#and devout Christian men | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lady-dulcinea · 7 months

Text

Something the October 11th entry really highlights is how much Mina and Jonathan are sure about each other. How much they know each other to the point they can read each other without any perceived difficulty, and how their devotion, their partnership, although treasured and seamlessly reciprocated by both, is never even questioned by them.

When Mina receives news that Jonathan is alive, she goes, an unmarried and unaccompanied woman, all the way to find him and marry him, even tho he’s still traumatised, half mad from his stay at Castle Dracula, and in the eyes of society could very much be considered an “invalid”. But she marries him anyway, and although Jonathan does gently reaffirm the delicate state of his body and specially his mind, he never really seems overly surprised that she chose him despite it all. And in the same entry we see a similar reaction from Mina when Sister Agatha feels the need to inform her that she shouldn’t worry that Jonathan’s malady might be because of some other woman; she all but scoffs at the idea, because it hadn’t even crossed her mind. Of course there isn’t another woman. Similarly, as she eventually makes acquaintance with several men, all of them rich bachelors who grow a quick and openly affectionate bond with her, Jonathan has not a single moment of insecurity about it. Of course they all love Mina, why wouldn’t they? Jealousy requires a certain lack of confidence in your partner that neither of them has. Their worries concerning each other are always ALWAYS directed at external influences: That something will hurt them, or that something will keep them from each other.

Which brings us to October 11th, when that sureness is brought to it’s highest, most tragic peak. Jonathan knew what Mina intended calling them all to meet her before their trip. He was so sure of it he spoke with Jack beforehand to make sure it would all be documented correctly, as he himself would never be able to write down such a thing as a symbolic funeral for his beloved. And he also knew what she would make them promise to do.

Because Mina, beyond just wishing to have the littlest bit of agency over her own death, is being strategic here. She knows Jonathan will “be with her to the very end”. She does not need to know of the promise he made to her in the solitude of his diary. Their devotion to each other is a given, one they do not take for granted, but that they expect nonetheless because they know each other and the strength of their love. Had she read the promise, she would undoubtedly be shocked by it, specifically by the utter heresy of it, devout as she is to her faith. But she would not be surprised, and this entry shows her anticipating what the Worst Case Scenario could potentially do to her husband, and trying to avoid it at all cost.

No, I don’t think she gone as far as assuming that Jonathan would deliberately choose vampirism for her. He has been as much of a devout christian as her for most of their lives, and tho she is not blind to the changes the last few months (and specially the last few days) have caused on him, she would not there suggest the Holiest Love conclusion is anywhere close to his mind. For after all, she has explicitly stated that she wants to be received by the grace of God, wants the same freedom granted by the boys to the soul of dear Lucy, and Jonathan simply wouldn’t deny her that.

Right?

And guys, as much as I love Jonathan’s vow and how he absolutely refuses to let her “walk into that unknown and terrible land alone”… it is a selfish vow. Romantic to the core, but selfish. Jonathan knows that’s not what Mina wants. He phrases it in a way that makes it seem like he is doing it purely out of love for her, so she’ll not be alone, but really, the selfless thing would be to do what she asked of him today. Her soul would be free, there would be no more Dracula to torment the world and kill innocents, and when Jonathan’s time came, he would join her in heaven.

But as I said before, the only thing that ever worries them about their relationship is whether or not they are hurt and when there is something keeping them apart. Jonathan goes to Transylvania and Dracula tries to keep him there: they both suffer from the distance. The first time Jonathan went to meet a client was the first time he and Mina were away from each other since the wedding, and she expresses anxiety about that. The men want to keep Mina away from vampire business to “protect her”: both her and Jonathan are unhappy with suddenly keeping secrets from each other. “A door is locked between them” because there is a part of Dracula inside Mina’s mind and she cannot be trusted to know all their planning, and Jonathan is crestfallen about it. Their deepest source of misery is always not being with each other, not being able to communicate properly, not just be together. And they both know that. Mina is just severely underestimating how far Jonathan would go so they’re not separated. As it is, she knows her death would bring him terrible grief, and by asking the help of their friends today and making him read the burial service, she’s trying to both a) Guarantee that should Jonathan’s hand falter, more steady ones would fulfil her wish; b) Unite them once more in the care they all have for her and show Jonathan that, should the worst happen, he won’t be alone. The other will be there. He shall not be so lonely if/when he becomes a widower; c) Perhaps by reading the burial service he can become more used to the possibility of her death and ease his heart to the matter.

However, Jonathan promises nothing to anyone. He asked for Jack to make an accurate description of what happened so that no detail would be left out, and yet we hear no word of confirmation from him.

And I’m sure she noticed it, too.

#Dracula Daily #Dracula Daily 2023 #Re: Dracula #October 11th #Mina Murray #Jonathan Harker #Burial Service #Holiest Love #Analysis

489 notes · View notes

ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 1 year

Text

Second Circle Of Hell - Osferth (The Last Kingdom)

I got this idea while I was in church...because my pastor is kinda good looking...cough. i'm such a sinner, i must corrupt the babey

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), dubcon, femdom (mostly), corruption kink, innocence kink, virginity loss, religious conflict, religious guilt (not me projecting🙈), think that's it?

2.9K Words🤙🏻

Ever since pious and devout Christian monk Osferth joined the party of Uhtred, you've had your eye on him in deep intrigue.

The young man seemed so innocent, too innocent. You often wondered what dirty secrets he could be hiding.

Now, you may have just been a lecherous heathen that everyone who wasn’t a Dane said you were. You were practically a whore in your own right, so maybe anyone who acted relatively kind was innocent to you.

You never shied away from being yourself, especially in front of your group of men. Perhaps it was the way you were raised. You had no trouble changing in front of people, knowing that you could protect yourself if any of them would be stupid enough to make a move. Uhtred had already made that mistake once, but he never did it again after you put your dagger to his balls. You also never feared to bathe near the group, plus it was safer than going off on your own and you didn’t care if they saw you. You loved making your boys uncomfortable as well.

A memory that always stuck with you is when you were bathing in a river one day and Osferth accidentally saw you. He spoke apology after apology until his face turned beet red, but all you did was laugh. You had asked him for your clothes but he handed them to you with his eyes closed. That was the only moment when you were disappointed a man didn’t try to take advantage of you for once.

There was a day in Winchester where you, Finan, and Osferth were sitting outside a tavern. You could see how nervous and shy the boy was around women, and then Finan said it. He joked that Osferth was a virgin. He did that thing where he denied it so much that it must’ve been true, and that’s what you had your idea. You knew you’d want to be the one to deflower him, lest Finan actually bought him a whore one day like he said he would. No, you wanted to claim him for yourself. You just had to find the right moment.

Thankfully, there came a time when Uhtred had asked you and Osferth to spy on a Danish camp. It would be dangerous obviously, but you couldn’t help but celebrate in your mind when you realized the two of you would finally be alone together. It looked like Osferth was just happy he was being trusted with such an important task, although you would be there too.

You both set up camp a good distance away from the Danes’ campsite, some ways deep into the woods, making sure there would be no way they could spot you or hear you. You watched them all day, returning to your own campsite as the sun started to set. The trees blocking the light of the moon that you had to build a campfire to see as well as keep warm. But, you soon started thinking of other ways you could keep warm.

Osferth was nervous, you could tell. He didn’t look you in the eyes unless he had to. He probably would have preferred to go on this mission with Finan or Sihtric, but he had to deal with you alone now.

You tried your best to make conversation, but it never lasted more than a few sentences. It was frustrating. So, you did what you usually do best: make people uncomfortable.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” You asked suddenly, amused at the way Osferth immediately went wide-eyed and a wild blush coming to his cheeks. “I heard what Finan said at that tavern the other day, you seemed flustered as you are now.” He stuttered, no full words leaving his mouth due to your boldness. It gave you your answer. “So, I suppose Finan was right. You are a virgin.” You smirked teasingly.

Osferth finally quit his stuttering and sighed in defeat. “So what if I was?”

“You are a handsome lad, surely there have been offers from women before?”

“I mean…yes. Some.”

“And you never thought to take up those offers?”

He looked down in embarrassment. “It’s not like I didn’t want to, it’s just. I dunno, I feel like I wouldn’t want my first time to be with a stranger. Someone I don’t care about or know.”

“So would you hump someone you cared about?”

“When we were married, I suppose.”

You scoffed. “Why wait till marriage?”

“Because it’s a sin to be with someone before marriage, that’s what the Scripture says.”

“And what if you never get married?” You asked with an exasperated chuckle.

“Then I guess I’ll always be a virgin…” He shrugged, “Do you think me less of a man, my Lady?”

You shook your head with a smile. “No. I’m actually kinda glad you are.” He furrowed his brows in confusion, not understanding what you meant. “Because I wish to be the one to deflower you.” As if he couldn’t get any redder, he managed to do so, especially when you moved closer to him so you sat right beside him. He blinked a few times in shock, holding the cross attached to his necklace tightly.

“My Lady, I-I just told you, I can’t.”

You snickered. “Of course you can. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Osferth. I saw how your cock swelled when you saw me naked in the river that day. Did you even relieve yourself afterwards?” He stayed silent, and you hummed in disapproval. “What? Is it a sin to make yourself come too?” He nodded curtly and you rolled your eyes, placing your hand on his knee, slowly trailing up his thigh until he pushed you away and stood up from his spot on the ground.

“Stop. I made a vow, to myself and to God.”

You frowned. “Do you not like me?” And you tried to hide your smile as he immediately assured you that was not the case. You stood up and reached for him cautiously, seeing his internal struggle. “You’ve killed, betrayed your country, your home. Do you think breaking a simple vow will be any worse than all that, hm?”

“I never wanted to kill anyone.” He whispered, allowing you to run your hands up his chest and wrap around his shoulders.

“Then maybe you shouldn't have joined up with a group of heathens.” He was such a sheltered man, you wanted him to experience all he could. You wanted him to be with someone he knew and cared about, you weren’t going to let him be with some whore or stranger. He was looking down at you with confliction, eyes traveling from your own to your lips. You knew what he wanted, you just had to give him a little push.

Osferth let out a surprised hum when you pressed your lips against his without another word, catching him off guard so that he couldn’t reject your advances right away. But even as you kept kissing him, he never made a move to push you away nor did he intensify the kiss in any way. You tangled your fingers in his short hair, pulling hard enough that he gasped, allowing you to deepen the kiss. You smirked as he let out a breathy moan, you could already feel his hard on pressing against you. Your tongues touched briefly, but it seemed that shook him back into focus as he jolted away, his back turned to you. “You shouldn’t have done that, my Lady…” You heard him whisper shakily, you could see his hands trembling at his sides.

You said nothing as you walked to stand in front of him again, his innocent pleading eyes looking up at you, silently begging for you not to continue. But you did not listen, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs would not let you. “Please, Osferth…I can make you feel good.” You kissed his cheek cautiously, kissing all over his face until there was one spot left. He leaned in to kiss you himself this time, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you against him tightly. You could feel a wetness on his face and you pulled back to see that he was crying.

“God, I want you so bad, I do.” He sniffled. “It hurts.” He winced.

“Then let me make the pain go away.” You cooed, removing your clothes until you were bare to the elements of Wessex. You shuddered as the wind hardened your nipples and cooled the slick that was already gathering at your cunt. Osferth moaned at the sight of you, not looking away this time like he did at the river. “Touch me.” You commanded softly, gently bringing one of his hands to cup your supple breasts. He squeezed them experimentally, looking to see if it brought you any discomfort, but it did quite the opposite. “I need you, Osferth.” You kissed him again passionately, your limbs going shaky as you felt desire overcome you.

He wordlessly allowed you to strip him naked, saying a silent prayer in his mind as his stiff cock was finally freed of its confines. You brought him to the ground, where you had laid furs for the night, seeing him look up at you on his back made you drool.

“Please,” Osferth begged, his cock already throbbing and you hadn’t even done anything but whisper your enchanting words in his ears. “don’t make me break my vow…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just relax for me.” You whispered, throwing your leg over his waist, straddling him. Your pussy was already slick with anticipation of his sweet corruption. You could only imagine how pretty his lewd moans would sound.

Osferth hissed as you took his cock in your hand, rubbing the tip in between in your folds before lining him up with your entrance. You both moaned loudly as you sunk down on him, he stretched you out more than you anticipated. “Gods, you’re bigger than you look.” You whispered breathily.

“Am I hurting you?” He panicked instantly, but you simply smiled and shook your head. Such a sweet gentleman. You were so warm and wet, your walls clenching around him due to the intrusion, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel so damn good; like heaven on earth. “Oh, my Lord God, have mercy on my soul…” He begged as he clutched his cross in his hand tightly as you grinded down on him. He looked up at you in awe as if you were an angel, he could practically see your halo as he suddenly came.

You giggled as he filled you up, watching as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his mouth opened wide as he let out a long, pained moan. “That was quick. Was it that good?” You smirked, loving the way his face flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, my Lady.” He stuttered, but you silenced him with a kiss.

“Don’t be.”

Osferth’s eyes filled with tears, the light from the campfire making his piercing blue eyes shine as he stared at the cross in his hand. “What have I done, Lord?” He whimpered pitifully, and you almost felt sorry for him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was still rock hard inside your cunt.

“Ready to go again so soon?” You chuckled darkly, moving your hips back and forth, causing him to let out a whine.

“No, don’t, not again-”

“You’ve already broken your vow, sweet monk. What more harm could you do now?” He looked up at you with a remorseful expression, the weight of what he had done heavy on his chest. You slowly lifted yourself off, slamming back down on him to elicit a cry from his soft lips. “So sensitive. But I suppose since I got what I wanted, I can stop-”

“No!” Osferth interrupted, surprising himself and you. He looked entirely conflicted as he placed his shaking hands on your hips, keeping you in place and not allowing you to remove himself from you. “No…you’re right. I’ve broken my vow. I can’t change that now. I suppose...I can enjoy this?”

“Yes, sweet baby monk. Let yourself enjoy this. Indulge in the feeling of me.” You moaned, continuing to rock your hips, a gasp escaping your lips as your clit brushed up against his pelvis as the head of his cock started to rub up against that sensitive spot inside you that always made you see stars. “Gods, you’re perfect. I wish we had done this sooner.” Osferth moaned at your words, his cock twitching inside you and making butterflies swirl in his stomach. You raked your nails down his bare chest, hearing soft whimpers escaping his mouth as you rode him. “How does it feel?” You asked, struggling to keep in your high pitched moans.

“Good, my Lady.” He stuttered. “So good.” You moaned as Osferth started to buck up into you, losing himself in his own pleasure and making you feel amazing in return. “Does it always feel so heavenly?” He groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, the dull pain making a shock of euphoria reverberate through your entire body for a split second.

“No, not for women at least.”

“Is…is there anything I can do to make it feel good for you too?” He asked innocently, but his eyes expressed something else, a slight darkness to them, his pupils so blown out you could barely see his bright blue irises anymore.

You grinned as you took one of his hands off your hip, bringing it to your cunt. “Rub circles with your thumb right here.” You guided him to your clit, even what little pressure he put had your head reeling.

“Like this, my Lady?”

“A bit more pressure.” You cried out as he listened to your instructions diligently. “Yes, yes, gods, just like that.” Osferth smiled proudly, helping you ride him as he rubbed your clit attentively. You threw your head back as you were nearing your own peak, the man beneath you learning faster than anyone else you’ve ever been with. “Such a good boy.” You whined, your hands grasping and scratching at your tits.

You squeaked as Osferth suddenly flipped you over onto your back, knocking the breath from your lungs as he pounded into you with abandon. Like a switch finally flipped inside him, he was taking pleasure for himself, finding confidence just like he found the courage to fight and kill alongside everyone on Uhtred’s team. You hoped you had created a monster. The way he was fucking into you, if you didn’t know he had only been a virgin half an hour ago, you would have believed he had experience beyond your years. He still had the decency to continue caring for your sensitive nub, forcing your body into overdrive as you kept climbing and climbing to reach that peak. Now you were the one whining and whimpering, how the tables turned.

With his cock continuously hitting that special spot inside of you and your stimulated clit, accompanied by the sound of Osferth’s skin slapping against yours wetly along with his soft moans in your ear, you felt that intense ecstasy you had been craving wash over you like a tidal wave. You prayed to the gods that the Dane’s camp, however many miles away, would not be able to hear your loud strained moan as you came. “Gods, Osferth!” You cried out, your hands holding onto his shoulder with a vice grip that would surely leave bruises just like he must’ve done to your hips.

“Christ-!” Osferth groaned, gripping one of your breasts as he fucked a second load into you, his vision going blurry as his second orgasm was much more powerful than the first. It was too much and not enough, all he could do was ride it out until the feeling went away.

When it seemed he came back to your realm, you were looking up at him with a proud grin. He couldn’t help but grin back, the afterglow making him dazed and giddy. “You made me come, sweet Osferth. Not many people have achieved such a feat.”

“I don’t believe you, my Lady.” He smiled, pulling out of you with a hiss and laying down beside you. It was true, but even if it wasn’t, you still wanted to stroke his ego just to see the blush on his face. “Now I understand why some take a vow of celibacy.”

You giggled, turning to lay on your stomach, resting on your elbows. “Why?”

“Because I think I could worship you now, and the Scripture says that you shall not have any gods before Him.” He smirked boyishly, trailing his pointer finger across your jawline, stopping his path to rest the finger on your bottom lip.

You gently kissed the tip of his finger, his eyes watching you intently. “As much as it might be fun to be worshiped, I have no intention to steal you away from your god.”

“You already have, my Lady.”

Needless to say, your mission for Uhtred went well. You managed to signal the rest of the group when the Danes were off guard, slaughtering everyone you all could before they retreated. And your recent lover Osferth had just the way to celebrate the newest victory.

i am such a heathen, something me and Uhtred have in common i guess

#the last kingdom #osferth #osferth the last kingdom #osferth tlk #osferth imagine #osferth x reader #osferth x f!reader #osferth x fem!reader #osferth smut #baby monk #ewan mitchell

1K notes · View notes

catholic-character-tournament · 10 months

Text

Round 5 - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Sister Michael

She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.

joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?

she does love a good statue it has to be said

She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3

sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler Propaganda:

good lord where do i start. in the animated series he converts logan to catholisism and then fucks off basically thats the main thing he did there. i think one time they tried to make him a demon to explain how he looked but everyone hated that. he sold his soul one time to help his friends out after he died. he and logan have a weird little gay thing. he was a priest one time but he was made a priest by a fake bishop from a religion that hates mutants iirc so he just wasnt a priest. like 3 people have written him in a way i like and one of those is my friend just talking about how they view him.

wow marvel loves making catholic characters dress/look like demons

Kurt is a mutant who was born to mystique who looks a LOT like a devil (technically is half one but that cannon truth isn’t real go back to bed), his mother dropped him off a cliff when he was born and he was picked up by a Romani group/circus (fuck old comics man) however he then narrowly escaped being sold to a freak show and found himself in a small German town. There he met a kind priest, who showed him God, and he quickly grew attached to the idea- However, it wasn’t long before people began labeling him a demon and soon the whole town was against him with pitchforks and fire. Cornered and injured, Kurt thought this might be the end for him- maybe he would see heaven so long after finding it- but he was then saved by Charles Xavier who invited him to the X-Men. AND ITS BEEN SO MANY YEARS AND HE HAS BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH THERE. SO MUCH. SO GOD DAMN MUCH. BUT THE MOST AAAA THING TO ME CONCERNING HIS FAITH HE WHEN HE LITERALLY DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN BUT THEN BECAUSE OF DRAMA WITH HIS FATHER HAD TO BRING HIS FRIENDS IN WITH HIM FROM THE BEYOND. THEN WITH ALOT OF TROUBLE THEY FOUGHT HIS FATHER AND THE ONLY WAY KURT SAW TO STOP HIM WAS IN A MOVE THAT STRIPPED THEM BOTH OF THEIR SOULS AND PUT THEM BACK ON EARTH. SO KURT CANONICALLY HAS NOW LOST HIS ABILITY FOR ETERNAL PEACE, LOST HIS VERY SOUL, TO SAVE PEOPLE- AND ALSO TOLD NO ONE NOT EVEN HIS GAY LOVER WOLVERINE.

Nightcrawler is a mutant vigilante who looks like a classical demon. He can’t even go to church without people panicking and trying to exorcize him. Despite it all, he’s so full of faith and hope and compassion, and he wants to believe the best of everyone. Also, he’s bffs with an extremely angry Jewish sword lesbian. That has nothing to do with anything, but it’s important to me that you all know that.

What if you were a devout christian and literally looked like the devil? He nearly became the pope, which was a plot by some supervillains that also involved faking a rapture? There is nothing like comics I swear to god.

A catholic who is half demon I don’t think I can better explain a struggle than that. But his character is so relatable to people who feel unwelcome with their congregation because of something that is a part of them but still feeling a connection to the faith. Kurt actively engaged in his faith and shares how his faith helps him through all the things he has faced in life and how he found a home with those of the church who leave the judging to God.

so they made kurt a priest briefly before deciding to retcon it, resulting in nightcrawler actually being part of a plan by villains to promote him to pope then reveal to the world that the pope is a demon. wild.

I have a side blog and a tattoo about him and i really really want him to win

Wisecracking devil-appearing devout Catholic with the Best superpower (teleportation)? HECK YES

German Catholic circus acrobat who looks like a demon & can teleport through a hellish alternate dimension with a puff of sulfur. Character of all time.

hes catholic and his dad is the devil. what could be funnier than that. also hes my silly little guy.

Nightcrawler is the world’s most fun catholic priest. I first was introduced to this kindhearted teleporting acrobat while he saved a boat full of stowaway refugees from inter dimensional pirates with swashbuckling gusto!

#cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #kurt wagner #x men #nightcrawler #marvel #xmen #x men comics #marvel x men #r5 #the derry girls #derry girls #sister michael

366 notes · View notes

zaldritzosrose · 16 days

Text

Surrender (Sihtric x Noble!Reader)

Summary: Your relationship with Sihtric was secret, except from those closest to you. And ever the gentleman, Sihtric was determined for you to remain pure. But somethings, or some people, are just too tempting to resist.

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, innuendo, dry humping, fingering, eventual sex, Sihtric being soft and a little subby (if you squint)

Words: 2,660

It had been quite the task to hide your relationship with Sihtric, being a lady-in-waiting to the Lady Aethelflaed. Courting a Dane would not go down well with the King, you knew that without any doubt. But it did not stop either of you, the sweet, shy smile Sihtric would always cast your way was far too hard to resist.

Though it had not taken your Lady long to notice, which should have spelled disaster. But she had been nothing but supportive. Even going as far to assure you no one would know other than her, and anyone Sihtric himself chose to tell. In terms of his friends, he had not needed tell them. Apparently, he had not been as subtle in his affections towards you as he thought. Finan had been the first to notice, not hesitating to tease Sihtric over the way he never seemed able to tear his eyes away from you any time they were at the royal castle. And it had only been a matter of time before Uhtred and Osferth knew as well – the Irishman being incapable of keeping it a secret for long.

Which brought some comfort, with how your lady and his friends would always find ways to bring the two of you together in secret.

And if there was one thing to be said about your Dane paramour, was that he was a gentleman, through and through. At least with you. No matter how much you tried to tease and tempt, Sihtric was stubborn and determined not to, in his words, ‘sully your virtue’. He would remind you time after time, that it was not proper of him to make a Christian such as yourself sin. Even when you tried to remind him that not every Saxon was a devout Christian. But he was dead set on that fact.

Until one day, you heard quite the interesting piece of information that you knew might help…persuade your lover.

“It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

You had heard those words uttered between two ladies, around your age, at the Winchester market and they had stuck with you. Sihtric was set to return to Winchester that evening and you kept the phrase turning in your mind as you awaited his return. You had returned to Winchester castle and completed your duties for your Lady, when word soon came of the return of Uhtred and his men. And Lady Aethelflaed being the staunchest support of your relationship, prepared for you to finish your duties and have an excuse to leave her company. You had nothing but thanks for her, she did not need to help you as she did, but you were forever grateful to her for it.

So, you waited, under a particular tree in some secluded gardens just outside the busy centre of the city. Secluded enough for a secret lover’s meeting. And you did not have to wait long for Sihtric to arrive, and he never failed to make your skin flush and your stomach flip with how he greeted you. Thick arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you into his embrace, burying his face into your neck. Like he was reminding himself you were real.

“Missed me?” you laughed, blushing as he peppered kisses over your cheeks before finally reaching your lips.

“What do you think, my lady?” he whispered, following his path of kisses back over your face again.

You could only giggle in response; he made you feel like you were the only person in his entire world when he held you like this. But those kisses were not enough for you. Not right now. He had been gone for a few weeks, almost a month, and that amount of time had not dulled your need for him.

Your hand found the back of his neck and kept him close as he set you back down onto the ground. Not hesitating to push your lips onto his in a much more aggressive kiss and Sihtric was quick to meld his lips to yours. Facial hair tickling your skin as he walked you back towards the tree behind you. Hands resting on your waist tight, quickly taking control of the kiss as he usually did.

But before long, he pulled back and you could not help the sigh that left your lips and Sihtric only smiled in response.

“You know why, my lady, I do not want to-” he began but you pressed a finger to his lips.

You knew what he would say, that he did not want to ‘taint your virtue’.

“I heard something today, you know, that might persuade you,” you whispered, pressing a single kiss to the curve of his jaw, and you could see him roll his eyes. But he waited for you to continue.

“I heard…that it stays innocent if we remain clothed,” you continued, and Sihtric pulled back a little, but you chased his lips and pulled him down for another kiss.

But this time you tried to move things further, your hands now gripping into his shirt and pulling him tighter to your body. And he relented, until your hands began to delve lower.

“Not yet, my lady…” he whispered and when you opened your mouth to speak again, he silenced you with a final kiss.

Three weeks later, a note arrived at your rooms with the name of an inn and nothing else written upon it. Which meant only one thing, Sihtric was leaving again. You had no duties remaining, so you wasted no time in grabbing your cloak and hurrying out of a little-known door to the castle. The walk to the inn felt like it took forever, when it was mere minutes with how quiet the city was now. The whole situation was bittersweet. You were excited to see Sihtric as always, but you knew this meant he was going to be gone for who knows how long.

When you arrived at the inn, you were greeted immediately by Finan who only nodded and led you quickly to where Sihtric was roomed. You appreciated the help of course, the less time spent in the more public areas of an inn was better. Finan led you upstairs and knocked once on what you assumed was Sihtric’s door before leaving you to wait.

Thankfully, your lover did not take long to answer, tugging you inside and shutting the door quickly. He was quick to pull you into his arms. Sihtric was one for showing, rather than telling. Physical touch over poetic words.

You were pulled to the bed and Sihtric was quick to have you straddling his lap, a place you had been quite a few times before. His hands on your waist, holding you in place as his lips found yours. The kiss was hungrier than the one he had greeted you with only a few weeks ago and the few you had shared in between. But he always was before he left you.

You wasted less time in trying to push things further and he was a little slower in stopping you this time. Your hands gripping his shirt and unlacing a few ties toward the top. Exposing his throat and collarbone to your lingering kisses. The groans you earned from his lips only spurring you on.

As if on instinct, your hips began to roll, giving into the passion that was coursing through every inch of your veins. Sihtric’s grip on your hips tightened momentarily before he began to help you move and you took that as a sign. You got bold, kissing and nipping softly at his neck and smiling when he did not stop you.

But your joy was short-lived.

“My lady…we should not...” he groaned, the roughness in his tone telling you something very different.

“Sihtric, what I said still stands. We remain clothed, it remains innocent,” you whispered, now kissing from his neck and up to the shell of his ear.

You could feel his resolve faltering. But not quite enough. Sihtric pulled back from you and held your face in his hands.

“When I return, we will talk, my love, I swear it.”

A month, that was how long he had been gone, and you were getting more concerned by the day. Uhtred had followed Alfred and the Saxons to battle with the invading Danes and no news of the outcome had returned to Winchester. And no news was worse than bad news. Not knowing if any of them lived or were hurt or worse. Lady Aethelflaed could see you were concerned and did her best to keep you distracted but when you were alone, you could only wonder what the truth was.

Before he had left, Sihtric had asked you to meet him at the same inn as before and that he would send word the moment he stepped foot in Winchester. Now, it was simply a waiting game.

Days later, such word arrived, and you did not even try to hide the way you rushed from the castle. Lady Aethelflaed made excuses for your sudden departure, as she always did. You near ran to the inn, pushing past patrons and finding Sihtric hidden away in a corner. Without a word, he took your hand and pulled you back towards a room he had already paid for.

The moment that door shut, you were in his arms. Sihtric pressed your back to the door the second the latch clicked closed and his lips found your neck immediately. His beard had grown in the time had been gone and the rough hairs only added to the sensations against your skin.

You can tell he is so lost in his pleasure as he slips his leg between yours, spreading them apart ever so slightly. It is only when you begin to roll your hips against him that he stops.

“You promised we would talk…” you mumbled, the sudden absence of his touch leaving your mind a little foggy.

“I did.”

Sihtric was torn. As much as he wanted more, craved more, there was a part of him that felt guilty at the idea of, for want of a better word, defiling you. As far as he had been concerned, you were good and pure. He could not take that away from you.

“I will say it and keep saying it. It is innocent if we remain clothed…” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you moved to kiss him again, gripping his shirt and pulling him back tight against you.

And you kept saying those words. As you kissed down his jaw, his neck and all the while moving your hands lower from his back to his waist and finally gripping the firm flesh of his backside.

All those things combined had something snap in him. A low, almost whimpered groan leaving him as he pressed himself more forcefully against you. The wood of the door scratching at your back. What you didn’t expect was his hand to grip your thigh and pull it to his waist. Gone was the soft gentleman that had been so averse to such intimacies. Replaced now with a man slowly being consumed by his need and desires.

“I promise…it will be innocent still…” Were the last words that left your lips before they were replaced with moans. His hips rutting up into yours in an almost desperate rhythm, searching for some sort of friction to relieve the rush of blood to his cock. Your words were breaking his resolve piece by piece, but he no longer cared.

But you were not quite ready to relinquish all control. You had spent so long breaking that steadfast resolve of his, that you were not about to falter at the last stretch.

Your hand slipped down his body, palming him over the fabric of his trousers and relishing the sigh that he breathed against your neck as he finally got some of the friction he needed. Your movements were slow, giving him some but not quite enough for him to find release.

“Please…” he mumbled against your neck, barely loud enough for you to hear. So, you played on it, slowing your hand further and asking him to repeat himself.

“Please, my love, just…please,” he barely knew what he was saying, but he knew that his resolve was nothing. He needed you; he wanted you.

You did not let him see the smile that tugged at your lips as you sped up your movements, working his length until he was panting and huffing against your throat. His own hand had found its way beneath your skirts and had them pushed up to your waist. Now it was your turn to moan out, as his fingers dipped quickly beneath your small clothes and between your already slick folds. There was little need for such touches, you were already more than wet and ready for him, but he wanted to feel you. Sihtric had only allowed himself such a pleasure with you once before and he vowed now to never deny himself again.

“Sihtric..” you moaned out as his thumb found your pearl, practised movements creating a steady rhythm that had your head falling back against the door and your hand losing rhythm over his cock.

But he did not mind one bit, your words playing over and over in his mind. If you believed it, then it must be true. “It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

His hand on your thigh tightened as the fingers buried in your cunt pulled away. Your whine at the loss of contact was cut short when your heard the rustle of fabric as he untied his trousers. Pushing them down just enough to free his now painfully hard cock. His lips were gentle against yours as he slowly pushed inside, the stretch painful, but not enough to make you want to stop.

And much like before, feeling you clench and relax around him made him wonder why he had denied himself this. You wanted it just as he did. His thrusts began gentle, easing himself inside and giving you time to adjust. You appreciated the gesture, but you wanted…no…needed more.

“Faster, please…”

That was all he needed. His hands gripping your thighs and lifting you higher up the door, reminding you of the strength that was held in such a soft shell. The new angle was enough to have you moaning his name, over and over as his hands held you firm against the door. His rhythm picking up momentum as he chased your release and his. There was no concern for how loud you were being, his name being chanted over and over again as he pounded his hips into you. His own grunts and whimpers muffled by the skin of your neck.

Soon, release found you. Your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you sighed out what sounded like his name, but your voice was too pleasure filled to tell. But Sihtric was far from done. Planting one hand against the door and focusing solely on finding his own release. Which came soon enough, the way your walls clenched round him in the aftershocks of your orgasm was enough to having him painting your insides with a soft groan.

He slowed himself to still, pressing kisses over your skin until he reached your lips. The two of you remained there for a while, simply taking in each other’s presence.

The next morning came, and it was the first time you had spent the night sleeping at Sihtric’s side. But you could think of nowhere else to be. Sihtric soon led you downstairs and you were both greeted by his friends, who all turned to you with what could only be described as smug grins. What they all said next, would only be the beginning of their teasing.

“It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

Tags: @foxyanon @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @legitalicat @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @alexagirlie

You guys are the reason this got written so you deserve to be tagged!

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric kjarntansoon x reader #the last kingdom #reader insert #x reader #sihtric kjartansson smut #arnas fedaravicius

139 notes · View notes

clawbehavior · 1 month

Text

we're five episodes into Shogun, which means we're halfway through the series and all the major plotlines have been introduced and the characters characterized. and i'm starting to notice things.

namely, toranaga is becoming increasingly unlikeable. it started when he abandoned blackthorne to die after being saved by the man hours earlier, but it reached its peak with the return of the young heir's mother and the reveal that she's using the council against toranaga to protect her son. because then what is toranaga going to war for? we were told via the dead king's widow that toranaga needs to protect the young heir against the council, but clearly that's not true. so what's he doing? it bothered me that toranaga could be so kind to the young heir, playing with him and advising him, while neglecting his own son, whose insecurity around his father was so transparent that he was easily manipulated into starting a war. but then i wondered if toranaga was showing his true self (his third heart) to his son. that scene where he says "you categorize everyone as enemies and friends when you only have yourself" implies that he sees everyone as a potential enemy, which can only happen if his self-interests are at odds with everyone else's. seeing the end of episode five, i think toranaga is not what he seems. we know he can be duplicitous. he plays uncle and nephew against each other so easily, getting rid of the problem of their growing power by doing so. i think the falcon motif that's ever present in the show represents toranaga, flying against the sun so his prey can't see him until it's too late (episode one). he's fooling everyone, including his allies, which brings me to my next point.

mariko's story is not going to end well. i didn't know why this was a limited series with no chance of a season two until we got her backstory. mariko is straight up suicidal, just looking for a purposeful/honorable way to do it. if blackthorne can see this within days of meeting her, across a huge cultural divide and despite language differences, then toranaga has clocked this about her too, which doesn't bode well for her life. the mariko-blackthorne-husband love triangle subplot serves a deeper function of revealing her psyche to us. she can't let go of her feelings of injustice and dishonor from her family's deaths. (the flashback we get of her past shows her father's haunted expression because that's how she remembers the event, with horror rather than disgust for his actions.) this is why she tells blackthorne the truth about her family when ordered to by her husband, even though blackthorne tells her to lie and tell him something else because her husband won't know. mariko can't let go of what happened to her family (and her husband doesn't let her). she's been spiritually dead for ages and the return of her husband from the dead not only means she cheated, which someone with her honor code can't live with, it means she cannot be happy with blackthorne. her tragic past coupled with her strong feelings towards honor/dishonor makes her easy for toranaga to use, though it's unclear for what.

interestingly, mariko and blackthornes' opposing ideologies are why they survived and found each other. mariko resists quietly, inside her soul (the eightfold fence), turning to her Christian faith and becoming devout and learned in Portuguese to speak with the priests. this is how she ends up as blackthorne's translator, a position of power and later romance. blackthorne, in contrast, resists outwardly and every step of the way. that scene where toranaga tells him to give up because he's outnumbered and blackthorne replies "unless i win" captures his character perfectly. he's going to fight until the last second, which is why he survives the journey to Japan, and why he gets separated from his men and integrated into a foreign culture, and why he steers the ship to safety rather than being left behind to die. that stubbornness to live shows up as a tendency for breaking all the rules, the result of which is meeting mariko and unintentionally getting her to fall in love with him. it's so fascinating how their ideologies have set them apart from their own people and brought them together while indicating their incompatibility.

the show does a good job of layering characters and keeping them consistent, so i have faith that they'll return to yabushige's scary character. him torturing a sailor to death in pursuit of an existential question in a way so barbaric that it scares even the villagers did an excellent job in setting the tone of the show in episode one and setting the show apart from other historic period dramas. so it's disappointing to see him turn into a conniving goofball. hopefully this is a short term thing.

i haven't been so intrigued by the political machinations within a show in a long while, probably since GoT. can't wait to see how the rest of it plays out

gif below courtesy of @yocalio. look at toranaga's face shadowed in the sunlight. we don't fully know him.

#shōgun #fx shogun #shogun spoilers #shogun #toda mariko #john blackthorne #yoshii toranaga #analysis

86 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 8 months

Text

In the Cold, Cold Night, Chapter Two:

pairing: cowboy/frontier!joel miller x oc (Dorothea) / unrequited tommy miller

rating: E (18+ only, western stuff, innocence kink if you squint? more just period-realistic virginity vibes from dorothea, buckle riding (i had to), secret relationship, talks of religion/sinning)

wc: 3.5k

series masterlist | series playlist

What started out as an exciting morning—the thought of heading over to Joel’s house giving Dorothea a pep in her step—quickly dwindled into something more busy than she hoped.

After having to spend the morning tending to Robert and Paul’s hangover at the request of her father, the two young men going out of their way to take advantage of her obedience by demanding a special breakfast, she was sent out into the yard to supervise her youngest brothers, Bo, Ed, and James, as they cleaned and refilled every single trough they had as a punishment for skipping church the sunday prior. Dorothea didn’t have to do much but sit, the momentary break giving her a chance to catch up on her latest knitting project—a blanket for a childhood friend's newborn.

The last nail in the coffin was her mother’s request to join her at the church for her prayer group meeting—though, it was less of a request and more of an obligation given how devout her mother was.

She sat in that tiny, sweltering hot church with a hand fan batting air at her face, her eyes shut as the women around her seemingly prayed for every single person in town, her mind lost in sinful thought about what occurred in Joel’s kitchen the night before. It wasn’t until the pretty, young, school teacher took her turn praying that she actually listened, the sound of Joel’s name slipping from her lips piquing her interest.

“Dear lord,” she started, her voice honey sweet. “I wanna pray for a young man and his daughter, Joel and Sarah, that just moved into town. I pray that you give him the means to lead her in your path, lord. Pray you protect ‘em. Amen.”

Though any good Christian woman would’ve said an “amen” before moving on to whatever the next person was praying about, Dorothea was occupied with jealousy, her stomach turning sour at the thought of some pretty, red-haired young woman caring so much for Joel that she talked to God about him.

Did they know each other well? Did Joel lay the same moves on this pretty school teacher that he did on her? Why did it matter?

Her mind ran miles in the time it took for the meeting to end, each of the women filing out of the church-house and into the dry heat.

“Alright, let’s go on home and get supper started,” Jessa said, looping her arm with her daughter’s. “Know it ain’t good to gossip, but…ya hear that teacher lady? Prayin’ like a saint.”

“Yep,” Dorothea nodded.

“Ain’t that that boy y’like? Joel?” she asked.

“Never said I liked’m,” she said.

“Right,” Jessa smirked. “Regardless, I’ll see what gossip I can get outta the ladies at church. See if maybe his boots’ve found a home under her bed.”

“Mama,” she scolded in a gasp, shaking her head as they continued down the road.

“Alright, I’ll quit,” she said, patting her daughter's hand. “Must be cute. Got all these pretty ladies fawnin’ over him.”

“Mama, you said you’d quit,” Dorothea recalled with a flat tone.

“Alright, I’m done for good,” she promised with a smirk. “For now.”

It was late in the afternoon by the time they got home and started out on dinner, just some cornbread, mashed potatoes, and chicken.

While Robert and Paul were back off to the saloon, the younger boys stayed home—James and Ed playing out back with Sarah who’d come by sometime while Dorothea and Jessa were gone, and Bo who stayed to help his mother and sister with supper.

“Who’s ‘at out front?” John Mackey walked into the kitchen where Bo, Dorothea, and Jessa were sitting at the table peeling and chopping up potatoes.

“Who?” Jessa asked, her brows lacing as she leaned over to look out of the dusty window, the silhouette of a grown man dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt catching her eye. “Oh, that must be Sarah’s daddy.”

“Is it?” Dorothea sprung up from her chair and walked over to the window, practically pressing her nose to the glass to get a good look at him in all his sweaty glory.

“Bo, go on out back and call Sarah in,” Jessa ordered.

“Dot, go on and invite ‘em in for a cup ‘a water. Swelterin’ out there,” John added, taking his seat at the table.

“Yes sir,” she nodded, biting her lip as she practically ran out of the house, the screen door whacking the wooden frame behind her as she jogged down the steps of the porch. “You here for Sarah?”

“One ‘a the reasons,” he smiled, meeting her halfway between the fence and the porch. He stopped just short of touching her, his eyes meeting hers before traveling down her frame. “Lookin’ awfully pretty today.”

“Must’a known you were comin’ by,” she smirked. “Sorry I couldn’t sneak out today.”

“S’alright, got caught up with workin’ anyways,” he shrugged, squinting at the sun behind her.

“I could…sneak out later,” she shrugged, lifting her hand to ghost over his chest before deciding against it. “After dark.”

“Sounds risky,” he smiled, reaching forward to loop his pointer finger with hers. “Don’t want your daddy showin’ up on my doorstep with a shotgun.”

“He won’t know,” she assured. “Sleeps like a rock after supper.”

“I’d have to come get ya,” he said. “Ain’t safe to be walkin’ around after dark by yourself.”

“You gonna take me ridin’ on that pretty horse you got?” she purred.

“I could,” he nodded, his eyes falling to her lips, the pink hue calling his name. He shook his head at her affect on him and took a necessary step back. “Am I blushin’?”

“Just a little,” she chuckled before remembering why she came outside in the first place. “My, uh, my daddy wanted me to invite you in for some water.”

“That’s awfully kind of him,” he replied, looking over her shoulder at his daughter as she stepped through the front door. “I’ll have to take him up another time, got supper goin’ back home.”

“But tonight?” she asked, trying not to look too hopeful.

“I’ll be here waitin’ if y’want me to,” he assured.

“I want you to,” she affirmed, clasping her hand with his and squeezing it before letting it go, Sarah’s boots crunching on the dirt behind her pulling her away from him.

“Hi, daddy,” she smiled, hugging her father’s hip. “Time for supper?”

“Yep,” he nodded, turning his eyes back to Dorothea. “I’ll see ya, ma’am.”

She smiled smittenly at him as he tipped his hat at her before turning to walk Sarah to his horse that was tied up on the fence post. She admired the pull of his shirt across his back as he hoisted the little girl up onto the saddle before climbing up himself and trotting off down the road.

“Where you off to?” Tommy asked from the sofa as Joel tried to sneak out of the house around midnight.

“What’re you doin’ up?” Joel asked, shifting his weight to one hip as he stayed standing right by the front door. “Drunk?”

“Not tonight,” he said, somewhat forlorn. “Just thinkin’…’bout that Dorothea.”

“What about her?” Joel asked, hoping that he wasn’t giving anything away with his soft scowl.

“I like her,” he said. “She’s quick, pretty, soft. Kinda woman ya settle down with.”

“Mm,” Joel grunted, nodding his head.

“Just thinkin’ ‘bout whether m’ready to settle down,” Tommy continued.

“You’re young,” Joel said, shrugging his shoulders. “Be young.”

“You’re always naggin’ at me to settle down, now y’want me to be young?” Tommy chuckled. “No pleasin’ you.”

“I just ain’t sure you’re ready t’give it all up yet,” he reasoned. “No need to go breakin’ any hearts until ya know for certain.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Tommy nodded, a soft, tired smile on his face. “Where y’goin’?”

Joel turned sheepish.

“Is Joel Miller goin’ to see a woman?” Tommy teased. “Bordello?”

Joel only grunted, considering it less than a lie.

“Well, good on you,” Tommy nodded. “Need me t'stay up?”

“Just watch Sarah,” he said, walking back to the front door. “No drinkin’.”

“No drinkin’,” Tommy agreed, gesturing at the door. “Now go on. Lord knows y’need it.”

Joel offered up a smile and nodded before grabbing his hat off the hook and heading outside. The moon was high in the sky, the stars shimmering like diamonds above him as he walked to the small stable and walked his horse, Callus, out, saddling it up before climbing on and trotting off down the long, lonely road with his pistol on his hip for safe keeping.

When he pulled up to Dorothea’s house, he spotted a shadow sitting on the front porch with a lantern. Pulling the reins, he got Callus to stop and waited as the shadow stood up and ran down the dirt path to the gate.

“Took ya long enough,” Dorothea said, handing him her lantern as she climbed onto Callus behind him, her arms wrapping around his middle as he hung the light from the saddlebag.

“My apologies, ma’am,” he said, turning his head to glance back at her with a smile. “Y’ready for an adventure?”

“Y’takin’ me somewhere special?” she asked, giving him a squeeze.

“Yep,” he nodded and turned his eyes forward, clicking to get Callus to turn around and trot off in the direction he came from.

“Where we goin’?”

“S’a surprise,” he said, moving one hand from the reins to rest over hers on his stomach.

“What if I don’t like surprises,” she smiled, resting her cheek on his shoulder blade.

“Well, guess ya ain’t gonna like it, then,” he drawled, lacing her fingers with his. “What’d you get up to today?”

Dorothea sighed and shook her head. “Too much.”

“We got time,” he smiled.

“Just a lot of housework,” she shrugged. “Takin’ care ‘a my drunk brothers.”

“Your daddy don’t care what they do?”

“Don’t seem like it,” she said. “Bet I’ll have t’nurse ‘em back to health tomorrow, too.”

“What’d ya do after that?”

“Went with my mama to the church.”

“Didn’t know you were the holy type,” he teased.

“I ain’t,” she replied, splaying her hand across his lower stomach. “But my mama is, and I love her, so…off to prayer I go.”

“What’d ya pray about?”

“You’re awfully chatty tonight,” she teased.

“Would’ya like me to shut up?”

“No,” she hummed, closing her eyes as the warm breeze brushed her face. “Not yet, at least.”

“Alright,” he chuckled. “You gonna answer, then?”

“I didn’t pray,” she said. “My mind was…other places.”

“Like where?”

“Like back in your kitchen.”

“Not sure God would approve of those thoughts,” he said, turning to glance down at her hand inching dangerously close to his lap.

“You know that school teacher?” she asked, lifting her head up to stare at the back of his neck. “The young one?”

“I met her a few times,” he said. “She teaches Sarah.”

“Well…you’re in her prayers,” she mumbled, still sickened with jealousy.

“Ain’t that nice ‘a her,” he smiled, picking up on the dryness in her tone. “She ain’t in mine.”

“You pray?” Dorothea quirked an eyebrow at the back of his head.

“Not much,” he said. “‘N only ‘bout the things that matter.”

“Well then, you must matter t'her,” she said. “Any reason?”

“If you’re tryin’ to ask somethin’, darlin’, I ain’t pickin’ up on it.”

“Mmhm,” she rolled her eyes and smiled at his playful ignorance. “Wouldn’t blame ya. She’s a pretty woman.”

“I’ve seen prettier,” he said.

“Like who?”

Joel chuckled and shook his head.

“Now who’s playin’ dumb,” he smiled. “Y’know you’re the prettiest damn thing within a thousand miles of here. Maybe more."

"Maybe?" she repeated. "Why's it a maybe?

"Ain't seen that much ‘a the world yet.”

“Guess I’ll take it, then,” she grinned, nuzzling back into the warmth of his back. “You're pretty, too. In a…rough kinda way.”

“Well, ain’t you sweet,” he chided, squeezing her hand.

“Meant it,” she said.

“Guess I’ll take it,” he echoed.

Joel and Dorothea rode out for an hour, the town fading behind them as they wandered through the Texan plains and desert. Callus seemed to know exactly where they were heading off to, Joel's hands hardly doing any steering as the horse trotted down a ditch and then back up. Dorothea watched as a sparse line of trees came into view, their once-green leaves yellow dying under the blazing sun.

Soon, the sight of a riverbank just past the trees caught Dorothea’s eyes as Joel got Callus to stop. He felt her hop down off the horse before he climbed off himself, watching her as she started off towards the trees. Her feet were quick as she wandered through the tall, dry grass to the glimmer of water just a few yards away, her head turning back to grin at Joel.

“This your surprise for me?” she asked, kicking her boots off once she reached the soft, wet, and darker dirt by the water, her dress scrunched in her hands to lift the hem as she leaned a foot out to kick the water, testing the temperature.

“You like it?” Joel asked, grunting softly as he sat down on the cool ground, his knees hugged close to his chest by his strong arms.

Dorothea turned around and smiled brightly, nodding her head as she walked over to sit beside him. “S’real nice.” A comfortable silence fell over them for a few beats, Dorothea’s eyes swept up in this small oasis just outside her town limits, it’s sparse but flourishing trees, the shimmer of the water, the starlight overhead. “Y’know…I don’t think I’ve been this far from home in—actually, I’ve never been this far from home.”

“How’s it feel?” he asked, brushing his shoulder against hers, his eyes fixed on her profile as she gazed up at the stars.

“Feels nice,” she whispered back, her demeanor turned gentle as awe took hold of her. “I haven’t looked up at the stars ‘n a long time. Silly. They’re right there, every night, all ya gotta do is look up, but…I never do.”

“Y’should,” he said, reluctantly turning his eyes away from her and up at the stars twinkling overhead in the pitch black sky.

“D’you?” she asked, turning to look at him, watching him nod thoughtfully.

“Most nights,” he replied. “Sometimes I get worn out ‘fore they come out, but if I’m up…I like t’go out ‘n watch ‘em. Puts everythin’ into perspective.”

“D’ya know anythin’ about ‘em?” she asked, drawing his eyes to hers.

“Like what?” he chuckled.

“Like…their names…n’things like that.”

“No,” his amusement faded into a sweet smile, his head shaking softly. “Don’t know any names or nothin’.”

She frowned slightly and nodded, turning to look back up at them for a minute before lifting her finger to point one out.

“That one,” she said, drawing Joel’s attention, his eyes following the line of her arm to the tip of her finger. “That pink lookin’ one…she’s Betty.”

“S’that right?” he chuckled, his heart swelling with endearment.

“Yeah—Betty,” she nodded.

Joel took his time to scan the sky for a star of his own, his finger lifting to point at a bright blue speck.

“He can be Butch,” Joel said, giving her a smile.

“Betty and Butch,” she agreed, turning to meet his eyes, their mouths just a few inches apart.

Joel’s eyes wandered first, studying the soft plushness of the lips he’d tasted the night prior.

“Y’gonna kiss me again?” she whispered, a smug smile on her face.

“Just admirin’,” he said, flickering his eyes back to hers. “‘Less you want me to.”

Dorothea bit her lip as she stayed smiling at him, not willing to break contact first. Instead, she kept her eyes glued to his as she sat up and hiked up the skirt of her dress, Joel instinctively dropping his knees to guide her as she tossed her leg over his lap to straddle it. His hands rested on her waist, his eyes locked on hers as his lips parted in awe at the sight of her moonlit form on top of him.

“I want you t’do more than kiss me,” she said, draping her arms around his shoulders and rocking experimentally against his belt buckle. Joel let out a soft groan as his eyes fell to his lap, his hands bunching up the hem of her dress until he could see her work against him, bare and wet.

“Jesus,” he swore, his eyes shooting up to meet hers as she let out a soft moan, her head tipping back. “Feel good?”

“Feels—like heaven,” she moaned, lifting her head up to look at him through scrunched brows and lidded eyes, her hips continuing their shaky rock back and forth. Joel’s hands dropped her dress to fit on either side of her face, pulling her down to meet his lips, her moans flowing straight into his open mouth as he swiped his tongue over hers.

“Just like ‘at,” he whispered. “Keep goin’.”

“Feels so good,” she whined, her thighs trembling. “Feels like…I don’t know.”

“Just keep goin’,” he cooed. “S’gonna feel good.”

Dorothea’s head fell into the crook of his neck as she inched closer to a euphoria she had no idea even existed, her moans joining the crickets chirping in the background.

“Joel—“

“C’mon, darlin’,” he rasped softly in her ear, his hands gripping the globes of her ass through the cotton of her dress, guiding her hips against the cool metal buckle as they grew unsteady. “C’mon.”

“Oh,” she drew in a sharp gasp and held it as she seized up with her climax, the warmth and pleasure shooting through every nerve in her body causing her to cling to Joel for grounding. “Jesus—felt so good.”

Joel smiled, kissing her temple until she lifted her head up to look at him with a lazy, sated grin.

“That was fun,” she said. “S’it always like that?”

“Should be,” he smiled, his chest practically puffing with pride as he lifted a hand up to her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her smile. “So damn beautiful.”

Dorothea leaned in, brushing the tip of her nose against his before pecking him softly.

“Makin’ me crazy,” Joel added in a mumble against her lips. “All I think about.”

“S’that true?” she asked, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled, nodding at her.

“Glad I ain’t the only one, then,” she grinned, kissing his cheek. “What can I do t’make you feel that good?”

Joel sighed, the strain against his jeans aching, but there wasn’t time for him tonight.

“Need t’get ya back home,” he said.

Dorothea frowned and nodded, dropping her eyes to his lap.

“I wanna, though,” she said. “Another time. Wanna learn how t’make you feel good.”

Joel’s cock twitched at her request.

“Promise,” she said. “Next time we get a chance…promise you’ll teach me.”

“I promise,” he nodded, his voice a breathy rasp. “God, you’re makin’ me crazy, darlin’. Let’s go ‘fore I get us into trouble.”

“Can’t have that,” she chuckled, standing up and offering him her hand as if he needed it. Joel took it anyways, just barely letting her pull to help him off the ground, his hands dusting the back of his jeans off.

“Your carriage awaits n’ all that,” Joel said, nudging his chin towards the horse.

“That make you my knight in shinin’ armor?” she teased as she walked over to her boots, slipping them back on her dirty feet before stomping through the grass back to Callus.

“Guess so,” he smiled to himself as he followed her. “Long as you're the princess.”

“Hm,” she turned to face him as she reached Callus, waiting for his help in climbing on. “Never saw myself as much of a princess.”

“Never saw myself as much of a knight ‘n shinin’ armor,” he countered. “Yet here I am, helpin’ you onto the horse even though I know y’know how t’do it your damned self.”

“Maybe I am a princess, then,” she said, earning a chuckle.

“Maybe I’m a knight.”

Joel lingered longer than he probably should’ve, Dorothea’s lips causing him to lose track of time as they stood in front of her farm, her hands tangled in his hair, his gripping onto the fabric covering her waist.

“Need’a go inside,” he mumbled against her jaw as his lips trailed down to her pulse.

“Then let me go,” she said, smiling up at the sky as Joel only held her tighter.

“Can’t,” he rasped close to her ear. “Taste too good.”

“Joel,” she moaned, guiding his lips back to hers. “I wanna taste you, too.”

“Mm,” he groaned into their kiss, his hand smoothing down her back to cup her ass. “Tomorrow.”

“Got bible study t’morrow night,” she said, watching him as he pulled back to look at her through lust-darkened eyes, his lips bowed and parted.

“After,” he said, smiling sinfully. “Give ya somethin’ to repent for.”

“You gonna take me straight t’hell, ain’t ya?” she smirked, wiping the shine off the plump of his bottom lip. “Alright. T’morrow.”

“Go on inside ‘fore your daddy comes out with a pistol,” he smiled, patting her hip as she started to head past the fence. “Have a goodnight, Dot.”

Dorothea smiled at the nickname, turning around to walk backwards, her hand lifting to her lips to blow him a kiss. “Y’too, Joel.”

Neither one of them got much of any sleep that night, and yet neither cared. They’d never sleep again if it meant sharing their nights together, under the dark veil of the night sky, the stars dancing above them, their bodies and minds intertwined.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x oc #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #itccn

161 notes · View notes

bloodandthestars · 7 months

Text

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒.

priest!au suguru geto x fem!reader

tw/tags: mentions of the Bible, Christianity (it is solely picked for plot nothing more, nothing less), etc :: introduction to JUDAS, kinktober drabble series (mdni)

wc: 1.3k :: masterlist. :: next part.

The Geto family was a devout and honorable one. Generations upon generations did the men of the house dedicate their lives to reach the word of the Heavenly Father. Suguru’s route was no different— crooked, but narrow on the holy path.

He’d become the father of the church months ago, to herd the congregation into a fruitful community. Pressure weighed heavy at his shoulders, but in the end, he knew it was for the best. Wasn’t it?

“And while we are tempted by the devil in more ways than one.” His smooth voice went on. “It’s the persistence, the strength, and the true power of the Lord’s light that keeps us on the divine path.”

Suguru takes a glance to his notes, a finger moving from one page to the next. “As Peter 5:10 states: And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

It earns him a few hums in agreement and ‘Amens’ from the crowd. He takes a breath. “So know that the obstacles in your path now, the ones you pray to be vanquished, may be the key to your own glory. For your glory, is His.”

The crowd rumbles in cheers and claps. Suguru gives the room a smile. With a slow glance around the room, he takes in all their excited faces full of hope to hear the Holy word through him. It was these same old faces he had gotten used to seeing in the worn pews of the church. The same ones he’d run around with his best friend as a child when services were over. Everything remained as it was, as it was suppose to be.

So that’s why his breath unconsciously hitched when meeting your gaze.

Your eyes were new. He’s never seen them cry in the name of repentance, never seen them look at him like he was the Messiah himself. Not even now in the mists of a worshiping crowd. Your expression was poise, calm— orbs slender in observation.

You cut the staring short, looking ahead instead. It’s only then when he can hear the clapping back at full volume. Suguru blinks a few times to return, eyes going down to the timeline in his writings. “And with that, we’ll end today’s service with a prayer.”

The congregation bows their heads in unison. He catches how you were much slower in doing so. Keeping his eyes on you cautiously, he speaks a worthy word to his people. “O’ Might One, we thank you for allowing us to celebrate you on this day. Your spirit is poured out onto this place every Sunday morning and we could ask for nothing more...”

With the service finished, church goers socialize amongst one another. Greetings, catchings of last night’s game, news that the youngest born has ridden a bicycle for the first time. Suguru always had an ear to their happenings, not that he had much of a choice. As soon as his dress shoes hit the carpet floor, he’s instantly surrounded by a group of parishioners. As always, they wanted to make their priest happy and see him smile.

A older woman clasps his hand in hers, squeezing it with a pleasant expression. “An excellent sermon, as always Father Geto!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kasaki-”

“Did I tell you about little Callie’s recital?”

He chuckles. “Yes, last week. She had practice then, correct?”

“Oh yes! It was a dress rehearsal, her big debut was this last Saturday. She was so adorable in her purple tutu! And she only picked that because she’s growing out of that pink phase, little thing. Oh! Let me grab my phone-”

A low quality video later, one handshake leaves for another. “Pastor! Did you see the new restaurant down the street that they’re building up?”

“No? I don’t think I have.”

“Oh yeah, I think it’ll be a new fusion place. Never knew that they had stuff like that!” A hearty laugh comes straight from the man’s belly and Suguru’s obliged to laugh as well.

“We’ll have to see if we can get the church together for its opening.”

“I’ll see if I can put a word in.”

“There you go, Pastor!”

And another. “Father, did you ever get the chance to look at my inquiries on raising funds for the elementary school?”

“The box tops, yes?”

“Mhm! When will you get started?”

“We can have something up by Wednesday.”

Another. “Father Geto! I just have to get your opinion on this recipe for the potluck-”

Another. “Give your parents a big hug for me won’t you! It’s been so long since I’ve seen them-”

And another. “And this is little Devon! He’ll be staying with me for the summer and he’s already enjoying the kids church service-”

Hands come and go within his grasp as he speaks with each one of them as they trail out. His father told him it was a way to build trust and community, and who was he to argue with the face of the church?

As he wishes one of the elderly women goodbye, Suguru keeps a watchful eye on her when she goes down the stairs. He turns back, starting a little when he’s met with your presence incoming. His body straightens up and you stand in front of him. “Father Geto?”

“That it is.”

Your hand extends in his direction. “Beautiful service. You have many who think the same.”

His eyes lower to your hand, glancing up to you when he takes it. The larger one warms your grasp. He lets out a soft breath. “I appreciate the flattery.”

You raise a brow at him. “Can’t be flattery, after all, your admirers would disagree too.”

Your words earn another exhale, this time with a faint laugh behind it. His slender eyes keep to yours, can’t finding himself to look away. Curiosity eats at him to ask. “If you don’t mind my asking, but are you new in town?”

“I am.” You answer politely. “My mother grew up here, wanted me to see her roots.”

“I’ll be the one to tell you that her roots were made in quite a small place.”

You chuckle softly. “Oh I’m quite aware. Still, it was one of the things she wanted us to do together before she passed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

He watches you glance down at each other’s hands. Seeing that they’re still connected, the pastor pulls it away— hoping you wouldn’t notice how quick he did it. His eyes were lowered, so they had no choice but to follow upward. That meant scanning over your body and attire— a turtleneck dress and high boots with stockings. He straightens when his eyes reach your face. “And you are?”

You give him your full name, and he repeats it back to you. “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.” You repeat.

Eventually, you head to the church doors. He follows behind as you were the last to leave. You turn back to give a final glance and him a final goodbye. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Father.”

“Likewise. I hope you to see your return to the church soon.”

“Perhaps.”

Your gazes never leave each other when he goes to shut the doors. The wooden beings echo with their closed status, knocking the air back into his lungs. His brows furrow. Why did he take notice to your clothing?

You dress nice, that’s all. The father shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he goes to tidy the pews.

#writing #priest!geto #priest!suguru #geto suguru #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #priest au #a #getou suguru x reader

139 notes · View notes

cemeterything · 11 months

Note

was having a conversation earlier where my father commented on how most of the computer scientists he knows are also devout christians and he said he was surprised by that and all i could think of was your post about the mechanical and the divine. i doubt any of those random british white men are even remotely close to that line of reasoning but idk it just made me think of you

give me an hour with them and they'll start to Understand

378 notes · View notes

octuscle · 7 months

Note

As a Christian born and bred it's always been a constant thought of mine of what if I had been born into a different faith, how that would change the person I am. What if I slid the faith settings from Christian to Muslim?

Brother, if you change the attitude now, not much will change. Now you're not going to trim your dick, I guess. You will grow a beard. And your Muslim brothers will despise you as a convert a little less than an infidel. So, in fact, we have to intervene in your history. Your parents separated shortly after you were conceived. Your mother fell in love with a Syrian refugee for whose sake she converted to Islam and married him before you were born. So even though your gene pool is unchanged, your social and religious background is a completely Muslim one.

Your father was not particularly devout. But your mother and sisters had to learn early on that women are subservient to men. And you, as the prince of the family, were carried around by everyone. A wish? Already fulfilled! Fortunately, your father quickly found a job as an engineer and was able to finance everything you wanted. In return, however, you were trimmed to be macho right from the start. Politeness and respect towards your parents. But you never had to show respect to infidels in particular. This probably also explains your somewhat divided relationship to the observance of rules and laws.

Your home is the shisha bar, the gym and Hassan's barbershop. That's where you meet friends and where you do business. Let's say you make your money importing and exporting. Of different things. Mostly with the help of cousins in Syria, Lebanon and Turkey.

Except for the blond hair and your Swedish passport, you are one of your bros. Hardly a difference. Okay, maybe you're in the mosque a bit more often than them… But that's normal if you grew up with a convert as a mother.

By the way, I found your picture @truevikingblood-blog too.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #tank top

93 notes · View notes

see-arcane · 2 years

Text

Jonathan Harker: The ‘Absolute Love Corrupts Absolutely’ Villain That Almost Was*

*LONG before Francis Ford Coppola’s Cinematic Gary Oldman Fanfiction

Spoilers ahead for the Dracula Daily enjoyers, because I’m whipping out all my literary receipts on this.

I recently finished speed-rereading Dracula because I have no self-control. In doing so, I got a refresher on quite a few incendiary factors of the book that time had dulled in my memory.

1. There’s a TON of ‘I’m not like other girls!’ and ‘men good, women dainty,’ and ‘What no I’m not projecting, honest, I just really like the words manful, voluptuous, manful, aquiline, manful, God, and manful again. –Bramothy Stoker,’ so brace for that from basically the whole cast. I’m blaming it partly on Bram Flakes’ own prejudices, of which there are plenty, and the fact that he’d clearly never met a thesaurus in his life.

(I appreciate everyone’s mental revamp of Mina as the New Woman to Lucy’s Classic Damsel, but…oof. Everyone’s in for a harsh Period/Stoker Accurate reminder.)

2. Brammy Pajamas was either hanging around some exceptionally devout Christians to write some of the second/third act scenes with everyone basically thrashing and wailing and falling on their knees and clasping/kissing hands as they pray to/thank God, all while thinking it was perfectly natural behavior for these characters…or he legit had no clue how any kind of ordinary human being, Christian or otherwise, would react to the situations he puts them in.

(Seriously, it’s not even that everyone’s devout, it’s that they’re all written to act like they’re in a soap opera where the only direction they got was to be as hammy and histrionic as physically possible. You’ll know the scenes when you see them.)

3. Jonathan Harker has not only been done dirty by every adaptation since the book in terms of being a main character, along with being the character to spend the most time with Dracula in close quarters, period, and being the love interest for Mina—his whole character arc by the second half of the book is the most blazing hot, “If my beloved is destined for damnation, I’m heading to Hell with her, fuck all else,” shit I have ever read in classic literature, full stop.

Not Dracula. Not any character based on Dracula.

Jonathan fucking Harker is the OG archetype for Love Corrupts (Violently), and the canon story avoided him going full tragic villain by t h i s much. You want proof? Let’s go.

NOTE: MAIN SPOILERS STRAIGHT FROM THE BOOK, SHIELD YOUR EYES

Here’s the part most Harker fans scream over, myself included:

“To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many; just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks.”

Good shit, good shit! Jonathan was already prepared to risk falling to his death from a cliff or being eaten by wolves rather than stay in Castle Dracula for a bloodthirsty eternity with the ladies. But now? Mina is quite literally his, “You are worth Hell,” Beloved. But there’s more. Fast forward to one of Team Fuck-Up-That-Old-Undead-Man’s first head-on encounters with the Count. As they’re waiting, Jonathan gets impatient, declaring:

“I care for nothing now,” he answered hotly, “except to wipe out this brute from the face of creation. I would sell my own soul to do it!”

He says as much in front of his Christian+ buddies who, by now, had pretty fair reasons to believe in the legitimacy of Hell and all its demons. Van Helsing is definitely startled and seemingly talks him down from such an oath. Key word being seemingly. Because we jump forward again to a point where Mina, in full saintly forgiveness mode (and apparently selectively forgetting Van Helsing’s history lesson about Dracula’s pre-vampire days being ones of a slaughtering tyrant), saying that if/when they destroy the Count, oh, how happy his soul will be to be free of his torment on Earth, et cetera. Jonathan Harker has a rebuttal to share. Namely:

“May God give him into my hand just for long enough to destroy that earthly life of him which we are aiming at. If beyond that I could send his soul forever and ever to burning hell I would do it!”

God forgives. Jonathan Harker emphatically does not.

Onward again, and he speaks volumes by what he does not say. Chiefly, there’s a point where Mina, now in full martyr preparation should the worst happen, makes the boys swear an oath to destroy her body if/when she succumbs and dies to Dracula’s vampiric poisoning so she cannot rise again as one of his ladies. The boys swear. Mostly. What we get from Jonathan is…

“And must I, too, make such a promise, oh, my wife?”

“You too, my dearest.” (Note: The rest of her paragraph here is full of the most knife-twisting, utterly warped martyr ‘pep talk’ I’ve ever read, and I have no idea how she/Bramarama thought it would remotely convince Jonathan this was all a reasonable and chill thing she was talking about. Anyway.)

It’s important to note that absolutely nowhere in the ensuing text does Jonathan ever speak the promise out loud. He does read the goddamn Burial Service at Mina’s request, which he barely chokes his way through. But he never makes the oath.

Another jump ahead. They are on the hunt for Dracula and, alas, have just missed him at a key point. Most of the gang are shaking their fists at the sky, cursing up and down. And what is Jonathan doing? Well, to quote Jack Seward, just before the epiphany…

“We men were all in a fever of excitement, except Harker, who is calm; his hands are as cold as ice, and an hour ago I found him whetting the edge of the great Ghoorka knife which he now always carries with him. It will be a bad look-out for the Count if the edge of that ‘Kukri’ ever touches his throat, driven by that stern, ice-cold hand!”

And upon discovery of the Count slipping them…

“Harker smiled—actually smiled—the dark bitter smile of one who is without hope; but at the same time his action belied his words, for his hands instinctively sought the hilt of the great Kukri knife and rested there.”

For context, by this point Jonathan had already come at Dracula with said Kukri knife a while back, having nearly landed the blow after charging out of the pack and nearly fucking gutting the Count. For extra context, this is a Kukri knife:

He’s just been walking around with that. For half the book. Plotting.

And, with all of this in mind, we can only assume Jonathan had two plans of action in mind.

Plan A, follow Van Helsing’s lead.

…Not counting the moment he almost bit the Professor’s head off for saying he had to bring Mina along with him to Castle Dracula. Another good scene which includes his very succinct reaction to Van Helsing’s suggestion, even if he does have to agree in the end:

“Not for the world! Not for Heaven or Hell!”

Anyway. If the plan works out, cool. He gets to kill Dracula, Mina is saved. Best case scenario!

But then there’s the unspoken, explicitly unwritten (in case his pages need to be read), but heavily foreshadowed Plan B. They cannot destroy the Count, in time or otherwise. Mina is now either a corpse waiting to awake as a vampire, or a vampire already. The others, true to their vow, mean to destroy her.

Jonathan Harker, true only to Mina, in whatever form she may take, still has that Kukri. And the element of surprise. And a full acknowledgment of the realities of Heaven, Hell, and his holding Mina’s continued existence above them, his friends, his sanity, his humanity, and himself.

In short, all your tragically romantic Draculas can kindly go fuck themselves with a wooden stake. Jonathan Harker is the first and best gothic horror example of a person in love to the point of madness, damnation, and willingness to deceive or destroy anyone who would endanger the one he loves. The only reason we never got to see it in action was because Stoker had to tack on a happy ending. If he hadn’t?

The census would be less four unsuspecting heroes and plus two newlywed vampires.

The End.

Suck on it, Francis.

#Jonathan Harker is a good boy a lovely young man and he Can and Will Kill for His Wife :) :) :)#seriously there's a whole other essay to go with how gloriously fucked up-passionate this stance is within both the time it was written #and the novel itself which is SATURATED with God Christ and more God #for this fucker to have gone through what he did in the castle on top of all the very clear proofs of divine VS infernal goings-on #this dude is flipping the bird to all of it #the whole mess (be it of God or the Devil or fucking Dracula)#none of it ranks higher than Mina in his mind #my guy is fucked up and I love him #jonathan harker #dracula #mina murray #mina harker #dracula daily #spoilers

1K notes · View notes

girlactionfigure · 9 months

Text

We Are All Jews – Sgt. Roddie Edmonds

He defied the Nazi's orders.

Roddie Edmonds was a U.S. Army Master Sergeant who put his life on the line in a German POW camp to protect the Jewish soldiers under his command.

Roddie was a devout Christian from Tennessee who enlisted in the army in 1941 and was sent overseas. In 1944 he fought at the Battle of the Bulge, the last major German offensive campaign of the war. At that battle, Roddie and over a thousand of his men were captured and sent to a German POW camp, Stalag IX-A. In the camp, he was the senior noncommissioned officer and was responsible for 1275 American POWs.

On their first day at Stalag IX-A, the German commandant told Roddie that the next morning, all the Jewish soldiers should assemble outside their barracks. Roddie had heard rumors that European Jews were being sent to death camps, and he was determined to protect the Jewish servicemen under his command. Instead of following the Nazi’s orders, Roddie issued his own: ALL 1275 American POWs would assemble outside the barracks in the morning.

The next day, when the Nazi officer saw that all the soldiers were outside, he angrily demanded that Roddie identify the Jews. Roddie told his men that they would not obey the order. Then he turned to the commander and said, “We are all Jews here.”

Furious, the Nazi officer took out his pistol and threatened to shoot Roddie. “They cannot all be Jews!” he said, insisting again that Roddie identify the Jewish soldiers.

Even with a gun to his head, Roddie did not back down.

“WE ARE ALL JEWS,” he repeated. “If you shoot me, you’ll have to shoot all of us and after the war, you’ll be tried for war crimes.”

The Nazi backed down and the 200 Jewish soldiers in the group remained with their comrades until they were liberated.

Incredibly, Roddie never told anybody about his wartime heroism.

It wasn’t until long after Roddie’s death in 1985 that the story came out. His children, curious about their father’s wartime experiences, started reading the diary he’d kept in Stalag IX-A. Mostly it contained the names and addresses of the soldiers under his command.

Roddie’s son Chris started searching the names online and found an old article about Lester Tanner, who became a prominent lawyer in New York. In the article, Tanner said that he and many other Jewish soldiers owed their lives to Sergeant Roddie Edmonds. Amazed, Chris contacted other soldiers from Roddie’s unit, and pieced together the story of his father’s stubborn heroism in Stalag IX-A.

In 2015, Roddie Edmonds was honored by the Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem as Righteous Among the Nations. 26,000 non-Jews who saved Jews during the Holocaust have been so honored, but Sgt. Roddie Edmonds is the only U.S. serviceman on that list.

For bravely defying the orders of a Nazi officer to protect the Jewish soldiers in his care, we honor Master Sergeant Roddie Edmonds as this week’s Thursday Hero.

#Thursday Hero

86 notes · View notes

haggishlyhagging · 1 year

Text

My mother is elderly, with an incurable illness, and is a devout christian. And so, despite my distaste for organized religion, and despite our rocky relationship history, and knowing that none of her other children (all male) had any intention of visiting her on Mother’s Day, I went with her to church and for lunch after.

The sermon was about the strength of women. The theme of war permeated the service; songs about surviving the battle; a sermon to remind women that they too were “soldiers” in the great war against the ultimate enemy: Satan. And so the male minister exhorted the women of the church to be vigilant; to be strong; to FIGHT—only using faith and prayer.

My mother, no longer quite the picture of decorous womanhood she was raised to be, kept pointing out people she knew during the service and whispering in my ear about them. Rather boring stuff, until she got to one particular couple. “Their daughter was killed,” she whispered, shaking her head in sorrow. After the service, mom told me the rest of the story. The murdered daughter had been shot by her husband, who then shot their daughter, and finally turned the gun on himself.

Some have said: “The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.” I would like to amend that saying for a modern audience: “The greatest trick any man ever pulled was convincing the world that he wasn’t Satan.”

On some of my angrier days, I’m convinced that we are in the “last days” about which christians are endlessly prophesying. And that a spiritual war is indeed ongoing: not between good and evil, but between women and men. And while all the men are keeping the threat of violence as a weapon in their back pocket—they are warning the women that it’s a sin to use it in return.

#personal post #male violence #femicide #anti christianity

127 notes · View notes

catholic-character-tournament · 11 months

Text

Round 1 - Side A

Propaganda below ⬇️

Abuelita Alma Madrigal Propaganda:

There's a church in the Encanto as well as a priest and given how strong her grip is and how much of a control freak she is, I would very much doubt she'd allow people to believe in other miracles than Pedro's if she wasn't, herself catholic. Also I mean south american turn of the century family they're probably catholic.

Listen at least Alma is!!! The candle!! The importance of the church!!! The vibes are just there!!!! The idea of being a savior by sacrificing yourself (or at least your personality/grief) for your people? That’s SO catholic coded PLEASE

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler Propaganda:

wow marvel loves making catholic characters dress/look like demons

Kurt is a mutant who was born to mystique who looks a LOT like a devil (technically is half one but that cannon truth isn't real go back to bed), his mother dropped him off a cliff when he was born and he was picked up by a Romani group/circus (fuck old comics man) however he then narrowly escaped being sold to a freak show and found himself in a small German town. There he met a kind priest, who showed him God, and he quickly grew attached to the idea- However, it wasn't long before people began labeling him a demon and soon the whole town was against him with pitchforks and fire. Cornered and injured, Kurt thought this might be the end for him- maybe he would see heaven so long after finding it- but he was then saved by Charles Xavier who invited him to the X-Men. AND ITS BEEN SO MANY YEARS AND HE HAS BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH THERE. SO MUCH. SO GOD DAMN MUCH. BUT THE MOST AAAA THING TO ME CONCERNING HIS FAITH HE WHEN HE LITERALLY DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN BUT THEN BECAUSE OF DRAMA WITH HIS FATHER HAD TO BRING HIS FRIENDS IN WITH HIM FROM THE BEYOND. THEN WITH ALOT OF TROUBLE THEY FOUGHT HIS FATHER AND THE ONLY WAY KURT SAW TO STOP HIM WAS IN A MOVE THAT STRIPPED THEM BOTH OF THEIR SOULS AND PUT THEM BACK ON EARTH. SO KURT CANONICALLY HAS NOW LOST HIS ABILITY FOR ETERNAL PEACE, LOST HIS VERY SOUL, TO SAVE PEOPLE- AND ALSO TOLD NO ONE NOT EVEN HIS GAY LOVER WOLVERINE.

Nightcrawler is a mutant vigilante who looks like a classical demon. He can't even go to church without people panicking and trying to exorcize him. Despite it all, he's so full of faith and hope and compassion, and he wants to believe the best of everyone. Also, he's bffs with an extremely angry Jewish sword lesbian. That has nothing to do with anything, but it's important to me that you all know that.

I have a side blog and a tattoo about him and i really really want him to win

Wisecracking devil-appearing devout Catholic with the Best superpower (teleportation)? HECK YES

German Catholic circus acrobat who looks like a demon & can teleport through a hellish alternate dimension with a puff of sulfur. Character of all time.

hes catholic and his dad is the devil. what could be funnier than that. also hes my silly little guy.

#encanto #alma madrigal #abuela madrigal #x men #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #marvel #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr polls #tumblr bracket

202 notes · View notes