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#either for personal or religious reasons
letitbehurt · 1 month
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Whumper forcing Whumpee to get drunk.
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wonder-worker · 2 months
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"[Elizabeth Woodville's] piety as queen seems to have been broadly conventional for a fifteenth-century royal, encompassing pilgrimages, membership of various fraternities, a particular devotion to her name saint, notable generosity to the Carthusians, and the foundation of a chantry at Westminster after her son was born there. ['On other occasions she supported planned religious foundations in London, […] made generous gifts to Eton College, and petitioned the pope to extend the circumstances in which indulgences could be acquired by observing the feast of the Visitation']. One possible indicator of a more personal, and more sophisticated, thread in her piety is a book of Hours of the Guardian Angel which Sutton and Visser-Fuchs have argued was commissioned for her, very possibly at her request."
-J.L. Laynesmith, "Elizabeth Woodville: The Knight's Widow", "Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts: Power, Influence, Dynasty"
#historicwomendaily#elizabeth woodville#my post#friendly reminder that there's nothing indicating that Elizabeth was exceptionally pious or that her piety was 'beyond purely conventional'#(something first claimed by Anne Crawford who simultaneously claimed that Elizabeth was 'grasping and totally lacking in scruple' so...)#EW's piety as queen may have stood out compared to former 15th century predecessors and definitely stood out compared to her husband#but her actions in themselves were not especially novel or 'beyond normal' and by themselves don't indicate unusual piety on her part#As Laynesmith's more recent research observes they seem to have been 'broadly conventional'#A conclusion arrived at Derek Neal as well who also points out that in general queens and elite noblewomen simply had wider means#of 'visible material expression of [their] personal devotion' - and also emphasizes how we should look at their wider circumstances#to understand their actions (eg: the death of Elizabeth's son George in 1479 as a motivating factor)#It's nice that we know a bit about Elizabeth's more personal piety - for eg she seems to have developed an attachment to Westminster Abbey#It's possible her (outward) piety increased across her queenship - she undertook most of her religious projects in later years#But again - none of them indicate the *level* of her piety (ie: they don't indicate that she was beyond conventionally pious)#By 1475 it seems that contemporaries identified Cecily Neville as the most personally devout from the Yorkist family#(though Elizabeth and even Cecily's sons were far greater patrons)#I think people also assume this because of her retirement to Westminster post 1485#which doesn't work because 1) we don't actually know when she retired? as Laynesmith says there is no actual evidence for the traditional#date of 12 February 1487#2) she had very secular reasons for retiring (grief over the death of her children? her lack of dower lands or estates which most other#widows had? her options were very limited; choosing to reside in the abbey is not particularly surprising. it's a massive and unneeded jump#to claim that it was motivated solely by piety (especially because it wasn't a complete 'retirement' in the way people assume it was)#I think historians have a habit of using her piety as a GOTCHA!' point against her vilification - which is a flawed and stupid argument#Elizabeth could be the most pious individual in the world and still be the pantomime villain Ricardians/Yorkists claim she was#They're not mutually exclusive; this line of thinking is useless#I think this also stems from the fact that we simply know very little about Elizabeth as an individual (ie: her hobbies/interests)#certainly far less than we do for other prominent women Margaret of Anjou; Elizabeth of York;; Cecily Neville or Margaret Beaufort#and I think rather than emphasizing that gap of knowledge her historians merely try to fill it up with 'she was pious!'#which is ... an incredibly lackluster take. I think it's better to just acknowledge that we don't know much about this historical figure#ie: I do wish that her piety and patronage was emphasized more yes. but it shouldn't flip too far to the other side either.
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Angela Carter, The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories; from ‘The Company of Wolves’
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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 6 months
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watching wish and asha just said 'isn't truth supposed to set you free' and i went:
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more seriously i've very rarely seen 'the truth will set you free' used in a context that wasn't at least aware the phrase comes from the bible (the same way people are generally aware that 'to fly too close to the sun' comes from greek mythology)
so now i'm wondering if the people who wrote this line and put it in the movie know where it comes from and didn't care or plainly didn't know. it's just a very weird phrase to use in the context of that movie imo cause it's far less of an all purpose expression than other biblically inspired sayings.
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bokatan · 2 months
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[NSFW] Preston for Reed?
[ prompt ] @fuzzydreamin
I'm skipping a handful of these because Reed's not really into Preston. He has some complicated feelings around Preston + some remnants of old religious guilt come up among other things, so there just isn't really much interest in him like that. Reed does think very highly of Preston though, and they're pretty good friends & allies
How interested they are in having sex with them: Not very interested. I don't think Reed would decline if it were offered, but that's not something he'd initiate on his own
How much they would pay (or have to be paid) to have sex with them: Again- complicated feelings, so I'd say Reed wouldn't be down to have any sort of payment or exchange involved.
If they would rather bottom or top: Bottom
How good they think they would be: Pretty good- specifically thinks he's probably good with his hands, but he wouldn't have any concerns
If they think there’s ever a possibility that it would happen: Maybe in the future, but as it stands right now- probably not
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valodia · 5 months
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Real thing somebody said IRL today "the christmas tree in itself is from pagan culture so it doesnt count as religious"
#lodia sayings#just one of the casual ways i feel dismissed in everyday life.#like.#this is like 75% of why im so aggressive to xtianity its just forced down my throat and trying to desperately include me as a white person#everyone like ohh obviously youre participating into this xtian tradition etc how are you celebrating etc#im allergic#it was xmas time recently as everybody is held at gunpoint to know.#and i know some ppl when i say they dont celebrate they say like oh me either really i dont care but i do it for my children or family etc#and im like not me i actively will not engage even if my family rlly wanted me to in fact thats how ive been since a teenager#and i took a second to think about it and i was like wait thats a really stubborn stance that i have for seemingly no rational reason#like if it means a lot to somebody i care about it would cost nothing to indulge them and be nice about it#and i realized it stems from an internalized belief that people are not willing to accomodate me and i think its bc i dont matter to them#which is like. not necessarily true but i cant help but feel that way#and i was like hmmm hm. well ive probably been hurtful about this in the past if i think about it.#so ig if im ever faced with the situation again ill have to do better#but anyway.#sorry i use the tags in the way that the post is supposed to be for.#edit: i realized w my tags it sounds like i think this person is wrong and i believe that xmas tree is xtian#its not what i meant i meant that being pagan is literally religious. as a pagan that offends me lol
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mx-paint · 1 year
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If your argument is "there are no people of color in [x] because I personally don't see this person as a person of color" than it's like. a faulty argument.
#max rambles#this is about percy jackson#like. idk what theyre trying argue about#first this person is saying there arent any naturally blue eyes blond haired people of african decent without white interference#(there are with 0 white genes)#then theyre like theres no colored characters in any of the work#then when i gave a list of actual people of color they said i meant Main characters and im just like. all of the people i listed Are mains.#theyre literally in the same story.#and this all started bc someone else starred a different argument with me how black people cant see themselves in annabeth#and didnt have reason for how they cant other than the characters insrance isnt based off of race?#like. wtf are tiktokers On#ive learned more negative stuff in the world from tiktok than i have on anything else#like the people insisting that people cant be religious and gay bc then theyll be living a life of sin#like. its even worse than it is the real world bc they think bc theyre online rhey can get away with everything#edit: hes using the fact that he says hes black to say nothing hes said is racist#hes saying i must be white lady....bc i gave him examples of why hes wrong#like. im not a lady and. idk what to say abour the white comment since im technically not white either#but when i tried talking to him he just kept saying that#then when i pointed out hid Own racist comment he said 'im black so i cant be racist'.....#...........what#idk anymore man#i was talking about something else in the first place. he talked about something else and got mad when i didnt want to talk to him anymore#idk what he wants me to say when i comment and he ignores it or when i comment and he says that what he asked for 'doesnt count'
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fairuzfan · 7 months
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This post is for the anon who sent me that video asking me to debunk it's claims so they can be better equipped against accusations of antisemitism.
Sorry, I won't post the video since I refuse to have that man on my blog but I can give you common Zionist talking points and the illogicality behind it.
To preface: most of the questions Zionists will ask you are a trap, and will make you fall into a "rabbit hole" (as I was once told when I was younger), as we try to apply their reasoning. My advice is to ALWAYS center the humanity of Palestinians. For example, when a Zionist says:
"Don't Jews deserve a homeland to be safe?"
It fundamentally ignores the core issue: Palestinians are being raped, murdered, and expelled from their homes so that the establishment of this so called "homeland" may exist. When people ask this to you, I personally advise saying something like:
Why must Palestinians suffer for the establishment of this homeland?
Always recenter to the issue at hand—the inhumane removal and treatment of Palestinians.
"Palestine belongs to the Jews and Not Muslims"
The whole premise of this claim is flawed—there is a weird tendency to equate Arab/Palestinian=Muslim when it just is like. Completely untrue. There are Palestinian Christians, Bethlehem is famously a Christian city, who have been there for centuries. There are Palestinian Jews, who have been there for centuries. There are Palestinian Muslims, who have been there for centuries. My grandpa told me stories of how he would turn on lamps for his Jewish neighbors in Al-Khalil (or Hebron) during Shabbat.
To claim that Palestine is EITHER Islamic or Jewish doesn't make any sense and completely neglects the fact that dissemination of culture has occurred for centuries, as well as the intermingling of people throughout generations. To somehow assert that for some reason, Jews and Muslims did not have ANYTHING to do with each other—did not create together, did not build families together, did not build culture together, all while being PALESTINIAN—is incredibly racist and nonsensical. "Palestinian" is not a religious identity—it's a cultural and ethnic one.
Also, it does not negate the core issue—Palestinians are being killed, removed, and tortured so that others can live on that land.
"Well what about [something about partitioning land]?"
Honestly like, who cares about the partitioning throughout the 1900 and early 2000s. Sorry, I'm not going to list the whole "partitioning" history nonsense. The whole reason "Israel" exists is because of a Mass Exodus, murder, and rape of Palestinians. Everything after that is rendered obsolete.
"Well, I heard Palestinians allied with Hitler"
I don't know how to tell you this but Palestine was under British Control. No they didn't.
"Israel withdrew from the Gaza and left them to themselves and they put Hammas in charge"
Oh yeah, Israel totally left Gaza, that's why Gazans' water, electricity, internet, and food is completely controlled by Israel (this is sarcasm, Israel still controls basic life in Gaza).
Go back to centering the idea that no human deserves to be shoved into an open-air prison, starved, and controlled. Did you know that the Zionist Entity controls the amount of water Gazans receive, as well as counting their calories to ensure they don't have enough energy on a day to day basis?
"I heard Israel asked Arabs to stay"
Show them these papers and videos when they say this:
youtube
If you can't show them these videos, check in the next point what to say.
"Well the Palestinians left of their own will in 1948"
Palestinians in 1948 didn't "leave." They had heard of how the Zionist Entity was slaughtering Palestinians en masse. Women especially heard stories of rape and sexual violence. They fled from *violence*. Again, from an earlier post, that this was a calculated effort on the Zionist Entity's part to try and get them to "leave" on their own and "abandon" their houses so that they can come in and say "hey, they left on their own so, we can come in and take their houses now."
Anyways, the idea that once you leave your house you can't ever come back to it is incredibly odd to me as an argument on Zionists' part. Like if you leave your house right now to go to the grocery store and you come back and see someone in your house and they're like "sorry dude, this is my house now, you left so that means you can't come back," you'd be like, "what the hell!" It would be even weirder if everyone agreed with the guy who took your house, which is what happened to Palestinians.
In Al-Khalil, or Hebron, Palestinians always have to have someone stay in their house or else a Settler will come in and take it from them. So it still goes on today as well.
This is not a point, but when that one person in the video said "Arabs lived under Israeli rule" and showed a clip of a bustling city with mountains, I'm pretty sure that was Amman, Jordan, not Palestine lol. Those buildings in the mountains look like how downtown Amman builds the residential areas. Could be wrong tho.
"There are no Jews living under Palestinian rule in Palestine"
What is this, some sort of gotcha argument? What are they trying to prove, the racist (obviously false) notion that Palestinians hate Jews as a whole? How do they know no Palestinian Jew lives in Gaza? Also, Settlers in Palestinian Territory exist??? I had never heard this claim before, its incredibly stupid lol. You're automatically a citizen of "Israel" if you're Jewish, whether or not you live in or outside of Palestinian Territories. So of course technically they don't live under Palestinian rule, they're granted full rights as an "Israeli" citizen automatically!
Go back to talking about the inhumane treatment of Palestinians, I wouldn't bring up the above counterpoint unless they really won't let it go since the main point is mistreatment.
"Why are Christians supporting Israel then, if it's a secular issue rather than a religious one?"
Well actually for a couple reasons:
Oil interests and regional control of goods (White People Supporting White People).
Weird fundamentalist ideology where they want to enact the second coming of Christ.
And finally because they are racist and don't think Arab Christians deserve to live. They literally bombed a 1500+ year church the other day. Why would (White) Christians cosign that.
Anyways, its a stupid argument again, because it forgets the core issue of Palestinians dying and being displaced.
In summary, always go back to the point of centering the Palestinians being displaced, tortured, and murdered, no matter the argument a Zionist gives you.
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ldknightshade · 2 months
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morality: a character creation guide
creating and understanding your oc’s personal moral code! no, i cannot tell you whether they’re gonna come out good or bad or grey; that part is up to you.
anyway, let’s rock.
i. politics
politics are a good way to indicate things your character values, especially when it comes to large-scale concepts such as government, community, and humanity as a whole.
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say what you will about either image; i’d argue for the unintiated, the right image is a good introduction to some lesser discussed ideologies… some of which your oc may or may not fall under.
either way, taking a good look at your character’s values on the economic + social side of things is a good place to start, as politics are something that, well… we all have ‘em, you can’t avoid ‘em.
clearly, this will have to be adjusted for settings that utilize other schools of thought (such as fantasy + historical fiction and the divine right of kings), but again, economic/social scale plotting will be a good start for most.
ii. religion + philosophy
is your oc religious? do they believe in a form of higher power? do they follow some sort of philosophy?
are they devout? yes, this applies to non-religious theist and atheist characters as well; in the former’s case… is their belief in a higher power something that guides many of their actions or is their belief in a higher power something that only informs a few of their actions? for the atheists; do they militant anti-theists who believe atheism is the only way and that religion is harmful? or do they not care about religion, so long as it’s thrust upon them?
for the religious: what is your oc’s relationship with the higher power in question? are they very progressive by their religion’s standards or more orthodox? how well informed of their own religion are they?
does your oc follow a particular school of philosophical thought? how does that interact with their religious identification?
iii. values
by taking their political stance and their religious + philosophical stance, you have a fairly good grasp on the things your character values.
is there anything they value - due to backstory, or what they do, or what they love - that isn’t explained by political stance and religious and/or philosophical identification? some big players here will likely be your oc’s culture and past.
of everything you’ve determined they value, what do they value the most?
iv. “the line”
everyone draws it somewhere. we all have a line we won’t cross, no matter the lengths we go for what we believe is a noble cause. where does your character draw it? how far will they go for something they truly believe is a noble cause? as discussed in part iii of my tips for morally grey characters,
would they lie? cheat? steal? manipulate? maim? what about commit acts of vandalism? arson? would they kill?
but even when we have a line, sometimes we make exceptions for a variety of reasons. additionally, there are limits to some of the lengths we’d go to.
find your character’s line, their limits and their exceptions.
v. objectivism/relativism
objectivism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “an ethical theory that moral good is objectively real or that moral precepts are objectively valid.”
relativism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “a view that ethical truths depend on the individuals and groups holding them.”
what take on morality, as a concept, does your character have? is morality objective? is morality subjective?
we could really delve deep into this one, but this post is long enough that i don’t think we need to get into philosophical rambling… so this is a good starting point.
either way, exploring morality as a concept and how your character views it will allow for better application of their personal moral code.
vi. application
so, now you know what they believe and have a deep understanding of your character’s moral code, all that’s left is to apply it and understand how it informs their actions while taking their personality into account.
and interesting thing to note is that we are all hypocrites; you don’t have to do this, but it might be fun to play around with the concept of their moral code and add a little bit of hypocrisy to their actions as a treat.
either way, how do your character’s various beliefs interact? how does it make them interact with the world? with others? with their friends, family, and community? with their government? with their employment? with their studies? with the earth and environment itself?
in conclusion:
there’s a lot of things that inform one’s moral compass and i will never be able to touch on them all; however, this should hopefully serve as at least a basic guide.
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simpjaes · 2 months
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desecration. (s.j)
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the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.
minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 
WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k
PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader
GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish
WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 
NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 
Huh.
Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 
You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 
Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 
Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 
 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 
Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.
He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.
His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 
Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 
“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 
Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 
“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”
It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 
“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”
Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 
“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.
Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.
Ah, so you’re a whore.
His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.
Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 
“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 
“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 
Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 
“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.
Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 
Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.
“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 
He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 
“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.
“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 
Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.
“Bet that pisses you off.”
“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”
You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 
“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 
“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”
Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.
“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”
He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.
“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.
 You really seem to be enjoying this. 
“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”
Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 
“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 
“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 
He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 
No one would even know. 
Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 
A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 
“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”
“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 
“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 
You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 
He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 
What a dirty, dirty boy.
Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 
“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 
You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 
“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”
Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 
“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”
Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.
“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 
“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 
“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 
He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 
Oh. Oh. 
“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 
This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 
“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 
You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 
“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 
God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 
And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 
“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”
Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 
You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 
His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.
“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”
You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.
Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 
You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.
“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”
You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.
 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 
“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 
You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 
Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 
His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 
Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 
“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.
You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 
Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 
Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 
You’ve gotten wetter. 
“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 
No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 
The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 
You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  
You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 
Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 
Into you, rather.
When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 
It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 
No. 
Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 
You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 
“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 
His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”
You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 
Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.
Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.
You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 
His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.
And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 
Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.
“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 
His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 
“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 
More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 
“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 
You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 
“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”
“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.
“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 
Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?
 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.
“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”
You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.
Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 
“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 
“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?
“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”
“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 
He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 
For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 
“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 
“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 
He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.
Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.
“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”
You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.
Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 
Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 
When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.
 He does this until, finally, you moan.
Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 
Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.
“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 
Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  
If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 
He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.
 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.
You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 
And god, he keeps giving it to you.
In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 
“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.
And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.
You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.
You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 
Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.
“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”
You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 
And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.
The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.
Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 
Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 
“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 
That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 
Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 
Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 
“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”
His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.
He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 
He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 
You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.
“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 
“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 
Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.
“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 
“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.
“Don’t you?” 
You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.
“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.
You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 
“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  
“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.
In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 
“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 
Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.
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ifearzombies · 1 year
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Things You Do Living At The HoL
1- Whenever you make yourself food in the kitchen you make three servings. One for you and two for Beel. Beel will smell it and you can never, ever not have something for him.
2- You buy every magazine Mammon is featured in. He makes royalties off of that and you want to support your first man in everything he does.
3- You check on Lucifer’s office every night. You either are bringing him coffee, offering to help, or are ushering him to bed depending on what he’s working on.
4- You text Diavolo, Barbatos, and the PH group every night to tell them you love them and that you’ll see them tomorrow since you can’t say goodnight in person most nights.
5- You find yourself saying “God” a LOT less. Either the angels are offended because you’re using their father’s name in vain. Or the demons are offended because you’re mentioning someone who hates them/their father they hate. It’s almost eradicated from your vocabulary.
6- When in the Human Realm and you see religious people you have to walk by them quickly because you can’t tell them how much you know about God, Demons, and the afterlife.
7- On nights you can’t sleep, you find yourself in the kitchen either talking to Beel or making food for him. You cherish those late night talks.
8- When Levi has a raid planned and you can’t stay with him, you check on him as much as possible to see if he needs anything.
9- You gave up trying to clean Satan’s room. But you DO check to make sure he’s not buried under books. Again. You’ve found him a few times under a bookalanche.
10- You make sure to tell Asmo he’s beautiful at least once a day. He pouts if you don’t.
11- You make sure Belphie wakes up long enough to do his schoolwork on days he does virtual schooling. On days he goes to RAD, you check to see how he’s doing.
12- On days you are in charge of dinner (volunteering or scheduled), you tend to make foods that are easy to make in bulk. Spaghetti, pancakes, quesadillas, and so forth. Not just because of Beel’s appetite (though that is the main reason), but this is a house of 7 men who are pretty fit. They all have a very healthy appetite. Plus there’s ALWAYS a chance for the PH group or Diavolo & Barbatos to come by.
13- You don’t lock the door when you use the bath in the main bathroom of the HoL. In the event someone desperately needs the toilet/sink in there, you don’t want to get up out of the water to open the door. Too much hassle.
14- You have a specific spot you sit at in the living room. The demons are weirded out by you have a particular spot you like, but they’ve avoided sitting there so that they’re never in the way.
15- You look at the sky to tell the time. You’ve started to figure out when it’s day or night depending on the moon’s positions and the stars in the sky. Specific hours still require a watch/clock. But day or night, you’ve got it mostly down.
16- You keep a shelf of books in your room for Satan. They’re mostly cat mystery novels since he loves detective novels and cats. You steal them back from his room, though, so he can’t add them to the mess that is his room.
17- You check on the pranks for the Anti-Lucifer League and work with them on good times for pranks. You’ve explained that if he’s not busy with something important, it’s more aggravating to him. They don’t believe you, but they sometimes listen to you when you ask them to hold off on a prank.
18- You tend to ask Mammon and Satan to go grocery shopping with you. Mammon can find the best deals and Satan is knowledgeable about what’s freshest in the store. Beel eats while he shops and groceries are more when he’s there. Belphie gets tired, Levi complains the whole time, Asmo just looks at reflective surfaces and slows the process down, and Lucifer is usually too busy.
19- You don’t watch porn. You can’t. Asmo can tell when you do because he can just sense when you’re horny and he tells EVERYONE. It’s embarrassing and sometimes you just want to have some self service time rather than end up in a wheelchair!
20- The wheelchair. It started as a joke from Solomon, honestly. Teasing that you likely have so much intimacy you struggle to walk. Diavolo didn’t realize he was joking and actually bought it for you. So you do actually own a wheelchair at the HoL. It’s in your closet, all charged up (Diavolo sprung for a fancy motorized one). When you feel like messing with the brothers, you’ll break it out and use it around the first floor and then they get to try and figure out who made you use it. It slightly backfires if anyone comes to visit though.
Solomon starts flirting and stating that he’d like a turn to make you use it. Simeon turns redder than a tomato. Luke gets mad and yells at the demons for hurting you, assuming they’ve injured you by their fighting (NO ONE IS CORRECTING HIM FOR FEAR OF ANGERING SIMEON). Barbatos frets over you being injured. Diavolo just teases you and asks if the chair is comfortable enough.
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tomriddleslove · 1 month
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Mattheo Riddle, under that hardened exterior, is just a boy who wants to be loved.
For someone who isn’t religious, he prays every day, thanking the heavens above for you. To say you were his saviour would be an understatement. You quickly became the life force that flowed through his veins.
Coming from an unstable background with absent parents and no guidance, he became accustomed to broken noses, split knuckles and bruises far earlier than any young kid should be. It was a rather disheartening situation, and at the mere age of 12 Mattheo had been sure he knew what his future was.
Dead in a ditch somewhere, as result of either a nasty drunken fight or his fathers actions. Both as bad as eachother, and both equally as probable.
He was near impossible to get through to. You started off as good friends, but every moment of self doubt and sabotage led to Mattheo shutting you out. The cycle repeated until it bought you to tears for the first (but not last) time.
Seeing you cry only solidified Mattheo’s belief that he was a monster; an unlovable nobody who would ruin someone like you. You would be far better off without him.
You however, were far too stubborn for your own good and refused to let that get in the way. After a few months of continuously fighting and making up, Mattheo finally admitted his feelings to you. He all but broke down sobbing, repeating how he wasn’t good for you and that he didn’t deserve your love, murmuring the words as though they were a mantra drilled into his head, the result of years of neglect.
You held him tightly until his tears were no more. He doesn’t thinks he’s ever cried in front of a person before. You made him feel safe.
That became his favourite place to be. Holding onto you, his arms wrapped around your waist with his head resting in your chest. Listening to the rhythm of your heart knowing that every beat was a reason for him to carry on trying, a reason for him to not give up. The hope for a future, with you, was enough to give him hope.
For a boy who was so rough around the edges, you touched him like he was the most fragile thing in the world, and looked at him as though he had hung the sun.
He would toy with your fingers as you both huddled into the roof of the owlery, a thin blanket and a poorly casted warming charm enveloping the two of you as you’d overlook the night sky. He’d press a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. You admired the stars, and he admired you.
He was yours, unconditionally.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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✨ Behind (Not So) Closed Doors✨
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As promised, here’s a little story of the one prompt I got a little bit ago! Literally no one voted ‘no’ on the poll for this story and I think that’s hysterical, bunch of thirsty mfs (affectionate 💖)
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You catch Lucifer acting out on his most carnal desires…
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, hand job, (oral m & f receiving), p in v
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You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, but he was also kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!
Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?
When you had first spoken to him all those months ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meeting, and ever since then it had been nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.
You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”
You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.
A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. The black nightgown you typically wore to bed didn't provide nearly enough heat, but you didn't want to change back into your normal day clothes either. So, you threw on your favorite pink robe before you left your room, it was more than enough to keep you comfortable. It was late, way later than you should have been awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most nights, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Lying awake in your bed didn’t help these thoughts but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.
You glanced over to the fireplace, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fireplace, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.
“What the hell am I going to do…”
Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”
Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.
“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand, and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what had just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”
You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.
“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”
“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”
Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”
“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”
The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.
“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”
“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.
You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.
You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but maybe you came on a little strong. Plus, your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more now that you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.
Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!
You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.
What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.
Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.
Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.
“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stroked his shaft.
You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.
Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course, the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”
A small gasp escaped your lips.
Fuck.
Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running until you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer avoided you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.
Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it firsthand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.
But of course, those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.
There was a knock at the door.
“H-Hey,” you heard Lucifer’s voice on the other side, “it’s me. Can we talk?”
You didn’t dare move. You hid your head in your lap, pleading silently that he would give up and go away.
You heard him sigh. “I can see your shadow, you know.”
God damn it…
Slowly you rose from the floor, your trembling hand latching onto the doorknob. But your brain wouldn’t let you turn it no matter how hard you tried. How could you possibly face him after what you saw?
“Please?…”
The way he sounded so desperate; it was impossible not to give in. With a heavy sigh, the doorknob turned and you cracked open the door just enough to see Lucifer standing just outside, his glassy eyes looking into yours. You looked away immediately.
“Hi…” you whispered staring down at the ground.
He lowered himself in an attempt to get you to look at him again. “Can I come in?”
You nodded, opening the door inch by inch until he was able to step inside. You shut the door behind him, folding your arms over your body. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence between you two was deafening, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave until you talked.
“I’m so sorry!” you both shouted simultaneously. “Wait, what?”
"Hold on now!" Lucifer interjected, "You have nothing to apologize for!"
"Of course I do!" you retorted. "I invaded your privacy when I watched...uhh, n-never mind." When you glanced in his direction, his entire face almost matched the pink circles on his cheeks. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him any longer. "I-It was an accident! I came up to apologize for scaring you off again. But...I heard you call my name a-and I just assumed you already knew I was outside, so I opened the door and...I'm so sorry, I should have knocked, and I should have left immediately…I-"
You didn't notice Lucifer make his way towards you, throwing his hands onto your shoulders and snapping you out of your spiral. "Hey, no more of that," he soothed. "I'm not angry, and I didn't come here to scold you. This is all on me."
You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. "B-But..."
"My dear, this is my fault, not yours," Lucifer cut you off, bringing his thumb up to cheek to wipe a tear that had fallen. He realized how close he'd gotten to you in his attempt to calm you down. Flustered, he stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. You already missed the closeness. "If you'd let me, I'd like to apologize and, you know, at least attempt to explain myself. Not that what happened was excusable. But if you'd rather I leave now, I'd more than understand. And I don't expect your forgiveness. I...just thought it best to apologize to you directly instead of continuing to avoid you and pretending like nothing happened. I'm deeply and truly sorry for everything."
You felt the sincerity in his words, and you saw the pain in his face thinking he had hurt you. You couldn't let him leave. Not yet.
"Stay...please..." you managed to respond. You made your way over to your bed and gestured for him to follow. You sat down crossed legged near the edge of the bed, Lucifer mirroring your actions. You took a deep breath before speaking once more. "I'm not angry with you either, you know."
A strange mixture shock and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. "Y-You're not?"
You smiled wearily. "No, I promise. I mean, I'm a little taken aback..." Lucifer winced. "...but not in a bad way! If anything, I feel...flattered, you know?" Your face burned at your own candor. A quick glance at him showed he felt the same heat in his own cheeks.
"R-Regardless," Lucifer cleared his throat, "it was still wrong of me. I could try to give excuses about...my ex-wife being gone for more than 7 years now, or tell you that watching you from afar just sparked something in me that I hadn't felt in God know how long, or..."
"You've been watching me?" you teased, flashing him a small grin.
"Shhhhit, well, I uhh...only sometimes!" Lucifer tried to reason. "A-And not for very long! I just, umm, I just noticed how kind you are with everyone you come into contact with, and you're extremely helpful when it comes to the hotel! And your smile...I MEAN, uhh, C-Charlie absolutely adores you with the way she goes on and on about your progress! We both wonder how you even ended up down here in the first place. And well, you...you're," he gulped, "you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on..."
You sat there frozen, your body trembling slightly. Your mind raced a million miles a minute. You tried to get your mouth so form any sort of words, but nothing. Lucifer started to panic.
"I-I'm sorry! That was really forward of me! I shouldn't have-I uhh...God, this is the worst fucking apology imaginable!" Lucifer brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes and lowering his head. "Maybe it would be best if I just g-MMPH!"
You don't know what came over you, but somehow your lips crashed into Lucifer's. His hands flew from his face, now gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He sat perfectly still, but only for a moment. He couldn't help but give into you, letting his eyelids flutter closed and melting under the kiss. You pulled away after only a few seconds, Lucifer leaning his head forward slightly, still needing more. His crimson irises had grown into saucers, his face hot as the sun. Having the literal King of Hell flustered beyond belief from a single kiss was a sight you absolutely wanted to see more of.
"If you think I'm beautiful, then you are someone who is beyond beauty, your majesty," you cooed. You weren't completely sure where this sudden burst of boldness had sprung from, but you liked it. And from what you were witnessing, all signs pointed to Lucifer being completely enamored with it as well.
You went back to your seated position, but now Lucifer was on all fours, crawling ever so slowly towards you. "P-Please..." he begged, "I-I need more..." His face was now mere inches away. He rested his forehead on yours, waiting for your lips to touch his again. The faint smell of apples that hugged his skin was intoxicating.
"You want me to kiss you again?" you asked playfully. "Then you need to tell me something, darling."
Lucifer's breathing had picked up at the sound the pet name you'd given him, his eyes screwed shut. "A-Anything!"
"Tell me then," you said as you began to stroke his soft blond hair, "what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself to me?"
Lucifer whimpered against you. "Anything but that! Please! I-I can't..."
You pulled your forehead away from his, still patting his hair. "I think it's a little too late to be shy now, my king."
A low moan escaped Lucifer's throat as he inched towards you once again. "I...I was thinking...about how wonderful you would taste on my tongue...." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I was thinking about how...how pretty your lips would look around my cock." A kiss to your left cheek. "I was thinking about watching you...fuck...watching you ride my cock until I have nothing left in me." A kiss to your right cheek. "But mostly...I was thinking about how badly I want you to be mine..."
Your lips met once more, and with even more vigor than before. His devilish tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging to delve in further. When your lips parted, your tongues had clashed with such voracity that it had knocked you down onto you bed, Lucifer now completely overtaking you. His hand found the back of your head and pulled you closer into the kiss which you didn't even think possible. With his body completely flat on top of you and even through your robe, it didn't take long for you to notice a certain bulge pressing against your stomach. You chuckled lightly, causing Lucifer to pull away, knowing exactly what you had felt.
"Ha...sorry...my uhh, my body has a mind of its own," he laughed nervously. "If this is too much for you, w-we can slow down. Or just stop completely! It's...It's been a while for me a-and I don't want you to be uncomfortable..."
You placed your hand on his shoulder and gently guided him off of you, putting him on his knees. In an instant, you tossed your robe to the side, revealing your cute black nightgown that left very little to the imagination. Lucifer sucked in a breath as he frantically started shedding his own clothes as well, removing his jacket and dress shirt in a manner that really emphasized his desperation for you. You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest and how it almost glistened in the faint lighting of your room.
"Do you think you're the only one who's body is reacting to this?" You shoved him down gently onto his back, his head now resting against your pillows. "But instead of just telling you, why don't you see for yourself?" You crawled up his body, dragging yourself against home until you straddled his chest.
"Oh, fuck me..." Lucifer almost inaudibly. He snaked his hands up the skirt of your nightgown until his hands reached them hem of your panties. He looked up at you expectantly, and with a final nod from you, you felt him tug your underwear down your legs. He pulled them down slowly, lifting one leg out first and kicking them off with the other. You gazed at him seductively, your glistening entrance now mere inches away from waiting lips. Lucifer's hands grazed up your thighs before stopping just before where you needed him most. Lucifer's breath hitched.
"It's alright," you reassured him. "Touch me. Please, Lucifer..."
"Ahh, wait!" Lucifer stopped his movements entirely. With a quick snap of his fingers, you heard your door lock itself. "We don't want another incident now, do we?"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrics, but it made you giggle, nonetheless. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling!"
Lucifer laughed. "My sweet angel, if you've learned anything about me in last few minutes, it's that I couldn't wait another second longer for you even if I tried."
With those words, you felt his fingers finally find their way to your folds. It was like an electric shock had coursed through your entire body when he touched you. He'd barely begun and you were already soaking wet. His thumb found your clit instantly as he began to rub small circles around it, sending wave after wave of pleasure. You lifted your hips slightly so his figures could push their way inside of you. Words couldn't begin to describe how good he felt. He told you himself that it had been some time since he'd been with anyone, but there was no indication of this being the case as his two digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace. He knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered when you felt him pull his fingers out of you, only to watch him dip them into his mouth, cleaning off your slick entirely. "God, you're more delectable than I could have ever imagined! Please, let me taste you, all of you..."You blushed hard and nodded. You scooted yourself up further, hovering directly over his lips. "Still too far..." you heard him say before his hands latched onto your hips and forced you down so you were seated firmly on his face.
"L-Lucifer!" you cried weakly, trying to pull yourself up. You knew it was futile though. Damn him and his angelic strength.
"You won't hurt me, darling, I promise," he said with a wink. "Besides, breathing is overrated..." You felt his forked tongue immediately dart in and out of your drenched pussy. Your broken moans filled the room as he ate you out like it was his last meal. Lucifer switched between tongue fucking you and sucking on your sensitive nub at a relentless pace. That coil in your stomach was tightening with each movement he made.
"Lu-Luci-fer, o-oh my God, f-fuck, I-I can't." You tripped over every other word that left your lips. Your body started to tremble and your thighs shook violently as you felt your impending orgasm. "I-I'm gonna c-cum, gonna cum, oh SSHHHIIIIITTT-FUCKFUCKFUCK C-CUMMING!" You cried out helplessly as you felt your walls clench around nothing, your juices spilling out onto Lucifer's more than eager tongue. He rode you through your orgasm, lapping you up and not wanting to waste a single drop. You felt him release his hold on your hips so you could at last move back down to his chest. You stared at him wide eyed as he looked back at you with the biggest smile you've ever seen. You felt the heat rise up your neck and cheeks as you watched him lick up the rest of your release that hung on his chin.
"W-Wow, that was...fuck, that was amazing," Lucifer sighed. "Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine," you breathed, "more than fine. You...really know how to use that tongue of yours." Lucifer flashed you a toothy grin like he had just told you the worst joke imaginable. You wanted to hide your face but damn it, he was too adorable when he looked at you like that!
"Well, you got your first wish. Allow me to grant your next one..." You shimmied down his body until your face lingered above the very obvious strain in his pants. "Let's make you more comfortable shall we?" You unhooked his belt in mere seconds, his pants following soon behind, leaving him in nothing but his briefs that already had a large wet spot in the front.
Lucifer managed to prop himself up on his forearms, his blush spreading to his entire face. "Sweetheart, y-you don't have to do that, I'm fiii-iiiiii-oooh fffffuck..." Lucifer's protest were cut short when you had brought your hand up to palm his very apparent erection through his shorts.
"Now that's hardly fair, Luci," you scolded him, "I think I deserve my fill too, don't you?" Before Lucifer could choke out an answer, you hooked your fingers along his waistband and pulled his briefs all the way down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock at last. You stopped for a moment to marvel at his length, having to stop yourself from drooling. "O-oh wow, that's umm...that's big..."
Lucifer chuckled nervously above you. "Y-Yeah, sorry about that. I think? Like I said, y-you don't have to-GAAHHH!" Without warning, you delicately gripped Lucifer's shaft, stroking it lethargically. Even though you were moving as slow as possible, the king was already a moaning mess. "S-Shit, you-fuck...feels so good..."
"Is this what you imagined, your highness?" you cooed, now rubbing your cheek against his cock in tandem with your hand. "I wanted to help you out earlier, you know that? When I saw you stroking yourself, I almost pushed opened that door so I could give you what you really wanted. But hey, better late than never!" You chuckled lightly as you licked up his shaft to the very sensitive head of his cock. The taste of his precum was addicting, you craved more. Lucifer writhed under your touch as his whimpers became music to your ears. You circled your tongue around the tip, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath you. You glanced up and noticed Lucifer's eyes were squeezed tight, with his claws digging into your sheets.
"Look at me," you ordered him while you continued to pump his cock. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as he forced his eyes open. "Good boy. I want you to keep your eyes on me." You smiled at him wickedly as you parted your lips and sunk down on his shaft.
"A-AHHH, OOOH FUCK!," Lucifer yelped as he fought against throwing his head back in pure bliss. Your warm mouth enveloped him, the taste of him was nothing short of divine. Your head continue you bob up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was a blabbering mess, only able to make incoherent noises. His ability to think had all but disappeared. All he could focus on was the immense pleasure your sinful tongue was providing. His breaths became shallow as your mouth lingered on his cock, refusing to move.
"I-I ca-FUCK...H-HOLY SHIT," Lucifer nearly screamed, his hips now bucking up uncontrollably, forcing you to take more and more of him. "CU-CUMMING, CUMMING...MMPH OHFUCKME!" With one final thrust, you felt his cock twitch, his hot seed filling your mouth. You sucked him off through his orgasm, taking in and swallowing every bit of cum he had. Once he'd finished, you finally let go with a small *pop*. You made your way up his body once more and hovered over his face with a giant grin. You opened your mouth to show him some cum you still had on your tongue before swallowing it down gleefully.
Lucifer's hands flew to his face immediately upon watching you. "I can't believe you just did that! How am I ever going to recover?!"
You laughed as you pulled his hands away from his face, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. He happily returned your kiss, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips under your nightgown. Lucifer leaned his head back on the pillows and tugged at the hem. "May I?"
"Of course," you nodded. He helped raise your nightgown, lifting it up and easily tossing it over your head and onto the floor. You sat up straight, straddling his stomach and giving him a very nice view of your breasts. "I know you've already felt them once tonight, but I'll let you touch them again if you ask nicely."
"Oh, ha ha," Lucifer mocked playfully, "very funny. That was technically your fault! I didn't just lay on your chest for fun, you forced me there when you pulled me away from the fire!"
You smirked and took ahold of his wrists. "Do you want to touch my tits or not?"
"...Yes, please..."
Smiling, you brought his hands to your breasts. A soft hum emitted from both of you as Lucifer began to knead at your soft mounds, his thumbs running over your sensitive nipples. Suddenly, he started to roll them between his thumb and index fingers, causing you to squeak in surprise. He sat up quickly, pushing you back so that you were now kneeling on the bed and hovering over his thighs. He took one nipple into his mouth as he continued his ministrations on the other. You moaned at the sensation, taking your hand and holding the back of his head for support. He switched sides, making sure your other nipple got the same amount of attention. The feeling of his teeth grazing you nipple sent shivers down your spine.
"Luci," you whispered into his ear. "you had one more fantasy you told me about, did you not?" Lucifer pulled away from your breasts, his eyes wide and full of anxiety. You could feel his heartbeat racing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"O-Only if you want to," his muffled voice reverberated off your skin.
"Yes, I do." You pushed Lucifer back down gently, noticing his cock was already hard again even without any further stimulation. "My, my, eager are we?"
"Very much so, yes," Lucifer whined.
"You're adorable, you know that?" you praised. Lucifer blushed hard and tried to cover his face once more before you pinned his hands above his head. "Don't you dare hide that pretty face from me, sweetheart. I want to see every single little cute expression you make once you're inside me." A small whimper left his mouth as you released your grip on his hands. You shifted yourself in order to line up your entrance with the tip of his cock, slowly rubbing it between your slick folds. "Are you ready?"
Lucifer gasped and threw his head back in response. "Y-Yes, please...need you...need to feel you..."
You began to sink down on his length, feeling him stretch you out beyond what you ever felt before. A beautiful mix of pain and pleasure coursed through you as you finally bottomed out on his cock, both of your moans echoing off the walls. Tears pricked your eyes as he filled you completely, as if you felt whole, now connected as one. You shifted your hips ever so slightly, but it was enough for Lucifer sit himself upwards and wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.
"You really f-feel like heaven," Lucifer breathed. "P-Please...please say you'll be mine..."
A single tear drifted down your face, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at any moment. You eagerly returned his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and bringing him as close to you as you possibly could. “I’m yours, Lucifer.” You cupped his face in your hands and brough your lips to his, sealing your promise. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you lifted your body off of him and gently sank back down. You swallowed Lucifer's moans as you continued your pace, bucking your hips and taking all of him with each sharp thrust. Lucifer's hands flew to your hips as he helped you up and down his aching cock.
"F-Fuck, y-you're killing me here, darling, I-HNNG...I'm close..." Lucifer sobbed was your pace became relentless. His hips were now rutting into you as he slammed you down onto him. Your eyes had crossed and drool began to pour down the side of your lips. You were absolutely and unashamedly cock drunk. The tightening in your stomach became almost unbearable, your release was fast approaching and so was his. "FFFFUUUUCCKK, g-gonna cum, g-gonna-ACK, c-can I?..."
"Inside L-Luci," you pleaded, "inside...fill me n-now-GAH F-FUCK, C-CUMMING!" Your walls clenched around his thick cock, pulsating relentlessly as Lucifer continued to pound into you making your vision blur. Your cries mixed with his as you felt him empty inside of you. The grip you had on him loosened as his wings suddenly sprouted out from behind him, catching you by surprise. Lucifer didn't seem to notice, too overtaken by his orgasm. He bit down on your shoulder harshly to keep himself from screaming while his hot seed continued to pour into you. Your muscles finally relaxed as you both came down from your highs. Lucifer's tongue lapped at the mark he had left on you, soothing the sore spot. But now that he'd given you your first mark, all you wanted to do was beg for more.
"S-Sorry about that," he smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to bite you so hard." He turned his head, finally noticing his ruffled wings. "O-Oh! Well...that's new."
You chuckled. "Your wings are beautiful, Lucifer." You ran your fingers over a few of his scarlet feathers; they were the softest things you've ever felt. His wing folded towards your touch, now almost fully engulfing the two of you. "Wait, are you apologizing for marking me? I'm yours, am I not? Now I have proof!"
Lucifer buried his face in your chest. "L-Love, you can't say things like that! You're gonna drive me insane!"
"Love?" you repeated.
He shot his head up in a panic. "I-uhh...is that okay?"
You kissed his lips tenderly. "It's more than okay, love."
You watched his wings puff up at your words, his smile wider than you've ever seen before. You then carefully pulled yourself from his lap and laid down ever so gently on his one set of wings while the other set wrapped around your body. Lucifer wrapped his arms around you once again, now feeling a double layer of protection and comfort.
"Thank you," he murmured against your ear.
"No, thank you," you whispered back. "It was wonderful, truly. And at least now I can stop worrying about whether or not you hate me!"
You heard a small hum leave Lucifer's lips. "That couldn't be further from the truth, my dearest." A placed a small peck to your forehead. "Do you...mind if I stay here tonight?"
You shook your head. "I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to," you teased. "You're mine now too." Fatigue flooded your body as you yawned and felt your eyelids fall. You snuggled your head against Lucifer's chest before unconsciousness had taken over.
"Forever," was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep in Lucifer's arms.
~~~
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zorciarkrildrush · 7 months
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I think the essence of what drives me crazy about current Enlightened Online Leftist Discourse Regarding My Life Personally And Whether This Time Killing Me Is Morally Correct (as in, commentary about the latest episode in i/p violence) is this:
I want a free Palestine.
I don't personally know a lot of people that don't! They might bristle at the tagline, because it's co-opted by people who do in fact want them dead, but as soon as I lay out why it's in literally everyone's best interest, how a non-free Palestine is horrific both to the people of Israel and to the people of Palestine, how pragmatically ridiculous the occupation of the west bank and the siege upon Gaza are (and I am a very pragmatic person), they get it. And I don't mean I debate people online about it - this, too, is a ridiculous concept - I mean having, time and time again, the deradicalization conversation with my friends, and colleagues, and my family. Obviously not only now - I've always been a very principled and argumentative Jew, ever since I became an adult - and I've been alive for, I don't know, a dozen flashpoints and operations and wars at this point, and I don't stop being argumentative and loud in peacetime either, but especially now.
But that's not what "from the river to the sea" means.
When you, gentle soul from across the sea, echo this slogan, you are either:
By apathy or will, ignoring that the sentiment cheers for the mass expulsion and killing of Jews. Indeed, any non-Muslim present from the river to the sea. This doesn't even begin to cover how even Muslim arabs still will not be safe under Hamas rule - and trust me, I don't care if a Hamas apologist told you different. A victory for Hamas (And we're ignoring the fact they do not have the military capacity for it - I hope you are aware of the privilege inherent to not understanding military conflicts) means exactly that. No "rule by the people". No socialistic, Palestinian utopia to be had, which is a fantasy I'm seeing alluded to a lot recently. Just an extension of the horrific power structure in Lebanon and Syria, where Hezbollah - friends and allies to Hamas - have been playing a tango for decades of both refusing to participate in actual government and betterment of civilian lives, while still draining their resources and controlling them with no real contest. "From the river to the sea" is not a sentiment for freedom fighting - it's a sentiment for a final solution to the people living here who are either Jewish, or for some Very Strange And Weird Reason would rather not submit to Hamas rule. You know - Israeli Arabs, secular and Muslim and Christian, Druze, Circassians, Bahai, take your pick. Their suffering, and my suffering - you know, a person who made the strategic error of being born in Israel while Jewish, which is inherently problematic and not okay of me - don't matter to you. Just the fantasy of an easy, morally correct cleanse of the land.
Are well aware of all of the above! You just don't care. You either smugly chuckle that I, and anybody else who will die, deserve it - or that it's an acceptable loss for the aforementioned fantasy. "Decolonization is an inherently violent process", you'll say to me, chillingly, before implying I have a summer home in Brooklyn I can just retreat to when things get tough. Israel is basically Rhodesia, a very popular blog here mentioned flippantly, so what's the issue with all of those lily-white Jews fucking off back home before the righteous freedom fighters strike them down? Well. This might be the part I urge you to open a book, or even Wikipedia or any god damn thing that will explain to you these upsetting, dense things you clearly struggle with.
So finally:
It's easy for me to discount islamophobes. Like, very easy. It's very easy for me to discount insane evangelistics who "advocate for me" simply because I'm a pawn in their religious rapture. It's easy for me to fight against Israeli and Jewish fascists - I have been long before this news item came across your feed, as did the insinuations that some civilian deaths are okay, actually.
It's easy for me for me to see promotions for donations to non-political aid in Gaza. It's easy for me to see the sentiment that hey! Palestinians deserve safe, healthy lives. That they have deserved an independent state, and were unfairly denied one, for decades. It's easy for me to see people saying "You know, the Israeli government is shit, actually, and their actions endanger and promote to the misery of innocents". Because that's right! I wouldn't be voting and protesting and donating for all of these sentiments otherwise!
It's not easy for me to see people, who I honestly held in high regard and saw having well thought out opinions on important matters, inadvertently echo the sentiment that my death is acceptable. That a terrorist organization, who rule over their own territory with fear and violence, are righteous freedom fighters, vox populi, only out to establish a free state. Like hey, their manifesto said otherwise, so it must be all there is - right? That Jews are just hysterical, they can easily live elsewhere - ever since that nasty holocaust business everything's fine abroad. Besides, it was just so long ago who even cares stop talking about it. Hamas, Hezbollah, ISIS, the Ayatollahs in Iran, the fucking Islamic Jihad - are not interested in freedom. They aren't, and echoing their slogan tells me you are either ignoring that, or support them anyway. If antisemitic rhetoric, half truths and lies by omission work on you today, they would have in any period of time. I'm sorry this makes you uncomfortable. I'm not, not really.
Know what your fucking words mean. Have a cursory glance at the history of the MENA and why it's so fucked, one that doesn't boil down to "The Jews, with American help, rolled into where they don't belong". This isn't even a joke. I've seen this braindead, history-revising sentiment repeated so many times, both online and in actual textbooks, that I feel I'm going insane. So many well-meaning people handwringing and assuring each other that repeating genocidal slogans is fine, that calling the i/p conflict "a simple problem" (which means it has a simple solution, right? Just kill the Jews.) is a well-adjusted and intellectual take. That "only the Zionists should die! The rest will be fine :)" I dare you to say that and also give me a correct definition of what Zionism is. Why I, a Jew that advocates for Palestinian statehood and rights and safety and always have, won't also face the wall in your little fantasy.
Freedom to Palestine. Peace in the middle east, fucking yesterday.
A curse and a plague on those who don't want either of those, and just want to cheer on the death of "the other side".
A curse and a plague upon you, when you tell me, smugly, from somewhere safe and far away, "from the river to the sea".
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transmutationisms · 5 months
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from a non-academic, i find parts of comphet to be useful (heterosexuality becomes compulsory when you’re raised in a heterosexual society) but the foundations . suck. what do we do with theories like this, that have touched on a truth but also carry a lot of garbage? can we separate the truth from the founder?
i have to be slightly pedantic and say that i don't think rich's essay is an example of this phenomenon. my central issue with her formulation is its bioessentialist assumptions about human sex and therefore also sexuality. if i say "capitalism includes economic mechanisms that enforce heterosexual behaviour and exclude other possibilities", then what i mean by "heterosexual" is plainly not the same as what rich means—and for this reason i would seldom formulate the statement this way, without clarifying that i am talking about the enforcement of heterosexuality as a part of the creation and defence of sex/gender categories themselves. so rich and i do not actually agree on the very fundamental premises of this paper! rich was not the first or only person to point out that economic mechanisms as well as resultant social norms enforce heterosexual pairings; i actually don't even think the essay does a very clear job of interrogating the relationship between labour, economy, and the creation of sex/gender; she means something different and essentialist to what i mean by sex and sexuality; and i think her proposed responses to the phenomenon she identifies as 'compulsory heterosexuality' are uninteresting because they mainly propose psychological answers to a problem arising from conditions of political economy. so, in regards to this specific paper, i am actually totally comfortable just saying that it's not a useful formulation, and i don't feel a need to rescue elements of it.
in general, i do know what you're talking about, and i think there's a false dichotomy here: as though we must either discard an idea entirely if it has elements we dislike, or we accept it on the condition that we can plausibly claim these elements and their author are irrelevant. these are not comprehensive options. instead, i would posit that every theory, hypothesis, or idea is laden with context, including values held and assumptions made by their progenitors. the point is not to find a mythical 'objective' truth unburdened by human bias or mistakes; this is impossible. instead, i think we need to take seriously the elements of an idea that we object to. why are they there? what sorts of assumptions or arguments motivate them, and are those actually separable from whatever we like in the idea? if so, can we be clear about which aspects of the theory are still useful or applicable, and where it is that the objectionable elements arise? and if we can identify these points, then what might we propose instead? this is all much more useful, imo, than either waiting for a perfect morally unimpeachable theory or trying to 'accept' a theory without grappling with its origins (political, social, intellectual).
a recent example that you might find interesting as a kind of case study is j lorand matory's book the fetish revisited, which argues that the 'fetish' concept in freud's and marx's work drew from their respective understandings of afro-atlantic gods. in other words, when marx said capitalists "fetishise" commodities or freud spoke about sexual "fetishism", they were each claiming that viewing an object as agentive, meaning-laden in itself (ie, devoid of the context of human meaning-making as a social and political activity) was comparable to 'primitive' and delusory religious practices.
matory's point here isn't that we should reject marx's entire contribution to political economy because he was racist, nor is it that we can somehow accept parts of what marx said by just excising any racist bits. rather, matory asks us to grapple seriously with the role that marx's anthropologically inflected racism plays in his ideas, and what limitations it imposes on them. why is it that marx could identify the commodity as being discursively abstracted and 'fetishised', but did not apply this understanding to other ideas and objects in a consistent way? and how is his understanding of this process of 'fetishisation' shaped by his beliefs about afro-atlantic peoples, and their 'intelligence' or civilisational achievements in comparison to northwestern europeans'? by this critique matory is able to nuance the fetish concept, and to argue that marx's formulation of it was both reductive and inconsistently applied (analogously to how freud viewed only some sexuality as 'fetishistic'). it is true in some sense that capital and the commodity are reified and abstracted in a manner comparable to the creation of a metaphysical entity, but what we get from matory is both a better, more nuanced understanding of this process of meaning-making (incl. a challenge to the racist idea of afro-atlantic gods as simply a result of inferior intelligence or cultural development), and the critical point that if this is fetishism, then we must understand a lot more human discourse and activity as hinging on fetishisation.
the answer of what we do with the shitty or poorly formulated parts of a theory won't always be the same, obviously; this is a dialogue we probably need to have (and then have again) every time we evaluate an idea or theory. but i hope this gives you some jumping-off points to consider, and an idea of what it might look like to grapple with ideas as things inherently shaped by people—and our biases and assumptions and failings—without assuming that means we can or should just discard them any time those failings show through. the point is not to waste time trying to find something objective, but to understand the subjective in its context and with its strengths and limitations, and then to decide from there what use we can or should make of it.
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xclowniex · 3 months
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why do you only criticize the left on your blog. Aren't nazis and white supremists also bad.
The reason why I criticize the left so much is for two reasons.
1. I am a leftists
2. The left is being very hypocritical about jews
To elaborate on those points, you should always call out those within your own political side. You can't just go "right wing people don't care about minorities" whilst not saying anything about the people on the left don't care about a minority.
It's hypocritical to criticize others when your group does the same thing.
All that does is say one of 3 things about you. That you either think that being bad towards a minority is excused because of your political opinion, the minority at hand and the discrimination they face is not as important as other minorities or isn't bad or that you just don't care about the minority at hand.
Going into how the left is hypocritical about jews, the left frequently is against civilians being held accountable for the actions of their government. Yet Israelis are being held accountable by them for their governments actions. Diaspora jews aka jews outside of Israel also get frequently held responsible for a government which isn't even theirs.
Leftists are against the collective punishment of Gazan citizens yet collectively punish Israeli and Jewish folk socially.
Then you have people talking about how a minority doing a bad thing doesn't take away from the need to respect their identity. Such as how you shouldn't misgender a trans person if they do a bad thing as that's transphobic but as soon as they find out that a Jewish person is a zionist, antisemitism is now okay.
You've got jews currently who have seen the lefts ideas and agreed with them. We agree that collective punishment is bad. We agree that a minority doing something bad doesn't take away from the respect they deserve for their identity. We have supported land back movements for the native folk of whatever country we live in.
Yet none of those actions are happening for us. Instead antisemitic tropes are used to blame us for everything.
I could go on about how the lefts actions in the West further fuel the right wing parties in Israel. How they view it as "see no jews are safe outside of Israel. We need to be more violent to secure Israel's safety for jews internationally.
I could go on about how the lefts actions are forcing jews out of the left and are making jews more likely than before to become right wing.
But none of that matters because what should be in the forefront, is a leftist ideal of discrimination based on religious, ethnicity/race, sexual orientation or gender, is bad.
Yet that completely escapes people when it comes to jews and antisemitsm.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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