it’s working.

/

The unmarried women of the tribe fix your hair with the rings Stilgar presented to you, and you feel ever the part of the blushing bride. You know it’s not wrong to genuinely have feelings in this arrangement– you just hope Stilgar feels the same way.

Chani grins at you. You know her well– you’re around the same age, you’ve grown up somewhat together– and you wonder if she feels odd about her uncle marrying you.

“No, if it means I can call you Auntie, I’m happy.” She jokes, and you shove her as she laughs.

Chani rarely laughs like this as of late. She’s always so hard on herself– she thinks she has to be because of how indoctrinated so many Fremen are to the faith. And despite your life as a Sayyadina, Chani has never let your conflicting beliefs stop her love for you.

You only wish she’d be more careful as a warrior. As a freedom fighter, Chani sometimes lacks restraint– so you’re grateful to see her happy.

“Well, maybe some day you’ll be married, too.” You squeeze her hand. “To a great warrior.”

“I don’t know, Biet.” Chani calls you your Fremen name, not your Sietch one, which will be used tonight at the wedding. “Let us focus on you for now.”

“I just… I don’t know if he feels the way I do.” You suddenly admit, and the fear that you’re still going to be lonely crops up. 

Chani shakes her head, that hard, tough scowl on her face back again. “If there’s one thing I know about my uncle, it’s that he’s not an idiot.” 

She presses her cheek to yours. “Don’t you understand how important you are, Biet? How special you are, not just to me and everyone here, but to him especially. Stilgar has not stopped speaking of you for the last couple of weeks.”

You smile softly at that, thinking of how ardently Stilgar looks at you now, how you’ve gotten to know each other over the last few weeks of basic conversation. More close than ever, and yet just far enough that you keep wondering. Is it admiration, gratitude that you’re willing to serve a greater purpose, or something more? You know it’s selfish, but you want him to like you. To love you. 

“Everybody knows, even Muad’Dib.”

At the mention of Muad’Dib, you can’t ignore the slight tension in your spine. Both you and Stilgar have discussed your belief in his abilities, his potential to be the one– but you know that Chani does not share that.

Still, you hear a slight shift in Chani’s tone as she says his name, and you give her a glance.

“You like him, I think.” You tease, and she tells you to shut up in Chakobsa.

You wonder if Muad’Dib was the one who shared this information to his mother, which would make her dislike of you understandable. You get the sense she’s power-hungry, terrifying– she would’ve been a greater candidate for this marriage, an otherworldly mother that fits the prophecy, representing not just the union of politics and religion, but with the power of the Bene Gesserit– and you find that you resist her, anyways. Resist the idea that everything must be for this one purpose.

You want to keep Stilgar to yourself, and it almost frightens you that you might be going against something that you’ve been taught to believe from a young age.

You’re no Chani.

/

The dark of the night spreads across Arrakis.

Stilgar begins the trek up the dune, where you wait, bathed in the moonlight– you’re wearing a different outfit, a dress with intricate beading marking your place as a bride, and instead of a veil, you are wearing a much thinner, transparent shawl that allows Stilgar to make out your silhouette. Your hair is interwoven with his Water Rings.

Stilgar has always known you are beautiful, but especially now of all times, with your blue eyes reflecting him in the silver moonlight as he meets you at the top of the hill– and it’s not a distraction, because he’s meant to be here with you.

He likes you a lot– there’s a taut feeling in his throat, as he realizes he’s watched countless friends and family members get married, but never thought of himself as one of them– and in the past, Stilgar had always felt there was something wrong with him for not marrying sooner. But now, he’s so thankful he waited, because it’s you. His holy, veiled priestess.

You share his faith, after all– but over the last few weeks he’s seen that you share his judgement, too. He only hopes that his feelings will be returned some day and that he won’t scare you off– Stilgar knows he can sometimes be too much.

Reverend Mother Ramallo approaches you two from the other side of the dune. She speaks in Ancient Chakobsa– old marriage passages from the faith, hymns that are sacred in their meaning– and the unmarried women below, begin their chanting and agreement with the hymns. They dance.

Then, Ramallo asks Stilgar in Chakobsa, if he is willing to take care of you, to entirely claim you in every way as the Fremen faith dictates– to not leave you behind. You know she cares for you so deeply, as she’s watched you grow up from a young girl, and you hear a slight twitch in her voice, giving her away as someone who will miss you.

Stilgar responds without hesitation that yes, he will always be there for you. And you believe him. You don’t hear a hint of irony or lying in his tone.

Maybe this isn’t just a marriage of political nature.

Ramallo yells in Chakobsa, using the Voice: “It is finished!”

/

Celebrations are loud, jovial, necessary after the Fremen endured hardship from the Harkonnen. People are dancing, eating, congratulating you.

You’re happy to receive their blessings, and give them back if they wish to hear it from you. You’re still a Sayyadina, and today of all days, you bring especially good luck to them.

Paul Atreides walks forward after Nezua dips– she’s kissed you on your cheek and solemnly stated she’ll miss you at the temple bedrooms– and you’re intrigued, as you’ve never spoken to him before.

“Muad’dib!” Stilgar is next to you, and he shakes his hands, clapping his shoulder, and Paul hugs him.

“Stilgar, Biet–” Paul’s eyes cross towards you, and you don’t sense the same plotting look his mother has. “Congratulations. It’s so interesting to witness a Fremen marriage. I feel like I’ve learned so much just watching. I did not know Sayyadina could use the Voice, as well. Impressive.”

You think he’s rather compassionate, but there’s no telling if it’s an act. You ignore that– you’re meant to be happy now.

“Thank you.” You gently squeeze his hand. “I don’t use it often– I believe it should necessitate a purpose.”

“As do I.” Paul agrees, and you are blown away by how casually he reveals that he can use it. Another sign, perhaps, that he is who you and Stilgar think he is.

“In coming times, maybe you too will marry in our way.” You make as an offhand comment, so not to overtly reveal your surprise.

Paul is mildly surprised by this, but he doesn’t look displeased with that. “Maybe. I think many women here are quite beautiful, they could probably pick a noble Feydakin than someone like me.”

“In time, Muad’dib, you may be a Feydakin too. You have the strength to be one.” Stilgar corrects him, and you like that your husband is so forthcoming, a true mentor that supports everyone.

“Besides, you’ll need to be one if you want to impress Chani.” You input, and Stilgar looks a little taken aback by this development, while Paul looks more interested.

“Really? You think Chani and I…” Paul swallows down whatever he’s going to say, looking suddenly a bit darker and worried. “I would be lucky if she considered me.”

Paul bids you two goodbye, while Stilgar laughs. “A humble one, isn’t he?”

“Better that than overly boastful.” You hum. “Either way, I hope he is not perpetuating a false image.”

Stilgar agrees. 

As the party dies down, he takes your hand, and together, you walk back to Stilgar’s quarters.

/

He’s rather quiet as he sits on his bedding, cracking his knuckles.

Stilgar is not afraid of you, exactly– he’s afraid of what your relationship should or should not be. He does not know the boundaries in which you two operate, and he’s afraid once he opens that conversation up, of your potential rejection. 

Other men would tell him that as your wife, there should be no confusion– that he should be able to bridge the gap, and you would accept it, no questions asked.

But Stilgar had not come this far by simply guessing at things. He knows as Naib, the general context you two have– and he needs to know if you feel the same way, if you don’t just want this marriage to be symbolic in nature.

“Sayyadina,” He calls you, and you sit next to him on his bedding, staying a short distance away, just for respect.

You laugh at that internally. You’re his wife, and you still call on some level of respect. Maybe because you’re afraid of acting on these feelings you have– a hunger for closeness– and you would rather use the excuse of respect instead of pushing him towards you.

Stilgar says Sayyadina with fondness in his tone, though. A formal, spiritual term has never sounded more husky, more inappropriately close than ever– you let yourself hope.

“I’ll ask you this once, and make your answer clear, so I do not bother you otherwise.” Stilgar pauses, wanting to be sensitive about this subject. He doesn’t know exactly what you’re comfortable with. “I want to know if you want to be more than wife in name, or if your heart is drawn to being within your faith.”

“Who says I can’t be both, Stilgar?” You bite your lip, and Stilgar’s face stiffens. “There’s nothing in our faith that says a priestess can’t have both.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pauses, grappling with what to say.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you.” He says, and you laugh, for real this time, a louder laugh than he’s heard before, and he grins, liking the twinkling sound of it, but then frowns. “I’m being serious. You should not have to lie with me just for everyone else’s benefit. The marriage has brought people to greater spirits, already.”

“What if it’s for my benefit?” You speak in a hushed tone, but Stilgar listens to every word, inching closer to you. “What if I feel more spiritual when I’m next to you? I feel the Maker’s way flow through me whenever we speak, I feel like I can understand and interpret so much more because I know we are supposed to be with each other, not just metaphorically, but in all ways.”

Stilgar is taken aback by your boldness, and so are you to some degree, but you continue. “I’ve been ignoring this the last few weeks, but I think that’s what love is. What is faith without love? I think I love you, because you make me understand what I’ve been missing…” You smile up at him. “You’re my greater context, Stilgar.”

Ah, He thinks. This woman is too sweet to me. She understands.

“Sayyadina…” He sighs, a deep shuddering sigh revealing so much emotion; relief, really. You’ve never seen Stilgar like this, but it gives you a sense of how much he represses. “You feel like the missing piece I’ve been waiting for. You… you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for a woman that understands me.”

“I never thought I could have the chance to love anyone,” He admits with some reservation. “My appearance tends to ward women away.”

“But you’re beautiful.” You whisper, smiling up at him, and Stilgar feels your hands trace around his face, and he closes his eyes, listening to the sweetness of your voice. “You’re only intimidating because of who you are, Stilgar, but I promise, you’re beautiful. I’m not the only woman who thinks that.”

Before he can respond in turn, that you’re more beautiful than him, the stubbornness that you two share– you let that unspoken urge inside you, the one you’ve never acted on before, overtake you. And you pull his face downwards in a searing kiss, one where he can still taste the spice on your lips after what you ingested at your wedding dinner.

He honestly has not touched a woman in years– not out of some purposeful celibacy, but more because he has been so focused on maintaining Sietch Tabr. And whatever memories he has of that time, right now is easily trumping them.

You part your lips as Stilgar does, kissing him with abandon, again and again as your lips move with his, and he squeezes your waist before pulling you onto his lap.

He groans. There’s a hard bulge in his pants that you’re sitting squarely upon, you know what that is– you’re not entirely uncultured about this.

You experimentally roll your hips over his crotch, finding a sudden pleasure in your lower half as you do so, and he stutters, suddenly, pulling your face away from his, breaking the kiss.

“Sayyadina– wait, slow down.” He holds your wrists in his hands firmly, the heat of the moment causing both of you to sweat. The night air seeps through Stilgar’s window– hot and humid.

You’ve never wanted to be closer to him.

“I’m a little inexperienced. I don’t want to hurt you.” He explains, and you scoff.

“So am I.” You tell him. “Actually, I’ve never…”

“Oh.” Stilgar takes on a very judicial look, one that you’re determined to stop before he rejects you for the “greater good” or something like that. “I would’ve never guessed that. You gave me the impression of expertise.”

“Then let me gain it.” You proclaim, and you cut him off before he says what you know he will. “You’re not forcing me into anything. I want to do this, just like I wanted to marry you.”

He scoffs, now, but Stilgar likes the sound of that and he kisses you again, pulling your shawl off, feeling you wrap around his torso with your legs– he feels you moan and shudder when he squeezes your thighs. He loves this, and when he starts removing your dress– you don’t stop him.

He pulls it down and under you, and you’re bare underneath. Stilgar examines your breasts with admiration– they’re the perfect size, they fit you well– and he immediately takes to one of your nipples with his teeth, causing you to cry out.

As he continues these bites over your chest, squeezing your breasts and your behind, suckling on your neck, feeding off of your sweat, you feel yourself slicken, wetness catching on Stilgar’s pants– so much quicker than you’re used to, when you used to touch yourself in your room at the temple. A waste of water, maybe, but it was worth the relief occasionally.

Stilgar notices, and he wordlessly lays you across his bed, spreading your legs open, looking down at your pussy.

You’re not completely sure what he’s doing, and you feel slightly vulnerable like this– entirely on display for him.

“Let me drink from you, Sayyadina. I would be honoured by this blessing– I thirst, and it would not be a waste.” He says in hushed tones, as he kneels in front of you, and you feel yourself slicken more if that’s possible. The sacred overtones of worship are not lost on you, practically becoming a kink for you as he speaks.

You nod, and he grasps your thighs tightly, practically pushing down on them so you’ll stay with open legs for him– he strokes them a few times, and then dives in with his tongue, lapping and licking slowly upwards to your clitoris, then quickly a few times to taste you faster, which causes you to seize as feelings of warmth and white-hot sensitivity overtake you, and with your fluids, and his saliva, you’re quickly reaching the point of finishing. His beard tickles, and you squirm a little, and start writhing and sweating, moans ebbing out of your throat, but that only makes Stilgar pull you in closer, tighter, pushing his tongue closer, almost inside, refusing your escape.

You don’t want that, anyways. And you finish in his mouth with a flourish as Stilgar laps up what you’ve given him– a drink from a Sayyadina.

You think he’s done, but you lean back with another sigh– a near scream, really– as Stilgar begins to lick at your clitoris, suckling on it, until you’re wet and aching again– and then he uses his fingers to spread your pussy open, and begins to fuck you with his tongue. It’s amazing, wet and writhing and and filthy– it feels nothing like your own fingers and entirely more adept at getting you to another orgasm. The speed at which his tongue languishes inside you should be considered unholy, all things considered– but you feel high, you feel like you’re closer to the Maker than ever– and he suckles at you, his lips closing around your entrance as you moan again and orgasm directly into his mouth.

Stilgar groans. He’s in love with your taste– he thinks he might wake you up every morning like this, if you’ll let him. He’s also painfully hard now– his cock strains against his pants, and he quickly starts undressing.  

“Sorry. I needed a second taste.” Stilgar apologizes, standing up, but he’s not sheepish about anything as he continues to rub you, to stroke your pussy to keep you wet. Up, down, up, down, Stilgar could get addicted to this sensation around his fingers– you’re so warm, soft, wet– he needs to be in you.

You’re beginning to feel overstimulated– you’re covered in sweat, and in between your thighs you’re soaked, practically dripping all over Stilgar’s hand as he continues to work you– and you twitch as you sit up, Stilgar’s fingers prodding inside you.

His cock bobs upwards, shiny with pre-cum, and the tip, hard and redder, while the rest is a flattering tan brown. Although this is your first time viewing the male genitalia, you’re drawn to it. You like how he looks partially naked– vulnerable like you, but warmer, soft and hard in different places– and you reach to take his shirt off, letting his full self be unsheathed.

And you like this– you feel an animalistic draw to his body, his chest hair, the broad muscles under them, and he moans loudly when your finger prods at the tip of his cock. Stilgar lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and spreads your ass, his cock nudging inside your pussy slowly, groaning as it does, gritting his teeth as every centimetre feels like another added pleasure of wetness, the bounds of which he does not know, but he is excited to be familiar with and do this again and again. 

You sink around him easily– you moan against his neck as you do– and Stilgar bottoms out, feeling you grip and tighten around him.  

After what feels like an eternity– both of you drunk on just being intertwined in such a way– he lifts you up again, thrusting outwards, and then back in, pushing you down on his cock, slamming into you. Stilgar’s warrior strength comes into play here– he fucks you relentlessly, and grips you so tightly you think you might be melting onto him. He begins to pound into you, your ass and thighs jiggling with the force of it all, and a severely perverted squelching and slapping sound builds up over time, over and over, his thighs and balls slapping against your thighs and ass, the sound of which you are sure is extremely loud.

You don’t care. You moan loudly, almost yelling as Stilgar’s cock twitches and catches inside you in a place so deep, you’ve never touched it yourself. 

You shake and twitch, barely holding onto him as you do, feeling an immense pressure build inside you, almost painfully, but with pleasure. Stilgar claims your mouth as he thrusts, kissing you, slipping his tongue inside as he drinks from you there– and he loves feeling you moan against his mouth as he does so.

He presses you against him tightly, rutting upwards, and then together he tips the both of you onto his bed again, him on top of you, this time using his fingers to play with your clitoris as you clench around his thrusting. You cum again, this time your fluids adding to Stilgar’s pleasure, and you moan as Stilgar’s hands tighten around your waist. The slap of his skin against yours is laden with sweat and your cum, but Stilgar is insatiable, and he thrusts harder.

You feel him inhale, moan, bite at your neck, and you feel his cock twitch again as he cums inside you, pulling out in a hazy stream, and you writhe against him, feeling the heat of the moment conjoining with the cooler air of the night.

He sighs, satisfied with what has happened, lying down next to you. “May Shai-Hulud allow us to do this again.”

/

Stilgar has to leave again, the next morning, as more Fremen are involved in fighting Harkonnen harvesters, and he wants to oversee this.

“I’m sorry, Sayyadina…” He swallows. He doesn’t want to leave you behind– if he could take you along on his back, he would. 

“Sahar.” You tell him.

“What was that?” He asks, and you wrap your arms around him and his stillsuit, dressed in your traditional Sayyadina dressings again.

“Sahar is my Sietch name. My sacred name, only for my sisters to know.” You explain, although you’re sure Stilgar knows this. He only knows your Fremen name, after all. “Since we’re married– I thought you should know my true name.”

“Sahar is a wonderful name… meaning morning.” Stilgar looks out the window with a slight smile. “But you outdo any of Arrakis’ sunrises, my dear.”

You laugh at that, as Stilgar knew you would. 

“You will still be Sayyadina to me, no matter what name you have.” He says, and there’s a warm feeling in your heart when you hear this, that he has a special name for you. You take his hands, and press your palm to his forehead.

“Oh Shai-Hulud… keep Stilgar safe from unwarranted danger today.” You whisper in Chakobsa, closing your eyes, and Stilgar closes his eyes too. “Do not risk his life.”

Your harsh, suddenly grating tone from using the Voice has Stilgar opening his eyes again. He has never heard you use it before.

“Thank you.” He pulls you up for a soft, parting kiss– and then after memories of last night echo inside his mind– he gives you a firmer, lingering kiss, laden with love for you.

/

Stilgar finds that despite his obvious devotion in his commitment to you– the women are more interested in him than ever.

And if he was a lesser man, perhaps he would act on this. But Stilgar has not forgotten the plan, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten you, not so soon. He knows you two are two sides of the same coin– meant to be.

This was not meant to be an outcome. He sees Feydakin women smiling at him, maybe a little too much– or maybe he has not noticed until now.

You said he was beautiful, and he had thought maybe that was just according to you. But seeing how Lady Jessica greets him, not impolitely but just with more… vulnerability, especially after her duke was killed, he thinks maybe you’re right. Maybe he has something.

Jessica stares at the deathstill, trembling over what Stilgar has told her. She must drink the Water of Life, she must take the place of a Reverend Mother– and she does not want this. She wants nothing more than to be comforted at this moment, because of what a tribulation this new order shall be on her.

Or at least, that’s the image she’s conveying, she hopes, and she believes she has Stilgar wrapped around her finger, her coying, Bene Gesserit way meant to coax people closer to her, and by extension, her wishes.

And Jessica can tell she’s done it right when Stilgar leans over, wipes away her tear, and licks it. Perhaps she can secure more support through playing the part of a sad widow.

/

It’s Nezua who saw what happened.

She interrupts your prayer, your first prayer after returning to the temple, sanctimonious as it is.

“Sahar, please don’t be upset. Just hear me out.” She pulls you into the main hall, where your sisters and Ramallo are reading ancient texts.

“What is it? What’s happened?” You look around wildly. 

Nezua’s deep blue eyes blink, as she wonders what to tell you, how to say it gracefully.

“I saw him. Naib. Standing close to that woman, to Lady Jessica– she cried about becoming a Reverend Mother– he stroked her face, licking a tear away.” Nezua admits, and you instantly blink back sudden tears.

“But he–”

“Men can be rascals, Sahar.” Nezua reprimands you, and you swallow, knowing you don’t know as much as her.

You do know about Jessica, though.

“She has been eyeing him for a while… I’ve watched it happen. She’s got her Bene Gesserit tactics, we know that. She wants to be a Mother, no matter what farce she applies in this moment to gain approval.” You shake your head. “He wouldn’t do that for no reason– she’s very convincing. And Stilgar supports everyone, why would he doubt her?”

Nezua calms down a bit.

“But if he wanted to marry her?” Ramallo suddenly chimes in, and you and your sisters watch as she speaks, suddenly convinced of something. “Would it not be the ultimate culmination of what we seek? The mother of the Lisan Al Gaib, integrated into our society… nothing could compare to how many Fremen this would convert. How many people would choose our way.”

“Great Mother, you picked me for that purpose.” You speak up, almost immediately, without fear. You don’t care if you’re speaking out of turn– you do not want to share Stilgar, lose him to some other woman– and here it seems everyone else is okay with it.

“Yes, and you’ve done well, but you of all people should want us to do better.” She remarks, not without a bit of bite in her tone. You hate that it has to be this way, that you stand in the way of something you used to wholeheartedly believe.

Just this once, you want to be selfish. You have faith that Paul will be Lisan Al Gaib, anyways, so why can’t it just be you and Stilgar?

“Once Jessica drinks the Water of Life, she will be a powerful Reverend Mother– all of Arrakis may be swayed by her.” Ramallo peers at your expression. “Don’t tell me you feel something as foolish as love, Sahar.”

“And if I do?” You state, blatantly.

“Then you must be loving enough to see that this would improve Stilgar’s life by far. Men may take multiple wives, you know that.” Ramallo tuts. “Perhaps you’re not as clever as I once thought.”

“He won’t do it. He knows that his love helps me, and as long as that’s in his priorities…” Your voice dies down, feeling like everything is falling apart as you speak.

“Yes, and how long will he care for a lower priestess when he can have a Reverend Mother? Especially one as faithful as him.” Ramallo shakes her head at your ignorance.

“Shut up! You’ve never felt love, you unspeakable witch–” You scream in Chakobsa, using the Voice, the full power of which seems to shake the temple.

Ramallo slaps you, hard enough that you fall back against the floor. Your skin hums with the stinging feel of a new bruise, sure to make it’s mark on your cheek– and she hisses at you.

“Insolent child. It was I that brought you here. It was I that even gave you the chance to be with Naib Stilgar. He would have never looked at you otherwise.” She mutters, and you feel your eyes glisten with tears.

She and your sisters leave, and you hold your breath, trying not to cry. Nezua strokes your arm.

“Perhaps, if he marries Jessica, it will only be a marriage in name.” She tries, but you shake your head. “You would be the one he really loves, Sahar.”

“Or I would be like a concubine– there to produce children, nothing more.” You think of how quickly you leapt into Stilgar’s waiting arms yesterday, and wonder if you were wrong. If his only intent was to have someone he could fuck on a ready basis.

You shake your head. “I need to speak to him.”

/

You sit on the ground of his quarters, stating a small prayer to stay calm, and when Stilgar walks in, he sounds pleased to see you.

“Sayyadina, I did not expect you back so soon.” He touches your hand, but based on how you draw yourself back, he knows something is wrong. “What is it?”

“You want Jessica. Right? To be your wife?” You say, and he shakes his head.

“We discussed it once–” and your stomach drops at that. “But it would have only been a marriage of convenience to protect her, long ago. Nothing more.”

“Then what happened today, in the deathstill?” You ask, and Stilgar furrows his brows.

“I only relayed Ramallo’s message to her. And she was a bit sad, so I comforted her, that’s all. She almost wasted some water by crying, so I drank it.” Stilgar sits down on the ground next to you. “I promise you, I do not want her.”

“Even if she’s a reverend mother? Closer to your faith? Easier to perpetuate our–” Here you stutter. “The mission?”

“Whoa, whoa.” He softens visibly. “Sayyadina, if you cannot see now that I love you, tell me how to right that wrong.”

“Tell me why you believe you’ll stick with me–” You tear up again and wipe it away. “Tell me you won’t leave me.” 

“I have no interest in Jessica– she is a conniving one, but whatever she thinks may happen, it will not.” He shrugs. “I don’t believe she loves me or wants me in that way, either– she still mourns her duke.”

Of course, you think. She might have only been staring at me that one time because she remembered when she used to be in love. Maybe she was even jealous… Jessica was a concubine.

You suddenly feel much more at peace. You don’t think you would’ve ever left Stilgar even if he had married Jessica– but you’re suddenly more understanding of her pain, to be the one not known in any collected record despite being loved.

“I only did anything I could to make her feel more comfortable with her new role.” Stilgar grins. “And if she succeeds– the faith will have more people interested in it, and there will be less pressure on us.”

“That’s true.” You finally tear your gaze from the floor to look at him, and he smiles at you before frowning at the bruise on your cheek.

“What’s this?” Stilgar gently touches you, and he gets angry hearing you hiss.

“Nothing, just a silly altercation.” You explain, but he’s not satisfied with that.

“With who?”

“Ah… Ramallo slapped me after I said she would never understand love.” Suddenly you’re ashamed, and you feel as if Stilgar would be disappointed in you. “She said the best thing would be if you married Jessica– and I guess I… I didn’t want to lose you, so I used the Voice on her.” “You did?” Stilgar raises his eyebrows, in surprise that you’d do such a thing, make a rash judgement like that against your elder. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

You lean into his touch, feeling better that he’s not angry at you.

“But I am sorry I wasn’t there to see you take ownership of me.” He laughs quietly. “You really love me that much? Then I’m only yours.”

You smile so hard at that– massive relief flowing through your nerves– and Stilgar kisses your bruise, before kissing your lips and making you feel whole again.

[nonotnolan]

Group Project

"I don't care if most people skip this step," Aiden said, taking a pre-swap photo with Nathan. "I still don't completely trust Swapper technology, just... I don't have many other options. Professor Carmichael has been riding our asses all semester, and this damn group project is worth 50% of my grade. I, uhh... I appreciate you doing this for me."

"You're the one paying me," Nathan said, grinning into the mirror with two thumbs up. "As long as you follow the basic rules, I don't really care what sort of extra safeguards you want to throw in. And don't worry, I think it's cute. Commencing swap... now."

Aiden barely had time to panic before he found himself staring up into his former face. The biggest shock was feeling Nathan's coiffed hair brushing against his forehead. The nerd came well recommended by Frat Row-- at this point, he probably spent more time outside of his body than inside of it. Certainly it hadn't been Nathan spending time at the gym to earn these arms. He had graduated college last year, but instead of getting a full time job, he hired out his services to anyone who needed to pass tests or make presentations. At $500 per swap, the legality was the only barrier to making it into a career. "So, you remember the rules, right?" said Aiden's body.

Hearing his voice like that was incredibly odd. "Yeah, we've got to stay swapped for 48 hours or else the Campus safety test will know we used our Swappers. You aren't liable if you get caught, I already paid you up front, no refunds. We had to jailbreak our Swappers to override the 12 hour standard limit, so I'll get arrested if I try to contact customer service. Anything else I'm missing?"

"No hard drugs, but any amount of sex and alcohol is fair game," Nathan said, as he reached into Aiden's waistband to fondle his new package. "Nice dick, my guy," he said, giving him another thumbs up. "That's gotta be, what... at least seven inches?"

Aiden blushed, deeply embarrassed to see his body acting so corny. "A bit under seven and a half, yeah," he said. "Aa-anyway, I'll be at the house if you need me."

"Have fun," Nathan said, giving him an exaggerated wink and slapping him on the shoulders. "I've swapped with several of your brothers. I know you're gonna have a good time."

Preston was outside, taking advantage of one of the last warm afternoons before fall turned into winter. "Damn, bro, you hired Nathan? Looks like someone was worried about failing their classes. So, who are you?"

"It's Aiden," I said, feeling very self conscious about my newer, frailer body as I found myself staring at Preston's hairy chest.

He just laughed. "Wait, Aiden? I didn't even know you had a Swapper! Damn, dude, you must be desperate to pass."

"I... yeah," I said, avoiding eye contact. Was Nathan a gay man? That was fine if he was, just... did that sort of thing stick to the body? He'd never really noticed the cleft of Preston's chin before, but he was-- Nathan's body was-- incredibly horny.

"A word of advice, Newbie," he said, sitting down his book. "Most of the Swapper nerds, or at least the ones worth hiring? They're gay men. Don't try to fight it. Just enjoy the ride. You'll be back to your no-homo self in 48 hours." He flexed his chest, letting his pecs bounce. "Or maybe you'll be a bit more worldly," he said, laughing as Aiden tried not to sneak a glance. "Getting a compliment from a gay dude feels real good."

Aiden practically sprinted toward the main doors, eager to escape the awkward situation. "Yeah I'll keep that in mind thanks bye," he muttered, cursing Nathan's gym shorts and their inability to hide an erection.

"Well, damn bro, look who it is! Someone hired Nathan!"

Sitting over in the lobby were two other guys who were using their Swappers for the weekend. The guy in black was probably Carter-- the dude had a lot of Puma gear, and it was possible he'd changed shirts at some point. Besides, it was hard to imagine anyone else scowling that hard. The blonde guy, however... that could be anyone.

"Uhh, hey... guys..." Aiden said, quickly learning that Nathan had a foot fetish. "You, uhhh... you also have a group project tomorrow or something?"

The blonde guy just laughed, closing his laptop as he stood up. "Oh, I've got a group project in mind, alright. I was just telling Carter here, even though both of us look like twinks, neither one of us are really bottoms. But with Nathan's body here, well... I think that solves our problem. Don't you?"

He nodded, following wordlessly after the two men as they entered the nearby library room for more privacy. Just enjoy the ride, Preston had said. Aiden suspected he was going to be doing a lot of riding tonight.

[artist-issues]

About Greta Gerwig, Little Women, and Narnia

Greta Gerwig should not be in the Narnia realm at all. As anything.

The Narnia stories are inseparable from Christianity. Greta Gerwig is a Unitarian Universalist. This means she, in her own personal life, doesn’t believe in the saving work of Jesus Christ, which is a core belief of Christianity, and a core theme in Narnia. Everything in the Narnia books hinges on this, from the character motivations to the structure of the fantasy world to the way the magic in Narnia works.

Additionally, the women in Narnia do not adhere to post-modern or even antique feministic values. They are celebrated for their love and tender-heartedness and faith, all of which require self-sacrifice. Aravis of The Horse and His Boy starts out a proud warrior escaping an arranged marriage and ends up a humbled lady of Archenland court marrying the Prince. Susan Pevensie is at her best when she’s tender-hearted and at her worst when she doubts and becomes more concerned about her own identity than others. The school that Eustace and Jill go to in The Silver Chair is derided for it’s feministic views. By contrast, modern feminism is opposed to self-sacrifice, and that is the kind of thing Greta Gerwig demonstrates belief in throughout all of her works.

Am I saying that no person who isn’t a Christian or some type of conservative when it comes to feminism can ever work on Narnia? Absolutely not. I’m not saying that. Lots of people on the Walden Media Narnia movie (the first one), which was great, were not Christians and did not believe in the saving work of Christ. But they stayed faithful to the source material, even if they didn’t believe in the source material themselves. So the story retained it’s autonomy and power.

Greta Gerwig can’t do that. She has already demonstrated that she does not know how to make a story that hangs on to it’s integral source material if she, herself, doesn’t agree with that source material. She can’t be objective, and therefore, she can’t be faithful to what Narnia is.

How do I know that? Little Women.

I don’t care if you liked the Little Women movie by Greta Gerwig. I don’t care if the acting was “amazing” and I don’t care if Timothee Chalamet and Florence Pugh are great in it. I said exactly what I said. Greta Gerwig made a great movie—but she made a terrible adaptation of Little Women.

It was not Little Women. She made changes to Little Women. What changes, you ask? Changes to the specific pieces of the source material that did not reflect Greta Gerwig’s personal views.

That’s the cardinal sin for directors of adaptive stories or remakes—to make changes to the core themes of a classic tale, because you don’t agree with those core themes. That’s called mutilation, not “updates.”

Here’s how she did it in two major ways in Little Women:

She cut out Jo’s humble response to Friedrich’s gentle rebuke of sensation stories, and replaced it with a feministic self-pitying outburst from Joe and s borderline apathetic, cool piece of feminist advice from Friedrich. That takes all the continuity out of it and warps the characters. That scene is so pivotal in the book. It’s Jo, respecting a man who is much older and excellent in character than any other she’s ever known, and feeling immediately humbled by him calling her out. She’d never have responded that way if Laurie called her out. They would have argued. But this scene was supposed to show what Jo needed from a future romantic partner. She needed someone she respected, someone who could be wise and gentle—two things Laurie is not. She needed someone who would help her take her eyes off of worldly success and herself, and onto eternal benefits to mankind, specifically, the effect her stories might have on children. His gentle, respectful, wise love (and the love of characters like Beth) turns Jo from a self-absorbed writer into a selfless mother, like her own Marmee.

But Greta Gerwig never wanted Jo to be a selfless mother. She wanted, and I quote, “Jo’s love to be her work, and her romance with Friedrich secondary.” You know why?

Because that’s what Greta Gerwig believes in. Greta Gerwig’s life is her work. Watch any of her movies, you’ll see the smudge marks of that wholehearted belief all over them. She can’t even be objective when the whole point of a character is to make work secondary, as was certainly the case with the character of Jo March. No. She has to twist up one of the best American heroines ever into an automaton of herself.

The second way she mutilated source material is with Amy and Laurie. In the books, Amy and Laurie grow to love each other out of the character deficiencies that they make up for in one another. At the start of their courtship, Amy is ambitious and Laurie is lazy. Amy wants to marry for advantage, and Laurie wants to make much of his spurned love for Jo by giving up on life. And that’s it.

It’s Amy who first wakes up to feeling something romantic toward Laurie, not Laurie, and Laurie is not the first to make a move on her. Laurie does not know he is in love with Amy until well after she knows she loves him. Then, he does not make the first outward advance on Amy. They both come to the same conclusion together; when they do, she does not resist. In Greta Gerwig’s version, he’s back to falling in love with a girl who’s resisting, because that’s where Timothee Chalamet’s emotional acting shines or whatever.

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that she adds a feminism speech from Amy, as a reason for her resistance, and she subtracts the scene where Laurie actually proposes. The scene where Laurie proposes, in the book, is so beautiful.

The two characters are in love, they know they’re in love, and neither of them is insecure about it. Amy has learned that she needs a life-partner who knows her and will protect her, like her old home-values did, and not some rich aristocrat or prince. Laurie has learned that he needs a life-partner who can stir him toward change, not through big explosive arguments and hope of conquered affection like Jo, but with gentle love and sheer inspiration, found in Amy.

So, in the most beautiful analogy for courtship that ends in marriage ever, he proposes to her while they’re rowing on a lake. She’s sitting next to him in the middle of the boat, she’s got one oar, he’s got the other, and she says, “How well we pull together, don’t we?” And he says, “so well that I wish we might always be in the same boat. Will you, Amy?” And she says “yes.”

That’s it. No argument. No big, passionate, sentimental explosion like he had with Jo. No wrenched and broken heart-strings. He didn’t have to convince her. She didn’t have to resist. Because entirely without force, and entirely without insecurity, they protected each other’s hearts and came to a conclusion that was based on something so much deeper and more eternal than fleeting passion.

Greta Gerwig cut that out and listened to Meryl Streep and put in another stormy lover’s-quarrel speech from Amy about why she couldn’t be with Laurie because she was in Jo’s shadow, and feminism and marrying for advantage, blah blah blah. It’s terrible. It’s mutilation. It ruins everything the original Little Women had.

it doesn’t matter if she got some of the characters right. It doesn’t matter if she got a lot of the quotes right. It doesn’t matter if all of Act 1 of the movie is mostly-book-accurate. If you change load-bearing themes or character motivations, you show that you can’t be objective and faithful to the source material.

It is fine if Greta Gerwig wants to make a movie about a woman who loves her work more than anything else. It is fine if she wants to make a movie about how women are under-appreciated for their minds and souls, and have characters that go on a journey to prove it. But it is not fine to use someone else’s story to say it. Make your own story, Greta Gerwig.

Oh, you already did? See: Lady Bird? See: Frances Ha? Then come up with something new. Don’t shoehorn your same beliefs into every franchise that is offered to you, like vomiting, then eating the vomit and regurgitating it over and over in new colors. Figure out how to tell someone else’s story in a faithful way, objectively, or else keep your stained hands off until you can clean them up. Especially, keep them off Narnia.

Greta Gerwig makes movies for Greta Gerwig, by Greta Gerwig. She can’t be objective, and for that, she can’t do Narnia. She can’t do it justice, she can’t do it faithfully, because she makes movies for herself, by herself.

[thesensteawitch]

How Does Your Spirit Guides See You?🤍👁️‍🗨️

Pick A Pile

(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello Senstea Souls!

In this reading, you'll learn how your spirit guides see you and what message they have for you. Feel free to pick more than one pile if your intuition says so. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Feel free to message me in case of any tarot reading related questions :⁠-⁠)

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Pile 1

The color your spirit guides associate you with: Yellow

My beautiful pile 1, there's a very strong message coming from your spirit guides which I would like to spill first. They want you to know that they see you as someone rare. You are one of a kind. To them, you're one of the most attractive beings on Earth. They love you for your grounded spirit. They love your brain. You may look intimidating to others but from within you're such a child. I sense strong Sagittarius and Libra placements. Your spirit guides are very protective of you. They see you as someone who will never let the scales go imbalanced. They see you as someone artistic with the capability to fill the souls of the world with art, metaphors, and colors. You're so strong to them that no matter what happens they know that you can turn your hurt into an artistic masterpiece. I am getting a strong victorious vibe from the pile. They adore how no one can ever take away the kindness that you possess. No amount of pain can make you empty of love. Wow, beautiful! One day you'll hold a prestigious position in life all on your own. That's where you are headed and that's where your spirit guides are helping you get to. Who says we come empty-handed? You are walking this Earth with a bag full of something to give to the world. Surprisingly, it's never empty. It never fails to give. They see you as someone who learns from life no matter what. You consider yourself to be the eternal student of life. Your pieces of advice are precious. Your spirit guides see you becoming a great teacher or inspiration for others. This is unusual but they love your colored hair. And if you don't have your hair colored then take it as a sign to get them colored. It would suit you. Some shade of blue or pink. Your spirit guides want to tell you that nothing is set in stone for you so you can always change your path and you'll only learn something new that will eventually help you in serving your greater purpose. I hear, “And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear. Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close?” Wow! What a beautiful message. Some spirit guides may be lovers from your past lives or loved ones who have passed away. They love you very much!

Pile 2

The color your spirit guides associate you with: Blue/Green

Hello my beautiful pile 2. The straightaway message from your spirit guides is that they know that you know what you are doing. Your spirit guides see you as a very aware and alert being. They love that you know what you wish for and what is the intention behind the wish. They see how hardworking you are and you don't take your achievements for granted. You recognize them and give yourself credit for your own hard work. They sometimes see you getting tempted by worldly matters but at the same time with your strength, you pull yourself back from the hell hole and can balance things out. They see that you are emotionally attached to your materialistic achievements. They see you as someone who has no shortage of ideas. Great and achievable ideas keep coming to you. Because of your strong mind, you can manifest the desired outcomes. Your spirit guides know that you don't know when to stop. You'll probably keep working till the end of your life and will keep achieving things. In their eyes, you are an overachiever. Your spirit guides sometimes test you to see if you'll fall into the temptations of materialistic pursuits. They want you to learn detachment from the results. Because in life you'll get disappointed. And they don't want you to struggle when you receive a rejection or a failure. They want you to cherish the work you put in. Because they adore the quality in you to rebuild things and take care of the minute details in every project. They love how you make sure nothing misses your sight. They see that there is an air of mystery around you. You don't show every side of yours to everyone. If someone knows one then the other knows another. You've come a long way from feeling small to feeling accomplished. Your spirit guides want you to know that you are not alone they are always with you. They want you to be honest and not hide your true self from the world. Don't block your emotions thinking that they don't exist. Don't let work distract you to the extent that you forget why you even started in the first place. Don't let your emotions be the price you pay to get your thirst quenched. They know you can achieve anything you put your mind to but your spirit guides are only asking you to not ignore your social life. Take it as a sign and call an old friend.

Pile 3

The color your spirit guides associate you with: Gray/Red/Orange

Hello, my dear pile 3. Your spirit guides feel so sorry for you. They have been sending messages to you. They see that you have choices but you always choose the road that is going to bring suffering you. You burden your soul with the decision you have been consistently making. They see your fear. They see you getting overwhelmed and losing hope. You say that you are committed to something but over and over again you have been making a terrible choice. A choice that seems easier but is heavier on your mind, body, and soul. It's pure torture. You are choosing to take the responsibility of the world on your shoulders. You are performing takes which are impossible for a human being to carry for their whole life. You are trying to achieve everything at once. They see your wishes and they too want them to come true. But they want you to take one thing at a time. You are ignoring the fact that the tasks you think can be managed can't be. They want you to know that you can do ANYTHING in your life but not EVERYTHING. Especially not all at once. There's no doubt that you work so hard but they want you to put that hard work only on one goal or a maximum of two at a time. Not more than that. They are going crazy trying to tell you this. Now you have brought havoc in your own life. Through chaos, you will learn. They see you as someone very stubborn. All these qualities are of an achiever. The only problem is that you are not focused on one task or else you would have achieved a goal by now or at least would have seen the desired outcome. They see that you are indecisive and are afraid to take a decision. You need an adventure or a break to find your true purpose. Currently, your spirit guides see you as someone with so much potential and they don't want it to be wasted. I hear, “I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror. It's me Hi, I am the problem it's me.” They know you can do it. Your spirit guides want you to know that they stand with you during this test of time. They know you can make it through it.

[sugarcoatedcherry]

Void tip

this will probably be my last void related post. I might not be active here anymore. Anyway here is one really helpful tip that helped me understand and attain void

Detach from the reality - Yes that's true. You are not you, you are just the doer. You are so engrossed in worldly activities that you think this is the real you, but the truth is, your real self is beyond your waking, dreaming and sleeping state.

During your daily activities, observe. It is not you who is doing them. It is not you who is reading this paragraph. You are just the doer.

this article talks about it in detail. Practicing this awareness every day will make you apply the same thing during your void meditation and you will be detached from your body- and enter the void in no time.

This also applies to manifestation in general. You stop identifying with your old facts and circumstances and embody your desired state in order to manifest something. This means letting go of your old self is what brings your manifestation to you. Although not exactly the same. Manifesting through the Void is also a method of letting go of your old self and embodying a new one from a BLANK STATE.

Goodluck!

Note: don't take the advice if it doesn't resonate, you make your own rules. This is just one of the tips that gave me a confidence boost.

[yermes]

PAC: why you should invest in yourself 🍷

I don’t know how some of these fundies get off. The fact that they can be stay at home wives in a “safe” way is due to feminism. We should all be investing in our skill sets, knowledge, personal freedoms, and self happiness. Because at the end of the day when it all goes to shit no one can take away your self love, your wisdom, your knowledge, your beauty inside and out. The crime it is to assume someones worth by an arbitrary title or connection. The fact that you live in the tender nature of the divine is worthy enough

Heres a reminder

Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

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Pick a meme

1 2 3

The cards

Chariot 🦤

Mars associated with Mercury, Mars with Sun, Cancer, Binah to Geburah, water

You are a bitch with some real big and really glorified goals (not always a bad thing) to achieve these goals you must stay connected to the root of these goals and not to let your ego transcend the actual and original purpose. Keep your head and yourself stable in the pursuit of excellence.

Knight of disks ⭐️

21° Leo to 20° Virgo, Earth of Assiah, Chokmah

You are a strong enduring mother fucker. TAKE CARE OF YOUR VESSLE! Eat food that makes you happy, do small material things for yourself. Get a treat, get a tattoo get many! You have a lot of worldly and material goals. You need to take care of yourself and invest in yourself so you are able to invest in greater pursuits

The Empress 🪼

Venus in Taurus, Chokmah and Binah, Earth

You love. LIKE A LOT! It’s important to acknowledge that amazing and multidimensional skill and you can use that skill to leverage other skills. But while you do give a mom vibe. You are no ones mommy. Don’t give so much you neglect yourself and your pursuit. You Have an abundance of creative energy, please foster and take care of it.

Extras:

Story/vent:

My new hoodie came in! New ear drip come tmrw

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hey! I was just wondering if you have any ideas of how I can display the fact that a character has aged (not necessarily from adult to elder but just in general) without describing appearance. I’ve tried searching it up but they never really want into detail or they simply advised on changing the character slightly as in giving them old fashioned hobbies. I’m sorry if this has already been answered or does not simply have a direct way and must be decided by the author. Again I am very sorry if this has already been asked I really don’t mind if you either direct me to the answer or copy and paste it if so :)

Showing a Character Has Aged

When it comes to illustrating that someone has aged, you basically have four choices: describe physical characteristics that illustrate age, describe physical activities that illustrate age, indicate the passage of time, flat-out state that the character has aged.

The problem is that aging isn't a wildly specific thing. People don't take on certain physical characteristics, appearance, or activities at exactly the same age. While there are certainly some activities and behaviors that are broadly specific to age categories, age is not accurately defined by behavior, thought process, personality, etc.

If I say, "The last time I'd seen my nephew he was barely crawling, and now he was not just walking, but climbing on everything..." that's a pretty good indicator that this child has aged. But how much? Because babies don't all learn to crawl at the exact same age, or learn to walk at the exact same age for that matter. Some babies skip crawling and go straight to walking. Other babies seem like they'll never go from crawling to walking and suddenly do. This child could be two weeks older than last time or two years older. It isn't clear at all.

Complicating things is the fact that physical appearance is also not a good indicator of age. I mean... as I've pointed out in the past, Paul. Rudd:

Carrol O'Connor (on the left) is the same age in that photo as Paul Rudd is in the photo on the right (both are early 50s here). And while things like hairstyle and fashion do have an impact on how we view someone's age, some people just get wrinkles/gray hair/gain weight/lose muscle tone sooner or later than others.

And, the advice to "give them old-fashioned hobbies" is terrible. "Old-fashioned hobbies"? What, like candle-making and churning butter? What does that even mean? Maybe these people view hobbies like knitting, stamp collecting, and wood-working as "old-fashioned," but I guarantee those are hobbies that are broadly enjoyed by young people to this day.

If I write, "She sat on the couch lovingly knitting a sweater," that tells me nothing about her actual age because:

And, again, the woman on the left could be sixteen or thirty-five, and the woman on the right could be sixty-two or eighty-six.

So, outside of flat out stating that a character has aged, your best bet is to use a combination of these methods to get the point across...

"It had been over ten years since I last saw Mr. Smith. At the time, he'd recently returned from hiking in the Alps. Now he was hunched over a walker, his formerly salt-and-pepper hair now stark white. The deep grooves that had once made his face look handsome and worldly now made him look wizened and tired."

Between stating the amount of time that has passed (over ten years), physical activities (hunched over a walker vs hiking in the alps), and physical appearance (white hair and tired wrinkles vs salt-and-pepper hair and handsome lines), it is very clear that Mr. Smith has aged quite a bit in the decade since the POV character last saw them.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[maliciousblog]

Princess ( Yeosang )

Your fingers gently slid across the pages of the book you were reading as your head rested on the truck of a tree.

The gentle breeze of the forest ruffles your hair causing the lavender scent in your hair to gently waft around your surroundings.

You enjoyed these little moments of peace away from the watchful eye of the palace gaurd away from the noise of the city.

Being a princess was a privilege few could ever experience.

You had anything and even a girl could ever desire except freedom.

So you particularly tried to draw them out as much as you could.

Just as you were about to get fully ingulfied in the tales of dragons and knights in shining armour you heard a soft groan emerge from the woods.

It could just be an animal or the wind.

Paying no heade to it you turned back to the book.

But the soft wailing persisted only getting more dreadful as time passed.

You were at a distance from the palace so it wasn't as if you could call for help.

The wailing of pains persistence behind you sounding like an injured animal begging to be put out of its misery.

The least you could do was give it a painless and Swift end.

That's what your father the king had thought you to be kind even while faced with adversities.

Clutching your dagger you ventured into the woods expecting to see an injured animal only to be met with an angel.

His skin gleamed in the light that entered through the tall forest trees.

Dispite being covered in blood and muck he still looked other worldly.

His eyes were closed and his breath laboured in pain.

Hands clutching a gaping would in his abdomen.

You hesitantly closed the distance between him and you.

Acting quickly tearing off a piece of your gown to apply pressure onto the would using the rest of the fine cloth to wrap around him to stop the bleeding at first he tried to push you away.

He had lost to much strength from bleeding that his protests barely affected your mission of helping him.

Once you were done wrapping the bandage around him you sat him up resting his back onto a tree telling him to wait as you would call for help.

He gingerly opened his eyes taking in your features his hand outstretched weakly trying to reach out to yours as if to tell you not to leave me here alone. You gave him a reassuring smile promising him that you would be back.

He gave up any more protest as he watched you make your way into the woods.

In search of the iron Smiths cabin who lived nearby. The old man had know you since you were a child and had often kept a watchful eye over you during your secret trips into the forest as he was loyal to your father.

At times he would show you around the woods teaching you about the ways of the land the plants used to heal and the ones used to poison.

You would often pay him a visit before you left leaving behind a baked treat that you had nicked from the royal kitchen in exchange for the knowledge he imparted onto you.

But truth be told he would do it for free as he loved you as one of his own.

So you could only imagine the terror on his face when he saw you covered in blood with your dress in tatters.

His hands already grabbing an axe ready to chop off the head of the man who dare lay a hand on his princess.

Only when you explained the whole situation in detail did he calm down. Following you as you lead the way to the injured man in the woods.

Grabbing the handsome man a taking him into the his cabin he was quiet impressed by your handy work he had taught you well.

The wound was dressed expertly and the herbal balm of roughly crushed leaves you had made in a hurry had managed to stop the bleeding.

He assured you that the man would live and advised you to return to the palace before the night came.

You took his advice leaving the man in the expert care of the smith.

Venturing back into the palace were you were a bird in a golden cage.

That day as you lay awake in bed your thoughts were clouded with the images of the man in the forest did he make it out alive or had the forest claimed another.

The next time you visited the smith he told you that man healed well and that some soldiers had taken him with them.

Having your curiosity satisfied you left back to the palace living your routine life as it had been before.

Yeosang's POV:

Him and a small group of soldiers were out hunting in the forests bordering your kingdom.

When he wasn't out slaughtering humans he prefred hunting down animals.

It gave him a thrill something so primal about being the predictor hunting down prey the he could smell the fear of him enemies as he approached them.

Although beautiful he was terrifying.

The face of an angel with a heart even the devil would think twice before messing with.

He had inherited the kingdom of Artem after the death of his father at the age of 14.

Since then rulling it with an iron fist.

He was intelligent and ruthless.

Conquering kingdom after Kingdom within a few years capturing nearly the entire eastern world.

He was an logical man and kept the favour of his subjects he only taxed them what was necessary and made sure all their basic needs were met.

He kept his people safe and that was all it took were other kings took and took from their people yeosang never shared the same greed. He didn't lust for treasure he only cared about power.

This mixed with the support of his people he became a formidable force with a large army of loyal soldiers he lead a blood thirsty force.

Where rivers turned red form the blood he spilt.

Being so cruel he had managed to earn a few powerful enemies one such trailing behind him waiting for a chance to strike.

An assain sent by a defeated king to stab him in the back and earn a cowards revenge.

He attacked yeosang when he had ventured into a blind spot in the woods.

Sending an arrow into his abdomen causing him to fall off his horse.

Snapping off the rest of the arrow with only the tip still loged in he unseathed his sword ready to behead his attacker.

Before the assailant had a chance to send a second arrow to finish the job.

Yeosang send his dagger flying into the man's throat effectively slicing right through it.

He had to get back to camp before more came after him.

His horse was spooked by the attack and ran off into the woods.

He followed the hoof prints his strength leaving him as blood contined to gush down him.

He decided to lay down for a second to gain some strength he feared the end was near.

He couldn't believe it.

The battles he had won only to die alone in the woods.

He chuckled at his pathetic state of being he tried getting up but was too light headed.

The darkness engulfed him it was like drowning in a dark lake and black abyss.

Everything was so dark as he decended into the cold confies.

Floating aimlessly

A bright light pierced through the darkness an outstretched hand grabbing his cold hand it's warmth seeping into him like the elixer of life.

The first thing he was was your face.

The worried look on your face as you tended to his wouds.

You were so beautiful so prestine.

From the gentle curve of your lips

To the warmth of your soft yet skilled hands.

The gentle smell of lavender oil that wafted from your body.

If this is what heaven looked like he would happily die a thousand deaths.

He struggled to grab onto you as you disappeared into the woods the smile on your face assured him that you would be back.

That was his last conciosus thought.

The next thing he knew he was surrounded by his men in a cabin of a smith.

As they took him back to his kingdom to heal him further.

Thanking the man he asked who the girl was who saved him without thinking much the smith told him that it was the kind princess taking yeosang for being a mere soldier.

Told him that he was lucky that the princess had helped a low born soldier like him.

He didn't choose to correct the smith and simply nodded and handed him a few gold coins in return for his kindness as he left back home.

He spent the next week's to come tormented by her memories her face haunted his dreams.

The light that surrounded seeped into his skin.

He was going mad he had to have her at any cost.

No matter how many men had to die

No matter how many kingdoms he had to burn down.

Decideding to have a more level headed approch he sent an envoy to your father asking for your hand in marriage.

You were the dearest of his children so the king sent a swift reply of rejection stating that you had been promised to another.

Yeosang was used to getting anything he wanted and it was the first time in his life that he faced such a swift rejection.

His ego was wounded.

Even the mightest of men hesitated before they spoke to him and some king of a tiny mountain nation had the audacity to reject his generosity. He would have none of it.

He knew your army wouldn't stand a chance against his.

That night he stormed your palace with his men beheding the gaurds and killing anyone that stand in his way.

He blocked off all the exits.

Gathering all the members of the royal family into the courtyard onto their knees.

He searched for you in the palace like a madman your name echoing through the halls of the palace.

But you remained hidden in your chamber only when the threat of slaughtering your family was heard did you leave your chamber.

You stood before him.

His body was covered in the blood of your soldier.

He didn't speak a word as he dragged you with him to a balcony that faced the courtyard now used to hold your family hostage.

He gave you a simple choice marry him of watch them die.

It didn't really matter what you chose he would kill them anyway he just enjoyed watching the fear in your eyes.

He had already ordered his men to behead them and hoist their head on spikes to serve as a lesson for anyone that denied him.

He set ablaze your kingdom which burned for days on end.

The once beautiful city was reduced to nothing but ashes and bones.

You watched helplessly strapped on his horse and you and your new husband rode off into the night illuminated by the fires burning down your home.

You watched as his face was smug with his latest trophy in his arms as tears streaked down it's face.

That's all you were to him a trophy that he would lock away in a high tower that no one could admire but him.

You were his slave more than his equal.

Your first night spent together no one was allowed to even look you in the eye you were far to precious to be tainted by the lowly gaze of those beneith him.

Locked away in a golden tower awaiting his return was the only thing you needed to worry about the only person in your life was him.

He was your god

He was your captor.

No one was coming to save you.

He thought you should consider yourself lucky to be his so completely.

As he laid down gentle kisses adorning your body with lilac and crimson marks.

As he took you beneith the moon light that illuminated your prison.

In these tender moments you would nearly forget his cruelty as you melted into his warm embrace.

That often time felt like chains

[prettieinpink]

Heyy I wanted to let you know how much I luv your page 💓Do you have any tips on how to live according to proverbs 31 ?

thank youuuu for ur support.

BECOMING A GODLY GIRLIE

FEAR THE LORD. Always seek to align your actions, identify and words with God’s will. Be obedient to him, pray, seek a non-sinning lifestyle and read his word regularly. 

‘Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.’

BUILD GODLY RELATIONSHIPS. Strive to care, love and nurture for your loved ones and the wider community. Hold yourself and your loved ones 

SEEK WISDOM, both spiritually and intellectually. A godly woman is a reliable and helpful source for those in need. Stay mature and give advice for others! Always be the bigger person and take the right course of action.

‘She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.’

BE DILIGENT AND DISCIPLINED. Being godly means that laziness is a sin. You have to be eager to work, willing to make sacrifices and do all of your tasks to a high standard. 

‘She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.

BE CHARITABLE. Always give back to your community. You can give away money, time or anything you can to the needy. This doesn’t have to be the wider community, but even doing a household chore for someone else is charitable. Any act of charity which isn’t for personal gain is godly. 

‘She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy’

STRIVE FOR ABUNDANCE. While yes, you should not be greedy with money and worldly matters, but a godly woman should develop the skill of generating prosperity especially if they are/wishes to be a homemaker. Use your finances wisely and invest appropriately

‘She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night."

INVEST IN YOURSELF. A Godly woman is a valuable woman. She is well educated, has many skills, is nurturing and fears the Lord. While we are all valuable to God, we can increase it if we take the right opportunities. 

"Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value."

KNOW YOUR WORTH. As a creation of God, you are priceless. He wants you to acknowledge that every day. Show your actions, words and will that you are a strong, dignified, capable and wise woman. Know your worth, but never flaunt it. 

"She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.

[knotmycupofchai]

🌕🔆 LEO FULL MOON MESSAGES 🌕🔆

Pick a card

* LEFT TO RIGHT *

Pile #1

Think BEFORE, you act. Bad events— consequences can come & will come if you act impulsively. You might be overwhelmed, frustrated or sad from— doubts, disappointment or trying to defend yourself, your desires and position. Do not act from these emotions, as it will not be a good outcome. Take time to yourself and get some rest. Things aren’t as they seem in your head or from your pov. You feel threatened, pressured or a sense of lack ( which is valid). However, if you look at the bigger picture or a different pov— you see there’s help. There’s a multitude of options, information… as well as opportunity for collaboration here. Just, because your presence, talents or specialties are now one of many; doesn’t mean that you have nothing unique left to offer. Don’t be afraid to continue taking up space, but do not attempt to take from someone else. This isn’t the time to project your battles onto others. Release the need to create chaos, to control everything. There’s an emphasis on social media posts, text messages, the internet and gossip of all kinds— be careful what you say and do.

Pile #2

You are going on an intense spiritual journey. You help others in their time of need, but you need to remember to take care of yourself! A loss or loved one’s death may have changed your pov on life ( as well your entire life). A shift in your familial, religious, societal and spiritual beliefs are changing. Some of you will be drawn to the fields of health care, mental or behavioral health, therapy, education, spirituality ( monk, priest, guru, divination, preacher/pastor)— as well as criminal Justice or institutions ( juvie, detention centers, police stations & prisons). Emphasis on philanthropy— any area where you help others. This may be a time where roles are reversed, someone is helping you. If you feel that what you do, already helps you than that’s great too. *You may meet new people who become family during this journey. Discover the best way to care for you, while caring for others. Set boundaries.

Pile #3

You have no choice, but to face a fear. Things are coming to light, so that you acknowledge the truth. Unfortunately, this may be exposed to others as well ( making it embarrassing or uncomfortable). A big choice, path, desire or relationship. Clear communication and a clear mind is needed. Facing the truth, challenges and uncomfortable emotions that come with that is key to moving forward. Your fear of losing or being hurt, is whats holding you back and continuing to hurt you even further. Release your anxiety and dive deep, into what you’re running away from. Your emotional baggage will continue to follow you. Your fear may be telling you that you’re afraid to get hurt, pushing people away or causing you to be blind to the signs in front of you. Is this really for you? How you choose to identify, your hearts desires and worldly desires will come to play. Logic is needed yes, but logic alone will bring down a short-term or unfulfilling path. * Don’t assume you know everything or what’s best for someone else! You cannot make a decision for someone else & you cannot control the narrative all the time.

Pile #4

Continue to stand in your independence, power and follow your gut. You will battle with being challenged, bullied, attacked and ostracized for “not staying in line”, for not “having fun”— in other words… you’ll be put in uncomfortable environments or situations, while others see no problem. If you sense something wrong, don’t be afraid to remove yourself— even if you’re by yourself. Take a close look at your friends or who you surround yourself with. Who’s standing by you and hearing your concerns or suspicions? Learn to be okay with doing what right and safe, even no one else believes you. ( drinking, smoking, drugs over indulgence in anything that doesn’t align with your morals) Be mindful of taking advice. Advice can still be deceptive, when others have hidden intentions, that don’t exactly consider you. A lot of secrets will be told to you, and you find out hidden information if you actively search for it. Do what’s right and release the truth. You may end up in a position of public power ( an influencer, teacher etc..) and telling your story, as well as other’s to break the hive mind and sheep or mob mentality .

[lifephilosophys-blog]

"كن مجتهدًا وذكيًا. فالاجتهاد سريع في تنفيذ ما تباطأ فيه الذكاء. ... شعار سامي: اسرع ببطء."

في هذه الكلمات البليغة للتاسار غراسيان من كتاب "فن الحكمة الدنيوية" نجد نظرة عميقة إلى طبيعة الاجتهاد والذكاء. هاتان الفضيلتان، عندما يتم تنميتهما ورعايتهم، لديهما القدرة على تشكيل حياتنا وإرشادنا نحو النجاح والوفاء.

إن الاجتهاد، بالتزامه الدؤوب بالعمل الجاد والمثابرة، هو بمثابة اليد الثابتة التي تدفعنا للأمام نحو أهدافنا. إنه المحرك وراء كل إنجاز عظيم، والقوة التي تحول الأحلام إلى واقع. الاجتهاد سريع الفعل، واغتنام الفرص وتحقيق الأمور.

ومن ناحية أخرى، فإن الذكاء هو هبة البصيرة والفهم التي تسمح لنا بالتنقل في تعقيدات العالم برشاقة وخفة حركة. إنها القدرة على التفكير النقدي وحل المشكلات بشكل إبداعي، ورؤية ما وراء السطح وكشف الحقائق المخفية. فالذكاء يخيم على الأمور، ويتأمل ويحلل، ويبحث عن أكثر الطرق فعالية وكفاءة للمضي قدماً.

عندما يعمل الاجتهاد والذكاء في وئام، فإنهما يشكلان مزيجًا قويًا يؤدي إلى نتائج رائعة. فالاجتهاد يسخر طاقة الذكاء، ويحول الأفكار والخطط إلى أفعال بسرعة وحسم. ويوفر الذكاء بدوره التوجيه والبصيرة اللازمين للتغلب على التحديات واغتنام الفرص بدقة وبراعة.

وفي سعينا لتحقيق طموحاتنا وتطلعاتنا، من الضروري أن ننتبه إلى الحكمة القديمة المغلفة في الشعار: "أسرع ببطء". تذكرنا هذه النصيحة الخالدة بالمضي قدمًا بتصميم وتصميم، ولكن بحذر وحكمة. يمكن أن يؤدي التسرع في المهام دون دراسة متأنية إلى أخطاء وإغفالات كان من الممكن تجنبها باتباع نهج أكثر قياسًا.

لذا، دعونا نعتنق فضائل الاجتهاد والذكاء في كل ما نقوم به. فلنعمل بلا كلل لتحقيق أهدافنا، مسترشدين بنور الحكمة والبصيرة. دعونا نتذكر دائمًا أن نتعجل ببطء، وأن نأخذ الوقت الكافي للتخطيط والتفكير في أعمالنا حتى تؤتي ثمارها في الوقت المناسب.

في نسيج الحياة الكبير، يقف الاجتهاد والذكاء كركائز للقوة والحكمة، يرشداننا نحو أعلى إمكاناتنا. نرجو أن ننمي هذه الفضائل في أنفسنا ونرعاها بعناية وتفان. ولعلنا نسعى دائمًا لتجسيد روح تعاليم بالتازار جراسيان العميقة، وخلق حياة ذات هدف، وتحقيق، والتميز.

"Be diligent and intelligent. Diligence is quick to carry out what intelligence has lingered over. ... A lofty motto: make haste slowly."

In the eloquent words of Baltasar Gracián from "The Art of Worldly Wisdom," we find a profound insight into the nature of diligence and intelligence. These two virtues, when cultivated and nurtured, have the power to shape our lives and guide us towards success and fulfillment.

Diligence, with its tireless commitment to hard work and perseverance, is like a steady hand that propels us forward towards our goals. It is the engine behind every great achievement, the force that turns dreams into reality. Diligence is quick to act, seizing opportunities and making things happen.

Intelligence, on the other hand, is the gift of insight and understanding that allows us to navigate the complexities of the world with grace and agility. It is the capacity to think critically and solve problems creatively, to see beyond the surface and uncover hidden truths. Intelligence lingers over matters, pondering and analyzing, seeking out the most effective and efficient ways to proceed.

When diligence and intelligence work in harmony, they form a powerful combination that leads to remarkable outcomes. Diligence harnesses the energy of intelligence, turning ideas and plans into action swiftly and decisively. Intelligence, in turn, provides the guidance and foresight needed to navigate challenges and seize opportunities with precision and finesse.

In the pursuit of our ambitions and aspirations, it is essential to heed the ancient wisdom encapsulated in the motto: "make haste slowly." This timeless advice reminds us to move forward with purpose and determination, yet to do so with caution and prudence. Rushing headlong into tasks without careful consideration can lead to missteps and oversights that may have been avoided with a more measured approach.

So, let us embrace the virtues of diligence and intelligence in all that we do. Let us work tirelessly towards our goals, guided by the light of wisdom and insight. Let us remember always to make haste slowly, taking the time to plan and think through our actions so that they may bear fruit in due time.

In the grand tapestry of life, diligence and intelligence stand as pillars of strength and wisdom, guiding us towards our highest potential. May we cultivate these virtues within ourselves, nurturing them with care and dedication. And may we always strive to embody the spirit of Baltasar Gracián's profound teachings, creating a life of purpose, fulfillment, and excellence.

[lets-just-daydream]

Hi there! I just found your blog and it's so good! This is my first time doing anything like this, but I was wondering if you could do some cute father figure/mother figure fluff with all of Overwatch?

CUTE

I just did a couple small drabbles because I need some of this fluff rn :3c (i suck at fluff though lol SORRY)

Drabbles under the cut!

ANA

Being in Overwatch was totally fantastic for the most part. You had fulfillment and meaning in your job, you had meals and lodging, and you had an amazing family in your fellow agents. Almost everyone felt like a sibling, father or mother to you.

Number one in the parent department was Ana. She was literally a mother and she always made time for you, especially on days like this when you were feeling down and missing your family. 

You sat alone on a bench, staring out over the grounds of Overwatch headquarters. The clink of cups on the table next to you pulled you from your thoughts and you looked up to see Ana taking the seat beside you. 

"Missing home?" She asked. 

You nodded. 

"I know that look all too well, my dear."

You didn't quite know what to say so you grabbed one of the cups of tea she brought and took a sip.

"Your family would be so proud of you, coming here and making a difference. I know it's hard, but know that we've all got your back," Ana said, offering you a warm smile. 

Between her comforting words, warm smile and hot tea, everything felt a little brighter. 

You laughed. "You somehow know where to find me every time I'm in a crisis. How do you do it?" 

Ana chuckled and grabbed her tea, bringing it to her lips. "Call it a mother's intuition." 

HANZO (bear with me on this one lmao) 

When you first met Hanzo, your number one thought was, 'oh my god he's hot.' 

But now you know him a little better and while he's attractive, he's wise beyond his years and you value his worldly views and words of wisdom. 

You saw Hanzo as a mentor and in his less-than-helpful moments, a drunk uncle to turn to when you needed some advice. Whether the advice is good or bad is neither here nor there. But he always had your back.You appreciated it. 

"How are you?" Hanzo asked as he joined you in the gym. 

You were sweating, focused and hands in boxing gloves as you really showed the punching bag who was boss. 

"I'm good," you huffed, landing another punch. "Just about done." 

"Already?" He asked. "Weak."

You looked at him, shocked. "Wha- I've been at this for half an hour, non-stop!" 

Hanzo shrugged. "You can do better." 

"Hmph." 

You tightened your gloves and faced the punching bag once again. Hanzo approached the opposite side of the bag and held onto it. You swung a punch at the bag and he scoffed.

"You call that a punch?" 

You shot him a glare and swung another, harder punch. He let out a grunt of approval and you knew his game then. 

After another 20 minutes of his encouragement at your punching, you finally tapped out and dropped to the floor, ripping the gloves off and relaxing on the cool ground. 

"That was excellent, I'm proud at how you can push through the pain," Hanzo smiled, handing you a bottle of water. 

REINHARDT

If Ana's your work mum, Reinhardt's your work dad. Your loud, excitable, enormous dad. And not just your dad, everyone's dad. He wandered through the building yelling encouragement, constructive criticisms, jokes and nonsense to everyone who would listen. Even to those who weren't listening. He was hard to block out. 

One evening as you and your team were all day around for dinner, Reinhardt began to tell a story of his old days as a Crusader. It reminded you of hearing stories of your own parents' childhoods and you settled into your seat to listen with a smile on your face as Tracer rested her head on your shoulder. 

As Reinhardt's sorry went on and he became more animated, more people filtered into the dining area and listened in, leaning on the tables, counters, sitting on the floor and even in each other's laps. 

"He's such a great story teller,' Tracer whispered as she looked around the now full room. 

You followed her gaze and you hadn't noticed how many people had joined to listen to Reinhardt's story. You even almost felt like you could fall asleep at how comfortable you were, surrounded by your Overwatch family, listening to a bedtime story from dad Reinhardt.

[angeltreasure]

Hi, I have a really difficult situation I'm dealing with and I'd appreciate all the prayers. 🙏🏻

We are just a few weeks away from the birth of our son, and I can't wait. I want to have him baptized as soon as possible, but my husband doesn't see the reason to rush, besides it being important to me. I fear that if I start explaining the importance of baptism it'll turn him away, he is a Catholic only by baptism, he believes in God but he's not living as a Catholic at all. We aren't married in Church, but only in the court (got married when I was a protestant, but we are both Catholic), and he isn't sure if he wants a wedding in a church (as in inside of a building), but that's a whole other topic. My biggest priority now is baptizing our boy, but he doesn't see the point of rushing and I'm getting depressed about it. I've been waiting for months for him to choose a godfather, he's still not sure who he wants to ask, and I'm losing hope that I can rely on him to make important decisions anymore. I feel like if I don't take things into my own hands nothing will get done. We aren't living together (different countries) and we are in a process of changing that, and he says that's his current priority. It's important, but it's a process much longer than baptizing a newborn. I went through the entire pregnancy basically on my own, I can only say God gave me strength because it's been so difficult. I can't really have a conversation about this because he's not able to see things from my point of view as my point of view is Catholic and his is worldly.

I know that's all over the place, but I hope I was able to get my point across. 😅 I'm trying not to fall into despair and trust God's plan. I never identified with St. Monica more than I do now.

Thank you for your time. I hope you have a blessed Sunday. 🕊

Hello! Thank you I hope you have a blessed Sunday too.ill absolutely pray for you and your family.

I asked my mom for advice on this one. She suggests that you talk to a Catholic priest. Explain to the priest the entire situation in detail more than you did here, and how important this Baptism is for your newborn to be. Our priests can give you advice and explain more in detail what options you have that can accommodate the situation with your family’s living situation.

[tacticalgrandma]

"I never thought I'd say this, but I need your advice." for whoever you fancy :)

Thank you!! Have some bloodkin being obnoxious sisters.

Prompts list

-

Orin’s sister spends a good deal of time telling Orin what not to do. Don’t take too long on your kills, Orin. Don’t taunt them until you know they can’t escape. Don’t mangle the pulmonary artery when you carve out the heart, don’t ask your grandfather for advice, don’t dog ear books you borrow from me. 

So Orin relishes this. She gets to tell her sister—well, it’s not a “don’t.” But it’s a “shouldn’t,” and that’s just as fun. 

Her sister is not graceful in this reversal. She scowls in a petulant way that feels familiar to Orin. She can almost imagine it’s a family resemblance. 

“Why not?” her sister asks. 

“Because your hair’s too short, bloodkin,” Orin tells her serenely. “A braid like mine would not suit your little mop well at all. You’d bruise your neck with its clasp, you’d have such little rope to hang it with in the first place. It wouldn’t flatter your beautiful, boxy face.”

“Whatever,” her sister says. Orin tilts her head, and her sister tracks the sway of silver at the end of her braid. “I bet you get it caught on shit, more than you ever actually hit anyone with it.”

“You have so many gifts in the killing arts, dearest sister. What with your bounty, must you covet my meager prizes?”

Her sister rolls her eyes, but the scowl has slipped from her face. She loiters in the doorway of Orin’s room. Orin waits patiently for her sister to expose her throat. 

Her sister frequently lectures Orin on the training she received with the Deathstalker monks. She tells Orin about all the other kinds of death she must acquaint herself with. The death of worldly attachments, the death of desire, the death of the ego. Only by killing these parts of the soul, her sister tells her, can one know the pure-red-empty that they will gift the whole world. 

Orin’s sister squirms. Orin envisions her pinned by a Slayer’s fore-mandible. The Deathstalker monks never taught her sister how to style her terrible, terrible hair. 

Orin sits down on her bed and pats next to her. “Don’t pout,” she tells her sister. “Come here, and I’ll teach you how to hide arsenic capsules in a bun.”