#prophecy

[angelx1992]

[mochiwei]

Day 17: Prophecy

[one-time-i-dreamt]

In 2025 Wikipedia will go under, a wildfire will destroy most of the campus of a local college and the next big Tumblr Sexyman is gonna be an emoji that’s into S+M.

[cassie48]

∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

(Eventual)Dark!Paul Atreides x fem pregnant reader

• Pt 1 •

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

You and Paul grew up together on Caladan. You were born on the same day, on the same hour. Paul’s mother lady Jessica had always seen you as a daughter and for some unknown reason, insisted that you and her son always stay together.

When you and Paul grew to become teenagers, feelings became involved, and a powerful love blossomed. When the two of you heard you had to leave for Arrakis, you were both petrified. But you knew everything would be ok, as long as you stayed together.

When the two of you arrived to the planet, the local fremen called Paul the “Lisan al-Gaib” and you the “malaka”. Neither of you knew what that meant. So, walking hand in hand, you glanced at each other, both your faces full of confusion and curiosity.

When you were told that the names meant 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 and 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯, both of you were confused.

The night before the imperial Sardaukar troops invaded Arrakis, you found out you were pregnant. It was a complete shock and you and Paul were barely 20. You told Paul as soon as you found out. He comforted you, saying the baby was a blessing, and you two would get through it together.

When the troops came in, all hell broke lose. Thankfully you made it out with Paul, and met lady Jessica before running for the hills. Your hand went to your belly, complete fear consuming you. You three managed to get a plane and fly out.

After surviving a storm, and a long, dangerous journey, the three of you ended up in Fremen territory. You met Chani, who was sceptical of your boyfriend, but seemed to like you.

One man was not happy with your arrival and even challenged Jessica. Paul fought for her, killing the man, after a long brutal fight.

As soon as he had done it, he walked straight up to you, he looked full of power and confidence.

“It’s ok my love” he had told you as he hugged you close to him, his hand eventually resting on you belly. Jessica had told you she was pregnant as well, which eased up your nerves, knowing you two would get through it together.

After a good few weeks with the Fremen, Paul learned the ways of the Fremen being taught by stilgar , you tried to do what you could , which was little as you were now coming up to almost 4 months pregnant.

It all changed when Paul rode his first sand worm, you stood with the Fremen watching along with them as you saw Paul do nearly the impossible, smiling at him

All the Fremen beside you stared yelling out 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹-𝗚𝗮𝗶𝗯, some walking up to you before kneeling, and taking your hand yelling out 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗮, praising you

You were confused and scared, and just wanted your boyfriend to hold you. More and more people came up to you grabbing your hand, until suddenly you began to cry. You don’t really know why, but your emotions had been all over the place with your pregnancy.

As soon as Stilgar saw you crying he yelled out at the Fremen, asking them 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘺!

Immediately they stopped, backing away with whispered apologies to you. When you told Paul later he was outraged.

“Do they think they can grab you like that? You are pregnant they could have hurt you or the baby!” He yelled out, pure rage in his voice.

“It’s ok Paul real-“ you started

“No. It’s not, you were crying, Chani told me. This has to stop” is all he said before pulling you into a hug, you resting your head on his shoulder, his head resting on your own.

Jessica had told you she thinks your baby’s is a boy, you believe her, as she is now the reverend mother. She had really changed, it scared you.

The Fremen and Paul continued fighting against the Sardauker troops, most were very successful. Sadly they blew up the temple, where many had been inside and where they prayed and laid their loved ones to rest.

Paul had been called down to speak with the leaders in the south of Arrakis, he took Stilgars place as he had been injured from the attack.

When you two arrived, Paul told you to go to sleep for a while, you were now seven months pregnant and your body was becoming tired more often.

After about two hours Jessica came up, yelling for you, saying Paul was in trouble. You jumped out of bed and waddled down to him as fast as you possibly could.

She told you he had drank worm blood, to gain an understanding of the prophecy and his future. She told you only your years would bring him back to life. Of course, you had already been crying, so it wasn’t so hard.

Paul gasped and sat up, coming back to reality, he glared seeing all the people surrounding them. He turned to look at you, smiling as he did, cupping your cheeks. You leant into his touch, throwing yourself into his embrace, letting many tear’s escape.

Stilgar yelled out “As it was written!” In pure shock.

“Paul why’d you do it!” You yelled, while crying into his shoulder.

“It’s ok. I understand now. This baby, it’s a miracle, 𝗛𝗲 shall rule after me” he said smiling while looking at you adoringly.

“What? I-I don’t understand! Rule?” You said still crying from the events.

“Trust me. You are the Malaka. You, are the most important woman on the planet right now. This pregnancy, it’s in the prophecy, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 were in the prophecy my love” he said properly sitting up.

“W-What?” You whispered still confused.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about any of this, you trust me don’t you” He said leaning in closer to you.

You nodded, leaning your body into his, your crying and worrying making you tired.

“Good.” Is all he said leaning into you and kissing you passionately, forgetting you two had a whole audience.

“Oh em well everybody give Lisan al-Gaib and the Malaka privacy” stilgar ordered as the Fremen left yelling out messiah words in their language.

You and Paul continued making out for around five minutes before he noticed how tired you were.

“Come my love” he said as he picked you up, holding you tightly in his arms. You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, feeling completely safe in his embrace.

“No one will harm you, my love” he whispered as you drifted off to sleep.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

There will be a pt2!!

[prokopetz]

I can't help but feel that we're misusing the Apollo's Dodgeball meme by posting it in response to people consciously engaging in well-founded speculation. Like, that's not prophecy, that's just pattern recognition.

[athenepromachos]

The divine twins Artemis and Apollo 🏛🏹🏹☀️🌛🐕

[sunkissedbyapollo]

You can’t escape the dodgeball of prophecy.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

What is something to look for in 2024?

Things to look forward to next year (or if reblogging in 2025, tag yourself with which one was your favorite):

Vladimir Putin admits he is not from St. Petersburg Russia, but St. Petersburg Florida.

Hollow Knight: Silksong is cancelled after Epic Games demands 150% of its profits.

Donald Trump's anus prolapses during a debate. He lies and says it didn't, and keeps debating until he passes out.

Joe Biden resigns so that Kamala Harris can prove her worth as the new president.

Kamala Harris names Tom Hanks as her VP.

Kamala Harris resigns so that Tom Hanks can prove his worth as the new president.

Dune Part 2 is cancelled by Warner Bros for a tax deduction. Timothée Chalamet rallies the extras to attack Warner Bros HQ, David Zaslav is eaten by a sandworm during the fight.

The Summer Olympics are canceled due to Covid. Not the disease, but athlete Covid Johnson Jr, who should've known not to light the torch that way in public.

The European Union breaks up due to a fight that began on stage at the Eurovision Song Contest over a performance of Sweden's controversial ballad, "Hej Estland, du luktar som Lutefisk."

Apple Vision Pro bombs due to its price, which is several times the gross national product of Canada, per unit.

Canada is annexed by Denmark when it tries to buy an Apple Vision Pro.

Tom Hanks is elected president of the United States of America.

Tom Hanks foots the bill for a release of Hollow Knight: Silksong on Steam and Nintendo Switch, becoming the most popular president in history.

The character of "Mickey Mouse" Enters the public domain.

Disney violently overthrows popular president Tom Hanks, starting the Second American Civil War and retaining the rights to Mickey Mouse.

The Second American Civil War is cancelled by Disney for a tax deduction.

Jessica Biel announces her marriage to Justin Timberlake will become polyandrous with the inclusion of Lance Bass and one Backstreet Boy to be named later.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Weapon. They needed a weapon. Unfortunately, all they could come up with was an ancient torchstick that wasn't even on fire.

They hefted up the torch anyway, heart trapped somewhere in their throat, and backed up another step.

Three of the undead lurched towards them. They had the swords, the bastards. They were probably actual fighters too, once, not little idiots who should have died before ever being dragged to this nightmare place.

Maybe they'd get lucky. Maybe the torch would be sufficiently stake-like.

Given the terrible slurping noises the protagonist had heard behind them as they scrambled out of the ancient temple, the screaming that went quiet, they didn't think they'd get lucky. Maybe it was karma.

"Careful now," came a voice. Less raspy, more silken, more alive - but not one that the protagonist recognised. "If you back up any further, you're going to tumble right off the cliff. And wouldn't that be a waste?"

The protagonist didn't dare glance behind them to check if it was true, but they couldn't stop their attention from flicking up.

The beautiful stranger lounged a top of the great door, hastily locked again, watching. They waggled their fingers in a 'hi'.

Maybe falling off a cliff wouldn't be so bad, given the alternative. The protagonist still didn't want to die. Stupidly, they didn't want to die.

The undead lunged for the protagonist's throat.

The protagonist swung the torch wildly. It impacted. It just...didn't do anything. It would have at least winded and doubled over an actual person. But the undead...

The stranger leapt down, landing cat-like in the fray. They had none of the frantic movements of some of the lesser undead; ravenous and rabid.

They clicked their tongue and the undead all stopped, eyeing the two of them warily. They skittered back from the stranger.

The stranger pulled the sword from their own belt and offered it, hilt first, to the protagonist.

"Duel wield?" they offered. "Bit more of a fair fight."

It wasn't remotely, but the protagonist would still take it, with trembling fingers.

The stranger smiled at them. all sharp teeth and searing crimson eyes. They bowed their head. Then they stepped smartly out of the way again and the undead once more advanced.

It went a little better with an actual sword. The three undead were - if not dead - no longer capable of mauling the protagonist's throat. It wasn't good enough.

The protagonist crumbled to their knees, gasping in pain. They clutched the sword loosely in their hand. They touched a hand to their shoulder. Bloodied. Burdened with teeth marks. Their vision swam.

The stranger stopped in front of them, still smiling.

The great door rumbled with the force of bodies slamming against it, trying to get out. The protagonist very much doubted anyone in there was still alive in the traditional sense.

"This is fitting," the stranger said, gesturing at them. "I like this."

Dizzy, the protagonist lurched off their knees and lunged again, as clumsy as the undead had been. They certainly couldn't just wait to die.

The stranger merely stepped aside and let the protagonist stagger a step, before swiping their legs out from beneath them.

The protagonist hit the ground hard. The sword clattered out of their hand. The stranger plucked it up, tucking it neatly back into their holster.

"Who are you?" the protagonist managed. They began to push themselves up again.

"You woke me up. In the temple."

The protagonist swore quietly. "Yeah - about that -"

"-I thought the prophesied one would be a better fighter. Less willing to spill their magical blood. You are them, aren't you?"

"No."

The stranger laughed softly, delighted, and grabbed the back of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a misbehaving kitten. "You're pathetic." They sounded entirely too endeared by this fact. "Come on." They dragged the protagonist bodily away from the cliff edge, past the bodies of the undead, back towards the terrible, terrible door.

The protagonist thrashed.

Predictably, it did no good. In fact, it did the precise opposite as they left blood in the dirt and the three bloody undead began to heal before their eyes.

The stranger deposited them with startling gentleness on their knees again. They stroked their fingers through the protagonist's hair, taking a moment to calm them, all soothing noises and shushing sounds. The other arm hooked around the protagonist's throat, cradling them securely against them. Trapped.

The two of them looked at the door.

The protagonist could still hear the undead behind it. They wailed and clawed - nothing like the figure behind them.

The other undead kneeled in a circle around them and the stranger. The protagonist didn't like the way they looked at the stranger - like they were everything, like they were god. It was far more lucid than they had been before. They looked less zombie-like too. More real.

"Don't do this," the protagonist said into the silence. "Please don't do this."

They already knew what would happen if they touched their blood to that door again.

"Our people are hungry," the stranger replied. "They have spent so long in the dark and the slumber, waiting for you. You can't abandon them now. We can't abandon them now."

The protagonist shook their head. They wanted to say something daring and clever, but there was a whimper caught in their windpipe.

"It's not so bad." The stranger held them a little tighter. "You're going to help them. They won't be quite so brain dead once they've had a bit of you. They won't slaughter everyone."

"Just most people?" It came out choked.

"Depends entirely on if most people are willing to accept my rule, my saviour."

"I'm not - I didn't - I didn't want any of this."

A week ago, they hadn't even known.

"I know," the stranger murmured. "I know you didn't. Children of fate rarely do. That's why their hands must be forced by destiny."

"My hands were forced by cultists."

The stranger shrugged. "Destiny takes many forms."

"You killed them. Let them-"

"-My people were very hungry. Who was I to deny them? Besides." The stranger bowed their head, so their lips brushed the top of the protagonist's head. "They hurt you."

"You hurt me. Your people-"

"I wouldn't have let them get too rough. I just wanted to see what you could do. I don't think anyone expected you to escape the temple and seal the doors again in the first place. Lucky I was around!"

Lucky was not the word that the protagonist would have used.

"Just reach out a hand," the stranger murmured. "And all this can be over. You will be a hero."

"To the undead."

"To what is yours. To what you belong to."

Maybe it made no difference in the grand scheme of apocalypse, but the protagonist didn't reach out a hand that time. They expected the stranger to bark out an order, for the undead to wrench their palm forward and bleed them like the cultists had. A lamb on an altar.

The silence stretched.

The stranger couldn't make them.

The realisation struck the protagonist heady, impossibly light-headed with hope. They didn't understand why, or how, or much of any of the horror. But if the stranger could make them, they would have already done so.

The protagonist laughed. Wild. Delirious. Their head tipped back against the stranger's chest.

"They suffer in there," the stranger said. Less amused. More quiet. "They are trapped. Help them."

"No."

"This is what you were made for. Promised for."

"Then maybe," the protagonist said, "destiny should have asked for my opinion first."

"Please," the stranger said, and the protagonist didn't know what to do with that. "Please."

It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. That begging wasn't how the story went, was it? Ancient evil didn't beg.

"No," the protagonist said, a little softer. "Sorry."

The stranger let go.

The protagonist crumbled, gasping, on the door stop.

"Then I suppose." The stranger stepped up to the door, pressing a longing hand against the stone. "We're doing this the hard way."

[destroyingangela]

i’ve got the mark of tth e beast but the beast is autism

[pratchettquotes]

Granny Weatherwax didn't hold with looking at the future, but now she could feel the future looking at her. She didn't like its expression at all.

Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters

[goryhorroor]

horror sub-genres: animal

[reality-detective]

Paul Harvey 🤔

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I attempted to follow a treasure map based on a cryptic prophecy I got from the local Starbucks.

[prokopetz]

Sometimes a see a post you've made and I think "Huh, this is on my dash again", and then I look at the date and it's a new post made mere moments ago and I can't find any evidence of you having made this post before and I'm trying to decide whether this is something you do intentionally or if I have an Extremely Limited Ability to Make Prophecy

Consider which of the following scenarios is more likely:

There have in the course of this blog's eleven-year history been occasions whereupon similar-but-unconnected events have prompted me to respond in similar ways.

You are a wizard.

[pleaseletmecomehome]

AN EFFORT AT A PLEADING

I'm not usually so directly vulnerable--but the time has come for me to make the most of my time on Earth and reach out to my fellow human beings in order to achieve what I long to;

I do believe God calls me to do this--and I don't know what will happen in the wake of sending this out into the interwebs--maybe nothing--maybe a lot--maybe my life and my spirtual outcome can be entirely changed--maybe I'll become a miracle.

Look, I don't have a way of explaining all of this, but the most important fact is that five or maybe six years ago--I met someone who was the messiah in a different reincarnation and I was meant to fufill a prophecy--doesn't matter the reason I was chosen or the prophecy went unfilled, but the prophecy was laid into place and I chose to ignore it and changed its path. After much dissernment, of course.

Anyway, I digress. I have recieved new instructions on the course of direction that the path is taking and I'm asking for help here--it is simple, I need good vibes, loving worship, witchcraft--whatever you've got--I need you to direct (at least a portion of it) at the Big Man Himself on my behalf.

I am waiting for an important sign, usually reserved for saints, or otherwise holy people. I am waiting to recieve the stigmata--it is part of a really complicated plan and honestly something I'm only a small piece of on a cosmic scale--for maybe, just maybe (if all the pieces fall into the right places) the saving of multiple universes or timelines...

Look the stigmata signals I have passed the test and the next phase may go down--and so, while, I don't normally wanna talk about the stuff outloud (or as it maybe online in a assumed username and a blog)--this crap is heavy, I understand that--but I'm not asking for anything but a few prayers, vibes, offerings, etc be thrown upstairs on my behalf--I'm doing my best here, but I really need help.

Anyway--do what you must or what you feel compelled to do to in order to let me be granted the stigmata--it might be the beginning of everything and it could save us all (not to be dramatic)--so please, just at least consider it when you see my post.

Thanks--D'ARC