#the fifth sacred thing

[thejaymo]

Bought some art from Jessica Perlstein

#solarpunk

So happy to have a print of this!! 😍

#solarpunk #Jessica Perlstein #starhawk #The Fifth Sacred Thing #solar punk #permaculture

[abookisafriend]

the fifth sacred thing, by starhawk: four and a half out of five honeybees

i've been looking forward to this book for a long time. it's a classic of utopian literature…and dystopian literature. can a pacifist society survive contact with a militarized society…and keep its soul intact?

the first third or so of the book establishes the community around which the book is based. an egalitarian commune has grown out of the rubble of post-apocalyptic san francisco, and they face all the challenges of life plus the dread of what could happen when the replacement for the old u.s. government comes knocking to "claim" its old territory. that government is an amalgam of corporate rule, military domination, and pseudoreligious oppression that controls every aspect of life, down to the water.

the book was written in 1993, and -- except for the frequent mentions of the ozone layer, which we were actually able to fix, it seems prescient. early reviewers called the mixture of fascism and pseudochristianity an "overused SF bugbear" (thanks wikipedia), but it's exactly what we're facing today. the question of whether we can survive peacefully -- whether we can transform the virulent enemy culture before it kills us or makes us monsters ourselves -- is the central question of the novel.

the portrayal of fascist rule is brutal. nothing is held back. this is not a novel for people who have ptsd flashbacks.

at the same time, the portrayal of mundo bueno -- the good world -- is so lavish and loving that it's worth reading the first third of the book just to see starhawk's vision of what is possible. witness the streets with clean fishing streams running beside them, the avenues lined with sweet fruit trees and verdant gardens. witness the love and freedom possible with a community of lovers. that's a major aspect of the book: it's an advertisement for the future. the future we can win if we set down divisions and power struggles of "race," gender, and class…a shamelessly queer and polyamorous future, i might add, and a future in which all ancestries and cultures are celebrated in a kind of joyful melange anchored in respect for the four sacred things, which cannot be owned or stolen -- earth, air, water, and fire -- and the most subtle of all, the fifth sacred thing, spirit.

it's a novel full of magic and miracles, but the thesis of the novel doesn't depend on anything supernatural: it just depends on the question of whether humanity can be awakened even in those in whom it has been deliberately crushed to make them subservient tools of a killing machine. what it really comes down to is the conscience of the universal soldier.

i'm going to end the review with this video, in the spirit of starhawk's call to compassion. what if they gave a war and, finally, nobody came? all told, a fantastic effort; a classic: five out of five honeybees

#the fifth sacred thing #you gotta read this book #utopia #dystopia #utopian fiction #dystopian fiction #scifi #sf #science fiction #fantasy #science fantasy #book review #book reviews #review #reviews #queer lit #starhawk #Youtube

[arielarriaga]

...feeling suddenly a little shy. The moment in the garden had passed. In this moment, he was afraid. So much time had gone by, so much had changed. He had, and she had. They were, in reality, strangers to each other. And yet so close. She was like a lost part of his history, sprung up to smile at him and look him over with eyes that saw too much.

- The Fifth Sacred Thing

#STARHAWK #The Fifth Sacred Thing

[chronbinary]

"a 1970s occult illustration of a rainbow over rolling hills"

#this is an older one i never posted #it reminds me of The Fifth Sacred Thing #people #landscapes #rainbows #ai art #dall e 3 #mine #art #ai

[bevsdee]

Hello and welcome to the USS Enterprise. We are the flagship of the Federation, so you’ll be spending a lot of time with delightful characters like: captain Jean Luck Pickerd; an empath who is a terrible driver; Mr Woof; wannabe human who can literally kill you but is too polite, and ugly sweater kid. Our doctor is known for dancing, the engineer is blind and falls in love with holograms. and our first officer is a horny bisexual who plays jazz trombone. also, everyone is queer. We have many fine storylines, such as: Omnipotent Being Says Hello, Oh No- It's Mother, Omnipotent Being Is Back Again, and Doctor Fucks A Ghost. As you stroll around ten forward enjoying your prune juice or gagh, watch out for our nefarious villains: cube collective, the Romulans, the not Romulans, and the Profit Goblins. Have fun!

💫 now with an all new spinoff show: everyone, but Older! 💫

#with wonderful side characters such as: #Q is for Queer #bartender with a Big Hat #daughter of the fifth house - holder of the sacred chalice of rixx - heir to the holy rings of betazed™ #and a trans cat #idea stolen from tumblr user wongbal :) #star trek #tng #vell says things

[is-the-thing-actually-jewish]

are otters or songbirds more jewish i have an argument to settle

Rating: Songbirds, but there's a makhloket

The majority opinion holds that songbirds are more Jewish than otters, as it is written, “Even the sparrow has found a home and the swallow a nest for herself in which to set her young near Your altar, O LORD of hosts, my Sovereign and my God” (Psalms 84:4). There are many other texts that mention songbirds throughout the Tanakh; there are zero results for “otter” as referring to the animal on Sefaria in our sacred texts.* Thus, the simple answer is that songbirds are more important in Judaism, and therefore more Jewish, than otters. Additionally, medieval Jewish illumination such as the famous Bird's Head Haggadah depicts Jews with human bodies and the heads and beaks of birds, indicating a close connection between Jews and birds:

However, as is Jewish tradition, we preserve the following minority opinions as well: 

Otters are more Jewish than songbirds: Songbirds were created on the fifth day of creation, while otters, like humans, were created on the sixth day. Therefore, otters are closer to humanity, and Jews are part of humanity, so otters are more Jewish than songbirds. (Genesis 1:20-24) Furthermore, this photo from the Cincinnati Zoo speaks for itself:

Both otters and songbirds are equally Jewish: Psalms 50:10-11 reads “For Mine is every animal of the forest, the beasts on a thousand mountains I know every bird of the mountains, the creatures of the field are subject to Me.” Clearly, this covers both otters and songbirds, so both are equally Jewish. Furthermore, otters and songbirds both look extremely cute in yarmulkes, which may not be halakhically relevant but feels important to state nonetheless.

Neither otters nor songbirds are Jewish; however, they are righteous gentiles under the Noahide covenant: To be Jewish means to be bound by the Abrahamic covenant in relationship with the Holy One. As animals are neither descended from Jewish parents nor have the agency to choose to be bound by the covenant made between God and Abraham, as human converts do, neither otters nor songbirds are Jewish**. However, following the great flood, God said to Noah, “I now establish My covenant with you and your offspring to come, and with every living thing that is with you—birds, cattle, and every wild beast as well—all that have come out of the ark, every living thing on earth. (Genesis 9:9-10). This covenant, symbolized by the rainbow, is God’s commitment to every living thing (clearly including both songbirds and otters) that God will never flood the Earth again-- something every one of us can support.

*(okay, there are three results: one is a typo for “utter” as in “our otter ruin” and the other two are German). 

** My cat, however, is definitely Jewish.

#jumblr #general category topic #birds #songbirds #otters #rainbow #crack treated seriously

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Ceremony [Asgard! Loki x Fem. Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Every 1000 years, the gods of Asgard provide their sacred seed in a revered and respected ceremony🍆✨ Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Voyeurism. Language. Humour. A/N: Inspired by a scene in The Tudors where Henry VIII has a w*nk into a dish held by a servant. @lokischambermaid thank you for being my unwavering bad influence and cackle-merchant. (w/c 3.1k)

Loki sighed, turning and gazing critically at his reflection. He pulled the tie of his ceremonial robe tight around his hips. Green and gold. “Why we must endure this infernal sideshow of lewd banality, mother? It’s absurd.” Frigga rolled her eyes, a laugh catching on her tongue as she tutted gently. “I tell you this every millennia, Loki. The Ceremony of the Sacred Seed is not a sideshow. It is imperative to the good of Asgard.” “Watching the Royal family masturbate onto a garish golden platter is imperative to the good of Asgard? I see.” Loki huffed, smoothing his hair in the mirror.

The material was finest spun silk chiffon, the barely opaque fabric clinging seductively to every curve of Loki’s muscled body. A little too seductively, for Loki’s liking.

Intricate lace was hearted to the edging, pure sewn gold weighing on the hem. The ceremonial dressing gowns were woven by hand, the delicate work passed through generations. Creation of each of the three bespoke items for the gods of Asgard were legend, spanning the thousand years between ceremonies. Only the eldest and most revered weavers of the city were instructed; the knobble-fingered crones, Loki thought. He shivered, the image like freezing water on his balls. Frigga knew he was toying with her, but still...she felt the need to remind him of the role he must play. That all the men in their family must play. “You know very well that the seed is collected, that it is offered to the soil beneath the Tree of All Things to ensure Asgard’s continued prosperity. The people must-” “-The people must see that their gods' are strong, virile and willing to serve the realm with our innate power, brother. Our sacred seed gives sustenance to the tree, which in turn serves the people. Yes, mother?” Thor boomed. His own ceremonial robe hung loose at the waist, his oiled chest on display; the tie dangling ominously close to revealing all that lay beneath. He took a bite of an apple, the crunch making Loki flinch. “Yes, darling.” Frigga replied, squeezing Thor’s forearm as he grinned widely between messy chews. Loki grimaced, turning away. “Why must I always be last? It’s humiliating.” he murmured, tucking his hair behind his ears as he lingered on his reflection. His eyes flickered upward, seeing Thor’s beaming face appear ghoulishly over his shoulder. “Because you’re my little brother, brother.” the blonde smirked, taking another bite of apple. “I don’t know why you always make such a fuss, Loki. This is my sixth ceremony...and your fifth. Just close your eyes and think of someone pretty.” “We are not all as brutish in our carnal delights as you, brother” he hissed, “to whom the mere sight of a curvaceous table leg during a feast has him making a hasty exit to his chambers and the embrace of his hand. Some of us require more complex inspiration.”

Frigga raised her eyebrows, lips pursed at the familiar spat between her sons. Loki’s ceremonial gown swirled around his bare legs as he paced the floor, incandescent with self-satisfied vitriol. “...and inspiration such as that, I shan’t find behind those doors. Especially not as the third act to my father and brother’s sequential onanism.” “Onanism, brother?” Thor scrunched his eyebrows as a low cheer echoed from the hall next door, the sign that Odin’s contribution in the ceremony had been secured. “Self-pleasure, you cretinous rube.” the dark-god muttered, staring out the window-arch at the pink glow settling over the city below. “It’s time, Thor.” Frigga said, sensing the approach of the guards to usher her blonde son to his duty. He tossed the half-eaten apple towards Loki, a flick of his brother’s wrist making it vanish in mid-air. “Time to give the people want they want.” Thor grinned, throwing Loki a wink as Frigga tightened the belt around his hips. “Prepare yourself, Loki...I shan’t be long.” he rumbled smugly, making his way towards the now-open golden doors to the side, striding past the guards with arms outstretched. Loki could hear his brother working the crowd, their welcoming applause making him shudder. Two-hundred of Asgard’s dignitaries waited through those doors; standing in the side-wing of the great hall. Murals of past ceremonies decorated the alcove, visual reminders of memories that Loki would rather forget. Fifty witness spaces were balloted to the citizens of Asgard, the right to attend considered the highest honour. ‘The Ceremony of the Sacred Seed must be witnessed. We must be seen to be benevolent’, Loki thought, recalling his mother’s words in the lead up to his first experience with this accursed tradition. He rolled his eyes silently, making Frigga chuckle. “I shall leave you now.” she murmured, touching his arm lightly before her dress was but a whisper across the marble floors. For the first time, Loki felt the clench of nerves in his stomach. A thumbnail scratched at the gold edging of the robe by his heart, slipping to rub the muscle beneath. He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply as he summoned familiar thoughts of the one he adored from afar. The one he craved. The forbidden one.

His hand slid down his chest between the soft fabric, the tie of his robe loosening. Massaging his soft cock, he could feel the first stirrings as his mind perused well-trodden fantasies. Slipping down the shoulder of her dress to plant a biting kiss, a tug of her wrists fastened to his bedpost, one slick soaped-up calf rising seductively above the rim of his claw-foot tub. Loki shivered, a wave of desire rolling down his spine, ass clenching. The loose fist he had made around his manhood pressed outward, the flesh thickening beneath dangerous thoughts. He was ready.

On cue, respectful cheers rumbled through the wall signalling that Thor’s dutiful service to the realm had been a success. Quick and artless, as usual; Loki thought with a smirk. The engraved golden doors swung backwards, palace guards setting themselves at either side in wait of their prince. Loki took a deep breath, striding barefoot across the marble floor. The flow of his ceremonial garb grazed his ankles with each long step, his shoulders squared; jaw set. He stared ahead, as imposing in the luxurious garment as he would be in his battle armour. The god’s dark hair rested behind his shoulders, one curl falling forward as he gave a curt nod to the high-priestess standing in the centre of the alcove. She raised an arm with difficulty, the long draped sleeves of her white gown made of the same intricate material as his robe. Don’t think about the knobbled crones, Loki thought; cursing himself inwardly.

“Loki Odinson. Prince of Asgard. Second son of our most sacred royal lineage...” Her voice was strong and commanding despite her advanced age, the white of her hair strewn across the back of her dazzling gown. “God of Mischief and Chaos; sworn protector of Asgard and its people. Do you consent to a ceremonial offering of your most sacred seed this night?” Loki’s eyes went out of focus momentarily, the temptation to roll them almost overwhelming. “I do.” he muttered, to a murmur of approval from the shuffling crowd. He ran his gaze around the half-moon congregation, two-hundred spectators waiting with a mix of trepidation and awe as Loki took his place in the centre. His stare crawled across familiar faces from council meetings and feasts, dignitaries and statesmen who had roamed his father's halls all his life. Their presence was to be expected.

In the middle of the crowd, the Asgardian citizens stood, their clothes noticeably less refined. Less...gold. Many held their hats in their hand, reverent and disbelieving at the sights they had seen thusfar as sunset drew closer. Four guards stood in a square around the dark prince, each holding a pole from which white silk hung like a flag. They all turned; eyes cast upward as they raised their posts to conceal the prince from the waist up. Loki heard a disappointed hush of whispers from his left, tilting his head in half-interested acknowledgment of their discontent. Of course, he thought with a smirk; observing a small group of women. The wives and daughters of Asgard’s political elite. With one notable exception. “It is time.” the high-priestess announced, passing the infamous golden platter to her disciple. Loki nonchalantly untied his ceremonial robe, letting the exquisite green fabric fall loose at his chest. He threw a knowing glance toward the women leaning forward in rapt attention as the silk-chiffon slid down his shoulders, catching on the curve of his biceps. They giggled, quickly hushed by their elders. Every inch revealed more of the legendary landscape of his body, forearms tensing as his broad shoulders rolled back. Several of the women gasped audibly, the ceremonial robe pooling on the floor around his bare feet with a soft rustle. Loki knew that the dying rays of sunlight from the circular window behind would be radiating across his skin, sparking the gloss of every strand of raven hair. He raised his chin upward, letting the crowd admire their prince as he gave a nod to the high-priestess. A sudden scent wafted in his nostrils, making them flare. Poppy. Only one person in this palace wore the scent of poppy.

His stomach fluttered, excited murmurs from the crowd becoming white noise as his eyes fell on she who haunted his thoughts. She slid beside the gaggle of women muttering to each other. There you were. Your face collected; dutiful. Beautifully impenetrable. In every way. She’s not supposed to be here, Loki thought; biting his lip as he extended his hand, one of the guards pouring oil into his palm. “Begin, Prince Loki.” the priestess proclaimed theatrically.

Loki’s gaze fell to the man kneeling in front of him, head bent in dutiful reverence with the golden receptacle outstretched, ready to receive his offering. The platter bearer, Norns; Loki thought. Best seat in the house. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply with his chin tilted upward. The scent of your perfume hung in the air like smoke, tendrils invading Loki’s mind as it began to whirl with lust. So close. You were so close...and you would see him as you had never seen him. As you had been forbidden to see him. Loki smirked, loose grip running up his thick arousal. Sneaking into the Ceremony, against her father’s wishes? What a naughty girl. Long fingers flexed around the base of his girth, giving it a tight squeeze. His lips parted, a low sigh of need escaping under the smallest movement of his hand. His oil slicked palm slid up his member...all the way up, achingly slowly. A gruff ahh caught in his throat as his fingers grasped the sensitive tip, imagining your plump lips sucking brazenly in their place. Loki’s grip tightened; his teeth gritted in concentration as he widened his stance. The marble was cool beneath his bare feet. How many times Loki had envisioned how he would take you upon this sacrosanct floor. The skirts of your dress pushed around your waist as your nails clawed down his back. He would unmake you, devour you, he would free you from every modesty you had ever learned...starting with that beautiful cun- “Fuckkk...uhhh..” Loki moaned, the echo creeping to every corner of the hallowed alcove and beyond. His head fell back further, waves of his hair brushing against the centre of his shoulder-blades as he stroked himself shamelessly under the spell of fantasy. “G-gods...yes.” A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. The Ceremony was usually a silent affair, perhaps a whine or two at completion from its participants but nothing so...enthusiastic. From the level at which they stood, the crowd began to shuffle, craning to catch a better view of a god lost in his own ecstasy. Above the silk panels, his strong torso was visible from the navel, every thrust of his hips against his palm making that powerful stomach clench. The fading light cast shadows across deep abs, spasms of restrained desire making the muscles at his ribs jolt beneath the taut skin. Loki’s face was marble in motion, exquisite cheekbones sharpening and softening with each biting clench of his jaw, panting sluttishly to the muraled dome above. Loki’s mind wandered to the day he had returned from battle, coated in blood of a thousand foes: dead by his hand. You had run to him, concern etched across your brow, before you realised that the blood was not his own. How innocent you were. If only you had known the things that he would do to you. That he would have you do to him.

In his fantasises, he envisioned you pushing him against the balustrade, ravenously thrusting your tongue into his mouth. You would have relished every drop of him mixed with the sweat and filth of war that clung to his skin; consuming the grime as you would the one that wore it. Dirty girl, Loki thought; his stomach flipping with a wave of adrenaline, dangerously close to climax. You would be such a dirty slut for me. And only me. Loki thought of how your fingers would make quick work of the crusted ties holding his leather trousers at the hips. Of your hands slipping down to grasp his furiously hard cock in your delicate grip. His knees would buckle, delicious cleavage pressing against his bloodied armour; red streaks smeared across your cheek as you savagely took his pleasure at any cost. “Uh-uh-uh...Uh hhhh- y-yes...don’t stop...Gods.” Loki grunted wantonly, his face falling forwards with his mouth hanging open. His cock was bursting, flexing outward against the tight clamp of white knuckles. Blood thundered in his ears, a thick haze of feral lust coursing in his veins as he raised his gaze slowly, ceasing his heavy strokes to a crawl. The disciple at his feet raised his head in expectation, bringing the golden platter forward; flinching back down when he realised his mistake. Loki’s eyes locked to yours, watching him with that same concerned expression that you had worn in the hallway the day he returned. Or wait..., Loki thought as he palmed his cock gently upward, a shiver of desire rolling down his spine; Not concern. Need. Your lips were parted, brows knitted in concentration as you shuffled beneath his simmering gaze. Loki’s eyes ran covetously over your frame, your breasts rising and falling against the corset of that pretty dress. They may not know how much you wish to be behind these silk curtains on your knees choking on my cock, darling; Loki smirked to himself, as you let out a staggered breath beneath his smouldering stare. But I do. He let out a low growl, eyes rolling back as a thumb pressed up the centre of his wide manhood. The oil on his hand was hot with friction, slipping around the velvet skin beneath. Loki’s eyes never left yours, tilting his chin upwards again. His hair fell around his cheekbones, a strand sucked across his lips as he began to pant beneath the renewed pace of his palm. He observed you through half-lidded eyes, biting his lip as his ass clenched with every smooth swipe of his hand against that forbidden pleasure he knew you craved. How he wanted you. How he had always wanted you. Loki hoped your father could see the eye-fucking occurring amid this most solemn of Asgardian festivals. An honour: Loki thought with a sly tug of his lips, that even that odious old fucker could not deny, surely. “Oh-oh, f-fuck...yess.” Loki groaned, close to release; syllables dripping from his tongue like double cream. His fist flexed around his length, palming himself mercilessly while thoughts of you ravaging his cock invaded his senses.

The god’s eyebrows slanted upward, his jaw slackening. A murmur of excitement rolled across the crowd, seeing the prince’s shoulders tense and tighten. Biceps bulged as his free hand grasped his naked thigh beneath the silk panel, an audible gasp from the spectators as he threw his head back. The veins in his throat stood out, jawline sharp as Vanaheim steel in the embers of smouldering sunset. The curtain-bearers tenses in position, the manservant serving the golden platter forward as the muscles in Loki’s legs strained against the precipice of orgasm. His eyes squeezed shut. Knowing you were watching him come undone...that would need to be enough. For now. He could feel breaths catching in his throat, panting like a wolf on the hunt. Stars flashed and simmered behind his eyelids, mutters of anticipation rising from the crowd as his dark moans of shameless pleasure reverberated around the marble walls. In his mind, you were lying in his bed. Legs spread to welcome him as he lowered between your open thighs, melting into the curve of your breasts. “Take me, Loki.” you would whisper against his skin, as you guided his aching cock inside your wet, hot cunt. “I’ve been waiting for you.” With a thundering groan that would wake the dead, Loki came. It rang around the alcove, bouncing to every nook and cranny of the great hall beyond. He heard the group of women gasp in unison, their quiet whines peppering the air as he came undone. Glorious, pure white seed spurted across the outstretched golden bowl as Loki juddered. He steadied against the shoulder of one of the stoic curtain-bearers as shallow pants racked his body. Loki squeezed up from the base of his cock, every drop of his essence secured. For none could remain. Slow claps dotted the crowd, growing louder as the spectators showed their appreciation for his dutiful service to the realm. The god's eyes flickered to where you stood; a coy smile pressing against your dimples as you applauded demurely with a mischievous glint in your eye. He swiped the ceremonial robe held out to him, making a show of whirling it around his body, allowing you a final gratuitous look. Loki tightened the cord around his hips, straightening and smoothing his hair back as the curtain-bearers raised their poles to reveal his whole form once more. I’m still hard, Loki thought, realising immediately that he didn’t care. The high-priestess approached, giving a small bow. She smiled, leaning in toward him. “One can always count on Asgard’s second son for some...unorthodoxy.” she whispered. “It is nice to see that a millennia has not changed you, Loki.” She winked, accepting the golden platter and its contents from the kneeling man shuffling on his knees across the floor. Loki rolled his eyes. “Will that be all?” he quipped, pursing his lips. She nodded, the same smile tugging the corner of her mouth. He gave a curt nod to each section of the crowd, lingering a moment longer toward the one where you stood. Loki could swear there was a thin sheen of sweat on your collarbone, that you pressed your lips together to contain a bite as he raised his eyes to yours.

I have been waiting for you, he thought, feeling his heavy cock throb as he began the short walk back through the golden doors from whence he came. Tonight, my forbidden one; we shall wait no more.

Tags

@lokischambermaid @lady-rose-moon @gigglingtigger @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbs @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @mrsbarnes32557038 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @lokiprompts @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @ladylovesloki @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokisgirll @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @peachyymallows @soldeloki @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden

#loki laufeyson x female reader #loki x reader #loki smut #lokismut #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki x reader smut #loki x you smut #loki x yn smut #loki x you #loki x yn #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki oneshot #loki fanfic

[its-not-a-pen]

1460th day as the prime minister of han and you are the enemy general at my mercy. since your absolute loser of a liege lord is MIA you agree to work for me until he returns and in exchange i agree not to raze your city to the ground and put every rebel to the sword. i hope this magnanimous gesture will convince you of my good intentions. 

1461st day as the prime minister of han in order to knock you down a few pegs i try to sabotage your integrity by making you share a room with your loser liege lord's two wives but you just stand outside the door all night with a candle and aren't tempted at all. (i am honestly baffled, as far as i'm concerned other people's wives are utterly irresistible.)

1462nd day as the prime minister of han, my advisor tells me it's easier to catch flies with honey so i begin plying you gifts and pretty serving girls but you keep sending them to your loser liege lord's wives. instead of passing the evening with me engaged in gentlemanly conversation, you spend long hours drying their tears and reassuring them their loser husband is safe. i can't say i'm not annoyed by the snub but your filial piety is commendable

1463rd day as the prime minister of han and even with my considerable intellect, i cannot understand why a man of your skills would chose to serve such an unworthy master. that sanctimonious sandal-weaver has lost nearly every battle he's fought (most of them against me), yet heroes still flock to his cause and peasants aid him at every turn. how does he inspire such loyalty?

1464th day as the prime minister of han, i definitely will not be throwing you an extravagant banquet every day because that's just desperate! i'm only throwing them every fifth day and small ones every third day. do you not like the silk-and-gold robes i've been sending you? you can speak plainly, general, i wont be offended. do they not fit? i must see for myself, please disrobe--

1465th day as the prime minister of han and you finally join me for a drink. i've forgotten how nice this is, in between fighting bandits, quashing rebellions and running 1/3 of a country i've not had much time to myself. the wine loosens your tongue and you talk about brotherhood, sacrifise and sacred oaths in a peach garden, things i've heard about but never seen, like the qilin and other such fantastical beasts but you're so sincere i can't even bring myself to scoff at you. i've lived my entire life looking over my shoulder; better to betray than be betrayed, that's my motto. i've never known anything else.

1466th day as the prime minister of han and i give you a silk bag to protect your long, handsome beard after you made an offhand comment about the whiskers getting brittle in winter. the emperor himself remarked upon it and even though you were humble and self-effacing as always, i preened. it pleases me that you look so well under my patronage, yet your eyes are so troubled. i must not be doing enough, time to consult my advisor again...

1467th day as the prime minister of han i noticed your green battle-coat was threadbare so I fashioned a replacement made of the rarest brocade but you only ever wear it under the old coat loser liege lord gave you because having a piece of him around eases your heart. i don't even have a clever quip for that. although in hindsight i should have expected this turn of events given your utter indifference to that loser's wives and my pretty serving girls. 

1468th day as the prime minister of han, i give you the fastest horse in the world and to my surprise you're elated, bowing and thanking me profusely. then you go and ruin the moment by telling me how grateful you are because it means you will be able to travel quickly to your loser liege lord when you discover his location and now i wish i'd turned that damn beast into glue. this is the first time i've ever seen you smile.

1469th day as the prime minister of han, a verse came to me during our walk through the woods; "the magpie flies south and circles the tree three times. where shall he rest?" i want you to stay. i want you to be mine. lead my armies and help me bring order to the realm, i'll raise you monuments and immortalise your name. alas, the bitter irony is not lost on me, i want you for your loyalty but your loyalty is the reason you cannot stay. if you could have been persuaded i would have lost my respect for you.

1470th day as the prime minister of han and news arrives that your loser liege lord is alive. my advisor tells me that you won't leave until you've repaid my kindness. i guess i better keep you away from the action and hope the next few months are boring and uneventful. in the meantime why don't you try on this new robe! no, i don't mind you undressing here--

1471th day as the prime minister of han and my city is under attack. you single-handedly break the siege and bring me the enemy leader's head. hospitality repaid, you ride off without a backwards glance and i watched the horizon long after you have disappeared.

4391th day as the prime minister of han. I trust you've been well, general, since we last met. I often dreamed that you would return to me, we'd sit under the trees and drink a toast for old times sake. As far as reunions go, the middle of an ambush is not very auspicious. Our roles are reversed, I am the bleeding hart and you are the faithful hound. by rights you should have delivered me straight to your master but instead you let me limp away. why did you do it my beautiful, foolish, loyal general? you know i will only cause you grief. this war will not end as long as i draw breath. this country cannot have three kingdoms any more than a single mountain can have three tigers. 

-epilogue-

last year as the king of wei and i trust you've been well, general, since we last met...

notes under the cut:

It's a truth universally acknowledged that any funny joke on tumblr.com will be run into the ground.

this is a spoof of the 2nd Century Warlord by @romanceyourdemons

1/ Events are based on the historical novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms, supplemented by historical events.

2/ In 196 AD, Warlord Cao Cao moves the capital of China to his territory of Xu City with the Emperor as his puppet. His offical title is the General-in-Chief (大將軍) although I've gone with the more recognisable "Prime Minister". In 200 AD, Cao Cao captured General Guan Yu, who was serving under Liu Bei.

3/Book!Cao Cao is portrayed as a villain and his name is literally synonymous with the devil in Chinese culture. IRL Cao Cao was considered to be a wise and capable ruler. I've decided to bridge the gap a little.

4/ Cao Cao (and sons) were very influential poets, the line "the magpie flies south" is a passage from the Unnamed Magpie Poem, after consolidating power, Cao Cao encourages all the best and brightest in his kingdom to flock to his court.

5/ "I dreamt of you, general" monologue taken verbatim from the 2010 tv show. People in the han dynasty were battling demons and that demon is bisexuality.

6/ Book!Cao Cao does not actually think Liu Bei is a loser, he considers him to be "one of the only two heroes in the world". but my god, you can pry that alliteration out of my cold, dead hands.

#chinese history #ancient china #romance of the three kingdoms #san guo yan yi #history meme #cao cao #liu bei #guan yu #second century warlord adjacent i guess #i realise it's an incredibly bold move to spoof a popular post when the op is literally ur mutual #do you like stories that are 7/10 history and 3/10 conjecture and 10/10 batshit crazy? read romance of the three kingdoms! #the moss translation none of the other ones

[thewriterg]

𝐈𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

pairing(s); earth 42!miles morales × afab!reader, civilian! miles morales × spidey!reader

summary; Miles was a really sacred thing in your life which is why you hadn't told him about your other... acquaintance with a spider suit and web slingers so the gut wrenching feeling when you couldn't save him tore your world apart, until he's there to comfort you.

word count; 1.5k+

request; Hello, I hope everything is going well with you. I'd want to request 42 earth miles × reader, in which the reader is having an awful nightmare while sleeping in miles' bed, and they are sobbing and basically having a horrible nightmare, and miles is there to console them, wake them up, and make them feel better.

warning(s); Hurt/Comfort, mention of canon events, tears, mention of blood and violence, character death, miles isn't the prowler here, pet names, rusty Spanish, and language

A/n; —GIFs; @kombuuuu & @lekeyeh24– so we have a lot to talk about 🧍🏽

Dust, ruble, and debris is all over the Brooklyn bridge a centerpiece of the road absent causing a g a p leaving people stuck on either side but one side was worse than the other as you swung the last group of people that you had struggled saving off a falling bus on the safer side of the bridge screams and sound of people scurrying away doesn’t over power the ringing in your ears

You swing over the bridge with only your right hand your left web shooter being damaged while you clutch your side a deep graze causing blood to slowly seep out of the wound that had also cut through your not only skin abs tissue but your suit

Even though everything was ‘cleared’ as you circled the bridge for the fifth time your spider senses still tingled directing you to the same pile of ruble until you finally swung down next to it circling it at a distance slowly until you stopped abruptly a toffee colored hand staring back at you but what stuck out the most was the bracelet on it

The bracelet you had woven your boyfriend as one of his gifts for his birthday,

It took you too long to finally approach the pile your breath hitched in your throat maybe someone had woven the same pattern and used the same shades of purple you had maybe just maybe

You quickly pushed away the broken bits and chunks of concrete a small hiss dying in your throat as your wounds on your side protested your arms moving and stretching as harshly as they did finally enough of the fallen concrete was out of the way and you world stopped

You couldn’t breathe

Your ears rang

And your head spun

You dropped to your knees next to Miles a cry resting on your lips drowned out by the bustling streets of New York dragging his limp body into your arms his head pressed in your shoulder as you shook his after frame flinging off your mask with no regard for it

“Miles come on, get up please. Please get up baby, your my baby and I need you to get up okay?” You sniffled rambling to no active ears but your own as you gently laid him down on the cold concrete pressing down on his chest repeatedly trying, begging for that 100 to 120 rate the sickening crack of now broken ribs taking you out of your trance your breath caught in your throat

His usual neat twin braids were now shriveled and carried dust and debris from the rubble, The usual ironed clean clothes were now wrinkled and dirty with various cuts through them, and his usual smooth skin was jagged and bruised along with a cut seeping blood on his forehead and what stood out the most was his lifeless eyes staring back at you those beautiful eyes different shades of brown that you always adored held no life to them

“I swear I was going to tell you today” How were you going to tell Rio someone who represented a mother to you that her son found her husband in a place far from here? How were you going to sit through classes each day with an empty desk next to you, a reminder that nothing would fill the space? How were you going to hold the city up when you couldn’t even stand?

“I’m sorry I— I’m sorry I couldn’t save you Miles” You sobbed silently leaning down to press a delicate kiss on his forehead rocking you both back and forth your shoulders raking before a scream overcame your being your couldn’t shake the feeling of your chest tightening, your throat closing, and constant tears running down the scheduled tracks of previous ones your voices broken and hoarse when you whispered

“I just need five more minutes, please just five minutes”

💌💌💌💌

“Come on y/n, wake up mi vida” Miles shook you gently with an underlying firmness behind his movements as you sniffled and whimpered in your sleep his voice a bit rougher from his own unconscious state until your eye’s finally blinked open when your gaze fell on him you immediately through yourself onto him your arms wrapped around his neck tightly as you sniffled into his shoulder the tears seeping through his shirt

“Cálmate mami, I’m right here” The sleep slipped from his voice while he wrapped his arms around your waist as your breathing stuttered and slowed in your throat which caused him to shift taking your arms and pushing you back into his line of sight

“Come on breathe, uh uh come on” His hand was on your chin when your eyes were darted around to anything but him he took your palm resting it on his chest taking big deep breaths so you could feel the prominent of his heart beat which causes a snowball effect for you to follow your breathing not totally normal yet you got more air to your lungs so he would take it

Miles brought you back to your chest lying his chin against your forehead after pressing a chaste kiss to it the sound of your continuous sniffles and his the whispers of his sweet nothings

“I wish you would tell me what’s going on with you” He muttered into your hairline he hated that things like this kept happening and you wouldn’t tell him the exact reason why just feeding him pieces of crust to keep him quiet at the time

When you guys were in your beginning years of high school yeah you would run a little late here and there or he would have to cover for you when you left in the middle of class he still does or when you needed him to stitch a concerning gash on your side tilted to your back that you couldn’t quite reach or when he’s caught you wincing when you had to reach for something farther than eye level

He however sighed when you kept muttering things like

“I’m sorry Miles”

“I’ll do better next time”

“i promise I’ll save you”

With one final breath he flipped the two of you over you now below him while he lied his head on your chest grounding you with the pressure with the occasional jerk you body gave trying to regulate your breathing

“If I tell you something… you can’t look at me differently okay?” Miles looked up at you your first coherent sentence since you’d woken up you didn’t look at him opting for the ceiling with that numb look in your eyes he hated

“Talk to me princesa” His hand inched closer to yours his thumb brushing over your knuckles your breath hitched in your throat discarding the thought of introducing your second identity for the sake of your own selfish pleasure as you sat up causing him to do the same with a concerned look on his face as you got off his bed searching for something

“We have to break up, I can’t do this anymore” You said pulling on your shoes your senses overloaded buzzing even though there was no danger the definition of overstimulation

“¿Y/n De qué estás hablando? You’re not thinkin’ right just sit down and talk to me” Miles demanded blocking your exit to the window an alert window on his face as you breathed heavily the room was too stuffy and you couldn’t breathe

“Miles, get out of my way” you muttered

“No not until you talk to me, Y/n you can’t keep doing this shit man” He stressed a palm covering his forehead massaging at his temples

“Okay then I won’t” You started your eyes holding no life as images of him dead in you arm flashed through your mind something that would never go away you then started thinking about Miguel you hated him and the paranormal thoughts he put in you mind about “canon events” and you hated how right he was

“Being around you makes my head spin in the worst, overstimulating, way possible” You stared at him nothingness in your eyes as you lied through your teeth

What did he do wrong? Was he too overbearing? Maybe he shouldn’t have pestered you about your secrecy, but he just cares about you

“I can’t stand this, I can’t stand it, and I can’t stand you” You muttered swallowing the lump that formed in your throat keeping your voice steady

The fear that your love for him was dying rumbled in his chest as he stiffly stood never breaking eye contact

“I don’t love you anymore Miles” That was the last lie that slipped from your lips falling to the floor like a feather with the others

This was it, he wasn’t enough, you hated him, your love for him was dead.

Miles didn’t feel you slip past him, he didn’t hear his window shut, he didn’t hear you jumping from the fire escape with a ‘thwip’ of your webs, he just heard the repeating of you words ringing through his mind as he stared at them on the floor grouped together wispy and light looking like feathers even though they were dark and heavy like bricks

“I won’t”

“I can’t stand you”

“you make my head spin”

“I don’t love you anymore”

💌💌💌💌

Hey… hey, how y’all doing 🤧

Okay so basically I got shadowbanned on tumblr for like three ish weeks my fics weren’t popping up in tags I put them under when you searched my name it wouldn’t come up it was just a whole ordeal

But with back and forth emails, countless mental breakdowns we’re back now‼️

Also please stop writing our baby as a thug all the time 😭

he has feelings let him be a cry baby every once and a while

#miles molares #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #atsv x reader #spiderman astv #romance #fem!reader #angst #fluff #i love you #thewriterg #2023

[mrskokushibo]

Lead us not into temptation

Kokushibo x Nun!reader

I NSFW I 18+ I MDNI I

A/N: Another highly anticipated request from Anon: Link here.

Plot: A young nun struggles with her carnal desires and in the midst of that gets corrupted by a hot demon. To us, who indulge in sin, let us hope we will all need an exorcist by the end of this smut : ) : )

Warnings: SMUT. Oral. Masturbation. Vaginal penetration. Dirty talk. Creampie. Fingering. Wet dreams. Mild Dom!Kokushibo. Dirty thoughts. AU. Slightly sacrilegious-but hey, this is only fiction.

Word count: 3502

Masterlist

…And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and, the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen. (Matthew 6:11-13; King James Version (KJV) of the Bible).

This was the fifth consecutive night that you were kneeling alone at night in the convent’s empty chapel, saying the Lord’s Prayer repeatedly. Your thoughts were, to say the least, impure, and this was the penance that the friendly old priest administered you in the daily confession. With autumn at the threshold and the harvest over and done with, there was much less physical work for the nuns. Autumn and winter were the time for prayer and withdrawal. A time to give the tired physical body rest after the intense labour of spring and summer. The convent’s gardens and orchard were breaming with fruit and vegetables, the bee hives full of honey and the poultry barns overrun with chickens, geese, and ducks. Everything was now harvested, prepared, and stored for winter. Enough food to provide for both the convent’s needs as well as to help the impoverished families in the nearby settlement.

But your body was as fertile and ripe as the gardens in summer and rest was not what it seemed to crave… You often wondered what would it be like to belong to a man. Your family could not afford the dowry and there were only two choices for you: the brothel or the convent. When the latter was chosen, you knew you would never experience a man’s love. The former option, however, would have only given you a corrupted and twisted mockery of such love.

When you first stepped over the worn-out stone threshold of the large, grey medieval building, you felt apprehensive, to say the least. One look at the large crucifix, the only thing adorning the spacious vestibule, and the worry of a lonely and cold life were gripping you as tight as a vice. With time, you learned how wrong you were about life here. The nuns were warm and kind and since this was not one of the strictest orders, you were allowed to venture out to the village bringing food and medical aid to the inhabitants, who in turn treated you all as if you were angels. This was not a bad life. You enjoyed the gardens and your favourite chore was tending to the animals.

At last, you finished your fiftieth Lord’s Prayer and slowly stood up, straightening your black nun’s habit, and readied yourself to walk back to your cell. The shortest way was to walk through the glorious sacred garden in the courtyard adjacent to the chapel. The cells were situated in the cloister, the open gallery walk that wrapped around the courtyard. The garden was magnificent in autumn, with leaves turning all shades of fire and sun.

As you stepped on the gravel pathway, you stopped in your tracks. There, in the corner near the large acacia was a tall figure, judging by the broad shoulders, a male. You realised this could have not been any of the priests as they did not stay at the convent at night, but also, none of them was this tall… Apprehensive at first, you cautiously decided to approach him, your natural curiosity was always stronger than fear. As you were getting close, suddenly three pairs of eyes stared at you. They were red with golden pupils. Was this a dream? Who was this?

‘Who are yo…?’ you spoke with a slightly hitched voice, but before you managed to finish your sentence, he was gone.

You stood for a while as petrified but then hurried to your cell. It was a sparse room, big enough for a simple bed, a closet for your habits, and any other garments you needed. There was also a desk, a chair, and several candlelights, which you requested especially since you were an avid reader and writer and the convent’s library had a wealth of approved literature.

After finishing your bedtime routine and saying your prayers, you crawled into bed, the last thought occupying your mind being the strange sight you encountered in the garden.

Without the candles being lit, your room was pitch black. You could barely make out the contours of your furniture. Suddenly, you heard a quiet rustle next to the foot of your bed…and then six burning eyes appeared out of the dark. A large hand started caressing your thigh and moving up toward your groin, a sudden light kiss on your lips, and a hand stroking your cheek and neck. You almost flew up, but the same strong, large hand pinned you down in place.

‘Shhhh, someone will hear you.’

A deep, masculine voice came from the direction of the eyes. You were speechless, this was surely a dream and well…you were curious as to what would happen next… A hand was now massaging you between your legs, not moving in under the cloth of your undergarment yet, but this was enough for your juices to slowly overflow. You moaned quietly and this was encouragement enough for the male to slide his fingers under the cloth. As he was spreading your slick-covered folds, your pleasure was slowly taking over you. He was rubbing you up and down between your labia, not even yet touching your clitoris, a long finger slowly tracing circles around your opening and another prying its way inside you…

You touched yourself so many times before, but this was so entirely different. The anticipation of where his touch was to land next was the difference between a deliberate move of your own fingers. This was indescribable. You were trying not to moan too loud, but staying quiet was not an easy feat. When his touch finally reached your erect little bud, you were close to bursting. It did not take him long to push you to your orgasm and as you climaxed you released your juices all over his hand. The next moment you woke up, still riding out your orgasm. You were completely soaked between your legs from all the cum you squirted out. Sunlight was peering into the room through the narrow window, it was most obviously morning. You were in bliss, but also shaking your head at the dream that left you in this state. Because… this surely must have been a dream… This would be an interesting confession…

‘Father, forgive me for I have sinned.’

The old, kind priest sighed as you uttered the routine phrase.

‘Is it the same… as usual, dear child?’

‘Yes, father, but this time it felt like someone … did things to me. I was not touching myself at all. Well, it was a dream, actually. But it evoked an indecent response from me… The thing that did trouble me, was that even though that someone was human, at the same time, he did not seem to be. He had six eyes and had a demonic aura about him.’

The priest sighed again and shook his head.

‘Look, dear child, what you are experiencing is normal for someone young. Believe me, we all had such thoughts in our youth. Just try and work on changing the focus of them. As for the form of your assailant, well, do not dwell on that too much. I am sure it is not possession or anything unholy like that. The human brain is blessed with the capacity to imagine, so do not dwell.’

He paused and smiled a little to himself.

‘You know, you are a good kid, the villagers adore you for your kindness and help. I am sure the Lord will overlook your recent troubles with yourself.’

With that, he drew the sign of the cross in the air in front of him and said the prayer of absolution:

‘(…) I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.’

The week that followed was a blur. For every day that went, your focus on daily chores and routines was diminishing as the wet dreams were increasing in length and intensity. Your thoughts were preoccupied with…him. The six eyes were etched in your mind like an unholy vision. Every night spent in the chapel on your penance prayers was wearing you out and making you more and more susceptible to daydreaming of being ravaged by the male. You were imagining what he looked like, what his manhood would feel inside you…Every time you were dismissing these thoughts in a futile attempt to regain some sanity, they were hitting you twice as hard as soon as you lost your slightest focus. It was all a dream you were telling yourself…

It was a particularly dark night when you ventured back into the empty chapel after the Sunday evening mass. A part of the penance was to tidy up and blow out the candles, leaving you with only a couple lit at the altar near the main nave, where you usually knelt to say your prayers. At this point, you started to feel like maybe an exorcist would be your best option.

Your obsession with carnal pleasure and that demon or whoever that was that invaded your thoughts, was becoming unbearable. No matter how many wet dreams, how much you touched yourself, and how much you repented and tried to push these thoughts away, your senses seemed to not even come close to being satiated. You knelt in resignation, the burning sensation between your thighs as intense as ever, wetness pooling between your legs at the only thought that was occupying your mind.

‘… and lead us not into temptation…’

but the temptation was only getting stronger. At that moment, you sensed a presence behind you. The already dark, somber space suddenly grew darker. You turned around only to see the six ferocious eyes staring down at you. But this time you finally got a chance to see their owner. You gasped at the sight. The demonic eyes and strange red marks on his face and neck aside, he had a fully human form. A tall, solid-built male with a huge mane of thick red-black hair. He wore an outfit whose origin you did not recognise, but it did do his figure justice. Apparently, he was a warrior of some kind as there was a foreign-looking sword at his side.

‘Greetings, holy woman’ his polite words were laced with scorn.

‘Greetings’ you managed to stammer in reply.

He was foreign-looking, how could he speak your language? He could apparently read your thoughts as he indulged your curiosity:

‘I am an ancient demon and human language is a mere trifle to me.’

A demon, so your fears were confirmed… How did this happen? Did you somehow manage to summon him?

‘You did not summon me, you foolish girl. I roam this earth and when I stumble upon something that appeals to me, I merely claim it as mine.’

His self-indulgent speech was making you nervous, but also weak at the knees from anticipation.

‘The dreams when I touched you were not dreams at all, I was there with you, and I already savoured your sweet juices. I could have ravaged you many times over, but you humans are a special kind. Playing hard-to-get and pretending to be pious and oh so holy. But deep inside of you all dwells a beast so ferocious that it makes us demons seem like angels at times. But now, it is time you give in to me and to the beast inside you. I will fuck you right here, for your Lord to see. And he will watch while you begin to serve a new Master.’

His deep, melodic voice was sending shivers down your spine. It resounded perfectly in the solemn space of the empty chapel. His lewd words gave this medieval temple more justice than any sermon you ever heard…

You stood up in the last and futile act of defiance, but in that instant, you were pushed by the large male toward the nearest wall. His large frame dominated you and pressed you into the hard stone of the wall behind you, making you almost breathless.

‘Look at you, so beautiful and innocent. A flower ready for picking’ he was talking in a hushed, slow tone.

‘I bet you will not be as innocent once I show you what real pleasure feels like.’

His handsome face was now adorned by a smile, a vicious one at that, as the thought of corrupting this holy servant of a God so many worshipped, was making him crazy with lust. It was his work as a demon, to kill, enslave, turn people into demons, and corrupt women into the deepest abyss of carnal yearning. He enjoyed this, the power of it, as centuries went by and his strength grew, so did his desire for more conquers.

His hands were slowly starting to take possession of your body, gently, but deliberately caressing your face, neck, bottom, and breasts. He lowered his head and kissed your lips with the lightness of a falling rose petal. He kept on kissing like this down your neck and then back up to your lips again. This time the kiss claimed more of your lips and his tongue slowly snaked its way into your mouth.

Your mouth welcomed him greedily and soon you were intertwined in a passionate kiss. He held your head in his large hands while kissing you and when he let go, he helped you remove your clothes and went down on his knees before you. He cupped one of your breasts with one large hand and started spreading your swollen, slick-covered folds with the long, calloused fingers of the other. You were now so familiar with this from all the wet dreams, that were not dreams at all. The coil in your belly was tightening slowly and you were starting to edge when he moved to rubbing circles around and on your blood-filled clitoris.

He then leaned into your sex, blowing soft kisses on the outside of your pussy. His tongue started darting over your clit, flicking it lightly, eliciting even more moans from you. The warmth in your belly was turning into burning heat. You felt like soon you would be losing all control over yourself but before that happened, there was something you wanted to know. Without asking him directly about his identity you posed a more indirect question.

‘Don’t you want to know my name?’ you moaned.

‘I already do, y/n. And my name is Kokushibo, remember it well, because after tonight it will be the only name you will need to repeat in your prayers.’

With that, he stood up again and you automatically wrapped your legs around his strong hips. He was now carrying you in the direction of the altar and soon enough, you were shamelessly splayed on top of it. Not lifting his burning gaze from your naked form, he started removing his own clothes, leaving you to admire what was slowly being unveiled to your vision.

If it wasn’t for the scars that covered his entire torso and arms, he might just as well have been a statue that came to life. His body was as if carved of stone, with skin deliciously stretched over the defined muscles. As he removed the last clothes covering his body, a black, skirt-like garment tied with ridiculously long belts, you could now admire his manhood in its full glory. It was already erect, huge, straight, and veiny with a bright red tip.

At this point there was not a clear thought in your head, your lust fogging up whatever reason and decency that was left. All you wanted was him inside you. The tingling in your belly was increasing as if a swarm of butterflies was attempting to find a way out of your insides. Your craving was that of a beast, your inner muscles spasming and clenching on air, slick pooling out of your cunt, all in expectation of him finally granting you the fullness you so much lusted for.

And you did not have to wait very long because as if in response to your body’s call, he grabbed you by the hips and slid you closer to his rough ones. His cock was now perfectly aligned with your entrance and he slowly started pushing into your clenching walls. The sensation of being filled up like this was making you delirious with pleasure. Every inch he gained was adding more and more to your already peaking arousal. At last, he bottomed out, but before starting to move, he stretched out his arm and grabbed your chin with his large hand, tilting your head so that you could look at the crucifix above the altar. His lips were contorted in a frown, he was baring his fangs.

‘He is looking at you. And now, I want you to tell him who is your new Master. Say it.’

With that, he started slowly thrusting into you. You were moaning, but his grip on your chin did not lessen.

‘Say it!’

‘Lord Kokushibo is my new Master, my only Lord.’

You moaned out, your breath getting heavy. Satisfied, he let go and increased the force and pace of his thrusts. It was as if time has stopped and there was only now, you and him, in this sacred space, performing this unholy sacrament. Your juices mixed, your bodies intertwined. Every spot inside you was stimulated, you could feel the veiny texture of his dick rubbing back and forth on your plush and swollen walls. If this was a sin then you for sure belonged in hell. Because this was something you no longer could live without. And when your body finally reached the limits of what it could take before being plunged over the edge and into the eruption of your orgasm, you knew that this demon would be your bane. You were indeed possessed.

As you were riding out your climax, he kept on pumping into you with unchanged force. It was now his turn to grant himself a release. He pulled you closer to him, changing the angle slightly, so that his rough hips were even closer to you. The sound of flesh smacking flesh, the wet squelching of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy, and your lewd moans echoed through the sacred building. His eyes were closed and his head thrown back, a glorious fallen angel with a halo of black hair with red tips that in the dim light of candles made it look as if he was emerging out of the fires of hell. His thrusts were not losing any of their strength or speed as you started to feel another orgasm approaching.

‘Kokushibo, my Lord, I am…. going… to come again’ you managed to moan out in your hazy state.

He opened his eyes and looked straight at you with a dark, lust-filled gaze.

‘Then I want you to say my name when you do and tell your old God who your new one is.’

He said with a vicious smirk while increasing the pace and strength of his actions. Every thrust was sending you closer to your climax and when it was time for you to come again, you moaned out loudly

‘My Lord Kokushibo… you are… the only God… for me now’

And with that you climaxed and your consciousness started to blur.

He leaned over you now, small droplets of sweat running down his chest, making his skin glisten in the dull, warm light. His breath was very heavy and his thrusts were getting sloppy. ‘I am close now’ he hissed through gritted teeth ‘I will fill you up with my demon seed and from now on you will forever be parched for it.’ With a final powerful thrust, he climaxed and emptied himself inside you, riding out his high with a few slower thrusts at the end. You were so overfilled, that his semen was pouring out of you around his cock and onto the altar. This was sacrilege, a sin beyond repentance. Yet, you knew, that this was just the beginning of your journey to hell and that you would not allow anyone to exorcise this demon out of your life.

You were still lying flat on top of the altar, breathless and blissed out, looking up at the crucifix and then at your demon lover’s face, when he finally pulled out, resulting in the remaining semen flowing out of you shamelessly onto the sacred stone. He smiled at the sight and lifted you up toward his chest, landing one last deep, hard kiss on your lips. He moved the hair out of your face and caressed your back, you reciprocating the action, barely able to reach around his large torso.

‘Will you be back?’ you asked in a weak voice.

‘If you pray to me, I will.’

Image downloaded from Pxfuel.com

Banner by @cafekitsune

Divider by @saradika

Tags 💕: @muzanswaifu @muzansfangs @doumadono @paintoreos @fuckkyourlife @abandonedhhearts @tired-writer04 @koku-shibou and @kokusfluffyhair @koyuki-the-flower

#demon slayer #smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #kny x reader #kokushibo #kimetsu no yaiba x you #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo smut #demon slayer kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #kny kokushibo #kokushibou #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x female reader #kny x you #kny au #kny x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba kokushibo #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny imagines #demon slayer imagine #kny fandom #demon slayer fanfic #anime fanfic #michikatsu tsugikuni

[talonabraxas]

Unlocking the Profound Spiritual Meaning of Akasha: A Journey into Transcendence The spiritual meaning of Akasha is deeply rooted in ancient Eastern philosophies and mystical traditions. Akasha, also known as the “Fifth Element,” is believed to be the subtle spiritual essence that permeates all things and connects everything in the universe. Akasha: The Essence of All Existence Akasha is derived from the Sanskrit word meaning “sky” or “ether.” It represents the infinite and boundless space that encompasses every dimension and reality. In spiritual terms, Akasha is seen as the primordial energy from which all creation emerges and to which all beings return. Akasha serves as the cosmic repository of collective consciousness, storing the memories, experiences, and knowledge of every soul that has ever existed. It is the eternal record keeper of the universe. The Sacred Connection to Akasha Developing a sacred connection to Akasha involves acknowledging its divine presence in all aspects of life. By honoring the interconnectedness of all beings and recognizing the inherent divinity within ourselves and others, we can cultivate a deep sense of unity and harmony. Akasha reminds us that we are co-creators of our reality and encourages us to manifest our true desires and intentions. By aligning with the essence of Akasha, we can tap into our innate creativity and use it to bring positive change to ourselves and the world. Embracing the spiritual meaning of Akasha allows us to live in alignment with our higher purpose, fostering love, peace, and harmony within and around us. In conclusion, the spiritual meaning of Akasha transcends mere earthly existence. It opens a gateway to the eternal cosmic realm, reminding us of our interconnectedness and providing us with profound wisdom, healing, and guidance along our spiritual journey. Akasha by Talon Abraxas

[everlastingmooncoven]

Lesson #1: Introduction to Magic

Witchcraft vs. Wicca vs. Paganism:

Paganism is a religion as well as an umbrella term to describe different religions. In the past, it was seen as anyone who wasn’t a Christian. Currently, a lot of practices and religions fall under the category of Pagan. No witchcraft or certain practices are required to be Pagan. Most Pagans do believe in the circles of life and death, with a strong connection to nature.

Wicca is a religion that usually involves witchcraft but not always. It was founded in 1954 by Gerald Garner and involves documents and beliefs such as the Wiccan Rede and the Harm None laws. The Wiccan religion falls under Paganism.

Witchcraft is a practice, not a religion. It can be used inside and outside of religious practices. There are many branches of The Craft, including Green Witchcraft and Cosmic Witchcraft.

Different Paths:

Not all Alchemists are witches, but Alchemy can be paired with the Craft.

Angelic Witches work closely with Angels in their practice.

A Celtic Witch would be a witch who follows the traditions and rituals of the Celtic religion. They may work with or worship Celtic deities and read Celtic myths, legends, and history. This could also include working with the fae, but it’s not required.

In a Ceremonial Witch's practice, it’s all focused on the sacred ceremonies and rituals of witchcraft. It’s more intricate than everyday magic.

Cosmic/Celestial Witches are the astrologers. Focused on the moon, sun, star, and planet cycles, zodiac signs and birth charts are their specialty. They use the energies from the cycles of the universe to fuel their spell work. Lunar Witches and Solar Witches would fall in this category, as their focus is mostly towards the phases of the moon or the sun.

Coven Witches are a part of a coven, this would include a high priest, or priestess along with members of a coven. They bring their powers together to cast spells and do rituals together.

Crystal Witches are all about the use of crystals and gems. Creating crystal grids, understanding the power of their properties, and using that power to manifest or attract the energies that the witch is trying to bring in their craft.

When it comes to Eclectic Witches they are a hit or miss. They mix and match their own practice from other religions or branches of witchcraft. That can be a good thing and a bad thing. You can make your practice your own and not be tied down to one thing. However, if you are taking from closed practices or taking from spaces where you aren’t welcomed then that is never okay. No matter what branch you practice.

A Death Witch is someone who works with the dead, or practices necromancy. This can also include helping them cross to the other side, honoring the dead in rituals, or helping people through periods of mourning their loved ones. Death deities such as Hel (Norse Goddess of Death) or Hades (Greek King of the Underworld) may be some deities a death witch might be interested in working with.

Demonologists are people who study, work with, or worship Demons and include them into their Craft.

Divination Witches are usually your psychics. They work with tools such as tarot or oracle cards, palm readings, pendulums, runes, etc. They can show the future or receive messages from the other side or from your guides.

Draconian Witches are people who work with Dragons. It is a very intricate path that isn’t made for everyone. You may approach dragons, but when it comes time dragons may or may not choose you.

Elemental Witches use the power of the elements in their practices. Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and sometimes the fifth element known as the Spirit or Either. Through bonding with the elements, she’s able to call on them in her practice. This could also be broken down by Fire Witches, who connect mostly with Fire elements. Water Witches also could fall under Sea Witchcraft. Air Witches could include playing instruments, listening to music, or singing in their practice. And Earth Witches could be classified as a Green or Plant Witch.

Fae Witches are those who work with the Fae in their craft. This is usually paired with the Celtic pantheon, but not always.

A Folk Witch can be hereditary, but not always. They include practices that are either passed down from family members, or their community. They use their ethnicities and the origins of their ancestors in their practices. Sometimes they can be closed practices, sometimes they are just not shared with people outside of those communities.

Gray Witches practice both the left-hand path (black magic) of the right-hand path (white magic). What kind of magic they practice depends on the situation.

Green Witches are all about nature, they use herbology, healing, gardening, and plant magic in witchcraft. They prefer to be outside and in nature, especially when doing their craft. Plant Witches are in a subcategory of Green Witchcraft whose main focus is plants.

Both Hearth Witches and House/Cottage Witches overlap when it comes to how they practice. They are both focused on making their home peaceful and full of magic. This can include candle magic, kitchen witchery, house rituals, etc.

A Hedge Witch is similar to an eclectic witch. But hedge witches are more focused on herbology, elements, astral protection, auras, and nature.

A Hellenic Witch is someone who works with or worships the ancient Greek or Roman deities. They perform rites and give offerings that were presented to the deities long ago.

Hereditary Witches are people whose family practices witchcraft. Power or certain practices are passed through their family line.

Kitchen Witches incorporate magic into their food or drink. They understand the properties that certain foods or herbs have and are able to pair them together to create a delicious, magical-filled dish or drink.

Sea Witches have a strong connection to the ocean. They can incorporate water, seashells, sand, and moon phases in their practices. Any body of water will do, you don’t have to live near any ocean to do sea magic. Lakes, rivers, or any natural body of water will do. They can also work with water spirits, such as mermaids.

Sex Witches use sexual acts and sexual energy to enhance their rituals. This can be done alone or with consenting partners.

A Solitary Witch practices alone or without a coven. They can be any type of Witch.

A Traditional Witch can be a hereditary, a folk, or a ceremonial witch. Any kind of practice that follows a long-standing tradition.

Wiccan Witch follows the Wiccan Rede and the Harm None laws, within their practice. They can include almost any other branch of witchcraft as well. They worship a God and Goddess as the masculine and feminine energies, and love and respect nature.

These are just a handful of witches that are out there, I know I missed many of them. Feel free to mix and match titles or have no title at all. It’s whatever you are most comfortable with and what you have a connection to the most.

Altars:

Altars are prominent in most religions; they are concentrated, personal, and sacred spaces meant for worship, spell castings, honoring ancestors, celebrating holidays and more. They can be simple and hidden, large and extravagant or anything in between. It should be created to please you and no one else.

The arrangement of tools on the altar can vary to each person, there is a basic outline, but you’re not required to follow it. When picking out the tools and decorations make sure you don’t choose random items that might clutter your altar. No matter how big or small your space is, you don’t want a messy place to work in; so make sure everything has a meaning or purpose.

Altars can also come in any aesthetic that you enjoy; some choose a very traditional altar, while others love a modern take on things. They can also be based around an element, deity, crystal, or even your favorite color.

There are so many ways you can present your altar, but as long as you make it your own precious space then the sky's the limit!

Witchcraft Tools:

A Book of Shadows, Grimoire, or another Spell Book can be anything you wish it to be, from a simple notebook, a file on your computer, or a fancy leather-bound book. No matter what it is, always keep it nearby when you are casting; you never know when you might need to jot something down or need a reference.

A Pentagram or Pentacle can be sat in the center of an altar, or worn on a necklace. It represents the five elements and can be used for protection.

Divination Tools would also be kept on your altar or nearby if you are doing spellwork. Whether it be tarot or oracle cards, pendulums, runes, tea leaves, or a crystal ball.

Photos or Statues are great ways to honor your ancestors and loved ones who have passed on (including pets!). You can add photos, notes, and other offerings on your altar as a way to honor them and call upon them. You can also add photos and statues of your guides or deities to dedicate a space to them.

Athames are beautifully crafted knives meant for spell casting or energy channeling only. They are usually not meant for cooking or other purposes.

Wands are created for energy channeling and circle casting, they can be made out of wood, crystal, metal, or glass. You can also craft your own and add crystals, charms, or other decorations to personalize it.

Candles can be used for multiple things. It can represent the element of fire and air, can represent a space for deities or ancestors, or for simple color magic. It’s good to have multiple colors and sizes, but white is usually a good substitute. You could also use birthday candles for spells that have to melt all the way down but you don’t want to wait or leave a burning candle unattended.

For the Earth Element anything that comes from the Earth naturally such as dirt, sand, flowers, leaves, certain herbs, sticks, crystals, rocks, etc can be used to represent the Earth element and be used in many ways.

Cauldrons or other heatproof bowls would be needed for making potions, burning herbs, casting spells, or scrying.

A Chalice could represent the Moon Goddess and the element of water; a chalice can hold water, wine, or other offerings. It can also be used for fertility rituals and spells.

Feathers represent the elements of air, they can be nice offerings for certain spirits, guides, or deities or be used for waving away negative energies.

Bells can represent the air element and are known for cleansing a space of negative energies to leave a peaceful feeling environment.

Each Herb, Plant, or Flower has different properties, each being unique and special. With that being said, some ingredients can be very dangerous and harmful to handle if you are unfamiliar with them; so always proceed with caution when using unknown herbs. And make sure to keep poisonous ones away from your furry or scaly friends and curious children!

Incense not only smells lovely, but they represent the elements of air and fire. They are wonderful for cleansing and each scent has its own special property.

Waters from ocean, lake, rain, storm, tap, or even bottled water can represent the water element; each can be used in a different way in a spell. But also can be used for cleansing yourself or your tools.

Poppets are very powerful tools that can be used for causing harm to enemies, initiating protection around a household, or casting a blessing on those closest to you.

Crystals are helpful for healing, protection, peace, and many other things. They are gorgeous pieces for offerings, or to just keep on your altar or in your car.

Pouches, Boxes, and Jars are a very simple way to hold any spell that you create, usually kept with the person it was made for, buried in the ground, on your altar. It can contain anything from blessings to curses.

Book of Shadows:

1. Create your own spellbooks:

Decide if you are going to have a physical book or binder or if you want a digital book, which could be left online or if you are going to print it out. Figure out the style, do you want traditional, cute, full of stickers, dried herbs or plants included, add artwork. Make it your own. You don’t have to call your spellbook the typical names, you can name your book anything you want. If you work with Spirits, Book of the Dead. If you work with the water element, Storm Book or Way of the Waters. Or sometimes more traditional like The Book of Ways. You can be creative when naming your Grimoire if you want. You can also have more than one spellbook for different tasks or information.

2. Layouts:

The layout of your book is unique to you. Personally, I tend to group similar things together. But here are things you can add to your book.

Some type of index to keep your book organized. You could also include a glossary of common-use terms or phrases.

A book blessing, protection sigils, and/or book dedications.

Your personal correspondences such as astrology charts, what type of path you practice, coven meetings (if you’re involved in one), information about the deities or guides you work with, and favorite divination methods. You could also add your favorite crystals, colors, herbs, flowers, etc.

Basic information about magic. Tools used in your craft, how to make sigils, cleansing, protection, correspondences about crystals, herbs, incense, aromatherapy, etc.

Animal correspondences, what it means when you see certain animals. This could also include familiar work, or any animal guides you work with.

Moon, sun, and planet phases. This can also include constellations, zodiac signs, birth charts, and how to read them.

The Wheel of the Year, any holidays or sabbats that you celebrate and how to celebrate them. This could also include days of the week correspondences and time correspondences.

You can add recipes that you make for offerings or holidays or even have a spellbook be a cookbook instead if you are a kitchen witch or just love cooking.

Any rituals or spells that you perform, what it is, when you cast them, the herbs or crystals you use, what the moon or sun phase was, the phrases you said, what the results were, and if you would change anything.

Divination tools that you use, the meaning behind tarot cards or runes, etc. And you can keep a journal track of when you do any kind of divination, the questions you asked and the answers you received.

History of magic, the path you practice, the deities or guides you work with. Folklore or myths from certain areas that you are interested in.

Lists of deities or guides from the pantheon(s) or groups that you’re involved in.

Different psychic abilities and keeping track of your meditation progress, dreams, affirmations, yoga, and any other energy workings that you do.

Any mythical beings (mermaids, dragons, fae, etc) that you work with and information about them. How you work with them, favorite offerings, spellwork that they’ve helped you with, etc.

Covens:

Covens are usually made up of 13 members that come together to practice Magick or celebrate a Sabbath together. They are normally very private groups that use their energies to reach a common goal or need.

Some Witches prefer Covens rather than solitary because you are able to learn and grow from the other members that you surround yourself with. If you are open with your practices then there can be a lot of backlash from non-pagans who don’t understand or accept your beliefs; so it’s always nice to have like-minded individuals in your life who you can communicate and socialize with.

However, if you are wanting to practice in solitude then that is completely up to you and your personal path. There is nothing wrong with not joining a Coven if your heart says no.

#crystals #witchcraft #spells #introduction to witchcraft #witchcraft lessons #everlasting moon coven #witchcraft tools #types of witches #covens #Wicca #pagans of tumblr #pagan #witches of tumblr

[slashfuhrer]

I want to talk about the color scheme of The Basement Scene in the Killing Of A Sacred Deer ! Because it. Is. Amazing.

The whole thing has something of an under-seawater-quality to it. A damp bluish-green dominates the color palette:

the floor, the pool table cover, Martin's pajamas and his eyes are all of this color, and the white walls and ceiling are bathed in a shadow of the same color.

(i love that they got his eyes to seemingly be greenish as well, it's so pretty)

Steven is just a bit askew from that palette — instead of a lighter blue-green, he's a darker blue-gray, much like the shadows in the recesses of the basement that we see behind Martin. Murkier waters.

But the watery blues, greens, and grays are ripped through by three splashes of red:

the reddish glint of the ceiling light (whoever actually saw that type of lamp ever have a reddish glint, I never have, so here it looks pretty intentional)

the garish red carpet (looks pretty out of place on that green floor, which I presume was the intended effect)

the blood on Martin

thank you for coming to my braindead ted talk

this is like my fifth post about The Basement Scene but I just have so many feelings about it

#barry keoghan #colin farrell #yorgos lanthimos #the killing of a sacred deer #color composition

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Lwaxana Troi

By Ames

Lwaxana haters, see yourselves out (or stick around and see how wrong you are!), because A Star to Steer Her By loves our black-eyed Betazoid mama. She’s the daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, and also one of our favorite characters from The Next Generation!

Like Katharine Pulaski (whom we also stan with the best of them!), Lwaxana Troi is a character who gets way more hate than she deserves, who grew substantially every time she appeared on the show, and who has way more nuance than even some of the main characters we’ve discussed from the show so far! And that fashion sense? Holy cow. So pack your absurdly huge luggage, don your fluffiest wig, and meet up with us and Mr. Homn as we celebrate (and occasionally criticize) all things Lwaxana below and this week on the podcast (sashay over to 55:22 for the convo). We’re going on a manhunt!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

Murderers! Assassins! While her first couple of appearances in TNG were fairly annoying, as you’ll see in our next section, the one thing Lwaxana gets emphatically right in “Manhunt” is figuring out the two Antedians the Enterprise was carrying are actually assassins. And she drops this information in the most nonchalant way possible, cementing her status as a major boss.

Release them and I will stay with you willingly Oh boy is “Ménage à Troi,” a tough episode to gauge. While it certainly has its lows (Lwaxana constantly crashing Deanna’s day, Ferengi shenanigans at their worst, and some sexual assault and implied rape swept under the rug), Mrs. Troi does put her daughter first and insists to Daimon Tog that Deanna and Will be released if she sacrifices herself like any mother would.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? The other great scene that Lwaxana inspires in “Ménage à Troi,” is one we mentioned in our Picard Spotlight post, when she and JL work together to trick the Ferengi into releasing her. Even from across viewscreens, she compels the beautiful diatribe of Shakespearean poetry from Jean-Luc that ends up saving the summer’s day!

What does that little one do, Mister Woof? I don’t know why, but it always tickles me the couple of times on the show that Lwaxana calls our Klingon security head “Mr. Woof” as she does in “Half a Life” and others. Is she doing it just to evoke a reaction from him? Does she actually know his name at all? Regardless of the answer, it’s a cute joke that the writers play.

It is the custom for your loved ones to join you at this Resolution, is it not? Our fuller opinion of the character really started getting formed once the show reached “Half a Life” – one of our TNG faves – and we got a different look at this man-hungry helicopter parent. Suddenly, Lwaxana has nuance. She fights for people other than herself or her immediate family. She becomes vulnerable with Timicin, something we didn’t think possible from her character. And when she decides to go with him to his Resolution, it feels personal, complex, and complete.

A child who is trusted becomes worthy of that trust We gave Deanna some rightful criticism for thinking that writing up a contract between Worf and Alexander would be a good idea in “Cost of Living,” and Lwaxana waltzes in like a fairy godmother and throws that terrible idea in their faces! Immediately, she knows how to better parent Alexander than anyone else on the show ever had, low bar that that is.

You’re telling me you’re not going to be naked at your own wedding? It feels like such a triumph for Lwaxana to so brazenly show up naked to her wedding in “Cost of Living,” fully embracing her Betazoid heritage and throwing her strong will and individuality in Campio’s and his little toady’s faces. Now why she was engaged to that uptight twat in the first place is another story, but good for her anyway!

Whatever it is, we can face it together Here’s an actually good moment she shares with her daughter: That tear-jerking moment in “Dark Page.” It’s another instance in which we see Lwaxana as having more personality traits than we were led to believe she had as she comes to acknowledge the death of her daughter Kestra, and also we see Majel Barrett nailing some acting we’d never seen from her before.

Nobody’s ever seen me like this By the time we reach Deep Space Nine, the writers have figured out what to do with Lwaxana Troi to make her an impactful character. Sure, she’s still a great comic device, especially against rigid characters like Picard and Odo, but it’s in the way that she is humanized (or Betazoidized?) in scenes like the truly remarkable turbolift scene in “The Forsaken” that she really shines.

Then sway with me, Odo. Sway with me. While Lwaxana’s constant pestering of Picard gets tiring really quickly, her relationship with Odo proves something more interesting. In one of those Odd Couple kind of pairings, she’s able to get Odo to come out of his shell, even if it’s just a little bit, so when she gets him to dance with her in “Fascination,” it’s delightful and shows more layers to their respective characters.

Before I met her, my world was a much smaller place Okay, so the weird inspiration vampire side of the plot of “The Muse” may be idiotic, but the Lwaxana-Odo scenes are pure gold. Lwaxana and Odo, again, find each other to be the only people they can be vulnerable with, and Odo agrees to marry a very pregnant Lwaxana to get her out of an existing marriage, delivering the purest, most intimate and beautiful speech we’ve heard from him (until Kira, at least).

Strut your stuff on the catwalk Finally, we just have to give massive points to her remarkable fashion sense. One of our favorites is this blue number from “Fascination,” with the perfect wig to complement it and accessories like whoa. Make sure you check out our full screenshot assemblage that we put together previously to give fair credit to the excellent costuming of this iconic woman.

—

Worst moments

Momzillas gone wild Mrs. Troi is not without her faults, however, and most are man-related. How much pressure she puts on her daughter to get married is more than uncomfortable, it can get downright offensive. When the arranged marriage she initiated between Deanna and Wyatt comes due in “Haven,” it’s clear that this momzilla doesn’t always have her daughter’s best interests in mind; just her own.

Use your mind, not your mouth We also found it just plain rude how much Lwaxana insisted on communicating with Deanna telepathically in “Haven” and other episodes. a) Deanna has made it clear she’d rather speak out loud, and b) Picard and other crewmembers can’t hear what’s being said and that’s impolite, especially coming from someone of such standing in the Federation.

Oh, Jean-Luc, what naughty thoughts It becomes a running gag for the first couple appearances of Lwaxana how much she makes sexual advances on Captain Picard, who is just trying to do his job most of the time. But “Manhunt” really takes the cake for just going overboard with presumptuous behavior unbecoming for a woman of her stature. Leave the poor guy alone!

Until death us do part Later in “Manhunt,” it’s even grosser for Mrs. Troi to declare that she and Riker are to be wed. Whatever physiological state she was in is no excuse for how she goes out of her way to mortify her daughter, to put the moves on Deanna’s imzadi without consent, and to make scene after scene all for romantic attention. Why Gene Roddenberry would make his wife act like this is beyond us.

No man has ever been such a mystery to me Lucky for the flesh-and-blood men that Lwaxana spends most of “Manhunt” sexually accosting, apparently she has no idea what a hologram is. I don’t know how, but she’s so horny that when she meets Rex the bartender, she’s so intrigued by her inability to read his mind that she doesn’t even realize it’s because he’s not a real person. We can just imagine how far it went before it dawned on her.

Oo-mox is only the beginning It’s only fitting that someone like Lwaxana Troi should be there for the introduction of oo-mox on the show, and one time was already too much. During “Ménage à Troi,” Lwaxana unknowingly performs what’s essentially a sex act on her captor, which is gross enough as it is, but we learn later in an episode of Deep Space Nine that she also slept with Daimon Tog, and I vomit in my mouth.

Swipe right! We learn in “Cost of Living” that Lwaxana has gotten engaged to Campio, whom she effectively met on a dating app and whom she has absolutely no chemistry with. It strikes us as entirely out of character that she’d accept marriage to someone who wouldn’t allow her to be who she intrinsically is just because he’s rich. Thank the Four Deities she found a way out of it!

My name is Mud While we gave Lwaxana credit for spending more time with Alexander and treating him better than Worf ever does, we have to admit that the jacuzzi scene in “Cost of Living” is off-putting. Sure, it’s the future and we know that in Betazoid culture, nudity is entirely normal, but we’re still not sure it’s something Alexander is accustomed to or had any ability to consent to and that’s weird.

The worst thing that can happen to any parent This is a complicated one because it’s so triggering. I’m not sure it would be fair to blame Lwaxana or anyone for the accident that befell Kestra as we learn in “Dark Page,” but it’s very clear that Lwaxana blames herself. This is truly the lowest her character had ever been, and it explains a few things about how she so tightly latches on to Deanna, but it is a bad, bad time for her.

Bad thoughts, they hurt her What’s more accurate to say about the events from “Dark Page” is that Lwaxana had handled her trauma in an ultimately poor way. By blocking those memories as evidently Betazoids do with triggering events, she never was able to mourn or accept the loss of Kestra, instead avoiding the memories entirely in a way that turned out to be harmful to her and not fair to her late daughter’s memory.

Does no one understand quarantine procedures? I’ll nitpick about it every time some disease breaks out in an episode and no one seems to understand you shouldn’t go around touching everyone around them. So when Lwaxana has Zanthi Fever in “Fascination” and suddenly her horniness becomes contagious, I’m doubly pissed off because it resulted in a really, really stupid premise for an episode.

What I’d mistaken for love was nothing more than a prison After we mentioned just now when Lwaxana leapt at the chance to marry Campio in “Cost of Living,” we see she’s made the same mistake with Jeyal in “The Muse,” except now there’s a baby involved. The most irritating facet of Lwaxana’s personality is how man-hungry she always seems to be. It always clouds her perception, making her make bad decision after bad decision, and worse: making her compromise who she is.

—

Give it up for Majel Barrett Roddenberry, who could really do it all. Stick around next week for more kickass recurring characters on the Enterprise-D, and for our continued ride through the series Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast. You can also send us love notes over on Facebook and Twitter, but stop marrying every eligible dude you meet!

#star trek #star trek podcast #podcast #lwaxana troi #the next generation #deep space nine #haven #manhunt #menage a troi #half a life #cost of living #dark page #the forsaken #fascination #the muse #majel barrett

[mermaidenmystic]

“Consciousness is the most stubborn substance in the cosmos, and the most fluid. It can be rigid as concrete, and it can change in an instant. A song can change it, or a story, or a fragrance wafting by on the wind." ~ Starhawk, from “The Fifth Sacred Thing”

art by Joséphine Klerks

[vandal-flower]

Chapter 4 - So This Is Love

Blue Roses With Gold Lining

The day has ended and you recall Madam Gertrude's wise words. Wake up to a morning to a new routine and most importantly, a courtroom meeting held by the prince.

MALE LEAD: Michael Kaiser

W.C.: 2.2 words

WARNINGS:

Mentions of children, child abuse & neglect, reader takes a bathe, 'prostitute' is used x3, fatherless behavior from Michael.

I.¹ - ll.² - lll.³ - V.⁵ - VI⁶

"To the very point of having his child."

These eight words rung in your head while resting on your bed in your personal chambers. It reminds you like how your mother would reprimand you to not gag about hearing of how the ministers got their 'connections' in high places. Disgusting.

Having a child is sacred. The whole act of trying to have a child is sacred, it is supposed to show the bond between a woman and a man. It is supposed to show the love between these two people.

It's all in the name of love.

A sick and twisted version of it.

These women participating in this competition would have the prince's child to show how he 'loves' them so much, how they 'love' him so much. But in the end would neglect their own child, abuse their own child, once the prince abandons them.

And she knows this. The queen knows this. She has to.

There is a possibility that she is experienced in this. Why else would she give birth to Michael. Out of love? That's a foolish mindset to have.

It was to win.

To win the little game they play. The gamble which they bet their life on. Throw the dice and pray to whichever deity you pray to in order to win, or take it in your own hands. What's even worse is that the child's gender adds more tension.

A girl to sell off.

A boy to achieve greatness.

An heir to keep the royal bloodline flowing. To make a name in history.

To make a name in history...

History...

His story...

You wouldn't lie to yourself and say you never wanted your name to be written down in some book, but just your name. Having your good deeds written down as well would be great, but you can't be greedy now.

But the only thing keeping these shenanigans going is greed.

Focus (Name), you need to focus.

You can stress and think about the things at the back of your mind later, you have to focus on what you need to do. Remember what Madam Gertrude told you.

First, keep to yourself, but listen to the conversations of others that could be of benefit to you.

You could learn the secrets of others and their plans. You need to be one step ahead.

Second, don't raise your voice unless you want to look like a fool.

You could draw unwanted attention and could let others poke around you to make you look like a fool even more. Don't shout, but be loud enough to be heard.

Third, don't boast about your achievements. Even if you achieve something greater than the rest, that doesn't mean you are an inch away from death. Be proud of what you have done, but don't let it get into your head.

Fourth, act cautiously and carefully. You need to be aware of your surroundings and make sure your plans are planned cautiously and carefully. The last thing you want is for someone to know what you're doing.

Fifth, become allies to people who vow not to betray you. Finding people who's trust could be an asset to you can get you places. Befriending them could at least lead you to an advantage.

Sixth and finally, win the loyalty of the prince, not his heart. Even if a king says he loves you, he still has his concubines. His loyalty can last for years and is of great power and a weapon to slaughter your enemies.

Madam Gertrude must of had strong faith of you to tell you this. Your main goal is to survive, as well as Michael's little task for you.

You yawn and rub your eyes. It's the end of the day, of course you would be tired, especially from the events that happened today. You change into a night gown to sleep. It's a good thing your head servant packed the one you wanted instead of your parents' option. You'll thank her when you see her.

Before drifting off to sleep, you take one last look at the blue roses outside the window.

You wonder if you could take a closer look at them.

You wake up to one of the servants gently patting you on the back. Had it not been for this damn competition, you would've ignored and gone back to sleep. Even though you clearly need it, you can't let your intrusive thoughts gain power over you and win. You are in this mess because of it. You recall smacking away Michael's hand when he was touching you yesterday.

Definitely intrusive thoughts.

You sit up straight and look at the servant, she avoids eye contact by look down at the floor. You assume she is timid since all the servants you have at home look directly at you, but you remember how looking at people of great royalty can be considered a crime.

You must not forget that this place has the most prideful people to ever exist. One look at them and they turn it into a court case meant for first degree murder. People who act like that are sensitive, you think.

"Your grace, the prince has called for all the women participating in the competition to meet at the courtroom. He advices to be swift and to not be late.", she tells you, still looking at the floor.

"Thank you for informing me, you are dismissed.", you tell her, getting up from the bed and stretching before entering the bathroom.

"Um, your grace, I apologize for stopping you from what you are doing but...", she stammers through her words, but manages to catch your attention.

"Yes?"

"Servants are supposed to bathe you, not yourself. It is a must for all servants to treat the people staying in the palace to be treated with our utmost care."

Pardon.

You look at her wide-eyed. What do mean servants are supposed to bathe you? How was this normal? How can such rule cease to exist? You might as well abandon the logic you brought from home, because it honestly sounds ridiculous!

You take a deep breath and look at her. "Thank you for informing me once again, may you please prepare the bath for me."

"Of course your grace."

You enter the bathroom with her following you behind. She made sure the water was not too hot or too cold, just right. You undressed while she did so, removing your night gown and folding it to put it on top of the counter.

"Your bath is ready your grace.", she alerts you.

As you slowly entered the bathtub, she grabbed soap and a sponge to wash you.

If you could describe the overall experience in one word, it would be uncomfortable.

The silence was louder than anything you have ever heard in your life. You would rather hear bees buzzing, birds chirping, dogs barking, cats meowing for five minutes everyday, than go through this experience once everyday.

When she was done bathing you, she dressed you up and applied some make-up to you as well. The last thing she did was combing your hair. She made sure to get rid of the knots without hurting you.

A miracle worker you think.

One could argue that the servants are trained to give the best treatment to their guests, but you don't care. You rather have her do your hair for the rest of your life than anyone else.

By the time she was done with everything, she smiles to herself, proud of her work. "Your grace, why don't you go to the mirror to see how you look, I hope it is to your liking."

When you saw yourself, you were astonished.

The common phrase, 'Pain is Beauty, and Beauty is Pain.', somehow threw itself out of the window. Sure it is true to an extent, but at the end of the day it really depends how far you'll go in order to reach such beauty.

"Beautiful, thank you miss."

"My pleasure your grace. You should be at the courtroom right now, you should not be late."

Oh right. The meeting the prince held in the courtroom.

"Thank you for reminding me, have a good day!"

And like that you speed walked to the courtroom, making sure not to trip and fall on the way. Now that you think about it, telling a servant to have a good day isn't normal, but in they are still human and are forced to endure the scumbags in the palace, not to voice any complaint for the whole day. Why not give them a little kindness to start their day.

You enter the courtroom to see a ten women, Maria and Berdine being the two women you saw first. Seems not all of them have arrived despite being told to be swift.

Maria, who was standing with Berdine, waved her hands at you to grab your attention when she noticed you.

"(Name) you look absolutely stunning!"

"Oh, thank you. You look beautiful as well, you too Berdine.

"Why thank you!"

"Thank you (Name), though I am quite concerned. "

You and Maria turn to Berdine. "The others were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, what's taking them so long?", she said to herself agitated.

"What if they just woke up, or are busy doing their make-up, or just busy doing something.", Maria said, smiling about her sudden assumptions. "I mean, after yesterday, who would want to be insult by the prince."

Or taken to his chambers to make a deal with him only to be sealed with a kiss. On the lips.

You recall the kiss from yesterday and how it felt. He has a terrible personality, comparable to garbage, but he is handsome. Surely you can let it slide just once...

No! Focus (Name)! You can't let some snotty prince's good looking self get into your head.

Your face becomes flushed and feels hot, catching the attention from the two women beside you.

"(Name), you are burning up are you sick, should we take you to your chambers?", Maria asked, her eyes large like jewels staring at you. "No need to be worried about me Marie, you too Berdine.", you look at her worried face. "I'm just embarrassed about yesterday that's all."

Berdine looks at you with an assuring look,"I'm sure you will be alright, I mean it's already the second day."

Before the three of you could continue talking, you were interrupted by three more women entering the courtroom, one of them being Morrigan. Two of the other women were whispering to her, attempting to calm her down.

"Calm down Morrigan."

"He's just playing with her, no need to mind her."

"But that bloody wench was clinging onto him like some prostitute, how the hell can I accept that?!"

Her face was red in anger as she tightly clenched her hands, her nails long enough that it could've cut her palms. Berdine stood forward and asked what had happened. The two women looked at each other worryingly before looking at her.

"One of the women who is also participating in the competition was found talking to the prince."

"And clinging onto his arm, like a prostitute, she was even bad mouthing us, all of us, saying she is better and how she'll win-"

"ENOUGH!"

Morrigan yelled, she then straightened her posture. "I, Morrigan Ernaline, will make sure that wench, little pest will be the first to die by my hand." Some women were unsettled of how she smiled at the thought of killing the suspected woman.

The doors suddenly opened to the prince and the woman herself. She clinged onto his arm, her breasts nearly falling out of her dress. No wonder they called her a prostitute. She nearly looked like one. Her pink hair and eyes don't help her situation at all, she may seem innocent, but her actions could tell a different story. The prince however...

Looked as if he was disappointed.

"You may get off me now.", he said with a disinterested tone. You almost feel hurt by how he sounds. "Oh, forgive me your majesty, you are just so handsome and strong that I could not help myself." She lets go off him, before kissing him on the cheek and walking off.

All of you are stunned.

Who does this woman think she is?!

Her actions towards the prince won't leave him guessing, but make him want to be away from her. Such act is probably to show she is better than us. Michael doesn't bother to wipe off the remains of the kiss, instead sighs to himself and smiles to himself.

"At least one of you are making a move on me, as aspected." "I called all of you here to explain how some of you are lacking."

Lacking?

"Some of you lack confidence, some have to learn their place, deflate your ego, and most importantly, abandon your old logic.", he said, his tone was condescending that some women flinched.

"Don't cry over spilled milk now, I won't make me any softer towards you, instead, show your affections or become someone of great use to me."

"It's your choice, princesses."

Some women just looked at the prince with shock, some smiled to themselves, others remained silent, but you couldn't care less. In order to gain his loyalty, you have to be of use to him. But you don't want him to use you, no. You want him to be of use to you.

This is how you will show him your affections.

How you want to show Michael Kaiser your affections and gain his loyalty.

Tagging:

@lightoftheamethyst

@kimura-uzuri

@kascar-chronicle

I apologize for taking so long, I was extremely busy and exams are coming up. My inbox is still open and just ask to be tagged in later chapters.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #Blue Roses with Gold Lining #vandal-flower