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flokali · 7 months ago

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𓂆 | Write for Gaza

. . . . .

𓄷 Note: As a member of the Palestinian diaspora, I feel like this is the least I could do to help my people back in our beloved homeland. After 76 years of silence from the world, please do not look away and do not keep quiet – you can make a difference, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Due to the nature of the blog, I ask that you be at least 18 years old before requesting or interacting.

You can use the following links to pick a fundraiser of your choice to donate to: palestinescharitycomissionassoc, palestinian-fundraising, Hussein’s Masterpost and GazaFunds.

𓄷 Rules:

i. Take the time to read the post carefully and decide if you wish to participate. Pick a fundraiser from the list and make a donation considering the prices mentioned below, you are tasked with calculating the donation cost and what it translates to. For requests, make sure to check if there are slots available as I will only be able to take a small number at a time.

ii. Once you have made a donation to a vetted fundraiser, take a screenshot and blur out any identifiable/private information. The screenshot will be necessary for verification.

iii. Reach out to me via ask or DM with the screenshot of your donation, you can specify what it is you want to either [Sponsor a WIP] or [Make a Request] – slots can be reserved for MaR for up to five business days, please tell me if you wish to remain anonymous or not.

iv. I am not making any money from this, the money is to be donated to a vetted fundraiser directly. I am not an intermediary but serve as an added bonus to donating.

v. Donations made to “Khaled and His Family” will be prioritised.

𓄷 Sponsor a WIP:

𓂃 $1 USD equals to 100-150 words; therefore, 500 words is $5 USD and so on.

𓂃 If you want to ask for smut to be added to a fic (all the included WIP have space for smut) , that’s an additional $10 USD and will be asked for only once; if the “Smut Fee” is paid, the word count will increase by default of 500-1000 words, additional words by the original donator will be added to the $10. If the SF has been paid, it will be noted in the post and won’t be required to be paid for the same WIP again.

[If the SF is paid and the donor wants 1.5k words added, they’ll have to add $5, making the total $15].

𓂃 All WIPs have a goal of a minimum of 3k words, the word count will be updated as well as an estimate for the final count – however, it may increase if necessary.

. . .

𓄷 Make a request:

𓂃 $1 USD equals to 100-150 words; therefore, 500 words is $5 USD and so on.

𓂃 For reactions: each additional character is $0.25 USD (¢25) maximum amount of characters is 6 ($1.25 USD). The first character is not charged.

[A request for three characters and 1k words would total $11 USD ; Example: “How would Kaeya, Diluc and Albedo react to a Reader who is cold?” + “1k words” *A request for a one shot does not have the “Additional Character Fee”]

— Available slots for requests: 1

More information down below;

𓄷 WIP

—#๋࣭. I love you, I Own you ; Part 3

Final part to the “ILYIOY” series, meant to tie up the story and finish telling what happens to Reader’s family, Reader herself, and Childe’s feelings about what he’s done.

Current word count: 600~ words • Estimated word count: 9k words

Sponsored:

—#๋࣭. 777

You’re one of the last remaining people of your species, now seen as a luxury to be passed around to the highest bidder. In a twist of fate, Aventurine finds himself with the key – or price – to your freedom, although he never fancied himself a hero he doesn’t mind the way you look at him as your saviour.

Current word count: 1200~ words • Estimated word count: 6k word.

Sponsored: NSFW paid + 1k (700 left) words — Remaining 4k~ words ; estimated.

𓄷 Make a Requests :

—#๋࣭. I will write: yandere, non/dub con, most kinks, death, cnc, gore, cheating, peggings, dom/sub, etc. We can discuss more through message but I’m not open to debating on anything that is specified below;

—#๋࣭. I won’t write: Underage characters, bodily fluids (mainly piss nd scat), cxc, necrophilia, beastiality, unhygienic, vore, ddlg, etc.

. . .

—#๋࣭. Fandoms: Genshin Impact, Star Rail, DoL, Spy x Family, Tears of Themis, Enstars, Love and Deepspace, Wuthering Heights, Twisted Wonderland, Persona 5, Fire Emblem 3 Houses, Ikemen Villains, Identity V, A Date with Death, Chainsaw Man, Haikyuu!!, and What in Hell is bad?

* I’ll also accept unique OC’s made just for the request that you will be able to request for again in the future.

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threepandas · 5 months ago

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Bad End: Pray

Faith should not be transactional. Bartered to the highest bidder and sold as the winds shift. Bought with miracles and blessings. Heaped upon powerful champions and gifted at the sweet words of avatars. Perhaps it is old fashioned of me. Or maybe it is "naive" as I have often been accused.

To be honest, I am just not used to The Divine being so active.

Perhaps it is loyalty. Perhaps it is... faith. I do not know. But I can not imagine being swayed from the Goddess I serve. Not when... unlike BEFORE? I can... can actually FEEL Her presence.

I still laugh in disbelief sometimes. In AWE. Can you even IMAGINE? Sitting there, head bowed in prayer, in that quiet little temple of nowhere special, and... while expecting NOTHING? Feeling... feeling love. A gentle, all encompassing, hand that picks you up without moving you. Cradles your soul like a beloved child.

There aren't really words to explain what it feels like. It's somewhere between talking in circles, poetry, and gibberish. But BEAUTIFUL. So utterly, utterly beautiful. I can not comprehend why anyone would ever turn their back on her. Could EVER be bought with showy trinkets and bits of gold. Party tricks.

I am an outlier, in that regard.

Only myself and the Elders remain.

No one comes. Not to worship, not for blessings or wisdom. Not even to rest from the rain. Our humble temple more quiet then it has ever been. There was always SOMEONE. We are, after all, a temple too our Lady the Nox Viatoris. Keeper of those who travel at night, in places of peril, or should the worst occur... their soul's too safe resting. (Also, several small and fluffy nocturnal animals!)

"Night" was rather loosely defined, too. It honestly meant any place of low lighting. So a deep valley or cave worked too. Under belly of a city. Sewer system. We had smugglers, on occasion. They were generous. Honestly quiet devote. And as long as they didn't break the tenets of Our Lady's teachings? Well... what Oddly Weathy Worshiper with Working Knowledge Of Sewer Systems!

It was a well known joke. Everyone ignored them.

But one by one... they stopped coming.

The locals who's families had worshipped here for generations. The merchants who always came "just in case". The smugglers who "could use a bit of luck". Random travelers, guided by our Lady to a place of safety. I began to hear scoffs, as I went into town, from the younger generations. Get "concerned hints" from aunties and uncles I had know all my life.

Fellow priestess started too... drift away.

First seeming distracted, praying more, then praying less, going for longer and longer walks, their ceremonial robes getting increasingly half-hearted, then... after the final, damning stage of "staring off towards town a lot"? They would leave. Some with excuses. Others with vitriol. Our home colder and colder for each one gone.

The Elders heart's were breaking. They were watching the slow death of the only home they had ever known and could do nothing to stop it. The temple was dying. The children they had raised, the little ones who were all but grandchildren, abandoning them without second thought or simple discussion. For some whispered promise of foreign gods.

But I? I intend to stay, no matter what.

I who had been born to travels that did not want me, here in this temple that DID. Loved by these walls and this Lady. Who was given a second chance when my first ended so abruptly. Who would walk with Her one day. Proudly and with love. This was my home. Even if I had to take care of it by myself, I WOULD.

Things in town grew... vitriolic. Tense. Like a simmering heat had spread across the street where once, cool water flowed. It lurked beneath the surface. Volatile and burning, as bright colors seem to spread like sickness across the town. They felt... aggressive, somehow. Those colors. As though anyone NOT wearing them must answer for the crime of it.

I had them pushed upon me.

Again and again.

"It's cheerful!" "Look how bright and sunny they are!" "You'll look GREAT!"

I served a night goddess. The brightest color I was allowed to wear was off white to represent the moon and stars. Night blooming flowers if I could find them and justify it. It wasn't a matter of PREFERENCE. They KNEW this. I could NOT wear their gifts. Not the clothes. Not the jewelry. Not the decorations. None of it. Especially not with...suns... on it.

It was then I did more then just suspect. As I held the most recent gift, pushed upon me by well meaning friends. Struggling to remain patient. The sun sewn into the cheerfully dyed fabric MOCKED and sneered. Gaudy and ugly to my eyes. I turned, back to the temple, the rest of my shopping forgotten.

It could wait.

When I returned? I showed the Elders what I had been handed. Elder Antilla going so pale she nearly fainted. It was all that they had feared. At last, one of the major players had decided to swallow our tiny region whole. We were nothing but a small regional faith. Our Lady a weak but kind Divine in the grand scheme of things. She took care of us.

Could not offer us miracles and silks, honey and splendor. But she could love us. Protect our souls and guide us. The stronger Gods? Oh, they could offer SO MUCH more. Tempt and sway away Her faithful. Starve her into nothingness as they strip her of power. Consume her, as they had so many others before.

We had been safe.

Because we were far away and of little interest, tucked away between mountains that lead to nowhere of strategic worth. Few people to even convert. But seems... our time had run out. One of them had come for us. And oh... oh how EASY it had been for them to pour their power and wealth into swaying our faithful away. Buying their souls for a pittance of power and a laugh.

We had to sit down.

The mood grim.

The Elders would not live much longer, I knew. Perhaps that was why they were ignored. That, or the other God knew they could not sway them. They certainly would not sway me. I refused. Even if I had to worship alone. Became some cultist in the woods. I would NOT leave Her.

I prayed.

The silence felt deafening. But at least I was not alone. My Lady's arms held me close. As though trying to shield me from the world. Shaking, tears of grief that left no marks, dropping one after another upon my hair and skin. Suddenly the arms around me tightened in alarm. Pulled, as though commanding me to stand. To be ready to run. There was FEAR in that action.

I was on my feet at once. Turning towards the open air of the entrance.

Up the road, old and worn with the passing feet of countless travelers, came the crisp step of expensive boot leather. The rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds, all of it, seemed to hush as the sound of footsteps got closer. As though nature itself was afraid to draw attention of whatever was coming.

It was the light that changed first. No longer coming from just above us, yet somehow? It still was. The mid-day's sun was bright, cheerful, yet perfectly ordinary. Natural in the way countless summer day's have been. But the light coming from up the path? Low and shifting like a lantern swings, in a way that can only be ORGANIC?

It BURNED.

The sort of light that purges all in its path. That blinds and maims and burns. So hot everything becomes cold, as nerve endings char away. Like the blinding light off winter snow. Pale and reaching. Hungry. Consuming. W...What WAS that? It was getting closer. I backed deeper into the temple. Towards my Lady's idol.

The hush grew louder and louder, in it's terrible absence of sound.

The light brighter, as whatever IT was, got closer.

My eyes could see no shadows, so it probably wasn't real light. It hurt to look at. Yet it didn't hurt in the way staring at bright lights SHOULD hurt. It was painful because it had... claws? Thorns. Jagged, dragging edges that ripped at the something in me that SAW.

I could See because I needed to See, I think.

She NEEDED me to know what stood before me was not merely a man.

And THAT? That is the form it took. The liar and thief. A burning monster at the threshold of my home. Dressed in the finest silks and satins stolen faith can buy, the jewels glinting from his belt enough to buy several small nations. THAT was not a man. It just looked like one. Wore the face of one.

High Priest? Champion?

Goddess help me, an Avatar?

They were enmeshed. Woven so tightly they were all but an extension of the Divine. And it BURNED. Bright, holy, and terrible. A Sun standing before the Moon's own temple, with purging fire in its heart.

"Hello, little Thing. You've been quite stubborn, haven't you?"

They didn't raise their voice, yet still my bones felt like they rattled in my skin. The few windows we had, shook. Light fixtures swayed. I... I was afraid. I would NOT cower, but oh, Lady, I was afraid. His voice felt like the desert sighing against my skin. The edge of a threat.

"I lay out treats and you do not come. I invite the town and you will not hear me. You brothers and sisters kneel at my feet, yet you? You spurn me, too give your loyalty away for nothing."

I watch as he casually reaches to the air to his side. As though accepting something offered from someone who is not there. A cigarette. He tucks it into his mouth and cups the end, his finger glowing brightly as he lights it.

He takes a drag then exhales.

Letting the smoke whisp, rudely, past the unspoken barrier between us and into the temple proper. It's scent mixes discordantly with the incense. Making what was once lovely a cloying and choking mess. I watch him smirk as he takes another drag. Send more smoke inside.

His disrespect is deliberate.

"What can the festering night give, that the loving embrace of the day can not give better?"

His smirk rolls into the mimicry of a laugh. The monster's head tilted as though to consider my reaction even as the empty sound echoes against the temple's walls. It has the depth of a laugh track. The warmth of one. How... HOW has this CREATURE fooled ANYONE? Destroyed us so utterly? It is cruel.

"Ah~ so THAT'S what it is, you precious little Thing." He whispers, somehow the most terrible sound he has made so far. The power of it drags against me covetously, lingering like hands. "True Faith, given freely. You really do love her so, don't you? That wretched, unworthy, Nothing. Little Thing~, you should love ME instead."

It ended in a croon. As though trying to entice me. But all I could hear was static. The pounding of my heart as fear released adrenaline into my body, bringing the world into hyperfocus. "Me"? My ears had not deceived me, right? That THING in mockery of man's form... said "me"?

Oh, Nox Viatoris, our Lady who guides us, on darkest paths in deepest night... h.. hold my soul with kindness. Walk with me, on this broken, troubled path. That I may not face it alone. I... I am scared.

That... That was An AVATAR.

The extension of the Divine upon this mortal world. Not nearly their full power, but even a fraction of the INFINTE? Is beyond mortal capacity to fight. Only Avatars could handle other Avatars. On rare occasions, Champions, should they band together. But I... I was just a priestess. A humble child of nowhere.

Oh Goddess.

I back up. My back hitting the alter. I... I was probably going to die here. Our faith, wiped from the face of the map. I finally understood. He had come to stomp, like crushing ants, on what few hold outs dared linger at the fringes of his domain. Sent his Avatar to convert and destroy.

Our home would be nothing but rubble, wouldn't it? Generations of faith, gone. Our history, burned before his uncaring purge. At... oh Goddess, dear Lady, at least I would walk that final time with her. Could return the kindness she had shown so many. He was going to kill her. Kill US.

I...I refused to let her die alone.

Against my back, I felt the cool warmth of my Lady, leaning against me. Her unseen arms around me in comfort. For me or herself, I could not tell. It did not matter. I stood taller. Head high, shoulders back, feet shoulders wide. Shaking, yes, but unwilling to cower.

If I died today, I would walk proudly with Nox Viatoris.

The smile had slipped from the Avatar's face as it blankly regarded the spot directly behind me. Like a puppet sliding back into default in that absence of commands. I briefly wondered... who had he been? The faithful man, who gave up his form? Who was hollowed out and USED? He was beautiful. Had he been asked?

Or had he had this terrible thing inflicted upon him?

I would never know.

"That's rather annoying, you useless little parasite. She and I were having a conversation." The puppet's, the AVATAR'S mouth, barely moved. "Can't you go check on those wastes of space of yours? The ones that you've only barely managed to keep? They should be dead soon, you'll need to do your job. I'll take Good Care~ of this bright little soul. Don't bother coming back."

"No need." Came the deceptively soft rasp of the high priest. His normally kind face colder then I had ever seen it. Fierce and determined as he lead the other elders from the where they had been meeting in the gardens. Had the Goddess called them? Or had they simply sensed something was wrong?

"I am afraid that although the temple is said to be open to all, that is not, in fact, strictly true. Those that come here with malicious intent are not welcome. Nor those who come to cause trouble, intent regardless. YOU have caused grief and pain here. We do not welcome you to these halls. Please go."

Elder Lilam was subtly pushing me towards the back of the group. Their eyes somber as they met mine. I... I did not cry. There would been time for such things later, I hoped. I nodded back. Understood. Went, softly, on quiet feet. Past the alter, into the back, down the main hall on swift but not running feet.

To the back, where the wanderers bags were. For those our Lady calls suddenly to travel. To wander the roads in search of lost travelers in need of aid. I grabbed more then my fair share of bags. I... I did not suspect I would be coming back. Then into the back gardens. Where we grew herbs and vegetables for the kitchen.

The front of the temple SHOOK.

A terrible burning light. Heat and death. I barely kept my feet under me. Broke into a sprint. Away from the only home I had ever known. The Elders I was certain our Lady now walked to their rest. Towards the mountains and forests I had explored all my life. I... I could only hope they would protect me.

In my chest, the mantle of High Priestess settled. Heavy and mournful with our Lady's grief. I would have to carry the weight. There was no one else now. They were gone. With her. They had done all they could.

Felt their sorrow, their love, and it was all I could do not to let my tears blind me.

I needed to see the path. Could not risk missteping even once.

Behind me, down further below, and now hidden by the trees, I heard the temple crash and shake. As it was torn apart. Pillar by pillar, room by room, lifetimes of love and memories were destroyed. The murals painted in my childhood were surely gone by now. The hand carved doors that had lasted for centuries. Paint splatters and embroideries from generations of youth who had grown to call that place home.

Gone.

All of us, gone.

I ran.

I ran and I HATED myself for running. What could I DO? What could I POSSIBLY hope to DO? All I had left was to survive. Too carry them forward. It hurt. Worse then any breaking bone or burning skin. I couldn't even cry. I... I didn't have the TIME.

I hit the tree line. Didn't dare go too much higher. Didn't know if Avatars could fucking fly. Didn't want to find out the hard way. So many things I did not do. Was there anything left I DID do? Was GOOD for?

There was.

The shadowed place between two mountains. Mid-day had past. Afternoon was meandering towards days end. It would only get darker from here. Ha ha... where was this? When we need it? Oh, I knew. The monster timed his arrival well. At the height of his power.

But this was MY house now.

He may be stronger then me? But that meant NOTHING. I did not need power here. I needed SUBTLETY. A whisp of nothingness of a breeze of shadows. I could feel him, slow and steady, arrogant in his assumptions, pursuing me. He really did know NOTHING about those he destroyed. We were beneath his notice.

I hope the hubris burns as he chokes on it.

I slip between the mountains, into that deep rift of a valley, more crack then anything, and... VANISH. I am One with the Night. A traveler on Her path. Safe in her care. Sideways and one step removed from reality, as I race forward. No longer stumbling over uneven rocks and clambering on unstable terrain, the path beneath my feet is soft and smooth. I grin, as far away, that bastard falters.

"Oh, you clever little Thing. I forgot you still had tricks. Amusing~"

"It won't keep you from me though, I WILL have you in the end. And you will worship ME. Look only upon ME. And you will be my favorite, I think. I am going to chase you down, little Thing. So go ahead and pray. It will do you no good."

"You are going to be MINE, beautiful in the sunlight. You have no choice."

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kentocidal · 1 year ago

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the betrothal.

users: rex lapis x fem!reader

warning! this file has been corrupted! do not open! yandere!rex lapis, violence, description of a dead body, death of an unnamed character, power imbalance, age gap, pre-canon, like many years pre-canon, historical inaccuracies, ask to tag.

internal message: so uhhh. yeah this. this is an au i’ve been working on. this is my introduction to it p much. i hope this reaches other freaks like me so i have an excuse to write more yan!zhongli and get into the talks of enabler!xiao

new notifications! @kaedescara @yaekiss (want to get a notification? send me an ask off anon!)

“huh?”

you stood completely rigid in the elaborate dining hall of the large house that was not your own, your father’s hand on the small of your back, keeping you from running.

you turned your head to look up at him, blinking and feeling your chest go tight as he laughed awkwardly at your reaction to his statement. “darling, i’m sure you heard me. this is your betrothed.”

“but… what? i never…” you looked straight ahead again, at the man in front of you who was surrounded by his parents and a handful of guards, a sweet and tender smile on his face as he looked you over like you were furniture and not a person. your father patted your back to try and encourage you to step forward, but you stayed planted firmly in your spot next to him.

“honey, i know you remember me explaining this to you.” your father’s lips were near your ear as he mumbled to you, sighing. “if you didn’t find a husband, i would find one for you. i told you this.”

something inside of you twisted. something deep, carnal, dark. this was wrong.

you had known from the moment you came of age that something… something bigger was meant for you. your archon had called to you from the moment you first learned of him and his existence. his voice traveled through the echoes in the stone forest, telling you exactly where the good footholds were to ensure you wouldn’t fall. he made you feel lucky – it felt like you never tripped over stones or the boards in liyue harbor that other people stumbled over. you always had just the right amount of mora in your coin purse whenever you were hungry or thirsty or saw a brand new yukata in a deep brown and black that fit just right, no alterations needed. you felt blessed, felt that your calling was to be a handmaid to the archon, to his temple, keep yourself holy…

and your father was having none of it.

he had told you for the past six months that you were delusional, that you needed to focus on growing up and marrying off and bearing children to carry on your bloodline. you were the only daughter; your mother never produced a son before she passed. it was up to you, but you were not willing.

you felt your eyes start to well with tears and a scratchy lump settle in the back of your throat as you looked at this man, this stranger in front of you, and bowed slightly to him.

“pleasure to meet you,” came your meek, timid voice, shrouded in anger, panic, betrayal.

your betrothed smiled at your submissive stature, chuckling to himself and reaching to take one of your hands to press a kiss to the back of it. “the pleasure is mine. come, have dinner with us. please. it would make me so happy to feed you.”

and you went, because you had to. and you broke bread with this stranger, with this family that you were becoming forced to be a part of. this marriage would come sooner rather than later, and the idea of giving up your beliefs to make this man happy tore at you.

you could hardly eat the meal prepped for you, though it smelled delicious and looked divine. fresh pheasant and vegetables from a garden outside… you felt like you were going to be sick instead.

you forced some rice down your throat before standing and saying you had a headache, urging to be escorted home by your father. he did not wish to oblige, but your betrothed – what was his name again? – was kind enough to excuse you both early. it felt like one of the blessings your archon was bestowing upon you. he had to understand that this was not for you.

the walk home was dark and filled with your father speaking down to you about the disgrace you had brought to the family, how it was not in the bloodline to become a priest of any kind. you swallowed, and simply turned down the opposite fork in the road towards one of the statues of your archon, refusing to listen to the shouts of your father who demanded you return to him at once.

you instead slipped underneath the roof of the small lean-to temple, fussing about to get incense lit and leave mora in the plate before taking your place on your knees in front of the statue, hands folded in your lap after smoothing out the fabric there. the heady scent of incense filled your head and soothed your worries almost immediately, a brush of wind guiding stray hairs from your face, almost like a hand brushing them away.

you bit your lip before speaking into the wind, already feeling the lump in your throat start to shift and loosen, a fresh swath of tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “this isn’t what is supposed to happen, is it?”

silence in the wind. it feels still, suddenly. you hiccup.

“i’m supposed to be guided by you, am i not? you have always guided me to do the right thing, always ensured good things happen to me. if this is true… why do i feel so empty? why does this feel wrong?”

a rustle in the trees. you sniffle and shift closer to the base of the statue, tipping your face up to look at the hooded figure sitting far above your head. you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “i just need an answer. please. i don’t… think i ever want to be married. if there’s a way to escape this, something, anything, please… help me.”

you cried. you felt like you were in mourning. you felt so empty, so alone. for the very first time in your life. you felt like your archon’s eyes were not on you.

you stood up and dropped more mora in the plate, all that you had in your coin purse, more than you remember packing, before slipping off into the night.

you cried yourself to sleep in your childhood home, curled up tightly until the early morning when you rose to hear liyue in a commotion, groups of footsteps outside your door and running along the trails leading towards the harbor. it was unusually busy as you gathered yourself for the day and hurried to follow the crowd.

it seemed to part for you, people looking over their shoulders to find you and immediately bowing out of your way to let you through. you briefly wondered if news of your engagement made its way through the city already, that the girl who was the archon’s most devoted follower was leaving the fold to be married circulated enough to embarrass you, but you soon discovered this was not the case.

instead, you joined the crowd in the center of the city where the archon himself had descended upon the people, holding a limp body in his arms, a long dragon tail flicking at the sight of you. you swallowed and almost felt a scream bubble up, but nothing came.

you stared into the yellow eyes of rex lapis and watched the fire melt away into the eyes of a simple man. he dropped the bleeding body from his arms to the boardwalk of the harbor. it landed with a sickening crack, splattering blood and practically bouncing. the head of the man turned in a disgusting way, and you recognized the face of your betrothed immediately.

in a short moment the archon had stepped over the body of the man you had broken bread with and approached you, holding out a blood coated hand.

“there you are.” his voice was deep, booming, raspy. almost inhuman. his tail flicked under his robes and you could tell his hood was concealing horns that wrapped around pointed ears.

“what have you done?” was your initial reaction, one that you regretted immediately, because the face of your archon hardened like the stones he created in his wake.

“i am answering your prayers, precious one. did you not cry for me to help you? did you not beg on your knees to be saved from this responsibility?” rex lapis cast a glance over his shoulder to the body of the man that was still seeping blood into the wood planks of the harbor. “he was nothing. cursed to a life of solitude. i am relieving you. where is my thanks?”

you shook as you stared at his outstretched hand, large and wet with blood and claws long enough to rip your heart out.

you stared hard at him for a moment as the pieces that had been handed to you one by one by him throughout your life snapped neatly into place, and you felt like your very essence was being pulled in towards him as your smaller hand pressed into his.he smiled at you, a slight grin, knowing and wise, and his eyes seemed to crackle with a sickness you would pretend wasn’t there as he pulled you towards his chest. “you were made for me, my gem. only for me.”

#rex lapis x reader #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere!zhongli #corrupted file name: morax's priestess #<<< au tag to block #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli.txt #yandere.txt #woodrow.txt #yippee yippeeeee #posts where the target audience is me and me only

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wildernessuntothemselves · 4 months ago

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Now See Them Burn in Fire | Teaser 1

Just as unfounded are the rumours that the boy himself was at fault for his parent’s death. After all they failed to bear a live child after him. His mother’s womb becoming a graveyard for multiple of his lost brothers and sisters. In fact that is how she eventually died, while birthing one such departed soul.

His father wasn’t the same after. He turned cruel. You had felt sorry for the boy to be the subject of his father's anger and resentment. You even went out of your way to be kind to him every time you saw the marks of hate on his body or saw him crying by himself in the woods. For a very brief period, you may have even considered yourselves friends.

He didn’t appear evil from up close. He wasn’t so quiet and menacing. He was a child like all of you were. He wanted to play and laugh and enjoy himself, and you really enjoyed watching him do that. He was a silly child when you were alone together and for a short while it warmed your heart to see him let go around you

You even introduced him in secret to some of the magic only those raised under the guidance of the gods had access to, but he showed such interest in it and you couldn’t help but indulge one of his few desires. You told him secrets about the practice that even seasoned mages didn’t have access to–secrets you’d only known by eavesdropping on your own high-ranking parents.

He ate it all up, pushing you for more and more. You loved to talk to him about your practice. It is a very respected and esteemed position to be in but it can also be lonely as you can’t speak about it to most people, even amongst the fellow apprentices, each of you had your area of study and weren’t privy to much else. But no one knew you were meeting with him and therefore no one could stop you from divulging all your secrets to him. It was harmless. What would he even do with that knowledge? He’s a warrior just like his parents, not a very good one much to his father’s chagrin, but it meant that he wouldn't be able to do anything with the secrets you were exposing to him.

Still, he absorbed the knowledge fast, some would say concerningly fast. He would make off hand suggestions that would help you solve issues you'd been struggling with for some time. He would get you ingredients that were very hard to get from the forest and due to his help, you were able to make a mark for yourself as a competent mage, outshining your peers.

Beomgyu's eyes lit up every time his help would cause you to advance further in your training. He never cared about claiming credit for it. He would just smile and make you his special wildflower and mushroom soup to celebrate. It tasted like nothing you've ever had before and you craved it almost as much as you craved success.

You liked to see him smile, liked the way he looked at you as you gushed or complained about your training. Your foolish young heart liked to think there was a fondness in his gaze. It was a stupid passing fancy of course. You couldn’t possibly consider him seriously, not with the dark rumours around him and especially not after his father too passed in a uniquely gruesome way.

#whoops #now see them burn in fire teaser #mort talks #txt smut #in the full fic #yandere #irom age au #priestess reader #?dark gyu

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mistymem0ryy · 5 months ago

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some new work in the making... Morax/Zhongli enjoyers, I am but a humble servant preparing a new meal...

#mhmmm yandere zhongli but make it his petulant younger version #with younger we still mean more than a century old but oh well #somebody get this man his own prophetizing priestess #out here stealing from minor gods #shame #morax x reader #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader

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theoccoven · 8 months ago

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“I can take care of you so much better than him.”

Daan, the reincarnation of Theseus, muttered into Jooheon’s shoulder. “I was a king. I slayed a Minotaur. What has he done other than give you grief?” Jooheon didn’t say anything as he let the older’s hands under his shirt.

“Nothing my love. And you’re well aware of it or you would have defended him.” You could hear it clear as day, the obsession in his voice. Jooheon grew familiar with it the longer he’s known Daan. This obsession is covered up as love, twisted love for the younger in his arms.

It was everlasting and Jooheon staying in his arms oh so accepting of this love just fed into his deluded thoughts.

There was no escape from this, Jooheon was slowly accepting that.

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euniveve · 9 months ago

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Someone stop me im having a kinda dead dove dottore x reader idea and i cant have other fics hogging my to be written list

#☁️ - preachings of the priestess #hear me out- beauty and beast #yandere! dottore #aight imma go now

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anothanobody · 2 years ago

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Mikasa crying won’t sway emperor Eren really easily 😭 tbh even yandere Eren too. Those two are master manipulator.

Younger Eren? A slight percentage maybe

Risks Eren? He’s such a gonner when she’s crying

exactly. mikasa will be able to sway him in certain moments but for sure not when someone tries to hurt her or offends him directly. yandere will probably use her crying into his advantage like when she tried to escape after the misunderstanding, they even had sex after.

younger eren, his love for her is higher than his psycopathy and knowing he stuck her to him for life he'll do anything for her.

risks eren, he can see the little veil of glossiness in her eyes and he's automatically gone, unless he's blacking out. but right after he'd do anything, apologize, beg, everything.

#emperor!eren x priestess!mikasa #yandere!eren x mikasa #older!mikasa x younger!eren #risks em au

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yanderedrabbles · 22 days ago

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Yandere Greek Champion x Priestess Reader - NonCon

He was chosen by the Gods to slaughter, to strike down all who stand against him. Your city has fallen at last and he has come to claim his prize.

Yandere! Champion with his bronze armour and his scars, sunlight reflecting off him in battle likes he's Ares himself.

Yandere! Champion who cares for nothing but his own glory. He'll step over the bodies of his own men if it meant victory.

Yandere! Champion who's chosen as the head of the delegation sent to your city. The offer is simple - swear fealty to the Greeks, open the city gates and hand over your Champion to be executed.

Yandere! Champion who rides right up to the city walls, even when his fellow warriors stay far out of arrow range. Does he not care for his own life, you wonder, or does he simply think himself immortal?

Yandere! Champion who barely even tries to be diplomatic. Who seems to think war is a foregone conclusion.

When your prince refuses him, Yandere! Champion looks up at the royalty and clergy on the wall above him - the greatest and most powerful of the city - and he spits.

"I will take this city and crush your walls under my heels."

Yandere! Champion who catches your eye and holds it. You, just a minor Priestess of Athena, have somehow attracted his attention.

Yandere! Champion who smiles a slow, terrible smile and you wonder what God whispered carnage in his cradle.

Yandere! Champion who blows you a mocking kiss, even though your robes show your dedication to the virgin goddess.

Yandere! Champion who is true to his promise. His soldiers throw themselves at your gates until the bodies on both sides are piled higher than your head.

Yandere! Champion who cuts down your prince in battle. Who beheads him with one clean sweep and as you watch it happen, you realise he is no mere mortal.

He truly is the God of War's Champion.

Yandere! Champion who doesn't even cheer when the city falls to him. Who simply steps over the shattered gates and heads toward the temple of Athena, his xiphos dripping blood behind him.

Yandere! Champion who finds you just as you're about to run. You're the last to leave the temple. Your love for your goddess outweighed your fear but the clash of swords and plumes of smoke finally broke you.

You're on the broad stairs that lead to the temple when you see him, standing at the bottom and looking up at you. His cloak and the crest on his helmet are a deep scarlet and he looks like a spill of blood on the marble stairs.

Yandere! Champion who takes a step forward for each one you take back. Your hands are trembling and he notices it, relishes it.

Yandere! Champion who smiles at you again. His helmet covers most of his face so all you can see is gleaming bronze and bloodstained teeth.

"Little virgin priestess. Your goddess has abandoned you."

Yandere! Champion who finally reaches the top of the stairs and now that you're on even ground, you realise how he towers over you.

Yandere! Champion whose strides are much longer than yours and he gets closer with each halting step you take away.

"Why else would your city fall? You have been forsaken."

His blade twitches in his hand and it makes you jump. His eyes are on you - a colour so deep they look black. Hungry enough to devour you, devour the city, swallow the whole damn world.

For the first time, you feel afraid in your Goddess's temple.

Yandere! Champion who finally stops. His sword is still streaked with blood and it shines an awful red. His eyes dip from your face to your chest to your thighs. And nothing in his gaze seems noble or honourable at all.

"Run, priestess. Run to your Goddess and maybe she can save you."

You run.

You run through the temple, marble pillars blurring in your vision. The altar, the statues.... Surely no harm can come to you in the temple of Athena? Surely the War Goddess can protect one of her own?

Yandere! Champion who catches you at the base of her statue. Who grabs your hair and forces you to the ground.

Yandere! Champion who digs his knee into your back, one hand in your hair and the other gripping his sword. He's going to kill you, you think. Slit your throat and spill your blood on holy ground.

But he doesn't kill you. No, what he does is far worse.

Yandere! Champion who casts his sword aside and presses himself against your back, his weight trapping you under him.

Yandere! Champion who drags your chiton up your thighs, his breath growing ragged with want. Fingers digging into your flesh like he wants to sink hooks into you.

Yandere! Champion who was promised a prize.

Yandere! Champion who has levelled cities in the name of his God. Who's burnt temples to the ground. Who has forsaken his humanity for glory.

Yandere! Champion who was promised a prize and who demanded Athena's most beautiful priestess.

Yandere! Champion who trails kisses across your jaw and neck and shoulders. Whose lips leave blood behind.

Yandere! Champion who doesn't care to prepare you. Who lines his cock up with your cunt and sheaths himself inside you with one brutal thrust.

Yandere! Champion who pulls your hair so hard you arch your back. Whose weight on you makes his breastplate dig into your shoulder blades. Whose grunts echo in your ears.

Yandere! Champion who thrusts and thrusts and mercilessly keeps going.

Yandere! Champion who fucks you in the temple of the Virgin Goddess. Who desecrates Athena's temple and priestess both. And yet the candles keep burning, the fountains still flow clear.

The pain burns through your stomach like fire. And still you reach for her, for your Goddess.

Yandere! Champion who grabs your outstretched hand and forces it to the floor, who intertwines his fingers with yours in a terrible parody of intimacy.

You plead with her, your voice rough with panic and grief. But the statue's eyes are nothing more than sculpted marble.

Yandere! Champion who finally has his prize, after years of carnage and searching. And who will never let you go.

Yandere! Champion who cums inside of you, his voice rasping in your ear.

"Your goddess has abandoned you, little priestess. And I am all that remains."

And in the awful silence of the temple, with a killer's hands on your skin, you realise what it means to hate the Gods.

#Poseidon and Medusa inspired #Brisies and Achilles inspired #Yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #X reader #Reader insert #Yandere oc #Yandere achilles

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Yokai Harem Headcanons

Meet your (6) monster boyfriends!

Since the story will take a while to unfold, I decided to speed things up and properly introduce you to the characters. A little time skip to Reader becoming an onmyōji herself and renewing the bonds with the yokai men, this time at their request. They cannot bear the thought of separating from their darling and since she has reneged her life as a regular human being, someone has to keep her company. And so the days are spent exorcising evil spirits both in modern and feudal Japan, with a pack of demons following close behind.

[Main story] [Character Guide]

Content: female reader, monster smut, NSFW, obsessive behavior, reader is a monster hoe again but feigns mild reluctance

Kiritsubo

Kiritsubo is your very first yokai encounter and he almost immediately falls for you. He's always been at the receiving end of his master's wrath for not being able to use his powers, so much that even after Nakamaro’s ‘death’ he couldn’t sleep without being plagued by horrid nightmares. His back is covered in thick scars from the frequent punishments. You first begun to suspect his background when you jumped in to protect him from an incoming blow and he froze in terror, unable to look up and awaiting the anticipated discipline.

Needles to say that when he learns you're not like the previous onmyōji he becomes extremely clingy and needy. He can only rest if you're next to him and will often hug you for reassurance. You've shared a bed before there was any hint of romance, simply because he found your presence so soothing. That's not to say he relies on you for everything. In fact, he unlocks his nearly unmatched abilities purely out of his desire to protect you. He’s found his purpose in serving you, someone who showed him kindness when he needed it most.

As you go out into the world, he begins to question his exact feelings for you. An example of his intense musings: he's asked you, perplexed, whether he can kiss you like the people he's seen on the street. He's spent his entire life being trained by Abe no Nakamaro, so he struggles to understand how relationships work. He will be utterly oblivious to other people flirting with him (it happens every now and then, he is a handsome demon after all), but simultaneously worry that everyone is out to have you. He’s already very salty about the other yokai joining your side and will frequently remind them he was the first to accept you.

When you complete your transition as an onmyōji, the priestess warns you that you may no longer partake in any kind of bonding with your fellow humans. Kiritsubo, seated next to you, responds almost instantly with eyes sparkling in excitement: "Well, that doesn’t extend to yokai, does it? I can still make you my wife.”

Kiritsubo is very clumsy when being intimate with you for the first time, but it doesn’t take long for him to become rather addicted to the feeling. You often have to scold him to behave and in return he’ll be pouting and fidgeting until you finally give in to his pleading gaze. He’s very vocal and touchy and will leave you covered in scratches from all the pulling. Towards the end he’s a drooling mess, mumbling about how much he loves you and begging you to never, ever leave him.

Murasaki

Murasaki is very cold and sarcastic on the surface, but you soon realize he is the most caring and responsible of the group, always looking out for everyone and trying to keep them out of trouble. In fewer words, he's almost like a tsundere mother hen (he won't hesitate to put you in a headlock if you mention it, though). He goes along with your wishes and will politely listen to anything you tell him, but to others he remains stoic and even rude. You’re sometimes reminded of the preferential treatment when witnessing his aggressive way of dealing with his suitors, shooing them away with the utmost disgusted scowl.

“Huh? Why can’t I be nicer to others? Bold of you to assume my tolerance is not, in fact, a limited resource spent entirely on dealing with you.”

He's been your guardian from the day you met him. He taught you how to use a sword and how to properly cast spells and seems to have a solution for all your troubles. When you introduced the yokai to the modern world you assumed he'd struggle to adapt, but he was extremely quick to learn and is, to this day, accumulating knowledge at a dizzying pace. One wouldn't be able to tell him apart from a regular city dweller. Murasaki is the concrete definition of a jack of all trades, excelling in whatever he sets his mind on.

Given his status and skills, the other yokai have always been rather jealous of him, including Kiritsubo. Ironically enough, by the time Murasaki accepted his infatuation towards you, you'd already gotten close to Kiritsubo. Which resulted in a lot of unexplained jealous bouts from a yokai too prideful to admit he loves you just as much. (You eventually get him to confess and reach the agreement to distribute the wealth among workers.)

He will occasionally be in a good enough mood to share with Kiritsubo, but it frequently results in a bizarre competition between them as you awkwardly squirm underneath, overstimulated. More often he prefers to pull you aside after you've done the deed with another yokai and aggressively fuck you as a way to assert his dominance. "Oh, was he that good? Then why are you moaning much louder now?" He'll demand with a firm grasp around your throat. Sadly his extreme competitiveness extends to this area as well.

Suma

Among the yokai, Suma is the most easygoing one despite his intimidating appearance. Most evenings he’ll have a drink in hand, eager to chitchat and ramble by the campfire, with his relaxed laughter resounding across the place. He is very loud and blunt and will often need to be reminded of the colossal power imbalance between him and regular humans and demons. Although after accidentally dislocating your shoulder (he was terribly amused by your joke and gave you a friendly pat), he’s gotten much better at adjusting the amount of force he uses, especially with you.

You’ve only witnessed him serious on two occasions: first one is a recurring event, when he’s training alone. When you’re together, he’s always in a merry mood, letting you try out moves and spells on him and frequently praising you even after failures. His whole demeanor changes when he’s by himself, swinging the spear with a calculated, focused gaze that remains unperturbed until the end of his session. The second case is when you get hurt. Now, he does encourage you to fight, and your confidence in battle is what caused him to fall head over heels in love with you. He will immediately put a stop to it, however, if the opponent ends up harming you. Seeing your lips curl in pain is enough to set him off and send him into a full blown rage.

Suma is destructive in all the ways you can think of. Given his massive size, as much as he’d love to, having his way with you is not something that can happen spontaneously. Borrowing his powers can of course help your frail body to not immediately tear apart, but depending on how much self control he has (or lack of), you might end up needing urgent healing from Sakaki. Suma will be extremely apologetic for nearly fucking you to death, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. A more common approach is riding his hand, as one or two fingers are enough to make you dizzy. He’ll be satisfied just hearing your needy whimpers. He also adores watching you whenever you give him handjobs as your little, delicate hands struggle to hold onto him. You’re insignificant compared to him and yet you persevere, feisty and horny. His precious, tiny warrior.

Yuugiri

Yuugiri is by nature a manipulative, masterful liar, so it comes as no surprise that you had a hard time trusting him in the beginning. His habit of teasing you certainly didn’t help, as you could never tell whether he’s serious about something or not. Perhaps the greatest irony is that even when he tries to be honest, it comes out crooked. Such is the fate of a deceiving demon, although most people are only familiar with fox spirits. On his end, he loves that you’re so transparent and obvious, even occasionally naive. And so it took a lot of awkward pleading to convince you to renew a binding contract with him, given everyone was suspecting him of ulterior motives.

For Yuugiri, being part of such contract is the most vulnerable offering he could've given you as proof of his love. As your souls become connected, you can perceive his feelings in ways otherwise impossible to achieve. He willingly allowed you to be able to read his heart, and thankfully it worked. It was his last, desperate resort to get you to understand his affections. Do you finally see the earnest adoration he harbors for you?

He is the best choice if you're looking for a best friend to gossip with. He enjoys listening to your stories and pays great attention to every detail. He's also frighteningly vengeful, especially when it involves you. So if you ever complain about someone to him, know that he will remember it forever and will make sure to continuously get back at the offender in the worst possible ways and will only stop when you tell him to.

Now listen, I’m about to be quite crass but it is what it is: as a serpent demon he has a long, forked tongue and let’s just say everyone in the household can tell if he’s eating you out because it will be loud. It will be followed by the walk of shame, when you eventually have to come out of the room red-faced and sore-legged, with Yuugiri donning a devilish grin for the rest of the day. You always swear to keep it in next time, but within moments you’re tightly gripping onto his horns, mumbling his name in a feverish, drunken haze. Naturally, he can read you like an open book and this truth stands for more intimate matters as well. Leave it to Yuugiri to know what his darling likes best.

Sekiya

Sekiya has been fascinated with you from the moment you stepped into the ancient Tomb. To see the anxious, quiet Kiritsubo happily wag his tail after you and the stern, irritable Murasaki readily at your service…It was a sight most unfamiliar to him and he wondered how a mere human like you managed to whip them into this kind of submission. He refused to believe you’d be stronger than Abe no Nakamaro himself, yet after the battle - from which you emerged victorious - it suddenly occurred to him that it wasn’t fear or obedience coming from the two yokai companions. Just honest, unadulterated love. He felt his chest tighten with envy, all the resentment of being sealed in with an evil, hateful sorcerer finally erupting its way to the surface.

So when you offered him and Sakaki to join you (“What else is left to do among these ruins?”), he couldn’t agree fast enough. To think he, too, could be spoiled with the affections of someone like you. On the other hand, Sekiya is an insecure, nervous wreck of an overthinker and he felt like he couldn’t offer anything worthy in return. He’s a demon that casts barriers. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t have Murasaki’s genius, or Kiritsubo’s raw power, or Suma’s brute strength…What use could you possibly find in him? Hence the constant need for reassurance. He will need you to pull him out of his melancholy every now and then, just a small nudge from the savior he so worships.

It’s an extremely rare occurrence, but Sekiya can get cheeky if his ego is stroked properly. So, for example, he’ll take advantage of the fact you’re both alone in the modern world and show you the handy usage of his barriers: a crowded intersection overflowing with people, and yet no one can see him greedily thrusting into you right in the middle of everything. It’s the high of sprawling you out in public without actually being seen. It’s also one of the reasons you no longer take him furniture shopping. Last time you asked him to help you pick a new table from Ikea and were confused by his requirement of it being “high enough”. Before you could ask for further explanations, the immediate vicinity started twirling into a blur and his heavy arm bent you over the surface. “Let me demonstrate”, he purred in your ear. Sure, no one saw you dripping with his cum, nonetheless scanning the items with your clenched legs and deep crimson face was humiliating enough.

Sakaki

Despite his gift to heal and revive, Sakaki is a terribly miserable demon, often plagued by gloom and death. He is especially receptive to negative emotions, and given your souls are connected, he is the first to detect any change in your mood. (You had to learn to block out the persistent throb of jealousy that tugs at your heart whenever the yokai is particularly insecure.) He takes great pride in the fact that he can understand your sadness better than anyone. The second you feel down, he’ll be right behind you: “Worry not, we shall suffer together. Such is the fate of lovers.”

The first time he joined you back into the modern world, you’ve perhaps mistakenly introduced him to classic literature you assumed he’d like. He indeed became infatuated with authors like Poe, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Shelley, Hoffmann. For the first time in his long life, Sakaki felt understood, and you’re glad to have played a role in his new interest. Yet you can’t help the shivers running down your spine whenever you become the target of his overflowing, renewed inspiration. Grim, ghastly paintings, deplorably obsessive poems…You’ve unleashed an authentic Romantic poet whose only muse is you.

He’s a master of eerie awkwardness, more so now that he has access to modern entertainment. You were excited when he asked you out on a picnic date, only to discover you’ve been taken to a foggy graveyard. He enthusiastically explained his choice: you can scout burial plots in case one of you dies (he’ll die with you, no worries), it is a stunning reminder that his love for you is eternal, and you might even find potential names if you ever want children. Another time, when you rented a boat during a sunny day at the lake, he cheerfully wondered how you’d look if you were to drown (still as beautiful as ever, he’s certain). Ah, but he does not dwell on dark things only. He recently took you to see the famous Cirque du Soleil and he was equally mesmerized by all the light and colors. It was Corteo: the story of a funeral cortège for a clown.

Sakaki does not like sharing and prefers to hang out with you alone, without the other demons. In fact, he’ll spend the day holed up in his room, writing or painting, or go out on lone walks if he knows you’re messing around with someone. He’d rather not hear anything that would cause him turmoil. The only exception is Sekiya, as they spent decades in isolation together within the sealed Tomb, and they both share a similar lack of confidence. In this case he won’t mind laying you on him and offering the above position to his friend, or casually joining your fun if he sees you together with Sekiya.

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threepandas · 2 months ago

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Bad End: My Faithful

Cling. Cling. Sacred bells and jewelry clatter, strike and move, in synch with song. No beat is wasted. No step, anything but sure. Muscles roll in the moonlight. He is beautiful. Enchanting. We gather. Each for different reasons. Each to worship something. As all of us, worship the divine.

The steps having meaning, I am told. They combine into a prayer. Swift and flowing, haunting as it is. His feet are so certain. His movements so graceful. It's no wonder the Gods love him so. His faith shines so purely. The high priest of Nox, beloved child of Night and Mind.

It's appalling, to me, that I should get to see this at all.

Like some cheap dancer on display, the King has demanded he perform, for the "sacred maiden" to witness. Ha. Sacred to WHOM? Certainly not us. The Lumos have been creeping like a sickness. Imbalancing the world, yet daring to proclaim themselves cures. And now? NOW? They have called upon their God to defy the natural order.

An otherworldly soul.

"Sacred", my ass.

She has bewitched the royal family, who already coddled the Lumos. Begun to collect powerful men like trinkets. And now? Now she wants to "learn about the Nox"? Ha! With out a shred of respect! It is because our High Priest is handsome. Because everyone knows that. I... I want to weep. Refuse too, during this sacred Rite.

They have made cheap, lustful spectacle, of one of our most holy rites. A sacred ritual dance. Meant to be perform only in the presence of the inner temple Grand Worshipers. Those who had cleansed themselves and been made pure.

Not... not those who would ogle him. Look upon him like a courtesan dancer.

What threat did they use? What disgraceful tactics? I stand amongst other Priests and Priestess', both in awe and sickened to my core. We have no right to be here. To see this. But... but we WILL. By Nox, none of us will leave.

I gathered as many as I could, when I heard. The purification baths ran from sun down to sun up. We had to borrow every tub we could find. More then a few of us skipping over a day's worth of meals, just to stay pure.

We bunked six or more to a room, traveled for days. But... but by Nox, I gathered them. Every Temple and worshiper I could find. And we are Pure. We are with him. Through us, I hope, Nox is with him, and... and that this ugly desecration of our ways, this foul spectacle, will not mar his soul.

I pray.

Watch, disgusted, as the so called Sacred Maiden "ooos and aaahs" like this is some festival event. Eating food as she blushes and ogles a holy man. The royal family around her, having the audacity to openly look bored. Only the youngest prince refuses food, wear properly dark colors. Treats this as the uncomfortable, twisted, but still holy event that it IS.

Perhaps all is not lost.

The Dance ends.

She has the audacity to CLAP.

The Lumos worshipers in the crowd begin to follow her lead, before noticing the appalled stares from our side. They awkwardly trail off. The youngest prince has closed his eyes in horror. You do NOT make NOISE after the Dance. You LISTEN, in a moment of silence, for the wisdom of Nox, as you consider your troubles.

Why don't you spit in our God's FACE next, you wretch!

You've done EVERYTHING ELSE.

Oblivious, she excitedly chatters, loudly, to her Royal lover. Points down to the High Priest in clear question and intent. No. NO. Absolutely NOT! I could not stop this travesty, but I would rather die at this point, then see it go further.

I step forward. Crossing the unspoken ritual line. My fellow Worshipers inhale sharply. What am I DOING? Have I gone insane? They must wonder. Perhaps I have. So be it. But from the corner of my eye, I see the Lumos harlot bouncing down from her viewing box, dragging along an indulgent royal. Entitled and presumptuous, they have taken ENOUGH.

My hand comes up to my night cloak. Ceremonial, yes, but beautifully indistinct. The wearer could be anyone. My strides lengthen. No more. By Nox, there will be no more.

His Holiness stands where the final step left him, head tilted back in prayer, eyes closed. Face somber in the face of this great insult. He has not bowed before such indignity, as what son of the Gods ever would? Before a mere King.

We, by all rights, should never meet. I am a simple, small time, temple keeper. A handful of Worshipers at best. But my faith can not, WILL NOT, let me stand idle. My presumption is unacceptable... but allowing His Holiness to be drooled over like meat? Be treated like a novelty and toy, to be trotted out for some Lumos woman's amusement? That is unthinkable.

I murmur apologies, even as I drape my cloak around his shoulders, raise the hood. Turn and guild him, gently but with insistence, back towards my fellow Worshipers. The Royals have noticed. Call for me to stop.

Not once do I break stride. They can call all they like. I will not.

The others have figured out my plan, simple as it is. Their loyalty is without question. Gently they drift forward, as though simply making room for each other. Parting to allow us into the crowd. Swallowing us instantly. A cloak is thrown over me by an older Priest, a spare, it seems. I nod. Keep walking.

His Holiness has lost his somberness, his touch of anger. The cold blade-like bite of rage. His arm slides around mine. Merely two Worshipers, out for a stroll. The curl of amusement at the edges of his lips. Behind us, Royal gaurds are roughly shoving people out of the way. The Nox are not making it easy.

Enough is enough.

Down the road, gaudy Lumos gaurds have cut off the path. Their precious little Maiden wants her amusement. If she seeks to meet a holy man? Then it does not matter that he is not for her to meet, that his faith has rules and traditions to adhere too. The spoiled child must have her toys. The burning light will consume as it pleases.

Ritualisticly painted fingers slid between mine. A cool hand, humming with power, gentle as it gripped my own. Startled, I looked down. His Holiness was holding my hand. His grip having casually slide down, even as he remained intertwined. He leaned, as we passed by an alley, nudging me into it. Swinging around me, on dancer's feet, to lightly brush the brickwork edge of the entrance with his other hand.

The one that was solid black, as a night without stars.

All light disappeared.

Behind us, I could hear the noise and fuss of the street. But only a few steps in? It disappeared. Everything hushing, like a heavy blanket upon the night. The stone beneath us... not cobbled. Not brickwork either. A Worshiper of the Light, I imagine, would be terrified. But I? I was in AWE.

It was the Night, concentrated. Shadows and darkness, yet I could see. Holy in its silence. It's quiet contemplation. There... there were colors, here, that I could not begin to name. A softness. Yet? A danger.

This was a place that would entice you. Call to you. Invite you to ponder and rest. Have no concern for the harsh light of day, the trouble of man. You could wander forever. Never to return. Sleep for centuries, uninterrupted. It was no wonder, that Nox did not grant this wonder to the common disciple. The strength His Holiness would need, not to go mad? To become lost? Was unimaginable.

I turned to him, certain the wonder must be painted on my face. My jaw on the floor. He seemed delighted by my reaction. A charmed look on his face. I had so many questions. Was uncertain I was even allowed to ask. Where would I even begin? Could I even begin?

"Ask," he allowed, voice soft and inviting. Tucking my arm close. Then moving to slide his arm around my body, no doubt to guide me. "I will-"

"YOU."

The word snapped and cracked through the air, like a great shattering. A command and accusation. It echoed in my bones, rattled in my soul, even as the silence if this place swallowed it's edges. I froze, midstep. Because... because that was impossible. That voice. It could not possibly be behind me.

Because....

His Holiness was standing right next to me.

"Unhand that child, you wretched thing!" Came the command from behind us. The cadence unmistakable, the sheer presence, impossible to match. I had attended enough sermons to know. "Did you think I would not find you?! Not see the chaos you cause in my name? I am not so blind!"

"....aren't you?"

That was not his Holiness voice.

Fear, like the branching death of a lightning strike, shoots through me. Horror and panic, crashing together in a suffocating dance, that commands me to move. Now. NOW! Move!!

I try to jerk away from the imposter next to me. Only to find that I can not. My body pressed against his side, like lovers on a stroll. When? When did he?! How did I not notice!? No. I DID notice. But thought nothing of it! Because His Holiness would never act untoward. Is a respectful and holy man. Oh Nox! But this is not-!

"Now look what you've done. You've upset her. How rude of you, Priest of Nox." Chides the imposter, even as my breath picks up. As I struggle harder, to no avail. No! No no NO! Help me! Somebody-! PLEASE!

His other arm comes up as he turns towards me, about to wrap around me like a cage. I feel tears begin to burn my eyes. Betrayal and fear, confusion and horror, what... what is HAPPENING!?

A shard a night, black and filled with stars, sings death and it shoots between us. Forcing the imposter to lean back. Away from me. The first is followed by a hail of more. Making him step back. One step. Two. Giving me just enough room to struggle free and stumble back.

"Keep your lustful eyes away from that child, Priest of Kháos! You have perverted, desecrated, enough! You will go no further."

Never had I so much as heard, much less seen, the High Priest in such a fury. And it WAS him. It could be no one else. He wore his robe, in full, prayer paint delicate across his face and hands. Starlight clung to his night black hair, danced in his eyes. He was a moon, a light, in this softly shadowed place. How... how could I have mistaken the imposter for him?

Desperately, I tried to run to his side. That pillar of strength, of faith, that would guide me through this nightmare. I barely got two steps. My cloak captured in an unshakable grip.

"Ah~ ah~ ah~, none of that, dear. We're not done." The imposter said, voice light and scolding. As though I was just being silly and difficult, not struggling desperately to escape. "And we were doing so well! Didn't you like me, dear? You were so thoughtful and charming. So cute! I've certainly come to like~ you~♡"

My terrified gaze met his Holiness', in both forever and an instant. There was fear for me there. Strength. Determination. The eyes of the man that had lead us all. With kindness and hope, faith and compassion. A brother and father and friend. I... I could see the exact moment... he decided.

He lunged forward, holy blade surging into being. Cutting through my cloak.

"GO!" He shouted. "RUN! Nox be with you!"

I run.

The silence is consumed behind me. Crashing and clanging. Whoosing and booms. The sounds of great, terrible battle between the powerful. All I can do... all I can hope to do? Is get to a safe distance. Survive this madness. Believe in his Holiness. He will win. He... he MUST win! He is the High Priest of Nox. A child beloved by the gods. He... he MUST win...

Right?

The shadows hide me, and for that I amgrateful, but they also hide all paths beneath my feet. The soft darkness is endless. Running, running, running. Long after it all falls to silence. Even as my lungs burn and my legs cramp. I... I don't know where I am. Can no longer hold back my tears.

What have I DONE?

I brought the loyal to the filthy alter of an imposter. A false idol. I have made apostates of the faithful, lead them astray! Nox, forgive me, I have betrayed my own family! Your people! I sob, curling into myself. I... I didn't mean too! I swear!

Alone, I pray in the dark.

Eventually though, my tears run dry, and all I can do... is wait.

I can not escape this place under my own power. No amount of running will find an exit. And sooner or later? Either there will be a victor... or both His Holiness and the Imposter will perish, and I will starve. Or perhaps be lost to this place? I do not know. All I can do, now, is... is face it with dignity. Wait. Pray.

.......alone.

Steps. Playful and almost dancing. Skipping and swirling erratically to a beat all their own. Discordant humming, three different song all at once, overlapping poorly. Dread seeps through my veins. I... I do not recognize the voice. Yet, I do. If it were to... to pretend to be...? Oh Nox.

"Darling~, there you are! My, my, you ran quite the distance! Didn't you?" The jingle of bells and discordant voices, shifting together as he speaks. I feel frozen. But that does not save me. The imposter merely meandering and dancing his way around, to loom directly above me. "Found~ you~, ha ha!"

As though it were a joke and not a horror. My vision filled with bright and garish colors. Bells and scarves. My cloak, like damning accusation, still draped around the liars shoulders. Eye level to a belt of many different sized bells and beads, I look up. A terrible smile lays in wait there, to greet me. Covetous and manic. Filled with rending teeth.

"You know the problem with assumptions, sweetness? It's the risk that you could be wrong! You go into a situation, think to yourself 'oh, I'm just gonna face off against a boring, lame little priest, like me!' when in REALITY? Your about to pick a fight with something so, SO much better."

"See," the imposter squats, as though about to reveal a secret, just between the two of us. "Cutey," A claw tipped had comming up to slide across my cheek before with a light pat, he decided to grip it. "Kháos? Oh He doesn't HAVE a high priest. No, no! Why waste the time? The effort! You gotta train those. And it's SO easy it lose um."

An exaggerated mockery of sorrow, before the grin returned.

"No, see, Kháos? HE has an AVATAR~! Isn't that fun? And you'll never guess, sweet, who that avatar is~. Go on. Guess." I was frozen. The level of power he was suggesting... oh Nox. No. Please, no. His Holiness was... "That's right! ME. Such a smart girl~! And you know what I've always wanted to do? Steal a pretty little priestess of my very own!"

"You and me? Well get along nicely, sweetheart. You're gonna covert great~♡"

There was no way out. The grip on my face threatened to bruise. All I could see was sharp, sharp teeth and a mad man's grin. Oh, Nox! Oh, NOX! Someone, anyone! Please! Even the Lumos at this point! I called out... but nothing answered.

"Worship at my alter. Just you and me, dear! I can't wait to burn the world down!"

"Now, close your eyes, give us a kiss, and let's pray, m'kay~♡?"

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #yanblr #reader insert #yanderecore #priestess reader #yandere avatar #love at first kindness #uh oh spaghettio #trapped reader #fake religion #protag chan still being hella disrespectful to that fake religion though #for shame Protagonist-chan #bad End my faithful au #bad end my faithful

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ne-videl · 10 months ago

Text

𝓾𝓷𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓰𝓮

♡

yandere Poseidon x fem reader

hide your tears and smile, little goddess.

yandere, unhealthy relationships, objectification, angst, power imbalance, depressed reader, forced marriage, poor english, sfw. first half – Poseidon's pov, then yours.

word count: ~1.5k

a/n: hii everyone!! how have you been? I have no ideas. like, absolutely. art block I guess?? anyway, have some of my old stuff. this is my least favorite yandere trope, but I love angst, so sometimes I go for it. by the way, when I first started it, I wanted to write a super idolized fluff but... well, we have what we have, or "why you don't want to marry Poseidon". hehe big booba man hehehe

the endless ocean is noisy outside the huge windows.

today, the sea sings a memorial service for you.

two people at the altar – the god and his bride.

Poseidon wants to smile rapaciously at her shaking figure.

she's afraid, poor thing. who wouldn't be afraid? he is, after all, the god of all gods, known for his cruel and merciless temper, the lord of the seas.

and she will become his lady very soon.

[name].

her name spreads like ambrosia across his lips.

even her name is so ordinary, so human, as, indeed, everything else about his charming wife.

she was a priestess in Poseidon's temple: in his own, so there's nothing wrong in taking what was already his. he noticed her by accident.

[name] was sitting hunched over, touching some bright flowers with her bruised palms. he liked to visit this temple sometimes: it was quiet and peaceful in the atrium, noisy humans did not flicker before his eyes.

little human girl did not even flinch when he silently stood next to her, only continued to look with big and very sad eyes at the colorful flower bed.

at their second meeting, she greeted him.

at the third time, she dared to start an idle conversation.

the fourth, and she talked about life in the temple.

at the fifth time she asked why he was coming here.

Poseidon always stood silently next to her, looming over her like a suffocating shadow. he was amused by her chattering, and, unexpectedly for himself, found her presence soothing, pleasant, unlike other humans, the mere sight of whom made the eye of the deity twitch.

life was bad for her in the temple.

[name] told him, she was sent to this place when she was still a girl, and she spent her whole life by the cold blue sea.

new head of the temple did not like her, saying that there was nothing for women to do here. that she should get married, but who needs her?

Poseidon saw the marks of beatings on her girlish body.

so he took her with him. she served in temple made in his name, spent her short life at his domain – it is quite natural that she will become his wife.

of course, it is unheard of that god marries a human – but does he really need someone's approval?

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

Hades advised to propose to her. it's the way humans do it.

Poseidon did not ask for her consent, for him it was just a formality: of course she would say yes, he was sure.

he will dress her in the finest silks, she will own the most beautiful jewels on all Olympus, the sea itself would be at her feet – how could a human girl want more?

smile spreads across his face as he sees her eyes widen, as she begins to shake – no doubt, from embarrassment – and his palm rests protectively on top of her head.

of course she agreed, how could it be any other way?

his fiancee is incredibly sweet. but weak and naive at the same time, like the rest of the human race. but he will protect her, give her a better life.

she must be very grateful to him.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

Poseidon remembers their wedding well, how [name] looked in amazement at the beauty of Atlantis, at the greatness of his seas.

in white robes, with downcast eyes, she swore an oath binding her life forever to a cruel deity, accompanied by singing of nymphs and the sound of the ocean.

she was now a goddess herself, whether she wanted to or not. of course, she wanted to, it couldn't be any other way. she loves him.

and, as the new lady of the seas, she will spend her now eternal life by his side. Poseidon will make sure of this no matter what.

she fearfully puts her small palm into his, while he, her husband, leads her through the corridors of the palace. [name] is silent. probably still embarrassed.

from now on, she will be the most beautiful ornament of his possessions, the shining pearl of Atlantis – his precious property, belonging only to him. and the sparkling ring on her tiny finger was proof.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

"wife." – [name] immediately turns around, smiles, comes closer.

his hand rests on her waist, his grip firm, possessively strong. she doesn't notice.

or pretends not to notice.

over time, [name] got used to him, cheered up, blossomed. it couldn't have been any other way, right?

songs, dances appeared, bright flowers and ringing laughter in the cold and empty corridors.

she became friends with his brothers, was able to conquer the proud Aphrodite, whom she now called her friend with visible joy.

Poseidon is pleased to consider himself a good husband.

he loves to see his wife smiling, laughing.

even if it's not just with him. it's better to be patient for a while, he thinks, than to lose her cheerful chatting for the whole evening.

though, she's cute even when she's angry.

Poseidon was gentle with her. allowed her much, much more than others, even spoiled her. [name] was his wife, after all, so he had to make sure she looked good enough.

he's a good husband.

[name] never contradicted him, never raised her adorable voice at him, never was not too selfish.

although deep down, he would like her to become more spoiled. so that, like him, she would not tolerate anyone's presence, except, of course, her husband.

to think of it, why would she need anyone besides him? she can be quite happy within the walls of the palace.

Poseidon dismissed these thoughts from himself – for some reason, his wife liked to be in society, even if without him.

well, he's willing to put up with her quirks as long as she knows who should come first for her.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

the outfit given by Aphrodite was very becoming to his spouse. Poseidon loved to see her beautiful.

in luxurious clothes, undoubtedly worthy of the wife of a sea god, or in the warm candlelight in the night darkness of their shared bedroom, happy or shedding tears, [name] was equally beautiful.

the precious treasure of Atlantis.

he was never moved by her tears – even if she was crying, of course she loved him anyway. [name] is happy. so why make a big deal about it?

none of the pathetic mortals could take care of her like he did. none of them would love her the way he does.

"you are my wife. you're not going anywhere."

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

you didn't tell anyone about your sorrow: didn't share it with anyone – neither with Aphrodite, nor with the nymphs and mermaids, your husband's brothers remained in the dark too.

a little human girl shedding tears by the huge waves.

an unhappy goddess, forever imprisoned in an cold palace, surrounded by hypocritical deities, in the iron grip of an unloved husband, eaten alive by sadness and suffocating hopelessness of her position.

none of them saw you as an equal: you were only a curious little thing, a way to dispel eternal divine boredom, and the Olympians, of course, did not bother to hide this fact.

you didn't know what your husband found in you, and you didn't want to. sometimes you wished that back then, many, many years ago, he would have left you in that temple, or that you would run from the garden in terror, or anything. anything.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

you knew your place well.

by his side, always, no matter what. from the very day when you stood at the altar and did not dare to raise your eyes to your fiance, you were no longer anything human.

from that moment, you became an ornament, a property, a beautiful doll. nothing more.

Poseidon wanted to see you happy – and you smiled, laughed, you did everything that you thought he would like.

are you satisfied? please tell me you're happy. I'm scared.

scared.

your husband allowed you the freedom he thought his property could have, and you greedily soaked up every drop of it.

you're lucky, you told yourself, you're very, very lucky. It could have been worse. any other girl would give her soul to be in your place, – repeated, looking at your own reflection in the cold glitter of jewelry.

you must be like it yourself. a thing. a thing, of course, must have an owner, and a thing cannot be sad.

Poseidon's cold hand rests on your waist, pulls you into his arms, and you do not allow yourself to resist: you exhale into his neck, placing your small palms on his broad back.

your spouse is purring contentedly.

he's happy. you can relax a little.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

sea nymphs comb your hair, weave pearls into thin braids, fold strands into an intricate hairstyle.

"what's bothering you, madam?" – the lady of the seas does not bother to answer, your dead calm gaze wanders over the high ceilings, walls and huge windows of your chambers.

a common topic of idle conversation among the Olympians was Poseidon's boundless adoration for his charming wife. cruel god who fell in love with a mere mortal – what a beautiful story.

even the ocean itself seemed to dote on you. whenever the warm waves caressed your feet on the coast, your dried-up insides were filled with melancholy. your body was here, in Atlantis, which became a prison for you, and your soul, which remained to pain in your chest human, floated far away. your tired mind wandered, and you are a little girl again, and once again the bright sun warms your childishly plump cheeks, and in your hands are colorful flowers, and the kind grandpa from the temple strokes your head.

Poseidon will be coming for you soon – as always.

as always, you will talk about something, laugh, sitting on his lap in the throne room. or in one of the living rooms, or in the bedroom – you were not allowed to leave him without permission.

you flinched when you felt his strong hand on your shoulder.

Poseidon smirked.

his wife is not going anywhere. she will stay with him.

forever.

not the best one of my works but uh well I felt like posting something

maaybe will be deleted since it doesn't look as good as I thought it would be in english

btw thinking about writing tartaglia fic soo the next one is probably gonna be genshin man again

thanks for reading!!

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #record of ragnarok #ror #record of ragnarok x reader #poseidon x reader #yandere poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon #misha.writes #yandere

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wildernessuntothemselves · 4 months ago

Text

Now See Them Burn in Fire | Teaser 2

Beomgyu frowns. “You don’t visit me anymore.”

You scoff. “It is not proper for an unwed woman to meet strange men in the night.” And in any case you would never visit him.

“You meet Kai.”

“That is not your concern.” You hiss at him. Kai is the reason you must end whatever this is. He is one of the boys who have given you a gift. He is the son of the tribe’s leader. You would be crazy to turn him down and even crazier to let whatever delusional fancy Beomgyu holds for you ruin your chances with him.

“Why did that make you angry? Are you letting him do things to you that you know you shouldn’t?” He confronts you, expression unnervingly blank. “Are you letting him under your skirts?”

You raise your hand up and slap him, watching a red handprint bloom across his handsome face that scowls as he reaches out and grabs the arm that hit him. You try to hit him again with your other hand but he grabs that too and you scuffle. He easily overpowers you. He was still trained in the warrior way despite him quitting years ago, and he pushes you down on the grass, climbing over you and pinning your hands above your head with one hand, using the other to cradle your face.

“Do you let him kiss you?” He asks you, face still blank apart from a muted curiosity. He was so close you can see every individual eyelash framing his gorgeous dark eyes, every tiny blemish on his otherwise flawless skin, the elegant slope of his nose, the firm but soft pillowing of his lips.

“Fuck you.” You spit out, unwilling to give him the answer he already knows.

“So you have.” He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. “Then it’s only fair if I get a taste too.”

#he is so 😵‍💫😵‍💫#now watch them burn in fire teaser #mort talks #txt smut #well in the full fic #iron age au #priestess oc #?dark gyu #yandere

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batsythoughts · 2 months ago

Note

NO RUSH

Another request I had in mind

Romantic Yandere Batfamily x female priestess reader with healing powers.

Summary: Reader is a beautiful and kind person who lives in Gotham, and goes to school there. She is a senior that is in an archery club that she loves so much and everyone in school likes her and is very nice to her there. The batboys(along with duke,cassandra,and Stephanie) also happened to go to school there(I will let you pick what grade they are in because i would know where to set them). When they accidentally bump into reader they could not take their eyes off her. While walking home from schol she see(choose any fam member) injured and helped them back to her home(lives in a shrine). When they wake up they are very grateful for her help and goes back to the manor to come up with a plan to bring you back to the manor,so you could be safe with them.

Sorry for long summary,and this is the priestess outfit reader is going to wear:

Gotham High school outfit:

This is such a unique request and I absolutely love it! I know it says romantic, but I made it platonic because I read it that way when I wrote this, so I hope that is alright. I hope to do your request justice.

Enjoy Yandere Batfam x Priestess Reader!

To say that Bruce was expecting his kids to have a normal school year was an understatement

He was very hopeful that they would all manage to get by without any 'life altering' incidents, as Dick had called it

Luckily, the only thing that would cause the most stress would be the fact that Dick was finally graduating this year, signaling the end of an era

The first day back, half of the kids were excited to meet up with with friends while the other half were dreading having to do homework in the first week back

So, after Alfred straightened out all of their appearances for a family picture, the children got sent on their way to school

When they got the school, Dick made sure they all stuck together so he could see each of them into their homeroom class

After finally getting to his classroom for first period, Dick chatted with the friends he had in that class

He looked around the room before his eyes landed on a girl sitting near one of the corners, talking with a few other students while waiting for class to begin

He discreetly asked his friends who you were, not remembering you from the previous years in school

One of them explained how you moved to Gotham last year to live in the temple that was near the edge of town

Another mentioned how they were surprised that he didn't know about you with how popular you became around the school in such a short tine

Dick simply shrugged as he kept staring before you glanced over and sent him a polite wave

He waved back slightly awkwardly as the teacher finally demanded the students attention

By the time it was ready for everyone to get to their next class, Dick had thought of fun conversations starters to use to try and get to know you

His plan didn't work as you both got guided in different directions in the sea of students moving to their next class

All throughout the day, he tried finding you again with no luck to his multiple attempts

After the school day finally ended, the kids were all walking back home and discussing things that happened during the day

It was all going well until a bit of playful rough housing between Jason and Duke caused both boys to lose balance

Jason was able to steady Duke before he went down, but stepped too far over the curb and lost his own balance

Everyone watched Jason face plant into the concrete, each of them laughing for a short time as he pushed himself back up

The laughter stopped when they saw a small bit of blood trickling down the side of their brothers' face

Dick began fussing as he kneeled down to assess how bad the injury was that he would have to explain to Bruce

Before he could begin to overreact, you suddenly came rushing over from down the street and asking if everything was alright

Dick quickly explained the situation while placing his hand over the wound on Jason's head

You nod along as you stopped Dick's hand to assess the damage for yourself, before mentioning that you could help them at the temple

He began thanking you while organizing everyone else together as you helped Jason stand up

No one argued as they got rushed towards the temple and told the rules for their short visit

Once arriving, you gestured towards a sitting room that they could use while you took Jason and Dick to a different room further in the temple

You showed them a small room and told them to wait while going through a different door

Dick gave Alfred a quick call to inform him that they would be late getting home before shifting his focus entirely on Jason

You came back into the room a few minutes later in a traditional outfit that the inhabitants of the temple wore. "Sorry for making you wait. The temple rules require me to change as soon as I return from school."

"No, it's completely fine," Dick assured as he continued worrying over Jason. "I should have stopped the two of them the moment it started. Now I have to explain to Bruce how Jason came home with scar on his head after the first day back at school."

You gave a small chuckle as you kneeled beside Jason, gently placing a hand over the busted skin. "Not a thing to worry about. The worst that will happen to him is a bad headache."

Jason looked confused as he glanced between you and Dick. "How's that possible? I hit my head pretty- OH THAT TINGLES!"

You gave a small hum while gently rubbing Jason's temple. Smiling as you reach over to grab a few wet wipes. "There we go. You should be all better now after a little clean up."

They both looked bewildered as you carefully wiped the blood that was drying onto his skin. Dick staring blankly at the unblemished spot on his head.

"How did... what was... huh?"

You laughed at the confusion on both of their faces. Cleaning up the materials you used as you allowed Jason time to regain his bearings. "I was born with the ability to heal injuries from others. I was given up at a young age to be raised by residents of the temples. I came to reside in this one after the last one sadly had to shut down."

Jason gave a nod as he felt around at the spot that your hand had previously touched. "Well that was amazing! Thank you so much. Bruce would have a worried episode if any of us got a blemish of any kind."

After helping both of them off the ground, you begin leading them down the hallway. Helping gather the others and beginning to lead them out.

Before they left, Dick turned to you with a kind smile. "Thank you again. You should come over for dinner sometime so we can properly thank you."

The look on your face became solemn as you shook your head. "I have to decline on the offer. The temple doesn't allow me to be away for too long unless it involves school or the archery club."

He gave a low hum as his disappointment settled in. Soon turning to leave with the rest of the family. Though they all stopped when Stephanie and Cass went up to you.

"Cass and I wanted to say that you look very pretty in your outfit," Stephanie declared with Cass standing behind her with a small nod of her head.

The smile returned as you glanced at the two younger girls. "Thank you. You both are very beautiful yourselves. Now hurry home with your brothers."

They rushed to Wayne Manir soon after that in order to beat Bruce there

That were able to with 20 minutes to spare, leaving Dick enough time to make sure they all promised not to tell that Jason had previously been injured

When Alfred had inquired about what had caused the delay, Dick said that they ran into a classmate and walked them home

When Bruce got home, he made each of the children give a small run down of how their first day was

It was all going well until Duke and Stephanie began asking if they could join the archery club when sign ups began

Bruce said it was okay, but asked why they suddenly had an interest in joining

They gave a quick explanation that they had run into you on the way home and heard you say you were in it and thought it would be interesting to try it out themselves

Dick made eye contact with Bruce before explaining that he didn't think it was right to have you walk alone in Gotham

To his relief, Bruce gave a approved nod and moved on to the next topic without any more questions

The next couple of weeks were a blur as each of the kids began to sign up for the activities they would do for the year

Dick even began to speak to you more often by using Duke and Steph wanting to know what equipment that they would need for archery

You made a small list for basic things and brands to look at if they wanted to have decent equipment

The moment that sign-ups were open, Duke and Stephanie got the forms and made Bruce sign them that night

The first practice, Jason hung out on the sidelines as he watched his younger siblings excitedly go through the safety basics that all members needed to know

When it came time to learn how to handle the bow, they got paired with you and patiently followed your instructions on where to place their hands

Jason grinned to himself as he watched the happy smiles from a distance

Dick and Tim came in to wait after their own activities concluded before they would get picked up by Bruce

Just as practice was wrapping up, Duke pinched the skin of his hand on accident as he was putting the bow up

You went over to his side and began to inspect the small blister that was beginning to form

Bringing him and Stephanie over to the other boys before taking his injured hand and gave a firm hum

Duke jumped a little before you let go of his hand to reveal no blister anywhere to the bewilderment of the younger three

You made a motion for them to not react and alert the other students in the area to your abilities

Everyone waited outside for Bruce to get there after getting Cass from ballet and Damian from fencing

You waited outside with them until Bruce finally came pulling up and all the kids climbed in

Bruce offered to give you a ride, but you declined after saying the temple had a rule that you couldn't accept any rides unless it was for a school trip

They all watched you walk away with concern of you walking alone in Gotham so close to nightfall

The drive back was mostly quiet until the kids started asking why the people in charge were negligent of your safety

Bruce said that there wasn't anything they could do as long as your guardians thought you would be safe

A couple months later that whole thought process changed one day at school

It was the day after the weekly archer practice as Dick watched you walk into the class with a busted lip and a swollen eye

Dick went over and began asking what had happened as you explained that someone tried mugging you on the way back to the temple, but a cop was nearby to stop it

That night, Dick immediately went to Bruce and explained what had happened and that the temple wasn't taking your safety seriously

The other kids began to join in the ruckus as they asked what was going to be done to make sure you would be safe from a repeat of this incident

Bruce told them that he would think of something to try and change a few of the rules the temple so you could at least get rides from them

When he went to talk to them the next day, he got shut down by saying that the ways they followed wouldn't be changed for 'one simple child'

Bruce decided then that they wouldn't be looking after you if they didn't care for your safety

He explained the situation to the kids and that they would have to be quiet about it to everyone else or they could get in trouble

They waited until the night of one of the archery tournaments that would cause the club to return back late at night

You waited for each of the kids parents to pick up their children with the teacher before walking towards the temple

You were focused on getting there quickly, so you didn't notice a car following a couple blocks behind you

After 15 minutes of walking, you went past an alley and two masked men grabbed you and put a bag over your head

The car speed up and the trunk opened before you got thrown in and hands cuffed behind your back

They quickly drove through the city before driving into the garage of Wayne Manor

Bruce and Alfred waited in there for them as they opened the trunk again to pull you out and drag you through the house

Alfred walked in front of them before opening a door for them to let you go in

Bruce gave them a roll of cash and sent them away as he walked in with the key to your cuffs

"Hey, calm yourself. We aren't going to hurt you, only help you," Bruce whispered as he gently unlocked the cuffs. Stepping back as you pulled off the hood and looked around. "You're safe here with all of us."

"Safe? You kidnapped me!" You shout at him while looking for a way out.

Bruce held up his hands as he let you have the space you needed. "That for your safety. That place didn't care that you got hurt. They weren't going to change so it didn't happen again."

"What's all the noise about?" Stephanie stood in the doorway with Tim and Damian standing behind her.

Bruce looked at the kids before clearing his throat. "We are just having a small conversation. Go back to bed kids. It's really late."

"No, we're just talking," you mutter while looking at the floor. "Just go to sleep like you were told. Okay?"

That seemed to put them at ease as they slowly went back to their own rooms. Bruce went to the door before looking back at you again. "Try and sleep a little. We will talk more in the morning."

The next day, the kids went to school acting as if nothing had happened the night before

The absence of your presence was felt throughout the school, but everyone who didn't know better thought you just got a bit sick and were getting rest

Bruce and Alfred attempted to talk to you, but got practically no response from you as they tried explaining why they did it

When the kids returned from school, they said nobody had been concerned about your disappearance because you hadn't been reported missing

You felt slightly distraught from the revelation, but claimed the temple would notice when you didn't return this evening after sundown

When a week passed and the temple still hadn't contacted the police to inform them of your disappearance

The school finally informed the police of your absence, causing them to begin looking into the leadership of the temple that made them wait so long to report it

The authorities shut down the temple after arresting the leaders for negligence and the others were sent to other cities

The family brought you down to watch the news report of the situation and the conference the police

Each of the kids were keeping an eye on you as the detectives in charge explained that they could find no trace of your location and no ransom had been made

Bruce watched your spirits get crushed when they said they assumed you to be dead and would still be looking, but not with as much man power

They all began to comfort you, all while saying that they only wanted you to be safe from the people of the world that didn't care

You gave a defeated sigh while nodding your head as you reached for the remote and turned the TV off

The children started to suggest things to do as a way to bond/take your mind off the news, eagerly dragging you along with smiles

Bruce stood off the side to make sure you weren't getting overwhelmed as the night continued

When he finally sent them all to bed, Bruce stopped at your room last as he gave you a warm hug while saying he was only looking out for you when others didn't

The moment you acknowledge that they were just looking out for you, even if they did go too far with their approach

When he closed the door, he looked down the hall to see all the kids looking out of their rooms expectedly

They all quietly celebrated when Bruce nodded his head, confirming that you accepted your place in their family

#batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #batman x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader

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jolenes-doppelganger · 8 months ago

Text

Desert Storm

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Fremen Reader

NSFW 18+- MINORS WHO INTERACT CAN AND WILL BE BLOCKED.

Request: “Soooo I got this idea stuck in my mind. RM Jessica falls for the woman that her son, Paul, is also in love with. Basically, reader is like Chani, but not really 😅 So, RM Jessica will do everything in her power to steal her away from her own son (successfully coz she got me on a chokehold fr wink*). Yandere vibes or something close to that. I'll let you decide if you'll add some spice and everything nice.” from @buttercandy16

Warnings: Ritualistic groping, sweat and tear ingestion, erotic lactation and breastfeeding, Jessica and Alia telepathically beefing, Jessica is her own warning

A/N: Don't look me in the eyes, believe me, I know how the warnings sound. May my Catholic mother's prayers cleanse these sinful hands that hath created this abomination. (Sexy abomination, *wink wink*).

Word Count: 4.4k of filth

The water of life had opened her mind in unimaginable ways. What once had been a struggle to do, power that had been a struggle to wield, became light. Jessica could see things and feel things that felt almost wrong to be able to digest. Waking up in the midst of the Fremen Sayyadina as they were panting and sighing in ecstasy felt strange. They’d drank of the sweat on her forehead, and the potent spice had acted as a powerful stimulant, and in some cases an aphrodisiac. Jessica watched as a pair of the Sayyadina grasped another, the two of them passionately kissing one another. It was odd to see such open intimacy between two people, between two women.

“Reverend Mother, they wish to make (Reader) a Sayyadina with you.” a Fremen priestess murmured, drinking from her skin as a trickle of sweat came down her forehead.

“Bring… Her in.” Jessica whispered.

The dead Reverend Mother was bound, carried away as the remaining lucid Sayyadina did their part to prepare her. The soon to be Sayyadina, (Reader), was brought forward. Jessica stared up at her with newly blue-stained eyes.

“You must drink of the sweat on her face.” the sayyadina instructed the girl.

Jessica watched as you kneeled in front of her, gently searching for a bit of sweat to ingest. Most of it had been taken already, only a patch on her upper lip remained accessible. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to the flesh just below her lip, gently licking away the sweat there. Jessica reached forward, hands grasping desperately at you.

“I see.” Jessica whispered, grabbing your face. “Oh, I see what he sees.”

Jessica promptly closed her eyes, dropping into a sleep of pure exhaustion. As she slept, as she dreamed, she dreamed of you. With one little touch, she’d been granted powerful insight into your being, your composition and your bearing. You were Fremen, desert strong. Capable of withstanding more than some of the most acclimated soldiers. And Jessica liked that.

“Stay with her. We will tell the man child.”

You were left to watch over the new Reverend Mother, the slow potency of the spice saturated sweat causing a slow smoldering heat in you. Several Sayyadina around you were in the middle of hunting down their husbands and partners, overcome by the effect of it all. You sat still, observing the slow breaths of the new religious leader in your group.

“Mother, she’s Paul’s!” Alia spoke to Jessica.

It had been several weeks since Jessica had taken the water of life, several weeks since Alia had gained consciousness and begun speaking to her in utero. What had first been a new blessing had become another aggravation. Alia was sweet. Dedicated, loving and loyal to a fault. Every bit her father’s child. But Jessica shared a connection with her that allowed the child access to her foremost thoughts, desires and ideas.

“If you don’t hush.” Jessica whispered back.

“What did you say?” you asked, frowning.

“My child speaks.” Jessica replied, then adding, “Of nonsense.”

“Mom!!!” Alia cried.

You saw Jessica’s face contort into a steely expression as she appeared to silently reprimand the conscious fetus inside of her. It was strange, watching her interact with her daughter. Moreso, it was strange watching the other Sayyadina react to it all. You were with Paul mostly, attacking Harkonnen spice mining crews and machines, but recently Jessica had been requesting your presence on a frequent basis, requiring you more and more often.

“She is… Fully conscious?” you asked, eyeing the soft bump warily.

“Mmm. Yes.” Jessica replied, eyeing you with indiscernible interest. “She speaks like an adult, I believe she has the intellect of an adult as well. However, she is inexperienced in the ways of the world and knows it only through ancestral memory. She must learn to listen to her mother.” Jessica finished, a deadly warning in her expression meant for an individual without eyes to see it with.

Jessica extended her hand.

“Feel.”

You walked forward, a bit nervous. She was only ten weeks or so along, there was hardly a bump there. You placed your hand in hers, and she smiled, bringing it to rest quite low.*

“The baby will sit just above my pubic bone, you won’t feel movement, but you can feel the soft bump.” Jessica whispered, eyeing you in that strange way she was quite fond of.

“Oh. Thank you, Reverend Mother.”

Jessica smiled again, gently toying with your blue headband.

“You’ve begun to wear this quite often. What does it mean?”

The question caused you to blush. The piece of fabric was quite irrelevant, but the color was significant for many things.

“Oh… Well. We Fremen wear blue when we’re in love.”

Jessica’s eyes grew sharp and her hand stilled.

“With who?”

“Well, your son.” you admitted.

Jessica was quite silent for a period that was out of character for her. By the way she stared straight ahead, it was clear that she wasn’t talking to Alia. Her lips would often quirk when conversing with the child, and her eyes would dart around in thought. But she was deadly silent at this moment. No quiver of her lips, no movement of her eyes, not even the slightest twitch.

“I see.” Jessica finally said. “You make a mistake, assuming he can love you.” she whispered, leaning in predatorily. “My daughter Alia reminds him often that he must reserve his hand for the most diplomatically beneficial match.”

You clenched your teeth, drawing away from her.

“Paul can make his own choices without you two involving yourselves.” you replied, venom boiling through your words.

Your feet moved of their own accord, drawing towards the exit and out of Jessica’s room, forgetting the code of conduct. You were to formally greet and bid goodbye to the Reverend Mother at all times, to provide respect.

“Stop.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat at the barked order. She’d never used the Voice on you before, and you’d never seen it used.

“You will respect your Reverend Mothers.” Jessica spoke, in a two-toned voice. “All of us.”

Chills ran up and down your spine as you turned, viewing Jessica in fear.

“Come here.”

You were forced to walk back towards her. She grabbed your face with both hands, eyes wild as she observed you.

“I will be leaving to spread the news of Paul in the south. You will come with me.”

You shook your head. You were Feydakin, and a fighter. Your primary role to the tribe was not being a priestess, but being a fighter. To leave Paul to fight without you would leave him vulnerable, without relief from his dreams. Sure, he had Silgar, but the man was a fool and only fueled the Bene Gesserit delusions. Who would be the voice of reason amidst all of this?

“I am Feydakin.”

“No, you are Sayyadina. You go where I tell you to go, when I tell you to go. And as your Reverend Mother, I have the say over the matter. I want a fighter by my side, can’t you see?” Jessica whispered, eyes clouding over in soft anxiety.

Even though Jessica was Bene Gesserit, you’d always had a six sense for when someone was playing you. This was Jessica playing.

“You defeated Stilgar.” you retorted. “You are fighter enough.

“But I am pregnant.” Jessica replied. “And that was weeks ago. I will only continue to get bigger, to become more immobile. I will need a trusted protector.”

You eyed her with extreme skepticism, taking a moment to let her words hang. Most liars filled silence by instinct, word vomit flying out of their mouths under pressure. But Jessica knew that trick. And although her real reasons for having you close to her weren’t reasons previously given, her being pregnant was a viable excuse she could use if needed.

“It’s because you don’t want me to date Paul, isn’t it? My common Fremen blood isn’t good enough for him?”

Jessica laughed. It sounded unkind.

“No. Paul would be lucky to have someone as headstrong and wise as you for a partner, especially someone who is both those things and young, fertile. But his future lies elsewhere. And I do care for you. I would hate to see you hurt.”

She stepped forward, placing both her hands on your shoulders. She was back on her game. You had a sense that she was telling the truth, but only partly.

“Paul will join us in the south when he is ready. Distance will fizzle out the bond or… Make it stronger.” her face twitched. “But I believe it will be solidly the former.”

It was a struggle to stay in that room. You wanted to run out of her room to find the nearest corner to lie in. Not cry. You were Fremen. You didn’t cry over broken hearts and star-crossed love affairs. Not even the dead.

“I wish to be dismissed.” you managed, voice hoarse.

“No. You will stay with me, in my sight until we leave. It is better this way. Separate yourself where you can.”

“Reverend Mother, I wish to leave.” you repeated.

You needed a quiet corner, a place to breathe out and vent your pain without crying. This was humiliation, this was hurtful, this was heartbreak. And you needed to deliver the burden outward. Not in front of this woman with words shaped more like daggers, chipping away at year’s worth of armor to prevent you from crying.

“No.”

“You don’t understand, I need-”

“I am well aware of what you think you need.” Jessica interrupted, “And I assure you that it would be better to stay with me. I am what you need.”

It was a battle. Both internal and external. But you weren’t the only one boiling with voices too loud.

“Mother let her go, mother let her go!” Alia repeated over and over. “She will crack, she will waste water, you cannot let her waste water.”

“Silence!” Jessica spat, clutching at her womb. “You, sit.” she pointed.

Her usage of the voice was becoming more and more frequent, and it was directly tied to how in control she felt. It wasn’t something she used lightly, but as tensions and excitement rose, her composure would wear slightly, and she’d use it less sparingly.

“I do not care for your insolence, Alia.” Jessica began to berate her daughter aloud. “It is both rude and unwelcome. These are adult matters. I.. Hold your tongue. Stop interrupting me.. No, I don’t care if you have an adult mind, it is quite literally irrelevant to your circle of control.”

The argument once again turned internal, with Jessica’s lips twitching wordlessly. The debate was intense, and evidently not meant for your ears.

“There.” Jessica sighed, massaging her temples. “Forgive the interruption, she is just so opinionated.”

Her eyes flashed with her last statement, a hidden anger rooted there. Then she moved, sitting beside you with a sigh. You were still fighting tears. She reached a hand out, moving to fold a bit of your hair back into the bonnet.

“Don’t touch me.” you snapped.

Jessica snorted, continuing to fuss over your hair.

“Your hair is covered in sand.”

“We’re on a desert planet.” you retorted.

Jessica didn’t respond. Instead, she got up and grabbed a comb, undoing your day’s old braid and gently combing out the dust and sand. She braided it in a style that was a bit foreign, beginning the braid from the crown of your head instead of the root. Once complete, she tied a scarf over your hairline. A soft beige. Decidedly neutral. The blue bonnet was confiscated.

“So you’re deciding what I can and can’t feel now?” you said.

Your words sounded more wounded than you intended them to.

“No. I’m simply tying a fresh scarf over you. This one needs to dry.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You can’t clean things in the desert.”

“Air does wonderful things. So does the sun.”

The urge to backtalk her more was deafening. The words posed on the tip of your tongue, like a serpent waiting to strike.

“Come. It is time to rest.”

“It is midday, Reverend Mother.”

“And I am tired, and I will not allow you to escape from my watch. You will join me.”

Her words were not laced with a command of the Voice, but she probably could add it if you didn’t comply. Her hands pulled your outer robes off. She kept herself in a thin, sleeveless dress, pulling you into her. Why Jessica needed you this close was up for debate. You assumed it was because she desired control. She assumed that too, but a third voice quietly thought otherwise.

“You smell like the sun.” Jessica murmured, pressing her nose into your hair.

“And you smell like sweat.”

Neither scent was necessarily bad in the Fremen culture. No one would tell Jessica that her sweat was bad, a body was just a body, and it smelled as such. And the slightly burned scent of hair was just that. The sun roasted strange scents and colors into a person after a while. You would smell as such.

“Are your periods still regular?” she asked, the question phrased not unkindly.

“Yes.” you murmured.

“Good, that’s good.”

It was odd that she’d fret over your fertility while simultaneously resenting your relationship with Paul. But she was an odd character. It would be natural for her to have odd questions.

“Closer, lie closer to me.” Jessica whispered.

This rest, you would not.

<->

“Closer, I need you closer.” you whispered, pressing your face into Jessica’s neck.

She hummed, sleepily pulling you in, adjusting the pillow around her swollen belly to accommodate your increased closeness.

“You’re needy this morning.” Jessica sighed.

“Hmm?” you frowned.

“Not you, Alia.” Jessica sighed. “You’re always welcome for a cuddle.”

She let out a contented hum, pulling you as close as she could with her belly protruding. Her nose rested against your forehead, you could feel the moisture of her breath. The cuddle lasted a few more moments before a Sayyadina entered, informing Jessica from behind the fabric curtain of her yali that breakfast would be served in a quarter of an hour.

“Help me up.” Jessica murmured, rubbing her eyes.

You gently helped her to sit, pulling back the thin sheet. Her feet were swollen.

“Oh.” you winced.

“The joys of pregnancy, I know.” Jessica sarcastically grimaced.

Her sighs of pain turned to those of relief as you slowly worked your hands over her feet, massaging the swollen calves and tendons. The Reverend Mother propped herself up with a pillow, drawing slow circles over her belly as you worked on her feet. Her lips were pursed, she was in deep conversation with Alia. Jessica laughed a little at whatever the child said, and then nodded. You watched in fascination as her belly began to tremble slightly.

“Morning exercise.” Jessica explained. “Feel.”

She held your hands over her large belly as Alia kicked inside. You could feel the consistent, violent movement inside.

“You let her do that?” you frowned.

“It’s good for her, she needs to move her limbs, she needs the stimulation. But she does ask before kicking, or does so when she requires touch.”

The explanation was sufficient, and fascinating.Hers and Alia’s relationship was complicated, but amusing from the eyes of an outsider. You grabbed her robes and yours, helping her dress. She preferred bare feet most days, but today you coerced her into wearing soft moccasins to support her tender feet. Her hands lingered over yours as you adjusted her outer robes.

“Thank you.” Jessica murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

Following breakfast, Jessica drew you towards the Fremen temple where the masses were meditating. Today was a more quiet moment. Jessica was requiring of a specific ritual of group contact today, a spring rite. She brought you forward, resting her legs around your hips, yours fitted loosely around her bottom. Another Sayyadina came behind her, resting her hands on Jessica’s abdomen and pressing her pelvis into Jessica’s bottom. Spice was passed around, and members slowly began to sway together in a throng. But something was different today. More Fremen holy men and women began to touch more freely with one another. The Sayyadina with her pelvis pressed against your back began to sway with you. Desire. Her breath was hot on your neck, and her hands fitted loosely on your stomach. Jessica leaned into the arms of the Fremen priestess behind her. The breath of the group began getting heavier, labored. You could feel the energy surrounding you, the heaviness in the air. Touching slowly became more sensual, caresses of the torso more common.

Jessica kept your hands in hers, swaying more frequently. The Sayyadina behind her began to draw her hands over her more sensually, as did the Sayyadina behind you. Fingers pulling at the fabric of your robes, hands drawing over your abdomen, over your thighs, and eventually slipping up your collarbone. The Sayyadina behind Jessica was more brave, fingers kneading the swollen curves of her breasts. It was a spring ritual, meant to further the fertility of the Fremen, meant to inspire the energy of life around them. It was what the people needed, it was what the people required. But your role in this was confusing. Why had Jessica placed you opposite her? Were you a symbol of the Fremen’s future? The Sayyadina behind you placed both her hands over your womb, and a distant chant for fertility began in the back of the room. It bloomed until everyone aside from Jessica and yourself were chanting. It was deafening and was confusing. The sight in front of you didn’t help. The Sayyadina behind Jessica had her hands pressed firmly against Jessica’s chest, groping and pulling at her swelling breasts. It should have disgusted you, this sight. But it didn’t. A distinctly different feeling came forth. It wasn’t until you were out of the ritual, back into Jessica’s chambers, that you pieced it together.

“You ran off fast.” Jessica rasped, soft footsteps filling the yali.

“I had a lot to think about.”

You noticed her bare feet. Feet that you distinctly remembered placing in moccasins earlier. Another stab of jealousy snuck up through your throat.

“Where are your moccasins, Reverend Mother?”

“Nabiya has them. I didn’t want them anymore.” Jessica sighed.

“Nabiya?”

“The Sayyadina behind me during the ritual.”

You clenched your jaw, looking away. They were confusing, these feelings you were having as of late. Jessica noted your closed off nature, laughing a little.

“Oh come on, now.” Jessica sighed, wrapping her arms around you, her belly pressing into your back. “It was a ritual, I am a pregnant, fertile woman, and a Reverend Mother. You are too. This will bring the Fremen much joy, to see their holy women fertile and strong.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Jessica rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue softly.

“That ritual isn’t done every year. I distinctly remember the last Reverend Mother doing it last year.”

“Yes, but I am a new Reverend Mother, and we are in a time of great anxiety and excitement. It is important to encourage the community to reproduce.” Jessica murmured. “It is important to remind you of the beauty of your youth…”

“Paul is my chosen-”

“Hush.” Jessica cut you off. “None of that.”

There was a burning in your eyes, and you looked up at the ceiling of the yali to avoid crying.

“Shh, shh.” Jessica murmured, stroking your head. “You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.”

“I’m useless here.” you protested. “I should be beside him, I should be fighting for my people instead of sitting in rooms while people touch me and praise my unproven fertility.”

Jessica hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Her hands hadn’t stilled their soothing caresses over your face and neck.

“Come, lie on the bed with me.”

You were weakened to her requests as it was a matter of compliance as well as comfort. Jessica’s arms encircled your body, and she hummed softly, drawing her fingers over your scalp.

“There will be another. One for you to love.”

“Reverend Mother, Paul said he loved me.”

Jessica smiled sadly, placing another kiss on your forehead. Her hands drew lower, resting on your neck.

“He has found another.”

All of the air escaped your lungs in a wheeze. Jessica’s forehead softened, and she brought you in for a deeper hug.

“Don’t cry, I know, I know it hurts.” she murmured.

You got the sense that she did care. The months spent at her side as Alia had grown resulted in softer, more empathetic moments from the usually hardened holy leader. And besides Paul and Alia, you were one of the few people she cared for, probably the only Fremen she viewed as anything except a pawn.

“Who?” you whimpered. “Who does he love?”

Jessica shook her head. She pressed kiss after kiss over your face, fingers drawing up and down your back.

“Another from the North. I do not think it wise to tell you who.”

A dry sob came from your throat. You weren’t crying tears, but you were still vocalizing, much like the women of the tribe would do for the dead.

“I know it hurts.” she repeated. “So give it to me.”

Her hands held your face, and as the first tear slipped down your cheeks, her lips were there to catch it, drinking in the moisture. You only shed a few tears, it was all you dared spare, but what you didn’t expect was for her to give it back. Her lips brushed against yours, delivering a soft bead of saliva onto your tongue. She did this so tenderly, fingers stroking over your cheeks softly.

“You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.” Jessica whispered, repeating her earlier words with a hint of sensuality, with a hint of more care.

She leaned in again, her nose brushing against yours. You looked into her spice stained eyes, tentatively drawing a thumb over the tattoos on her cheeks. She smiled softly, and leaned in all the way, lips slowly dancing over yours. It was the reprieve for the ache in your heart. You were heartbroken over Paul, but over the months spent with Jessica, you’d slowly come to care for her too, and the infant child inside of her. You noted the unusual stillness of Alia, the dormant nature of the child. A hand on Jessica’s abdomen confirmed her sleepy state. If the child had been awake, there would have been a soft pressure on the other side as she touched back. Jessica pulled away, stroking your cheek. Her eyes were clouded over in a glow of satisfaction, and the telltale signs of her scheming lay in the intensity of her gaze.

“Do me a favor.” Jessica murmured. “My milk is coming in… Only a little right now, but it is better that it be extracted and taken into a body immediately.”

“I’ll get the pump and the straw so you can drink what it collects.” you assumed.

Jessica laughed softly, pulling you back into her arms before you could leave.

“No, no dear. If I was going to pump it, I would’ve done so this morning. I wish to share it.”

You balked at this, and Jessica laughed even more, her hands encircling your hot cheeks.

“Sweetheart, please. It is a gift, and cannot be given to anyone else.”

Jessica gently parted her robes, exposing a swollen breast. Your first instinct was to turn away, but Jessica was quicker, firmly cupping your face, forcing you to meet her eyes.

“No, no. Do not pull away. Accept the gift.”

Jessica’s phrasing of the request was despicably deliberate. The gift of water was a holy, sacred act. A symbol of someone’s devotion to another. Usually it was done via spit, but if it came from the body, sharing it was a devotional act. To deny it was like denying the person, a sign of great disrespect. It was the tender touch of her thumbs over your cheeks that convinced you. A soft kiss was all the reassurance Jessica gave before she pushed you down.

“A soft latch. That’s all that’s required.” Jessica directed.

You nodded, leaning in and wrapping your lips around the stiff, brown nipple. It was warm, growing stiffer immediately between your lips. With a soft, experimental suck, a bead of milk landed on your tongue. Jessica let out a relieved moan, her hands tightening in your hair. Alia stirred slightly, but settled. She was unaware of this exchange.

“Again.” Jessica pleaded.

You’d never heard her use this tone of voice before. It was breathy, needy even. It inspired stirrings in you, made you more eager to please. You moved your lips slowly, imitating the suckling of babies you’d witnessed in the past. It required a bit of tongue and throat movement, but you managed to produce the correct combination, milk landing in steady streams on your tongue. Jessica let out pleasured hums of relief, her hands stroking over your head. It was a small amount of milk, and she went dry quickly.

“Other side now, beloved.” Jessica murmured. “And save a mouthful for me this time.”

The suggestion was odd, and a bit exciting. You were less unsure of yourself this time around, and you were careful to keep a decent amount of milk in your mouth at all times to fulfill her next request. It made the process a bit slower, which Jessica did appreciate. Her fingers could dance over your cheeks as they rhythmically hollowed. She could commit the sight of your lips on her breast to her private memory. You pulled away as she went dry, holding what milk remained in your mouth. A soft tap on your chin directed you upward, and Jessica opened her mouth, awaiting what you had collected. You released the liquid back to her in a steady stream, and she swallowed greedily, but she didn’t stop there. Her lips and tongue collected what was left, her tongue searching every crevice of your mouth for the sweet milk that remained. Her breasts dried in the humid air, and she leisurely swirled her tongue over yours, enjoying the remaining traces of her milk on your tongue.

“Lovely.” Jessica murmured. “Now I’m nice and empty, and you’re full of my nutrients.”

There was a mildly deranged look in her eyes, and you wondered just how much her ego had swelled now that you’d nursed from her, now that you’d shared her own kiss. Her hands drew you back in, pressing your face to her neck, fingers tracing delicately through your scalp. The smell of her breast milk lingered, a sweetness that complimented her natural odor.

“Oh… The things we will be…”

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