#foreigner’s god

[redwolf17]

🙃 Regular reminder that while Hozier has amazing love songs, he is ALSO very outspoken about his leftist politics, specifically anti-fascism, anti-racism, reproductive rights, Palestinian rights and more.

Take Me To Church and Foreigner’s God are scathing critiques of organized religion, specifically the Catholic Church and the colonization of Ireland.

Moment’s Silence is about oral sex but it’s ALSO about how that specific sexual act is often distorted to a show of power rather than that of love.

Nina Cried Power is an homage to various (mostly Black) civil rights activists from the US and Ireland and a call to follow their path.

Be criticizes anti-migrant policies and Trump and his ilk.

Jackboot Jump is about the global wave of fascism and about protest and resistance.

Swan Upon Leda is about reproductive rights and the violent colonial oppression of Ireland and Palestine.

Eat Your Young is about the ruinous way the 1%/capitalism and arms dealers prioritize short-term profit over everything else to the detriment of the youth/99%

Butchered Tongue is about Irish and other indigenous languages being suppressed and erased by imperial powers.

If any of the above surprised you, please, please delve deeper into Hozier’s music, you’re missing such an important part of his work.

[petrichorandarson]

when hozier said “always a well-dressed frog” !!!! that’s it babey

don’t know what he has to do with foreigners or gods tho

[deprivedmusicaljunkie]

when hozier said “but still my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man’s beliefs” and when hozier said “and have my foreign ear made fresh again on each unlikely sound” and when hozier said “i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies” and when hozier said “the problem brought its own solution”

[clare-with-no-i]

700 kudos on foreigner’s god, WOW thank u all so much ✨🫶🥹

[farfromstrange]

I have been sitting in front of my Google Docs library for like an hour now, and all this stress really has me doubting virtually anything I put down, and I look up and there’s this voice in my head telling me to get this fucking stick out of my ass, but imposter syndrome is saying no, and it decided to just hand me writer’s block even when it comes to fucking editing the bullshit I already wrote… what do I do? How do I write? HOW??? WHYY????

And then I get this rage when it’s not working? And I feel like I let myself down?? What’s going on???

Having a brain is weird. Being a writer with a brain is weird. Why doesn’t it just… brain? That’s rude.

Little update from me. Trying to get some Matt content down because he’s running through my veins. It’s like 1:30am and I’ll try to post later after I’ve had some sleep. It’ll be smut, probably. If I can get myself to finish editing it…

About Mikey… I’m not very satisfied with how things are going right now, and I think I need to take a quick step back from that story. Sometimes that helps with creativity.

Foreigner’s God is something I need my notes for and that’s stuck in a moving box so bear with me on that one. I have the storyline with Frank planned out and I’m gonna write as soon as I’m able to unpack the boxes again.

(On the flip side, I went to my general physician because my psychiatrist is a fucked up demon that never really cared and she told me I can get off the meds that have been making me feel weird, and since I’m moving I can finally find a new doctor and get tested for all of the neurodiversity symptoms that people have been telling me I keep showing lmao. And I’m planning a New Year’s trip to London + Comic Con in December that my new additional nerd friend is now joining me for. If you are going to German Comic Con in December, do let me know, maybe we can interact.)

Anyway, I hope you guys aren’t mad or anything that I’m so fucking slow like… I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. Brain-ing is hard right now.

[hohohozier]

I can’t stop thinking about Butchered Tongue as the successor to Foreigner’s God

[kafkawildes]

how much pain do you have to be in to pray to a god you don’t even believe in

[marsconer]

as a dabi girlie i feel like we don’t have hozier themed fics when he’s the most hozier ( by that i mean listen to cherry wine, would that i, foreigners god, sunlight, arsonist’s lullaby, angel of small death and codeine scene types not work song or wasteland, baby! even tho i’m a believer in those too ) i need an entire fic titled after those, i need to dissect them using him as my framework. i don’t care. dabi is hozier evil coded

[malaisequotes]

“Wondering who I copy, mustering some tender charm. She feels no control of her body, she feels no safety in my arms. I've no language left to say it, but all I do is quake to her. Breaking if I try to convey it: the broken love I make to her.”

Foreigner’s God by Hozier

[juicyjuicy05]

I want someone to absolutely rail me while foreigner’s god is playing

[communistkenobi]

It’s so funny when liberals lecture communists about not knowing how anything works, that we need to grow up and face the real world etc, while publicly demonstrating that their political imagination is so deeply impoverished that they genuinely believe the only thing the leader of the most powerful country on the planet in all of human history can do is block a slightly more fascist guy from taking his place every four years

[kanroji-san]

Pov: Who is Seth's favorite?

[achillesapple]

girls after listening to hozier sing the most haunting yet beautiful song about the horrors of colonialism

[clare-with-no-i]

i don’t care how effed the foreigners god law procedure and terminology is. you can pry it from my cold dead fingers (my bookmarks)

your words are a great comfort to me 😭 thank you friend 🫶

[farfromstrange]

Update!

Once again, thank you all for your kind words, it means a lot to me <3

Now, as for the life update…

I got my nails done today. Prom is tomorrow. Gotta pick up my dress tomorrow morning because my grandma made some adjustments, then I have to do my friend’s makeup because I’m the trusted makeup artist (and I don’t know why lmao). I’m so exhausted because all of the stress from the past few months has finally fallen off my shoulders. I slept 14 hours last night… ugh!

That being said, I probably won’t be able to write for the next week because I’m going to be busy as fuck. However, I wrote a little anxiety comfort piece with Mikey the night before my last final because I was completely out of it, so if any of you are interested in that, I can post it.

But I basically just came on here to tell you that I won’t be very active for the next week. I love you all so much, and I’m coming back, this is just a time issue thing 🫶🏻 (I’m alright mentally, I promise. I haven’t been doing well for a while but the stress is gone and I feel a lot better, I just have a lot of personal plans I need to tend to. Don’t worry, my loves, it’s just gonna be a week)

If you want to catch up on my Michael Kinsella series Chaos Theory while I’m putting it on the back burner for a bit, you can find the series here.

I will work on Foreigner’s God and my Matt requests as soon as I can, but for the next seven days (until Thursday, to be precise) I’ll be majorly busy.

Requests are closed, still. And they will remain closed until I’ve got my life sorted out and can actually enjoy summer break before the new chapter of my life starts in September.

I love you all, stay safe and take care of yourselves!

[muxshwriting]

foreigner's god

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

summary: you're forced to marry a man you hate and play along as his dutiful wife. but what you what is revenge. || warnings: arranged marriage, main character death, injury, mentions of r@pe (one sentence, right at the end) || words: 702 || masterlist

READ THE WARNINGS ON THIS ONE!!

Feyd-Rautha knew you would be his from the moment he saw you. Your father, Leto, had presented you at Harkonnen court, as per the customs of his people. You moved with such grace and innocence that he wished to hide you from this world. Feyd did not listen to his Uncle as he discussed the arrangement with Duke Leto, choosing instead to stare at you.

A month later, you were married to the na-Baron and shipped off to Geidi Prime to play prized pet. You did not love him. You could not love him. Each night, he returned to your chambers far later than you. He climbed into bed and pulled you closer to him. But his touch brought you no comfort, only shame.

Three months after your union, you found yourself on Arrakis. House Harkonnen was celebrating the extinction of the Atreides, of your flesh and blood, your family. In the secret of your room, you let the tears fall, not caring enough about the loss of water but crying for your mother and father and brother who had been brutally murdered.

Since arriving on Arrakis, Feyd had required you to be by his side as much as possible. Even as Fremen attacks continued, he didn’t wish you surrounded by guards or back on Geidi Prime. He required you by his side.

And that was where you found yourself now. He held you to his side as the Fremen filled the chamber. They did not attack the Sardaakar, nor try to kill the Emperor. They waited and watched, blades drawn. They were waiting for him.

The Lisan-Al-Gaib. The Fremen’s Messiah that they followed without question. He marched into the hall, face shrouded in shadows and back turned as he muttered words to some men. He turned. And he was Messiah no more, now he was a very familiar face.

“Paul.”

Your brother was standing in front of you, alive. Paul was alive. The more you looked, the more you saw. Gurney Halleck was standing ten paces behind Paul and behind him was your mother, draped as a Reverend Mother. Without thinking, you pushed yourself away from Feyd and weaved towards him.

“Y/N.” The whisper of your name was all it took for you to launch yourself at him, hugging him tightly.

“I thought you were dead.”

Paul felt you relax in his arms. “What are you doing here?”

Feyd’s voice cut through the reunion, his drawl grating down your skin. “Wife…” You knew what he wanted. Feyd wanted you to return to his side, be loyal to your husband and stand against your own blood. The thought made your blood boil. Your face was murderous as you went to turn. But Paul caught your arm, meeting your eyes and silently communicating. He hugged you one last time but pressed a blade into your hand.

You slipped that blade beneath your skirts, settling your face into a far more demure look as you walked back to your husband. As you reach his side you tilt up to whisper in his ear.

“Did you know?”

Feyd subtly shakes his head. “Perhaps Uncle did.”

"Perhaps your Uncle will know when you are dead." You whisper back.

Feyd frowns, asking the silent question. What did you mean? Before he can speak, a blade is buried in his chest, digging into him. You had moved slowly, pushing it through his shield and supple flesh. The relief his imminent death brought you was immediate. This was a man who belonged to the house of your greatest enemy. His Uncle had ordered the death of your entire family and he had brutally hunted down Fremen for sport. This was the end of him.

You withdrew the knife, throwing it on the ground in front of him. "The blood is for you, my love." You recited the words he had spoken on your wedding night, when your blood and tears had stained the sheets and left you hurting for days.

This was personal, not just for your House. This was for you. No one could take that from you. He would not take anything from you again.

My heart is heavy with the hate of some other man's beliefs.

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