#your power was not what granted your people water in the desert

[r0-boat]

That time of the month guys, You know what I must do...

Whb Kings on your Period

All Kings x AFAB! reader NSFW No sex just extremely suggestive... Blame three individuals

....Wait a minute... If Lilith makes the kids does that mean demon women don't have periods? Probably looking too much into it...

Edit: This is supposed to be a fun post, But at the end of this, I went down several rabbit holes... Please don't be like me don't think 😭

Cw: mentions of pussy eating (You probably know who it is already lol), no . Suggestive,(alluding to sex on. But never happens because demons are fucking weird)

Satan

You're different somehow every month, and he can't put his finger on it. But your short-tempered rage makes him giggle like a teenager and kick his feet. You have such a low tolerance, super BS, and he loves that. And he wants to know why he never smelled this off Solomon before, so it must be you that's different. When Satan asks you, you sigh and put your hands to your mouth before giving him a 20-minute explanation.

...Holy shit? You're what now??? He thought humans creating little people it was crazy now what you're telling him is that humans have the power to shed their skin from the inside and shit it out??? Can he see it?!

... The mental image, He had and the real thing was not what he expected are you okay Oh my God there's so much again. He never wants to see that much blood come out of you ever again. The way you made this man fear more than any angel by that explanation alone. The way you have this man scampering to a human store to get whatever you ask to help ease the pain even if it's just for a little.

When he tells you that demon women don't have periods He swore your rage was emanating off you and Leviathan could probably feel you're jealousy from all the way in Hades.

Hi I think Satan using a period cramp simulator would be very funny and very entertaining...

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Satan: Would have the worst periods known to woman. The streets of Gehanna are deserted because the moment something slightly inconveniences her a whole building is collapsing. I wouldn't blame her, her period cramps will hurt worse than Gabriel stabbing a sword through her uterus before punching her in the gut.

Mammon

He'll buy you literally everything. It doesn't matter if you use tampons pads or cups because he's already bought everything. He's either got it from Lucifer or you made an offhand comment about it and he did his own research. He's very proud that he's prepared for his master.

Like he'll already get you everything But when you're on your period you actually have a reason to accept all his things especially if it's junk food. This is awesome! You're letting him pamper you!!! He wishes you can have periods all the time!

(one explanation later) What the fuck? Never mind. Aren't you scared of running out of blood?

He wish he could grant you something that take the way the pain and discomfort easily but Tartaros never really had that problem so they don't really have any solutions. Instead he'll just stick to spoiling you with food.

Watching Mamon's eyes go wide when he sees how much a tampon soaks up water is pretty funny.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Mammon: She hates it. She hates it so much that she spends the money and resources to immediately either go to the human world or recreate a Depo shot or an implant to get rid of it. And she regularly changes it when she has to.

Leviathan

He smelled blood and he thought you were going to get killed. He was literally ready to die protecting you. He was so angry that he got worked up over nothing at first until he saw how much pain you were in.

Beelzebub

Why does your body insist on doing something that harms itself Is it stupid or is your body hating you. If you insist on being useless then you can just lay in bed!

After the initial Levi snark is gone he comes back to check on you. He actually looks really worried and thinks you might die. Freaking out frantic calls tulucifer after initial back and forth Lucifer insists that what they're feeling is normal.

All of the novels will be looking after you He doesn't want you leaving the bed just in case you might trip and die or accidentally get yourself hurt. He genuinely thinks you might die.

He will silently open your door stare at you and see if you're doing all right and then close the door, Rinse and repeat until you either yell at him ask him what he's doing. He will either respond with arguing back.

Bonus non-canon:

Fem!Leviathan: when she's on her period you literally will never see her. She's so glad She connected her bathroom too her bedroom. It's because she sheds her scales she's not joking. She actually does shed her scales on her period Will she show you fuck no. The moment she starts bleeding you're never seeing her again until she stops.

Honestly he was zoning out through half of your explanation until you mention the actual 'bleeding' process. Then you just see him lean inward putting his chin on his hands. So you're telling him... There is a way to consume you without hurting you?

This fucker has to stay away from you 10 ft away. He is SOOOO on board with eating you out. Keep Guy 10 ft away from you He would be absolutely no help except for maybe eating junk food and bringing you snacks.

He will laugh at your horrid, disgusted face because he just loves your cute little reactions. He raises his hand during the lecture on human anatomy to the Kings, and you told him to put his hand back down because you're not answering any of his batshit questions because you know it's going to be the second worst thing you've ever heard.

Bonus non-cannon:

It's okay though he'll never remember you period though he will always know because he could smell it (insert that one meme) he'll deadass forget that humans can bleed like that and occasionally get scared to smell blood on you before remembering.

He's still this day wonders about us question "if He sucks it all out Would the period be over?"

Fem! Beel: she's lost so much of her cute underwear from being forgetful. I could definitely see her getting an implant or Depo so she doesn't have to remember, but she kind of already forgets her appointments, too.

Lucifer

Human menstrual cycle...He's not stupid He was part of the creation when God made humans to breed with one another. He not only sees it as a normal thing but something special that human women have that sets them apart from demons and angels.

He doesn't understand your disgust and hatred by something explicitly given to you and all human women by God.

He offers to change your mind as he gets on his knees and you start adamantly declining and screaming. Now he really is confused....

About half of the other devils are defending your case when Lucifer brings it up at the next meeting. Though it's so split down the middle they end up discussing that topic another time.

As an 'apology' he gives you a basket with a bouquet of white lilies, painkillers and some cut fruits with card telling you to not eat unhealthy foods since it tends to make the cramps worse. And he hopes you get better.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Lucifer: human female menstrual cycle yeah don't they also molt their feathers? No that's just an angel thing?? So demons also don't molt their feathers molting feathers is just an angel thing??? Other she would be super chill on her cramps, she doesn't even care.

Belphegor

The most normal, You want somewhere to rest? Lucky for you his bed is the softest in all of hell he'll make sure to take good care of you and by taking care of you he means sleeping and cuddling with you while his subordinates do all the work.

Periods actually sound like a pain in the ass He hopes he never has one You're absolutely welcome too crash at his place He understands completely about how things might be more irritating when you're constantly in pain.

Belphegor Actually really likes You're listlessness as much as he likes hard work He doesn't mind when you succumb to his sin a little bit. Especially when you're looking so cute laying on top of him. His phone screen is a picture of you smooshed against his chest with a hand on your head.

Another excuse to binge anime that he doesn't want to watch alone is a win in his book. He'll let you watch some of your favorites as well. He's not picky.

Beleth is in heaven taking care of and pampering you and his majesty. He just wish he could have you to himself for 'private' time.... menstruation? Lol a little blood isn't going to scare him.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Belphegor: Nope... The last time they had their first period was when they first woke up, never again... A thousand years of menstrual pain almost put her back to sleep. Ever since she'd been dying trying to get rid of this thing causing her pain as soon as she heard Lucifer can do implants and depots She was the first one who got it. If she ever gets off at again she'll experience the same exact piercing pain she felt.... but That sounds like a problem for her future self.

Asmodeus

He completely compliance but doesn't really understand He still doesn't. After having a wife who had to deal with periods. It's a complete natural thing for the human reproductive system. And oh boy you bet he knows all about that

"You know if you really don't like it I used to have a cure that can take it away for 9 months, Would you like one? Hahah just kidding dear!"

Asmodeus 🤝Lucifer🤝Beelzebub(I think you can fill in the blank)

In all seriousness he really doesn't understand why humans don't like something that's completely natural He understands devils because devils are just naive beings in general and only certain high level angels Who worked with God don't care...

Another Tally on the board that what Asmodeus has that human men lack. Apparently basic women anatomy knowledge.

As much as he would love to take care of you again since he hasn't done that since his last wife. He doesn't think the Kings fully trust him yet so presents it is. He can tell what phase in your cycle by just scent alone, and that's scary.

Bonus non-canon:

Fem!Asmodeus: She doesn't give a fuck You better be on top of her or else she's going to have a problem. She always feels so horny her period.She's horny all the time

"It's going to be a bloodbath >:)!"

"please stop saying that..."-MC

[jolenes-doppelganger]

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…”

[himasgod]

Neuvillette x Reader enemies to lovers III

Where you keep pressuring him to admit his impartiality to you

You've always worked alone, for years, with the sole objective of uncovering the whole truth about Fontaine. All the corruption that runs through the veins of the Court and the Tribunal. So, you have Neuvillette in the crosshairs of your shotgun, able to destroy his life and dethrone him in an instant. But he could also ruin yours. So, you decide to play with fire against each other, to see who crumbles first.

Neuvillette x Reader enemies to lovers! PART I

Neuvillette x Reader enemies to lovers! PART II

(I'm taking advantage of his birthday to make another part of the fanfic, happy bday to Neuvi and enjoy <3)

The rain had not stopped since that night. Fontaine seemed caught in a perpetual storm, as if the sky itself refused to grant respite. It was not difficult to suspect the cause; the rumors in the city were as persistent as the water that slid down the cobblestone streets: the Iudex was restless. But no one dared to say it out loud.

You couldn't stop thinking about it either.

Since that last confrontation in the tavern, the days had become tense. Neuvillette had not crossed your path, but his presence was almost ghostly, stalking you in every corner of Fontaine. The stares of the Court guards, the constant feeling that someone was watching you, and the echoes of your own words that night… everything had become a reminder that you were playing with fire.

"You're obsessing," your reflection whispered to you as you looked at yourself in a fogged-up window. "You shouldn't think about him."

Pero pensar en él era inevitable. Había algo en la manera en que Neuvillette se comportaba contigo, algo que desafiaba su imagen de imparcialidad y serenidad.

A crack in its facade.

And a dangerous part of you wanted to see how far that crack went.

The opportunity came sooner than expected.

That night, as the storm raged with renewed fury, the echo of a secret meeting crept into your ears. You were no stranger to Fontaine’s intrigues: corrupt politicians, merchants peddling information, and you… you hovered on the edge, where Neuvillette’s laws couldn’t quite reach you.

Or so you thought.

You had very powerful contacts within Fontaine's dangerous lower class.

You had access to the most fragile information that could crumble Fontaine society in an instant.

You didn't work with other people, you didn't belong to criminal organizations or gangs. You worked on your own, you just needed to know the truth, you didn't need to prove it to anyone else.

But you wanted to know the truth about Fontaine, and you had been trying for years, years of having Neuvillette in the crosshairs of a shotgun of information that could ruin his life in an instant.

And you in his.

“If you go there, you won’t come out unscathed,” an old acquaintance warned you as he handed you the meeting location on a crumpled piece of paper. “The eyes of the Tribunal are everywhere.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied, stuffing the paper into your coat before disappearing into the night.

The location was an old mansion on the edge of Fontaine with the Sumeru desert, abandoned for years. The windows were broken, the walls covered in mold, and the sound of rain seeping through the broken roof created a mournful melody. But inside, in the main room, a group of figures gathered around a table. Their voices mingled with the thunder, barely audible.

You hid behind a broken column, listening just enough to know that the meeting was not what you expected. They were traitors, conspirators, men and women seeking to challenge Fontaine’s equilibrium. And, unwittingly, you had become too involved in their game.

“What if someone discovers us?” one of them asked nervously.

“No one will. The Tribunal is blind under this storm.”

A laugh ran through the room, but you did not share its assurance. Because then you felt it. A presence, powerful and suffocating, like the weight of the ocean itself bearing down on you. You turned instinctively, your pulse racing.

And there he was.

Neuvillette stood in the doorway of the main door, his figure framed by the lightning that lit up the sky. His cloak swayed in the wind, soaked through, and his eyes—those eyes as clear as water—remained on you. The murmur of the conspirators faded immediately, replaced by an oppressive silence.

“How disappointing.” His voice rumbled through the room like distant thunder. The people in the room stepped back, and for a moment, it seemed to you that the very air had grown thicker. “I thought Fontaine was capable of more.”

“It’s him!” one of the conspirators shouted, unsheathing a weapon. “Finish him!”

It all happened in an instant. The room erupted into chaos, men drew weapons, and you, in the midst of it all, tried to get away from the center of the battle. But you couldn’t take your eyes off Neuvillette. He didn’t move at first, not even when the blades flashed in his direction. Only when the first attacker was close enough did he raise a hand, and with a subtle gesture, a column of water erupted from the ground, enveloping the man and throwing him against a wall.

There was no mercy in his gaze. There was no anger, not even fury… only something infinitely more dangerous: absolute judgment.

—¡Correremos la misma suerte si no corremos! —gritó otro, y uno a uno comenzaron a huir, sus pasos resonando en el eco vacío de la mansión.

Neuvillette no los persiguió. Se quedó allí, observándolos.

“Why am I not surprised?” you muttered, trying to catch your breath. Rain had begun to seep through the roof, and water formed puddles at your feet. “The great Supreme Judge, once again, right where you least expected him.”

He advanced towards you slowly, his expression unfazed. But there was something in his gaze that made you back away, until your back hit a column.

“What did you expect to find here?” he asked in a calm voice, although his tone seemed to cut through the air. “One more game? Or do you no longer care which side you're on?”

“I'm not on anyone's side,” you snapped, trying to maintain your composure. “Don't confuse me with them."

“And what is the difference between you and them?” he replied, coming close enough for the sound of his voice to seep under your skin. “You defy the law, justice, and yet you expect me to treat you with leniency.”

“And what do you expect from me?” you blurted out, unable to contain yourself. “I know the truth of Fontaine, the one you want to keep under water. I am not someone who bows to your ‘justice.’”

A flash of lightning illuminated his face at that instant, and for a moment you saw something different in him: a shadow of doubt, or perhaps… frustration. His hand rose, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you. But he didn’t. He stopped just inches from your face, water slipping through his fingers.

“You are a problem,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the storm. “But one I cannot ignore.”

“Then don’t,” you challenged, your breathing ragged. “Judge me as you judge others. But you know as well as I do that you are not impartial. Not with me."

Neuvillette didn’t answer. His hand trembled slightly, and then, as if something broke him from within, he jerked away.

“Get out of here,” he ordered, his voice now harsher, colder. “Before I myself decide to end this.”

“Why don’t you?” you challenged, taking a step toward him. “Why do you keep…?”

“Get out!” His voice boomed like thunder, and a gust of water exploded between you, forcing you to cover your face.

When you looked up, Neuvillette had already turned around, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the mansion. The storm raged around him, but he seemed to be part of it, a judge as implacable as the sea itself.

And you, for the first time, began to understand that the crack in his facade was not something you should keep pushing. But it was too late.

The storm wasn't over. And neither was what was between you.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[n-s4kayaky]

𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 (𝙳𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚢! 𝚂𝚒𝚛 𝙲𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, power dynamics, religious themes, praise, creampie, canon typical violence, possessive Crocodile, belly bulge

Notes: Soooo, yeah, it has come to my mind and how I don't have to write something perverted and horny. So enjoy ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

Water, the beautiful and elusive water which always flows at will, every living being is aware that water in an ecosystem is vital, it gives life to vegetation, which in turn gives fruit and to living beings, specifically humans. Without the precious water you would be nothing, that is why your city is nothing compared to those around you. You lived in a small town, in the middle of an arid and hot desert which dried your mouth and made your eyes hurt, the climate was deathly hot by day and extremely cold by night; But you had already become accustomed to such temperatures, what you were not used to was the lack of water in your village. Although the other neighboring villages had small lagoons and wells, which provided them with rich water, you were the exception. No matter how hard you dug, the water never emerged from the ground, and even if you were in the middle of the desert it still rained from time to time, but not in you. It had been decades since your town had always been short of water, and everything had a crazy explanation for your liking, the culprit of not emerging water was a deity

The story is immersed in years ago, where your people were nothing more than a tribe, they prayed to various deities giving everyone equal treatment, offering them and building temples and statues in devotion to them, everything was perfect, until the image of a new deity appeared; the deity of the sand, the people gave all devotion and worship to this new deity; But from one day to the next it fell into a rage against the people, destroying the other monuments of the deities and carrying away every drop of water that was in your vicinity, leaving them with nothing. Due to the lack of water and the destruction of the monuments, the citizens became enraged, quickly going to complain to the deity what had created their anger towards them and what was the reason why he had frightened the other gods and carried away the water. Due to the response of the villagers, the anger of the deity increased and it is said that one day he returned the water to the village, flooding it and infesting the waters with large and monstrous crocodiles which ended many lives, and as soon as the water appeared it vanished. From that day on, the name of the sand deity was changed to "Crocodile". The people had no choice but to continue worshipping him for fear that he would wipe them all out, and so it continues to this day

From a very young age you had been told the story by father and mother, always asking and instilling in you the worship of the deity that they feared so much and you followed the beliefs; You didn't do it in worship of God and faith in Him, you did it to keep your people alive. As you grew up, a group of faithful believers armed themselves in your people, such that they fell into the extremism of faith before the wonderful god. They made unpleasant and selfish changes towards the people, always asking at the end of each month for half of the little profit you could afford as an offering to the blessed god, saying that he would be more benevolent towards the people. Their injunctions only made the people even weaker for lack of profit, and as if that were not enough for them they began to force them to give their jewels and gold to the deity, punishing those who could not. The town was indeed in a mess, the people were dying and could hardly contradict themselves to the believing extremists for fear that they or the deity himself would punish them and grant them death.

As was normal, many people fell ill due to the lack of food to be able to afford medicine, and unfortunately many of those sick people were your parents, at that time you were nothing more than a simple child, you left the little study that you had been allowed to start working in the fields with the desperation of being able to afford a simple medicine; But it was too late for your dear parents, and you fell on your deathbed, and left you alone in that dreadful town. During adolescence you barely managed, working for those a little richer in your village, making a living on them and directing your earnings to the extremes. Everything was going moderately well, until today

You were already coming of age and had survived thanks to one of the moderately wealthiest people in the village, working for him while the little income he gave you was destined for offerings. It was the day of the gathering of jewels and goods from the people for the deity, believers went from house to house knocking on doors and taking the jewels while punishing those who gave nothing. There was a knock on the door of your home and you opened it with the small bag of gold in hand, you observed the two men dressed in sand-colored robes waiting in front of your door and one of them stretched out his hand, you quickly handed over the small bag. You watched expectantly as the man opened the bag to see the inside of it, he raised his gaze to his companion and denied him making a shiver run through your body- "It's not enough"- said the second man dryly while looking at you seriously, causing panic to flood your body -"W-what?! That's impossible, it's the amount every month!" - You screamed in panic as you watched the hooded men- "The fee has gone up, we have seen it necessary that our god needs more to have his forgiveness"- Cold sweat ran down your temples as you looked at the two men in astonishment - "More?! Isn't all that we give him enough?" - "Are you questioning the orders and commands that our god gives us?!" - You quickly shook your head as you took a few faint steps backwards, bumping into the half-open door of your home as both men approached you - "No! It's not that, I'd never question it, it's just that it's the only thing I have." - You hurriedly said while you felt how your blood was rushing through your veins, the men looked at each other and then directed their gaze towards you - "Well, in such a case you are lucky that we are making a group of women as an offering to our dear god"- They spoke adoringly at their appointment while touching their cheeks and nose, again a shiver ran through your body, a group of women as an offering?! Before you could reply to ask for a second chance, one of the men grabbed you by the arms tightly, pulling them and pulling a linen rope from his tunic, entangling it around your limbs and pulling them hard, forcing you to walk as if you were a donkey

With an awkward step you followed the men in denial, watching them lead you to the building they had created as a place to pray to the deity. They opened the great gates and forced you in as they walked through the gloomy building, you watched in terror as the large number of men in robes knelt in long lines as they prayed to a statue of a bust with a face barely recognizable due to the damage to the stone. The two men who were carrying you led you to a room, in which there were five other women, untangled the ropes that were in your arms and threw you at the feet of the others, you let out a groan as you watched as they closed the doors. You rose from the ground as you watched the group of women, a few of them sobbing while others simply knelt and prayed. They kept you inside that room for what were hours until they opened the door. Out of it emerged a group of men in tunics, each wearing different things, and they addressed each one of you. They took your garments and snatched them from you, leaving you naked until they gave you a thin white robe, covering your body quickly. A man took care of one of you, dressing you, and then taking small and fine gold necklaces, putting these around your necks, accompanied by a small gold thread that was wrapped around your neck, a white silk veil was placed over your faces, covering half of them, leaving your lips and nose visible, Letting the rest of the material rest on your head, covering your eyes and so on, it covered your view but you could still see vaguely. Gold chains were meticulously placed on your head to hold the veil, and you stripped off your shoes. Once what seemed to be your body already prepared as an offering, a last man entered the room with a bowl full of sand between both hands while reciting a prayer, he approached each of you, taking some of the sand that was in the bowl and rubbing it in a horizontal line from one cheek. Going through the bridge of the nose to the next cheek

The men gathered around you, believing that you would gather among yourselves like a flock of sheep being gathered by the wolves, they began to walk outside the building, forcing them to follow. They walked up the slope which led to the great andesite temple at the top of the village. As you walked, the men prayed and prayed for the deity until they came to the entrance of the great temple. You stared at the dark entrance as you felt a chill run through your body from head to toe. One of the men stood in front of you as he knelt: "Dear sisters, today more than ever you must feel grateful to your worship for the great god of the sand, your body and soul will be more than a gift to our powerful deity, giving us as a reward his forgiveness and the precious water that he wisely snatched from us. Thank you sir, thank you for taking them and giving others a better future!" - The other men thanked as they quickly knelt to the ground, the man who had recited the discourse in front of you stepped aside as he left the entrance to the temple clear, one by one he entered the grand entrance, having no choice but to enter the temple. You walked down the long, cold corridor of the temple until you came to a large chamber. The large room was illuminated by large chandeliers made of gold, the walls were decorated with drawings of what appeared to be crocodiles and other symbols, the floor was littered with gold and precious jewels as well as baskets of different sizes full of fruits and food which were in a deplorable state. You watched the room in astonishment while the other women stood in a horizontal row around the jewels. You were standing and silence filled the place, frightened enough not to say a word. Minutes passed and everything remained the same, without a doubt all this was a waste of time for you, they would keep you locked up here for days thinking that the god you worshipped so much would forgive you and when they see that the water does not come back they will kill you, that is if malnutrition and dehydration have not done it before

You sighed tiredly and closed your eyes, feeling a strong gust of air flood the room, you opened your eyes surprised by the sudden breeze while you checked the other women, who like you seemed strange. A stronger gust of air accompanied by sand flooded the place, turning off the lights of the temple and leaving you in complete darkness, you gasped and looked at the others again with a bad feeling weighing on your lower back. The blast of sand quickly passed around you, engulfing one of the women. In the blink of an eye, that girl lay on the ground with dry skin and looking as if she were a dry corpse, the others began to scream and cry, going quickly to the exit to run in terror; But the blast was quicker, closing the great door as it began to surround each woman. You watched horrified and motionless in your place as women turned before your eyes into mummified and dried corpses, your breathing began to fail as you watched as that gust of sand approached you slowly, you wanted to react, you wanted to run away, scream, cry; But your body just didn't react, it just left your feet buried in the sand as you watched the pile of sand approach you. You closed your eyes, waiting simply for a painful death; But it never came, just a delicate touch on one of your cheeks. You opened your eyes little by little at such a sensation, seeing the pile of sand settle in front of you as it touched your cheek, you blinked incredulously as the sand rose until it touched the veil that covered your eyes and head, removing it little by little until it threw it to the ground and revealed your face. You blinked several times as the candlelight magically lit up again, letting the gold sparkle again and your vision clearer.

The sand that was on your head came down to your cheek again, you looked at the cluster and opened your eyes to see how it began to materialize in a large hand, its fingers were covered with large gold rings and covered with jewels. Then the hand followed an arm and then the great mass of sand that swirled in front of you became a large muscular and tall body dressed in a sand-colored robe embroidered with gold threads and full of small details in gold and jewels, you fixed your gaze on the free hand, Seeing the lack of this and replacing it was a large hook of pure gold. You had to lift your head to visualize the face of the great man lying in front of you. Beautiful eyes golden like precious metal were staring at your face, the slit-like pupils did not leave your skin, a scar decorated his bronzed face from cheek to cheek, proasting by her nose while a delicate veil of the same color as her robe and embroidered in gold covered her charcoal black hair -"It's you…"- A whisper emerged from her rich lips while her large hand full of rings caressed your cheek with a delicate and trembling touch -"After so long… You're back." - He said incredulously while out of nowhere he was kneeling in front of you, taking you in his strong arms and hugging you with nostalgic affection - "My dear desert flower, I miss you so much.." - You gasped as you stood motionless before his tight embrace, feeling his warm and large body envelop yours smaller - "S-sir… I… I think you're mistaking me for someone else." - You spoke in astonishment and trembling of being able to anger the man you could only recognize as the deity of the sand. His head moved away from the hollow of your neck, lifting his head and piercing those chilling slit-like pupils into your face, examining it for a few seconds, his large hand again moved closer to your face as he touched your skin delicately, being careful not to break your thin skin -"Am I confused? Don't talk nonsense at this point… It's been so long and you tell me such things?.." - He spoke in a thick, harsh tone of voice as he looked down at you from his imposing height - "No! Excuse me, it's just… I am simply an offering to you, I come in the apologetic name of my people so that you, please, give them back the water." - The big man's eyebrow arched as he took a few small steps away from you. His golden eyes swept over your body covered by the robe that had been given to you and shortly after settled on your face, looking at you with what seemed to be slight confusion, a small and serious laugh rumbled from his chest as he shook his head incredulously making it seem as if the ground was shaking - "My dear, you an offering? Don't talk so much nonsense. It's clear you've forgotten our old life, I don't blame you; I'll make you remember everything," he said with the sweet tone dripping from his lips as he took your arm with his big hand and forced your body to stick to his. No, listen, please we need you to give us back the water, there are extremist creinets who are destroying everything and…" - Before you could finish your protests, large lips pressed firmly against yours while the large golden hook gripped its large curve at your hip. His kiss was scorching, full of need and a certain nostalgia as his big tongue went into your mouth, desecrating it and claiming it with possessiveness. His big tongue swirled against yours, starting a dance filled with love and lust. Your senses were quickly overwhelmed by the kiss of the bigger man, having no choice but to reciprocate it awkwardly, opening your mouth while you felt a small trickle of mixed saliva drip down your lips.

His hand swept across your body, running his long fingers over your shoulders, past your collarbones until he reached the valley between your breasts, a shiver ran through your body as your cheeks began to turn red. He broke away from the kiss, watching with delight as a thin thread of saliva connected both lips, quickly his mouth went to your neck, gently kissing it and sticking out his wide tongue, licking a long ditch of your sensitive skin making you gasp. At the pathetic noise that escaped your lips Crocodile couldn't help but growl, licking again that sensitive spot of skin that opened his mouth, revealing his gleaming teeth and four long fangs which quickly pierced the delicate skin of your neck. You let out a groan of pain as your hands quickly reach for his broad shoulders, grabbing and clawing at them as your head moved to the side at the intrusion.Small threads of blood began to run from the bite the man gave you; But they didn't get very far, as his tongue quickly collected the crimson liquid until it left your neck completely full of saliva and with a large teeth mark that was changing from red to purple. Crocodile's head rested in the hollow of your neck, burying his nose in it as he inhaled your sweet scent now mixed with the strong metallic smell of blood, his large hand caressing the section of your breasts, squeezing them through the thin white fabric with his large hand which easily took your entire breast. You gasped with heavy breathing as your eyesight vaguely failed at the sudden small loss of blood—"My sweet wife, I missed your sweet taste so much." - I whisper with that deep voice on your neck, causing a flash of heat to run straight into your core. The huge hook that grabbed your hip rose gently, and in one swift movement you felt the cold air of the room embrace your body, Crocodile had torn off the simple robe with that big hook, leaving you totally naked before the sharp eyes of the great man who hovered in front of you -"Let me see that beautiful body you have, I've missed him so much." -Your nipples quickly erected at the welcome of the room air, the deity's long fingers quickly curled into your sweet erect buds, twisting these as his lips left small hickeys along your neck, slowly going down to your collarbone, toasting it with kisses and small licks, making your body tremble at attention

"Look at you… My little flower is anxious for her god, isn't she, darling? Open those beautiful legs for me so I can see how needy you are darling." - His booming voice made your heart pump hard and blood rush through your body. The hand that was in charge of playing with your sensitive and now lightly red nipples was slowly descending your body, running its large, calloused fingers across your soft belly, caressing it along the way until its large palm hollowed out your already wet pussy. You gasped at the touch as your hand forced your thighs open for it, exposing your wet little pussy and the mount of both thighs already moistened between tiny threads of your fluids. Crocodile's eyes slowly lowered until they landed on your wet pussy already needed by the little attention he had given to your body, he gasped pleased to see your soft folds already wet because of him and couldn't stop his cock from throbbing at the sight. Everything about you was driving him crazy in those moments, he had been longing for your touch, to drink from the sight of your beautiful little needy because of him, he wanted to sink his teeth back into your flesh, to lick your sweet blood that would always surpass any hydromiel they gave him, he wanted to eat you completely, to sink into you in every possible way, he wanted to mark you, that you would never leave his side again, to keep you to himself, to become his sweet little wife, to fill you completely with his cock and his divine cum; I loved you whole. His thick fingers encircled your sensitive clitoris, causing your legs to shake and a moan to escape your throat "Look at you dear, you are soaked, and just for having touched and marked you… I don't blame you my love, I'll take care of you," he whispered on your neck as he gave a long lick to the extension of it, savoring the sweet taste of your skin. His fingers began to circle your clit, fiddling with it as I watched your pussy get wetter and wetter by the minute. You groaned helplessly at him, tremblingly grasping his arm as you tried to look at the man – "N-no… I… Y-you're wro..." - A swift movement of his experimental fingers silenced you with a moan as he lifted his face from the majar of your neck, resting his forehead against yours as he made both noses collide, his large golden eyes fixed on yours as his lizard pupils pierced through your body and soul -"Shhhh, my love don't talk… Let your god take care of this, yes?" - He said in a melodious tone as one of his fingers began to push against your entrance. You moaned choked in lust, trying to speak as Crocodile's big finger pumped your exquisite entrance, you moaned in moaning mode as the man's tongue came out of his mouth, tenderly licking your lips with a slight playful smile – "Just like that honey, do you hear it? Do you hear your wet pussy begging for me?" One of his free fingers began to play with your clitoris again, making you shudder and let out a louder moan, you stared lost in sensations at the man, trying to pronounce some coherent word

A second finger was inserted inside you, making you stand on tiptoe at the sensation of how you were stretched, Crocodile snorted while his forehead remained close to yours, aware of your adorable reactions as I felt his cock tremble against his robe and form a small spot of moisture, he wanted so much to bury himself in your extrexho hole; But I wanted to prepare you enough for him. The speed of his hand increased, making the hand that was gripping his forearm tighter, your legs failed; But the grip of the hook on your waist prevented you from collapsing against it. Her two fingers were already quite overwhelming inside you, they were so big that you felt full to the brim, they kept moving up and down your rubbery walls, opening them up and down while making you shudder at the constant touch on that sensitive point. Crocodile's lips began to kiss tenderly all over your face, giving you encouraging words as his fingers scissored inside you—"My precious girl, you are doing so well. You can't wait for me to fill you with my cock, aren't you?" - He spoke in a honeyed tone while a third finger was slowly inserted along with the others. You arched your back as a high-pitched moan escaped your lungs, Crocodile's lips closed against yours, giving you a loving, lustful kiss as his three fingers quickly boomed your moist inside. Everything was too much at that moment, Crocodile's lips against yours, his tongue tangling against yours, the heat his body gave off against yours and how his big fingers opened your insides to him.

A second finger was inserted inside you, making you stand on tiptoe at the sensation of how you were stretched, Crocodile snorted while his forehead remained close to yours, aware of your adorable reactions as I felt his cock tremble against his robe and form a small spot of moisture, he wanted so much to bury himself in your extrexho hole; But I wanted to prepare you enough for him. The speed of his hand increased, making the hand that was gripping his forearm tighter, your legs failed; But the grip of the hook on your waist prevented you from collapsing against it. Her two fingers were already quite overwhelming inside you, they were so big that you felt full to the brim, they kept moving up and down your rubbery walls, opening them up and down while making you shudder at the constant touch on that sensitive point. Crocodile's lips began to kiss tenderly all over your face, giving you encouraging words as his fingers scissored inside you—"My precious girl, you are doing so well. You can't wait for me to fill you with my cock, aren't you?" - He spoke in a honeyed tone while a third finger was slowly inserted along with the others. You arched your back as a high-pitched moan escaped your lungs, Crocodile's lips closed against yours, giving you a loving, lustful kiss as his three fingers quickly boomed your moist inside. Everything was too much at that moment, Crocodile's lips against yours, his tongue tangling against yours, the heat his body gave off against yours and how his big fingers opened your insides to him.

Crocodile's lips parted from yours, directing them to your forehead and giving her an affectionate kiss - "That's my girl, cumming for me.." - He spoke with delight as he slowly withdrew his fingers from you, feeling strangely empty as you squeezed into nothingness. Crocodile's wet fingers went up to his face, opening them slightly, being able to blur the threads of your arousal by creating small rows – "Look at this darling. Look how wet you are now, without a doubt you will be able to take me without any problem my love" - she said lovingly while she brought her fingers to her lips, opening them and starting to lick your sweet nectar as if it were the most luxurious drink. A growl escaped his lips at your taste and he slowly pulled his fingers out of his mouth, watching you with a gaze laden with lust and pleasure. Her body gently separated from yours, starting to remove her luxurious robe to reveal her naked body, your eyes wandered over her ample pecs to her chiseled belly until you opened your eyes at the sight of the monstrous erection standing proudly against her belly, dripping from a semi-transparent liquid. A chill ran down your spine at the sight of the man's big cock, was that going to fit inside you? You weren't entirely sure. Crocodile seeing your hesitation and slight fear in his eyes took you in his arms, pressing your back against the nearest column while his glans pricked your entrance and moistened it with his pre-cum -"My love, don't be scared, you're ready, you're going to take me very well"- I whisper with love in your ear while you felt how little by little I was entering your moist interior. You let out a moan of a mixture of pleasure and pain at the great intrusion into your body, you could only feel his big cock slowly splitting you in two. Crocodile grunted at the embrace of your tight walls, slowly sheathing into you until he hit rock bottom, making them both gasp. The man closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, controlling himself so as not to hit you hard against that column before your exquisite interior, his hand snaked to your belly caressing it and smiling proudly when he felt the lump that was peeking out, starting to caress it while his lips kissed your neck -"You get along with me so well my love. Do you feel me? You feel my big cock sticking out of you, huh honey?"Again everything was overwhelming, the sound of both skins touching, Crocodile's grunts against your neck, his big cock pounding inside you. The hand on your belly began to quickly brush against your clitoris, causing you to lose your composure as your small hands gripped the man's shoulders tightly. An experimental swipe of his cock along with his fingers moving against your clit made your body give way, cumming around Crocodile's cock, making you arch your back and throw your head back

Your body fell limp against hers as you listened to Crocodile's grunts and as if cock trembled inside you – "Honey you feel so good around me… Now let me finish, love." With that said, his hips began to move rapidly against yours, leaving you halfway out and re-entering all at once. Your head fell backwards as you groaned at their hard thrusts and overstimulation, you could feel your back scraping against the great column and how it could drift into any momentum on you; but it seemed that didn't matter in the slightest to the man, slamming you flawlessly against the stone – "That's honey… Just a little longer and I'll fill you with my seed, you'll be mine… My wife, you want that right love, say it, say it."- Her bright golden eyes landed on your trembling body, still moving her hips quickly. His hand gripped your cheeks, forcing you to stare at him as his cock pounded your cervix – "Say it my love, say you want to be my wife, say you want me to fill you with my seed" – "And-I… Please make me yours… Fill me, make me your wife," you said between babblings as you stared lost in lust in the man. He let out a low growl and his teeth sank back into the soft skin of your neck, giving one last push to his hips and filling your insides completely with his abundant cum. You gasped at the amount and the bite, Crocodile's lips absorbing your skin while thick strings of cum continued to shoot inside you, filling your uterus to the full.

Soon Crocodile lay next to you, taking your hips and sticking his body to yours, hugging you lovingly as his eyes looked at you with pure adoration. His hand moved up to your cheek, touching it and putting a strand of your hair behind your ear as he kissed your forehead lovingly

"My desert flower, I am so happy to have you back in my arms… You are my wife now and there will be nothing to separate you from me, I promise my dear." -

[burningcheese-merchant]

A Headcanon for Nutmeg Tiger Cookie

While placing Nutmeg Tiger in all the different work spaces to see how she reacts to them, I noticed that the only things she actually enjoys doing are:

Waving

Watering

It is therefore reasonable to assume that, contrary to her harsh nature, she actually really likes talking to people... and, perhaps secretly, enjoys gardening.

HEADCANON TIME:

Nutmeg Tiger never indulges in these hidden passions of hers, because she believes - or rather, she was taught to believe - that they are a waste of time. Talking is cheap and pointless; gardening is pathetic, pure and simple. Gardening is the worse one of the two, really. Why waste even a fraction of your time and effort on something so fragile and weak? Something that can't be useful? That can't fight?

(Deep down, NT is afraid of admitting she likes these things because she doesn't want to be perceived as soft, especially by her master... especially for the gardening thing, because she knows Burning Spice would likely go out of his way to destroy any plant she cares for, either as a form of punishment or just because.)

Now, I've already predicted that the Wild Spices will turn against BS and join Golden Cheese after she awakens and defeats him, because they respect power above all else and she will be the most powerful one at that point (and also she's liberated them from BS's tyranny, but whatevs). Going with this, and with the idea that some spices go back to the GC Kingdom alongside GC herself: NT remains apprehensive for a really long time after all is said and done, just because she's had it drilled into her skull for so long that GC is/was the enemy, and she's just not as easily swayed as the others.

But... GC is actually kind to her, despite everything that happened. She tries to engage her in conversation (which NT rebuffs for a while, until she eventually gives in, because GC and her subjects are very stubborn outgoing and seem to want to bring her out of her shell... and it's... nice to actually be able to sit and chat with people for once...), she invites her to parties, she invites her to meals. It almost seems as though GC is trying a little extra hard to accommodate and befriend NT specifically.

NT does not fully buy into any of this for a long time. While she secretly does appreciate these gestures (and even now, she remembers when GC called BS out for ignoring NT when she was badly injured), it's just not enough. Her shell is too hard to crack.

...Until one day, GC comes by and asks for a favor. She brings NT to her palace garden (always figured she had one haha), full of lilies and lotuses and exotic cacti, and many other desert plants. GC says that she noticed how NT seems to relax more around plants (she actually noticed that???), and thought that, perhaps, it might be good to give her something important - something non-violent but still productive - to do in the kingdom.

NT agrees to help look after the garden, albeit begrudgingly... on the surface, anyway. Only on the surface. Because with GC doing this for her, with GC actually being attentive enough to know her subjects' likes and wants, with GC actively working to help NT achieve hers even in spite of what transpired between them in the past... With GC giving her something NT considers invaluable, granting her secret wish, and thus embodying this virtue of Abundance she so champions...

...She finally understands why Golden Cheese is so loved by so many.

[redskull199987]

A bright Future

Paul Atreides x fem!reader Word Count:1.4k Warnings:minor Spoilers for Dune Part II, Blood, stab Wound, Violence, you know the drill Summary:You thought you were going to be fine. Until you saw Paul cry. He knew the Rules of the Desert better than anyone else. Seeing him waste his Water so freely told you how serious the Situation was…

Masterlist

It was quiet. Or at least that’s what it felt like. A quiet and short moment, that barely anyone around you noticed. You had always thought getting stabbed would be a sharp pain, naturally. That you’d scream out in pain or drop to your knees. 

But none of that ever happened. It wasn’t a sharp pain, it felt dull and barely noticeable. It was the adrenaline and Spice running through your system. Or that’s what you told yourself. You had to tell yourself something. Something to keep you focused, to tell yourself to not black out. To pull out the blade and kill the Harkonnen Warrior in front of you. 

You felt slow, awfully slow. You thought that if you had been any slower, the Harkonnen might have stopped and laughed at you for ever thinking you could beat him. But Paul and Chani later told you, they had never seen someone move so fast, like you did in that moment.

The Adrenaline, you told yourself again. Over and over again. You had to keep fighting, finish the Mission. Save the Fremen. The people that had become your family, even over the short time that you had been on Arrakis. You just had to make it, that you owed them.

The next few minutes felt like you weren’t even in control of your own body. Like you were a watcher, an observer. It felt like you were back on Caladan, watching a filmbook about the Fremen with Paul. You saw yourself fight against the Harkonnen with Paul while Chani fired her weapon at the Thopters. You saw the Explosion and felt the earth shatter from the sheer power of the blast. It must’ve been the Spice, you thought. Granting you views and visions you weren’t even capable of seeing. As an Outsider, you had always been sensitive to the Melange.

And lastly, you felt the Pain.

The Pain of the weight of the world crashing down on you again. First there was silence, but suddenly you felt everything everywhere all at once. You felt like the sand beneath your feet was pulling you down and no matter how much you fought against it, you couldn’t escape it. Couldn’t escape fate. Couldn’t escape death.

You abruptly came to a halt. Paul’s hand left yours and you saw your two companions run a little further, until they noticed that you had stopped. You heard Paul call out to you and a few seconds later, he came running over to you. His expression was of pure panic when his gaze wandered from your face to your abdomen. You had pressed a hand against it, but it seemed useless. Thick warm Blood was oozing out between your fingers. It felt comforting, somehow. It told you that you weren’t dead, yet. Somewhere in your mind, you heard Stilgar scolding you, every drop of Blood was valuable Water. Water that was now lost in the Dunes of Arrakis.

“Paul?”, You mumbled. You were sure he didn’t even hear you with how quiet you spoke. Your mouth felt awfully dry. But what you did know, was that he saw you fall. And you felt his arms as they wrapped around you, dragging you back to your feet, urging you to keep going. A soft groan left your lips, as you did as he told you. Just a few more meters. A few more meters and you'd be over the next Dune. You’d be safe. You knew that the rest of your people weren’t far away. Neither was Sietch Tabr. You were almost sure that you were going to make it. That was until you saw Paul cry. Saw how his tears dropped into the hot sand, evaporating almost immediately. He knew the Rules of the Desert better than anyone else. And seeing him waste his Water so freely told you how serious the Situation was.

When you reached the top of the Dune, The Spice Harvester behind you exploded, sending the three of you flying down on the other side. Your ears rang from the Explosion. But you barely even acknowledged it. You tightly pressed your hand on top of the Wound as you tumbled down in the sand, but it  was useless. Finally, after what felt like ages, you released a scream. A scream so earth shattering, Paul later told you, he thought he’d lost you in that exact moment.

For a few Seconds, all you heard were your own wheezing Breaths, the blood rushing in your ears and the sand crunching beneath your Body. When Paul and Chani came into view, you heard their Voices. Loud and Clear. You wanted to answer them. Tell them that you were going to be fine.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t talk and if you could’ve, you didn’t even know if you could promise them that you were going to be alright. You so desperately wanted to talk to them. Talk to Paul. Tell him how much you loved him, that you would follow him to the very end. Talk to Chani, tell her how much you appreciated her, how thankful you were that she took you in and accepted her as one of her own People.

But you couldn’t. All you managed to do was lift your hand, even just a few centimeters above the Ground. And when Paul grabbed your hand, squeezed it ever so tightly, you knew that it was going to be alright. It had to be. it just had to.

And then you blacked out. 

You were older. So much older. At least ten years. Over the time, you’ve had many Spice-induced Visions. Never as strong as Pauls, only snippets. Short moments, often not far into the future, just a few weeks, a month tops. 

But this was different. This was at least a decade into the Future. And it felt so vivid, you almost thought it was real. When you saw your own face, older and more mature, standing alongside Paul and behind a long table that you knew was in the throne room of Arrakeen, many familiar faces gathered around it, alongside with some you didn’t know, yet. You knew you were not dead, you couldn’t be. For what reason would you be seeing this, if you weren’t going to make it. It would be worthless. 

As the Vision started to fade, you saw Paul look at you. Not at the older You, but at you. You who were observing this. And it felt like he could see you, standing there at the other side of the Table, smiling at you like he always did when he tried to comfort you. Your brows furrowed in confusion, but there was nothing you could do, as you felt your mind slip out of the vision and back into reality.

You heard all kinds of voices around you, most of them familiar. You felt the bed beneath your body, you smelled the warm air of Sietch Tabr. You knew you were Home. And when you finally opened your eyes, you heard a chorus of cheers break out around you. You saw the warm smile of Stilgar who patted your shoulder before he scurried off to tell the good news to the rest of the Fremen. Next you saw Lady Jessica, your Reverend Mother standing in the Corner of the Room. She gave you an acknowledging nod. You bowed your head in return, knowing that you probably owed her your survival.

Lastly, you saw Chani and Paul who were sitting at your bedside. When your Gaze wandered to them, as you sat up you couldn’t help but laugh. it was a warm and genuine Laugh. You were alive. You had made it and you would live to see them again, the people who mattered most to you. Chani smiled at you in return, gently squeezing your hand, before standing up to join Stilgar and the other Fremen outside.

Paul and You were the only People who remained in the now silent room.

“I thought I’d lost you.”, he finally sniffled. You slowly looked up, seeing that Tears were running down his face. “But you didn’t.”, You answered firmly, raising your hand to wipe away his tears,”So, stop wasting your water.”

Paul chuckled quietly, putting his hand on top of yours, closing his eyes in relief. With a grin, you leaned your head against his, swaying in the warm sun of Arrakis.

“Trust me, we have a bright Future ahead of Us.”

[bleedingmusk]

Ya Allaah I gear up my tawakkul and hopes on You I expect impossible from You my Lord who is indeed the Lord of impossible, Who made possible for Your virgin untouched chaste slave to nurture a small human in her womb and gave birth in best of form, You who kept Your beloved slave alive in a belly of whale for certain days and nights, You who made the blazing hot fire cool for Your intimate friend, You who saved Your sincere slave and his people when the whole world was drowning, You who spilt the sea into two for Your close slave when he was stricken with impossibility, You who fulfilled the barren old womb of wife of Your fearing slave with a living soul, You who uplifted Your patient slave into heavens under and keeping under Your care, You who have flowed streams of holy water in the middle of desert for Your tired hungry slave, You who made spider weave a web in matters of second and Who willed for a peigon to lay eggs in moments to protect one of Your chosen slave and also aided him with ranks of angels, Who did every impossible possible just by saying كن and it was done just like that by Your Might and Power, miracle does happen by Your Strength O Ever Living O Self Sustainable my needs and my problems are not as big as those who once lived before me with dignity and honour by Your grace, yet these problems are drowning me day by day and each passing night it submerges my strength but not even for a moment I doubt in You or Your help or Your Aid. Just uplift these trials from me and unite me with my love of this and after life, grant me best in this world and next one. This Ramadan in this holy month in these special nights by Your Strength, Your Power, Your Might, Your Rahma, Your Love, Your Invincibility change my situation and grant me what my hearts longs for, it eagerly yearns for relief O Creator of my heart and feelings fulfill my needs I depend upon You, You are free of need while I need You every second of my life I entrust my affairs on You for verily You are the best of Judge and Guarantor my Beloved accept my supplication as You are the Responder of supplication Ameen.

[moongothic]

There is something so interesting to me about the whole "Devil Fruits are manifestations of people's desires" concept... Mainly because, when you think about it, a lot of characters do end up having Devil Fruits that like, suit them, you know?

Althought people do tend speculate about it, we can't really say for sure that a "Devil Fruit chooses its user", like it's not canon yet. But if there was some funny thing of FATE that somehow leads specific people to certain powers that they, subconciously or not, desired and wished for... It would explain how so many characters end up with powers they're happy with, abilities that really suit them, even if/when they can't know for sure what powers they might end up with

Like we have Kaku and Kalifa who both seemed happy with the abilities they obtained despite having no idea what powers the mystery fruits the Government offered them would grant them. And that's just those two. Aokiji is a very Chill Dude so his Ice Fruit suits him, same could be said for Ace who was a bit of a hot head. The Wapol's ability to nom on literally anything goes well with his appetite, while Iva-chan and Bon-chan both obtained powers perfect for exploring their genders and identities. Luffy is a ridiculous ray of sunshine, while both Moria and Perona got the most goth-ass fruits available. Buggy's circus acts aside, Shanks did split his heart into pieces that have not come back together yet (though this did not kill the clown, just left him in pieces). Law's fruit was best suited in the hands of a doctor and not only was he was the son of doctor, but he specifically needed its power to not die. Kuma needed the hands of liberation to save not just himself but so many other slaves at God's Valley, and so many others later in life. All Robin wanted was to hold hands with her mom.

With that all in mind. How does Crocodile's ability... suit Crocodile..?

Like sure, on a pure surface level, it suits him in the sense that he was The Final Boss of the Sand Level. You go to a desert, you gonna find some sand. And of course, Alabasta was suffering from severe drought that Crocodile was manufacturing. The Drought Man taking the rain from a country makes sense.

And maybe there isn't anything more to it than that.

But also like, think about it with me for a second

The man who once dreamt of becoming fucking Pirate King ended up a Sand Logia. And I don't even mean that in the "lmao water is his weakness" kinda way (though it certainly doesn't help, all you need is one (1) battle in the middle of a storm and you're dead), I mean like. How doth one rule the seas when your power is to rule the earth instead. That Logia in particular is about as fitting for a Pirate King as a beach is a fitting place for a whale to live on. So if Devil Fruits are somehow drawn to people whom they might suit the most, then how did the Sand Logia end up with Crocodile? How was that the most suitable fruit for him? Was it just bad luck? Was it fate? Did Crocodile even really yearn for that throne to begin with, or was it just the idea of absolute power and fame instead?

Sidenote, but it is worth pointing out that we don't know when Crocodile ate his Devil Fruit. For all we know, it could've been years after he got his ass kicked by Whitebeard, when he had already given up on his dreams. If can't become the king of the oceans, then a Desert King is okay too

I do also want to point out... Was Crocodile drawn to this fruit because it's sand? Because nothing can really grow and blossom in nothing but dry sand, nothing can live in it. Because deserts and wastelands are lonely places. None of Crocodile's plans have ever turned out like he wanted them to, nothing has come to fruition from his ventures. And Crocodile if anyone knows a thing or two about solitude.

[mariacallous]

Are you, like millions of Americans, feeling hopeless and fearful about the dawning of a new age of fascism? And are you, like millions of Americans, in search of a New Year’s resolution that won’t require you to lose weight or go to therapy? Happily, both of these problems can be solved with one action: resolve to make 2025 the year of no snitching.

Choose as your New Year’s mantra that great civic-minded slogan: “If you saw something, no you didn’t.”

Bad times are coming. In less than a month, Trump will return to the White House, with far fewer checks on his power than he had the first time around. He will be surrounded by a team of sociopaths, internet-poisoned bigots and single-issue quacks who have figured out that for the low, low price of absolute loyalty, their boss will grant them the absolute right to pursue their deranged passions as far as they please.

We are entering an age of boutique persecution, in which a broad swath of maniacs will be unleashed by a president devoid of ideology but full of narcissistic craving. A thousand petty tyrants will soon occupy the halls of the federal government. On the other side of this corps of gleeful little bullies sits the general public. We will all be enlisted, to varying degrees, as either collaborators or targets.

Yet hidden in this grim forecast is a chance for all of us to do something righteous. Government persecution requires a lot of informers. It is hard to deport immigrants, infiltrate protest groups and attack civil society without a lot of people telling the powers-that-be where all their enemies are and what they’re doing. None of the most oppressive regimes in history could do it with secret police alone. They needed the help of snitches. Fascism needs snitches everywhere in order to work. By vowing not to snitch, you can therefore strike a blow for justice, without doing anything at all.

It’s easy: when Ice shows up at your workplace asking whether you’ve got any immigrants working there – you don’t know. Have you seen any foreign-looking day laborers working around town? You sure haven’t. Has anyone speaking Spanish offered to babysit for you, tutor your kids, sell you food, do your yardwork or write for your op-ed page? Nope. Hey, have you left water for people wandering through the desert borderlands, or given money to immigrant mothers peddling candy on the train? No, officer, I’m sorry. It doesn’t ring a bell.

“But if you give me your card, officer, I’ll be sure to give you a call if I see anything,” you add helpfully, while dropping the card directly into an oversized envelope with “FOR ANTIFA” scrawled on the outside.

Protecting hardworking immigrants from red-faced deportation thugs is only the most obvious venue for not snitching. The principle can also be applied anywhere that a boss is likely to take advantage of our newly callous political climate.

Have you heard any whispers about a union drive here at our lovely workplace? Sorry, no. Have you heard any of your fellow college students plotting a new Gaza protest encampment? No, sir, not a word. We’ve gotten reports that your co-workers have commandeered one of the storage closets here at Walmart and turned it into an unauthorized nap room; can you point us in the right direction? There could be a promotion in it for you.

Gosh. You would love to. But you just don’t know anything about it.

A resolution not to snitch will, I assure you, be condemned as anti-American. So it is. The US relies on snitches to carry out secret drone strikes, to kidnap foreign nationals to black-site prisons, to send Swat teams breaking through the door of your friend who sells weed, to sic the code enforcement squad on your neighbor who has not kept their lawn trimmed to the mandatory length. Snitching is as necessary to the US’s most oppressive impulses as oxygen is to fire.

This dynamic will only get more true next year, since Donald Trump makes retaliatory decisions based not on the consensus advice of a meticulous team of professionals, but rather on the gossip he heard from a thrice-divorced Mazda dealership owner on the patio at Mar-a-Lago. The full apparatus of the state will now be conducted according to rumors and innuendo filtered through the addled mind of a reality television star. If there were ever a time to refrain from unleashing the authorities on a minor quality-of-life offender out of an abundance of concern for human rights, this is it.

Though always popular with normal people, “no snitching” has long been derided by the lords of public opinion: “Why, that is a slogan of rappers, and gang members, and people who are stealing cable straight from the pole! Hardly something that should be tolerated in civic society!” That haughty attitude is more wrong now than ever.

Set aside the slogan and consider the values that we are trying to promote here: protecting the weak from the strong; shielding the vulnerable from powerful sadists; and, above all, trying to make high-strung White House crypto-fascist Stephen Miller so frustrated that he bursts into a puff of smoke like the villain in a Looney Tunes cartoon. These are all proper – even admirable – ethical goals.

So stop asking yourself what you can do to help our nation next year. Channel your nervous energy into keeping your mouth shut. The truth is that the country’s problems are not, and have never been, caused by unlicensed taco vendors or people playing reggaeton a little too loud or people whose zealous Halloween decorations are not explicitly allowed by zoning bylaws.

The country’s problems are caused by the people most likely to be snitched to, not snitched on. What we really need to fear are those eager to lord their positions over everyone else. The boss, not the worker. The cop, not the vagrant. The president, not the protesters. Today, billionaires with White House offices are much greater threats to our quality of life than anyone whom those billionaires might brand an enemy.

That is why it’s OK to maintain at least one exception to your New Year’s resolution: if you know a rich person cheating on their taxes, snitch away. Law and order, after all, must be maintained.

What’s giving me hope right now

Trump’s election in 2016 produced widespread shock, followed by a fruitless four years of quasi-religious belief that our precious norms would save us from his ravages. This time around, we have that experience to teach us all that those norms are utterly illusory. Resisting a slide into fascism means building institutions powerful enough to counter Trump on his own terms.

I put my hope in a resurgent labor movement, which is now boiling with grassroots enthusiasm, as well as the unavoidable fact that a growth in worker power is the only thing that can reverse our 50-year-long crisis of inequality. If you need hope, join a union. We’re all going to need them.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Haha hey remember that fluff I wrote, well, uh, whoops

The sun shone so brightly, almost too brightly. She shielded her eyes.

Ganondorf waited in silence. Tonight was the night.

Red mixed with stone. Fluid in its motion, like water flowing through the streets.

Hemisi stood before him, looking somewhat uncertain. The sight of it frustrated him, conflicting emotions creating an admixture that led to anger. “You know your duty, daughter.”

“I… I know,” Hemisi said hesitantly. “But I… why do we have to attack them?”

“The Triforce is a power long hoarded by Hyrule,” Ganondorf explained. “A power they have kept to themselves when we could utilize it.”

“It will bring our people prosperity,” Nabooru added reassuringly.

Hemisi and her brother glanced at each other. Merovar nodded, eyes alight with interest and desire. Ganondorf smiled at his son; he’d certainly inherited his thirst for power. It was one of the reasons he had especially taken the boy under his wing. Hemisi held more of her mother’s caution, which, while useful, was certainly impeding them tonight.

Her brother elbowed her. “Relax. It’s not like we’re attacking him. He just needs to be taken out of play.”

His daughter hugged herself, looking away, before she tipped her head in acknowledgement. “I’ll handle it.”

The sunlight grew brighter, nearly blinding her. Then its light shattered into sparkling rainfall, coalescing into three golden images.

Castle Town was silent as they approached. Ganondorf felt himself smile. Finally, after years of waiting.

To think everything had come to this. He had spent years trying to curry favor of the king of his own Hyrule, so long ago it felt like a lifetime, before that little green clad brat had thwarted him. He’d figured he’d meet his doom at the hands of the sages, but when Din had granted him her favor and allowed him to escape into the Twilight Realm, and then shown him a way out of his future execution at the hands of yet another Hero…

Well. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. Din’s words of warning were long forgotten in the back of his mind.

Your lust for power will be your undoing.

Bold words from the goddess of power herself. What a hypocrite.

Ganondorf’s smile grew. Tonight was the night.

She could almost make out the first image. The gold stained red and black, a cloud shrouding its bright majesty and nearly enveloping her as she screamed and pulled away.

Link wandered the hallways of the castle, yawning. He was mildly annoyed that he’d gotten the night shift tonight, as he’d just returned from his journey to the desert. He wished Lady Impa would at least give him a day’s rest before he had to stay up all night. Oh, well.

Stretching, Link glanced at the window, his red eyes hardly visible on the glass. It was practically pitch black outside with the new moon.

When he heard a light footstep behind him, he twirled, immediately reaching for his sword, and then paused midway through the motion. “Hemisi?”

“Orik,” the Gerudo warrior acknowledged with an apologetic shrug. “Hey. Sorry I scared you.”

“How did you get in here?” Link asked. “You’re not allowed—”

Hemisi pulled him in for a quick kiss, catching him off guard, and then she laughed nervously. “I—sorry, I just wanted… wanted to…”

Link stared at her, dumbfounded. He wasn’t unhappy to see her, but… something was clearly bothering her. “What’s wrong?”

Hemisi bit her lip, and she guided him further down the hallway, pausing in front of a door to a closet. “I’m sorry.”

Link blinked, even more confused. “Sorry? For what?”

Hemisi pulled him for another kiss and then hugged him, holding him so tightly it almost hurt. She was trembling.

“Hemisi, what—”

Before Link could finish the question, Hemisi shoved him into the closet hard enough for him to smack his head against the back wall, and then the door slammed closed. Link stumbled to the ground, dizzy, and then tried to open the door.

It was locked.

“Hemisi!” he called.

“I’m sorry, Link,” was all he heard in reply.

She couldn’t quite outrun the darkness and gloom. It snaked around her ankle, making her scream and fall, before golden light burned it, holding it at bay.

The streets of Castle Town ran red with blood. The bells in the tower began to toll. Soldiers ran to find guards already fallen. A Sheikah warrior screamed from his new prison, searching frantically for an escape route as he slammed repeatedly into the door until it yielded to him.

The golden light in front of her coalesced into a figure. Short in stature, strong in build, fearless in stance.

She knew him.

Link tore through the hallway, breathless and frantic. What is happening what is happening—

The gloom overshadowed everything. The corrupted gold melted into the warrior, trying to kill him. She cried out to him, and the final piece encased her in its light.

It wasn’t enough. The darkness came, and Zelda was eaten alive.

Princess Zelda gasped as she awoke from her nightmare, adrenaline rushing through her just as the door to her chambers burst open.

Her Sheikah protector, Orik, ran to her side. “Princess, are you alright?”

“I—” she paused, trying to slow her racing heart, when she heard the bells tolling, indicating something was unfathomably wrong. Ice filled her veins. “The Triforce!”

“Wha—Princess!”

Orik’s protests were lost to her as she ran out of the room. She didn’t care that she was in a nightdress or barefoot, she had to be sure. She’d never experienced such a dream, but she knew, she knew that it had to do with the Triforce. She’d been getting an overwhelming sense of dread ever since the Gerudo had started to negotiate with her father.

It didn’t take much to curry favor from the man, after all, and Ganondorf had been more than eager to stroke his ego.

Zelda shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts. What mattered now was the safety of their most precious and holy relic.

“Princess, it isn’t safe!” Orik called from behind her, but she ignored him. She took the fastest route to the Temple of Time, utilizing the passageways that were just for the royal family.

Blood stained the cobblestone as she rushed outside. She inhaled sharply, avoiding ramming her foot into the armor of a fallen soldier. Orik froze at her side, taking in the scene as well.

Both the princess and the warriors’ eyes fell on a fallen enemy. A Gerudo.

“No…” Orik whispered. “What…”

“Make haste!” Zelda insisted, running ahead. “We have to protect the Triforce!”

Ahead, the Gerudo had already eliminated the final guards. Ahead, Ganondorf walked forward proudly, basking in his victory. Nabooru turned as she heard the pitter patter of bare feet.

“Quickly, Gan,” she whispered.

The Triforce floated in front of him, unprotected and exposed. How foolish these Hylians were, to not even hide it in the Sacred Realm as the people in his own timeline had done so.

Ganondorf reached forward. Victory was at hand.

Princess Zelda reached forward. Everything was at stake.

Link reached forward. This couldn’t be happening.

A golden light shone brightly, almost too brightly. The world grew unbearable in every way imaginable, hot and cold and painful and numb and light and so, so dark.

Gold split thrice over, and the world changed forever.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tags @halfbakedspuds @paeliae-occasionally and @somethingclevermahogony!

Find the Word Tag

My Words: Dawn, Dark, Death, Deep, Bold, Fire, Survivor, Chase, Time, Ball, Intense, Fast

Your Words: Panic, Teeth, Blue, Snap

MG3 is getting kinda chunky at this point, so let's give it a go!

.

"We can transmute the metaphysical Veil particles into sterile biological matter," the witch gasped. "The Chosen'll be able to jumpstart the cell cycle. I just gotta perfect those mental transfer runes, but then... Oh gods, Mashal."

It took a second for understanding to dawn. Mashal's lamplight eyes went wide. He might not have been a witch, however, he'd started to learn to speak their language pretty well by now.

"Please, you're say- saying what I think you are, right?"

.

Before they could dally in the courtyard much longer, the front door of the compound swung open and a man stepped out, waving to them. He was quite tall. Astra put him at a few years older than herself, or maybe older, given his elven ears and siren-dark eyes. It could be hard to tell with either of those long-lived folk.

He also wasn't blue. Astra narrowed her eyes. Was Ivander just some kind of genetic freak compared to the rest of his family?

.

Avymere stifled a cough at the unexpected panic that idea put in their chest. Like distant smoke, the scent of burning hydraulic fluid and a tide of blood caught in their nose. The sounds of breaking bones and their father's pained gasps pierced their ears. The flash of a knife. The shine of eikodoro. The screams of their people, conquered.

"We are not retreating," the Duchon growled. "The longer we take to act, the longer the people of Salis - of all of Skysheer - are held in Vermir's grasp. Every second we waste means the death of another sorcerer whom it is my duty to protect. We push on."

.

Deep in the witch's mind, a spark of unexpected hope kindled, fanned by shame and self-blame. What about the dark beyond? Magic as the world knew it couldn't heal - that was a fact. But Vermir had become something very close to immortal through the harnessing of its power. And she hadn't even succeeded at her ritual fully! What if Astra could use this mystery to fix her mistakes? What if she could-

.

"Sir!" the Duchon called. They waved boldly at the caravan master, who had stepped off his crate for a sip of water. "You wouldn't happen to be heading to Whitefang, would you?"

The lizardfolk man cocked his head, blinking buggy yellow eyes as he took in Avymere's appearance. They had modified their accent to sound more Unitian - a flawless rendition to Elsind's untrained ears, at least - and smiled with a focused, businesslike intensity.

.

The fire in Avymere's chest was almost foreign to them. They'd felt anger many times, yes, but then, they'd always been holding the cards. They'd known what was happening and how to control it. Only when Vermir had invaded their home had that control they'd taken for granted been stripped away.

Now some peasant thought he could leave them and Elsind stranded in the desert on no more grounds than not trusting changelings? It was ridiculous! And there was nothing they could do about it.

.

Mashal forced himself to not glance after her as the guard left, hustling off to a separate side door. For five solid minutes, it was him and the hobgoblin standing alone. He fought not to fidget as the man stared at him unrepentantly. It was so different, being seen as an object versus being seen as a person. People looked at you differently, spoke to you differently, even stood around you differently. It was fascinating, yet also rather disheartening.

In time, the giantkin guard returned, a tense expression on her face. The hobgoblin's ears perked up inquisitively as she shook her head.

"Nivi says it's a no-go. Either someone didn't send through the proper channels or the thing is busted in the runes. She said just toss it outside and hope someone picks it back up."

.

"Mashal!"

Astra screamed as she watched the monster toss her friend about twenty feet back like he didn't weigh a solid ton. Mashal's shriek, along with the lights of his eyes, was cut off as he impacted the water. She held her breath, waiting to hear him surface, only, he never did.

For a moment, it was just Astra, the beast, and the devouring dark.

Suddenly, there came a hissing swish from the side, causing Astra to drop on instinct. She was blind without Mashal to provide light, so all she could do was curl into a ball and hold her breath as she felt the beast trample over her. A yelp escaped her lips as its foot came down on her free-floating hair, ripping out a fair chunk.

.

Surprised at her acquiescence before his own, Mashal looked on as Astra took the contract from a grinning Antonin, read it over once, then turned to sign it using Marius's pen. Like many rural folk, she used the Abrimite trade script instead of proper Janazi characters to sign her name. Astra... Delmond?

Showing no hint of hesitation, Astra passed him the contract. Briefly, her eyes met his and she gave him an intense look.

Mashal took the pen with careful fingers and dipped it in the inkwell. Thankfully, his practice with drawing had given him the skill needed to apply the right amount of pressure to write, which was no mean feat in a body of unfeeling steel.

Oh gods, what names do I know? Montane? No, that's so stupid, why would you think that? Spearsong? Also a terrible idea. And I don't sound like an elf either.

Hands shaking just a bit, he signed as Mashal DuClaire before he could think of anything else. Immediate after, he wished he'd thought faster, embarrassment flooding his system as Astra raised her eyebrow a fraction of an inch. He should've signed with a robot's name! Gods beyond, this was a mess....

.

Moving on instinct, she tore free her one and only ice rune. Upon tossing it up, a shield of frost umbrellaed out on top of her. Astra scrambled along the ground as fast as she could, the thunderous cracks of the revenant's fists pounding against the ice propelling her on. She tried not to think about the fact that she'd just cut off her most immediate air supply.

Her outstretched fingers hit the revenant's wormy flesh first. Fighting not to recoil, Astra patted around until she found the muscle of what had to be the thigh. Her lungs were burning as she drew her knife, plunged it into the back of its ankle, and tore.

.

I'll tag @addicted2coke-theothercoke @finickyfelix @harrison-abbott @littlechaoticwitch and anyone else who wants in :)

[tawakkull]

ISLAM 101: Spirituality in Islam: Part 95

Halwat and Jalwat (Privacy and Company)

Literally meaning retreating to a place that is quiet and preferring solitude, halwat is used by the Sufis to mean initiates removing themselves from people to dedicate all of their time to worshipping God, and feeling God’s constant company in whatever they experience and in whatever state they find themselves in. It also denotes restricting one’s powers of sight and hearing to “seeing” and “hearing” only God, confiding in only Him, and devoting oneself exclusively to Him.

What is fundamental for halwat (privacy) is that one should purify one’s spirit, cleanse one’s soul, and turn one’s heart and conscience to God exclusively to attain His constant company. As a result of this degree of turning to God and the attainment of His company, a traveler to the Ultimate Truth is supported with certain Divine gifts and favored with breezes of inspiration. It may even occur that they converse with God beyond all terms of quality and quantity—which is called “mutual whispering” by the Sufis. These are all Divine rewards that come in return for one’s sincerity and exertion; therefore, expecting and demanding these is a show of bad manners. Thus, worshipping God and exerting oneself on His way in order to be able to receive such rewards represents deviation from the basic aim of servanthood to God and amounts to losing while on the way to winning. The perfected souls feel alarmed even over the coming of such rewards without expectations or demands, trembling with the fear that they have come to lead themselves to perdition, and they themselves are consuming the everlasting fruits of the afterlife in this fleeting world. Therefore, they supplicate to God, saying:

O God, grant those gifts to those who ask for them; Please show me only the way to Your vision (in the Hereafter). In this way they emphasize their utmost devotion to God without expecting anything in return except for His approval of them as His servants and His good pleasure.

All that we have tried to express so far to describe privacy is what the true travelers on the Sufi way have meant by it. However, some Sufi leaders have narrowed its frame and deal with it as being related to retreating to lodges where initiates undergo willful suffering; during this time, an initiate tries to become accustomed to speaking little, eating little, sleeping little, and remaining alone. This point has already been explained under the headings ofHalwat and ‘Uzlat (Privacy and Seclusion) and Chila (Suffering) in the first and second volumes of this book respectively. The Sufi scholars who approach the matter from this narrow perspective have stressed its universality, mentioning that every religion and every spiritual system gives place to privacy, even if they differ in some secondary matters. They have considered as privacy the Prophet Moses’ ten years of residence in Midian and his forty days of stay on Mount Sinai, as well as the Children of Israel’s wandering in the Sinai desert for forty years, and the Virgin Mary’s retreat which is mentioned in the Qur’anic verse, We made the Son of Mary and his mother a miraculous sign (of Our Lordship and Power), and We provided for them refuge on a lofty ground of comfort and security with a (water) spring (23:50), and, finally, God’s Messenger’s seclusion in the cave of Hira for the purpose of worship. They attach great importance to privacy in the name of spiritual purification. Even if it could be said that all of the events mentioned above do not provide some substantial religious ground for privacy, the importance of privacy serving the heart cannot be denied. The heart is regarded as the “House of God” and in this way can be purified of various attachments to things other than God, being refined and brightened so that it can receive Divine manifestations.

Privacy is important—not in remaining away from people, but as being a means for a “conversation with the All-Beloved” in the house of the heart. From this perspective, we can consider privacy to be a dimension of the spiritual journeying on the way to God and a step toward attaining His company.

Privacy, which initiates try to accomplish through cycles of forty days of suffering, in fact, serves to enable them to achieve refinement toward the purification of the heart, spirit, consciousness, and feelings so that they can turn back among people (jalwat) in order to guide them.

Privacy is a way essential to Sufism through which initiates can be refined of the carnal dimension of their nature and discover themselves in the depths of their humanity. Through privacy initiates can also clearly perceive the final purpose of their existence and experience God’s particular manifestations of His favors on them through the lens of the helplessness, poverty, and the neediness essential to their very nature. Thus, they turn to God with all of their faculties, in the full conviction of His being the sole source of real power, wealth, knowledge, and all accomplishments.

Privacy does not only consist of constant seclusion from people, as one who went to extremes in solitude said:

Brothers, my comfort lies in privacy— For to whomever I have become a friend, They publicized my faults and spread my humiliations around. During my entire life, I have not been able to find one— One who has been truly faithful. For this reason, I have found comfort in privacy. Although privacy is in appearance a retreat from people, in truth it is a process of being equipped with the necessities of guidance in order to live in people’s company.

At the beginning of journeying, those who intend such privacy withdraw to a secluded place, for example, remaining in a mosque for the purpose of worship. They eat little, drink little, sleep little, speak little, and are occupied with the remembrance of God. They never abandon reflection or self-supervision. When they have reached the final point of perfection they return among people and set out to serve them as one from among them. They attain non- existence in regards to their carnal existence and egotism and acquire an ever-active existence through the lights of the Divine existence. In the concepts, thoughts, and speeches of one who has reached this point, the self no longer exists; rather the truth and the Ultimate Truth exist. For this reason, such a person may say, “I no longer exist within me; I am no longer conscious of my existence.” In his Diwan Kabir, Jalalu’d-Din ar-Rumi describes this feeling of non-existence as follows:

We have been favored with a mystery, a journeying on the way to the Ultimate Truth. We rejoice in our non- existence. So, come and let us remain in our non- existence. The doors were closed to us before, but when we were saved from ourselves, All the doors were opened. Our hearts have been filled with peace and satisfaction Because we have remained freed from ourselves on this way. The All-Beautiful Beloved, Who kept Himself concealed from us, Has stroked our face in our non- existence. We have died for His sake and, in turn, He has saved us from ourselves. Jalwat (company) denotes that initiates are freed from self-centeredness or anything that feeds their egos and—having been equipped with God’s qualities or way of acting and being polished mirrors to His Names—dedicate themselves to service in God’s cause with whatever they have, caring about the eternal happiness of others during their whole life. Another approach to company is that after initiates are freed from relative values that are peculiar to themselves, they then devote their intellect, logic, reasoning, and tongue to the service of humanity in the light of the lamp of Prophethood.

A person who attained company illuminates some of the features of those who have attained it as follows:

Those who have attained company polish spirits; They are those followed by people. They have three distinguishing marks: Purity of the soul, refinement of the heart, and a polished spirit. They are mirrors to the manifestations of the Divine Names. Whether one prefers privacy or company, the true attainment is servanthood to God, perfectly fulfilling whatever this servanthood requires, and sincere self-exertion to make others know and love Him.

O God! Show us the truth as the truth and enable us to observe it, and show us falsehood as falsehood and enable us to avoid it. And bestow Your blessings and peace upon our master, Muhammad, and on his Family and Companions.

[wisdomrays]

HALWAT and JALWAT (Privacy and Company)

Literally meaning retreating to a place that is quiet and preferring solitude, halwat is used by the Sufis to mean initiates removing themselves from people to dedicate all of their time to worshipping God, and feeling God's constant company in whatever they experience and in whatever state they find themselves in. It also denotes restricting one's powers of sight and hearing to "seeing" and "hearing" only God, confiding in only Him, and devoting oneself exclusively to Him.

What is fundamental for halwat (privacy) is that one should purify one's spirit, cleanse one's soul, and turn one's heart and conscience to God exclusively to attain His constant company. As a result of this degree of turning to God and the attainment of His company, a traveler to the Ultimate Truth is supported with certain Divine gifts and favored with breezes of inspiration. It may even occur that they converse with God beyond all terms of quality and quantity—which is called "mutual whispering" by the Sufis. These are all Divine rewards that come in return for one's sincerity and exertion; therefore, expecting and demanding these is a show of bad manners. Thus, worshipping God and exerting oneself on His way in order to be able to receive such rewards represents deviation from the basic aim of servanthood to God and amounts to losing while on the way to winning. The perfected souls feel alarmed even over the coming of such rewards without expectations or demands, trembling with the fear that they have come to lead themselves to perdition, and they themselves are consuming the everlasting fruits of the afterlife in this fleeting world. Therefore, they supplicate to God, saying:

O God, grant those gifts to those who ask for them;

Please show me only the way to Your vision (in the Hereafter).

In this way they emphasize their utmost devotion to God without expecting anything in return except for His approval of them as His servants and His good pleasure.

All that we have tried to express so far to describe privacy is what the true travelers on the Sufi way have meant by it. However, some Sufi leaders have narrowed its frame and deal with it as being related to retreating to lodges where initiates undergo willful suffering; during this time, an initiate tries to become accustomed to speaking little, eating little, sleeping little, and remaining alone. This point has already been explained under the headings of Halwat and 'Uzlat (Privacy and Seclusion) and Chila (Suffering) in the first and second volumes of this book respectively. The Sufi scholars who approach the matter from this narrow perspective have stressed its universality, mentioning that every religion and every spiritual system gives place to privacy, even if they differ in some secondary matters. They have considered as privacy the Prophet Moses' ten years of residence in Midian and his forty days of stay on Mount Sinai, as well as the Children of Israel's wandering in the Sinai desert for forty years, and the Virgin Mary's retreat which is mentioned in the Qur'anic verse, We made the Son of Mary and his mother a miraculous sign (of Our Lordship and Power), and We provided for them refuge on a lofty ground of comfort and security with a (water) spring (23:50), and, finally, God's Messenger's seclusion in the cave of Hira for the purpose of worship. They attach great importance to privacy in the name of spiritual purification. Even if it could be said that all of the events mentioned above do not provide some substantial religious ground for privacy, the importance of privacy serving the heart cannot be denied. The heart is regarded as the "House of God" and in this way can be purified of various attachments to things other than God, being refined and brightened so that it can receive Divine manifestations.

Privacy is important—not in remaining away from people, but as being a means for a "conversation with the All-Beloved" in the house of the heart. From this perspective, we can consider privacy to be a dimension of the spiritual journeying on the way to God and a step toward attaining His company.

Privacy, which initiates try to accomplish through cycles of forty days of suffering, in fact, serves to enable them to achieve refinement toward the purification of the heart, spirit, consciousness, and feelings so that they can turn back among people (jalwat) in order to guide them.

Privacy is a way essential to Sufism through which initiates can be refined of the carnal dimension of their nature and discover themselves in the depths of their humanity. Through privacy initiates can also clearly perceive the final purpose of their existence and experience God's particular manifestations of His favors on them through the lens of the helplessness, poverty, and the neediness essential to their very nature. Thus, they turn to God with all of their faculties, in the full conviction of His being the sole source of real power, wealth, knowledge, and all accomplishments.

Privacy does not only consist of constant seclusion from people, as one who went to extremes in solitude said:

Brothers, my comfort lies in privacy—

For to whomever I have become a friend,

They publicized my faults and spread my humiliations around.

During my entire life, I have not been able to find one—

One who has been truly faithful.

For this reason, I have found comfort in privacy.

Although privacy is in appearance a retreat from people, in truth it is a process of being equipped with the necessities of guidance in order to live in people's company.

At the beginning of journeying, those who intend such privacy withdraw to a secluded place, for example, remaining in a mosque for the purpose of worship. They eat little, drink little, sleep little, speak little, and are occupied with the remembrance of God. They never abandon reflection or self-supervision. When they have reached the final point of perfection they return among people and set out to serve them as one from among them. They attain non- existence in regards to their carnal existence and egotism and acquire an ever-active existence through the lights of the Divine existence. In the concepts, thoughts, and speeches of one who has reached this point, the self no longer exists; rather the truth and the Ultimate Truth exist. For this reason, such a person may say, "I no longer exist within me; I am no longer conscious of my existence." In his Diwan Kabir, Jalalu'd-Din ar-Rumi describes this feeling of non-existence as follows:

We have been favored with a mystery, a journeying on the way to the Ultimate Truth.

We rejoice in our non- existence. So, come and let us remain in our non- existence.

The doors were closed to us before, but when we were saved from ourselves,

All the doors were opened. Our hearts have been filled with peace and satisfaction

Because we have remained freed from ourselves on this way.

The All-Beautiful Beloved, Who kept

Himself concealed from us,

Has stroked our face in our non- existence.

We have died for His sake and, in turn, He has saved us from ourselves.

Jalwat (company) denotes that initiates are freed from self-centeredness or anything that feeds their egos and—having been equipped with God's qualities or way of acting and being polished mirrors to His Names—dedicate themselves to service in God's cause with whatever they have, caring about the eternal happiness of others during their whole life. Another approach to company is that after initiates are freed from relative values that are peculiar to themselves, they then devote their intellect, logic, reasoning, and tongue to the service of humanity in the light of the lamp of Prophethood.

A person who attained company illuminates some of the features of those who have attained it as follows:

Those who have attained company polish spirits;

They are those followed by people.

They have three distinguishing marks:

Purity of the soul, refinement of the heart, and a polished spirit.

They are mirrors to the manifestations of the Divine Names.

Whether one prefers privacy or company, the true attainment is servanthood to God, perfectly fulfilling whatever this servanthood requires, and sincere self-exertion to make others know and love Him.

O God! Show us the truth as the truth and enable us to observe it, and show us falsehood as falsehood and enable us to avoid it. And bestow Your blessings and peace upon our master, Muhammad, and on his Family and Companions.

[theofficersacademy]

Winter descends upon Fódlan in a blanket of white, from the north of Faerghus all the way to the southern reaches of the Empire. The people of the land have stocked up well for the next few months, and can now retreat into the warmth of home and the embrace of loved ones while they wait for spring.

Each Ethereal Moon, the Officers Academy holds a grand party and a feast fit for a king, known collectively as the Ethereal Ball. This year, however, foul magic is afoot. The hapless victims of the Golden Deer house are now the size of thimbles thanks to some hitherto unseen malefactor, and the curse seems to be spreading as elemental energy around Garreg Mach spikes. The sages of the monastery believe that this is the work of creatures from the deserts of Morfis, and it turns out that all they want are... toys?

Additions to the Mission Board

Golden Deer Mission Board

You’ve been trying to get used to this new, tiny life as best you can while your normal-sized classmates and colleagues try to find a way to reverse the curse. Up until now though you’ve had to go at it alone, making your own weapons and accommodations, but one day while you’re out foraging, you’re engulfed in a bright fire that, strangely, does not burn. Before you can make heads or tails of what exactly is happening, or if your feet are even still on the ground, you’re dropped roughly into a... house? Or rather, a dollhouse, but it can easily accommodate you and several of your allies. Beyond the windows, you can make out more fire, but vaguely there’s a face within the flames. PLAY. It commands you. Sometimes EAT. Other times SLEEP. You don’t know what will happen if you disobey, but there’s a stack of charcoal outside that gives you the creeps.  

Swept away by either a massive wave or a powerful gale on a clear day, you soon find yourself inside a circular arena. One of your allies stands at the far end, outfitted in strange armor and weaponry that clearly was never made for living creatures. Your “benefactor” - water that holds its form in the shape of a person - grants you a selection of accessories and armor as well, all strangely crafted, and leaves you to choose your equipment so that it can instead bicker with its opponent - a stationary tornado. You don’t understand much of what’s happening, but you do know competition when you see it: both the water and the wind elemental aim to prove that their human gladiator is the best. [Grants Heavy Armor or Gauntlets +1]  

Without warning, the earth begins to violently shake and a fissure cracks open wide beneath your feet, swallowing you up before you have the chance to even think about running. When you awaken, you find yourself behind a wall of glass, alongside a dozen statues, rings, miniature objects, and other oddities. The ground before you ripples as if alive, but when a dark cloud full of thunder and lightning rushes toward you, the earth rises up to meet it. They’re elementals from Morfis, you realize at once, and as the one made of earth opens up the glass case to retrieve two of the statues next to you, you understand that this is some sort of shop. Now might be your only chance to plan an escape, because who knows what will happen if you’re bought by one of them. Use what’s lying around you to devise a way to bust out... but don’t get caught. [Grants Lance +1]

Non-Mission Task Board

A baron claiming to hail from the southern lands has arrived at the monastery to offer “Spectacular Sparkly Spirits” to anyone willing to endure a round of his new magicks: festive eruptions of glittering smoke, a perfect fit for festive seasons like this one. Sounds easy, but those who once took the offer before you warn against doing so—they’ve suddenly found their trinkets missing and their newly hunted game gone. Are you willing to risk loss to see a few entrancing eruptions of colored smoke in the shape of boars and rabbits? They’re sure to make you the talk of the ball this year if you can get your hands on them.

Your hoard of crest stones collected from the Sealed Forest beasts grows steadily the more you work, in number and in power. The stones sing a siren song that appeals to some instinctual, animalistic part of yourself. A growing desire to take them, hold them, make them yours. It’s hypothesized that this is the very influence that attracted the animals to the stones in the first place. After a rash of attempted robberies and disappearances, you and another are tasked with guarding the Crest stones through the night. The strange curse upon the stones tempt you, but you must stay strong... [Grants Reason +1]

[polar-jake778]

Sometimes I pity the smart; such pestered souls they are. Fortunately, the life I live may be demanding at times, but at least I can bathe in warm water, and without second thought remove any lingering quarrels.

I suppose my only worry’s encompass the well-being of my husband and innocent child. Both of whom are at the garrison. Oh, here I go again. I try so hard to remain busy, thinking far from possibility, and yet I have circled back into the dread that may be.. My family may be dead. No crown or riches can grant the power to revive those deeply dead.

Every time I hear the bells outside chime, I hear screams, yells and crashes. My mind plays tricks on me by making me think I heard someone I know.

Oh but beautiful birds this day brings unto me. The feathers and all beaming bastions of the expressive art of God.

*Tweet, tweet* I heard as I poured my tea.

Suddenly, interrupting my peaceful yet thought provoking tea, the bedroom door flung open. Sir Bonran. My most pleasant of servants. Sweating and out of breath, he spoke thus.

Lady Ascarthen! You husband, king daibotun, He has fallen to the civil unrest! The people are rising up, the military has deserted us. And your son is nowhere to be seen. We need to get you out of here. The horde is storming through the citadel for you!

My heart began to race, my body shifted from comfort to cold beyond the rage of a blizzard. I see no reason to run. I have lost everything already. What of the irony to pity one’s self.

-

This was a joke.

Caption This!

Caption this! Without context, how would you caption this painting? Reblog to reply.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

1st February >> Mass Readings (Except GB & USA)

For:

Feast of Saint Brigid, Abbess, Secondary Patron of Ireland (Ireland)

And

Saturday, Third Week in Ordinary Time 

And

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Feast of Saint Brigid, Abbess, Secondary Patron of Ireland (Ireland)

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: C(I))

Either:

First Reading Job 31:16-20,24-25,31-32 Have I been insensible to the needs of the poor?

Have I been insensible to poor men’s needs, or let a widow’s eyes grow dim? Or taken my share of bread alone, not giving a share to the orphan? I, whom God has fostered father-like, from childhood, and guided since I left my mother’s womb. Have I ever seen a wretch in need of clothing, or a beggar going naked, without his having cause to bless me from his heart, as he felt the warmth of the fleece from my lambs?

Have I put all my trust in gold, from finest gold sought my security? Have I ever gloated over my great wealth, or the riches that my hands have won?

The people of my tent, did they not say, ‘Is there a man he has not filled with meat’? No stranger ever had to sleep outside, my door was always open to the traveller.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Or:

First Reading Ephesians 3:14-21 A prayer that faithful may know the love of Christ.

This is what I pray, kneeling before the Father, from whom every family, whether spiritual or natural, takes its name: Out of his infinite glory, may he give you the power through his Spirit for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ may live in your hearts through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love, you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth; until, knowing the love of Christ, which is beyond all knowledge, you are filled with the utter fullness of God. Glory be to him whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine; glory be to him from generation to generation in the Church and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. Amen.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 106 (107)

R/ Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; for his love has no end.

The Lord changes desert into streams, thirsty ground into springs of water. There he settles the hungry and they build a city to dwell in.

R/ Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; for his love has no end.

They sow fields and plant their vines; these yield crops for the harvest. He blesses them; they grow in numbers. He does not let their herds decrease.

R/ Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; for his love has no end.

But he raises the needy from distress; makes families numerous as a flock. The upright see it and rejoice but all who do wrong are silenced.

R/ Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; for his love has no end.

Gospel Acclamation 1 John 4:12

Alleluia, alleluia! As long as we love one another, God will live in us and his love will be complete in us. Alleluia!

Gospel Luke 6:32-38 Be compassionate just as your Father is compassionate. Psalm 106 (107):35-38, 41-42. R/. v. 1

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘If you love those who love you, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what thanks can you expect? For even sinners do that much. And if you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners lend to sinners to get back the same amount. Instead, love your enemies and do good, and lend without any hope of return. You will have a great reward, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. ‘Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Do not judge, and you will not be judged yourselves; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned yourselves; grant pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap; because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

----------------------------------

Saturday, Third Week in Ordinary Time 

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: C(I))

First Reading Hebrews 11:1-2,8-19 Abraham looked forward to a city founded, designed and built by God.

Only faith can guarantee the blessings that we hope for, or prove the existence of the realities that at present remain unseen. It was for faith that our ancestors were commended. It was by faith that Abraham obeyed the call to set out for a country that was the inheritance given to him and his descendants, and that he set out without knowing where he was going. By faith he arrived, as a foreigner, in the Promised Land, and lived there as if in a strange country, with Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. They lived there in tents while he looked forward to a city founded, designed and built by God. It was equally by faith that Sarah, in spite of being past the age, was made able to conceive, because she believed that he who had made the promise would be faithful to it. Because of this, there came from one man, and one who was already as good as dead himself, more descendants than could be counted, as many as the stars of heaven or the grains of sand on the seashore. All these died in faith, before receiving any of the things that had been promised, but they saw them in the far distance and welcomed them, recognising that they were only strangers and nomads on earth. People who use such terms about themselves make it quite plain that they are in search of their real homeland. They can hardly have meant the country they came from, since they had the opportunity to go back to it; but in fact they were longing for a better homeland, their heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, since he has founded the city for them. It was by faith that Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac. He offered to sacrifice his only son even though the promises had been made to him and he had been told: It is through Isaac that your name will be carried on. He was confident that God had the power even to raise the dead; and so, figuratively speaking, he was given back Isaac from the dead.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Luke 1:69-75

R/ Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel! He has visited his people and redeemed them.

He has raised up for us a mighty saviour in the house of David his servant, as he promised by the lips of holy men, those who were his prophets from of old.

R/ Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel! He has visited his people and redeemed them.

A saviour who would free us from our foes, from the hands of all who hate us. So his love for our fathers is fulfilled and his holy covenant remembered.

R/ Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel! He has visited his people and redeemed them.

He swore to Abraham our father to grant us that free from fear, and saved from the hands of our foes, we might serve him in holiness and justice all the days of our life in his presence.

R/ Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel! He has visited his people and redeemed them.

Gospel Acclamation cf. Psalm 26:11

Alleluia, alleluia! Instruct me, Lord, in your way; on an even path lead me. Alleluia!

Or: John 3:16

Alleluia, alleluia! God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son: everyone who believes in him has eternal life. Alleluia!

Gospel Mark 4:35-41 'Even the wind and the sea obey him'.

With the coming of evening, Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Let us cross over to the other side.’ And leaving the crowd behind they took him, just as he was, in the boat; and there were other boats with him. Then it began to blow a gale and the waves were breaking into the boat so that it was almost swamped. But he was in the stern, his head on the cushion, asleep. They woke him and said to him, ‘Master, do you not care? We are going down!’ And he woke up and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, ‘Quiet now! Be calm!’ And the wind dropped, and all was calm again. Then he said to them, ‘Why are you so frightened? How is it that you have no faith?’ They were filled with awe and said to one another, ‘Who can this be? Even the wind and the sea obey him.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

-------------------------------------

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary 

(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: C(I))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

Either:

First Reading Genesis 3:9-15,20 The mother of all those who live.

After Adam had eaten of the tree the Lord God called to him. ‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden;’ he replied ‘I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid.’ ‘Who told you that you were naked?’ he asked ‘Have you been eating of the tree I forbade you to eat?’ The man replied, ‘It was the woman you put with me; she gave me the fruit, and I ate it.’ Then the Lord God asked the woman, ‘What is this you have done?’ The woman replied, ‘The serpent tempted me and I ate.’ Then the Lord God said to the serpent, ‘Because you have done this,

‘Be accursed beyond all cattle, all wild beasts. You shall crawl on your belly and eat dust every day of your life. I will make you enemies of each other: you and the woman, your offspring and her offspring. It will crush your head and you will strike its heel.’

The man named his wife ‘Eve’ because she was the mother of all those who live.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

OR: --------

First reading Genesis 12:1-7 All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you

The Lord said to Abram, ‘Leave your country, your family and your father’s house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing.

‘I will bless those who bless you: I will curse those who slight you. All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you.’

So Abram went as the Lord told him, and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he left Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, all the possessions they had amassed and the people they had acquired in Haran. They set off for the land of Canaan, and arrived there. Abram passed through the land as far as Shechem’s holy place, the Oak of Moreh. At that time the Canaanites were in the land. The Lord appeared to Abram and said, ‘It is to your descendants that I will give this land.’ So Abram built there an altar for the Lord who had appeared to him.

OR: --------

First reading 2 Samuel 7:1-5,8-11,16 The Lord will make you great; the Lord will make you a House

Once David had settled into his house and the Lord had given him rest from all the enemies surrounding him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, ‘Look, I am living in a house of cedar while the ark of God dwells in a tent.’ Nathan said to the king, ‘Go and do all that is in your mind, for the Lord is with you.’ But that very night the word of the Lord came to Nathan: ‘Go and tell my servant David, “Thus the Lord speaks: Are you the man to build me a house to dwell in? I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, to be leader of my people Israel; I have been with you on all your expeditions; I have cut off all your enemies before you. I will give you fame as great as the fame of the greatest on earth. I will provide a place for my people Israel; I will plant them there and they shall dwell in that place and never be disturbed again; nor shall the wicked continue to oppress them as they did, in the days when I appointed judges over my people Israel; I will give them rest from all their enemies. The Lord will make you great; the Lord will make you a House. Your House and your sovereignty will always stand secure before me and your throne be established for ever.”’

OR: --------

First reading 1 Chronicles 15:3-4,15-16,16:1-2 They brought in the ark of God and put it inside the tent that David had pitched for it

David gathered all Israel together to bring the ark of God up to the place he had prepared for it. David called together the sons of Aaron and the sons of Levi. And the Levites carried the ark of God with the shafts on their shoulders, as Moses had ordered in accordance with the word of the Lord. David then told the heads of the Levites to assign duties for their kinsmen as cantors, with their various instruments of music, harps and lyres and cymbals, to play joyful tunes. They brought the ark of God in and put it inside the tent that David had pitched for it; and they offered holocausts before God, and communion sacrifices. And when David had finished offering holocausts and communion sacrifices, he blessed the people in the name of the Lord.

OR: --------

First reading Proverbs 8:22-31 Before the earth came into being, Wisdom was born

The Wisdom of God cries aloud:

The Lord created me when his purpose first unfolded, before the oldest of his works. From everlasting I was firmly set, from the beginning, before earth came into being. The deep was not, when I was born, there were no springs to gush with water. Before the mountains were settled, before the hills, I came to birth; before he made the earth, the countryside, or the first grains of the world’s dust. When he fixed the heavens firm, I was there, when he drew a ring on the surface of the deep, when he thickened the clouds above, when he fixed fast the springs of the deep, when he assigned the sea its boundaries – and the waters will not invade the shore – when he laid down the foundations of the earth, I was by his side, a master craftsman, delighting him day after day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere in his world, delighting to be with the sons of men.

OR: --------

First reading Ecclesiasticus 24:1-4,8-12,18-21 From eternity, in the beginning, God created wisdom

Wisdom speaks her own praises, in the midst of her people she glories in herself. She opens her mouth in the assembly of the Most High, she glories in herself in the presence of the Mighty One: ‘I came forth from the mouth of the Most High, and I covered the earth like a mist. I had my tent in the heights, and my throne in a pillar of cloud. Then the creator of all things instructed me, and he who created me fixed a place for my tent. He said, “Pitch your tent in Jacob, make Israel your inheritance.” From eternity, in the beginning, he created me, and for eternity I shall remain. I ministered before him in the holy tabernacle, and thus was I established on Zion. In the beloved city he has given me rest, and in Jerusalem I wield my authority. I have taken root in a privileged people, in the Lord’s property, in his inheritance. Approach me, you who desire me, and take your fill of my fruits, for memories of me are sweeter than honey, inheriting me is sweeter than the honeycomb. They who eat me will hunger for more, they who drink me will thirst for more. Whoever listens to me will never have to blush, whoever acts as I dictate will never sin.’

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 7:10-14,8:10 The maiden is with child

The Lord spoke to Ahaz and said, ‘Ask the Lord your God for a sign for yourself coming either from the depths of Sheol or from the heights above.’ ‘No,’ Ahaz answered ‘I will not put the Lord to the test.’ Then Isaiah said:

‘Listen now, House of David: are you not satisfied with trying the patience of men without trying the patience of my God, too? The Lord himself, therefore, will give you a sign. It is this: the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Immanuel, a name which means “God-is-with-us.”’

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 9:1-6 A Son is given to us

The people that walked in darkness has seen a great light; on those who live in a land of deep shadow a light has shone. You have made their gladness greater, you have made their joy increase; they rejoice in your presence as men rejoice at harvest time, as men are happy when they are dividing the spoils.

For the yoke that was weighing on him, the bar across his shoulders, the rod of his oppressor, these you break as on the day of Midian.

For all the footgear of battle, every cloak rolled in blood, is burnt, and consumed by fire.

For there is a child born for us, a son given to us and dominion is laid on his shoulders; and this is the name they give him: Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace.

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 61:9-11 I exult for joy in the Lord

Their race will be famous throughout the nations, their descendants throughout the peoples. All who see them will admit that they are a race whom the Lord has blessed.

‘I exult for joy in the Lord, my soul rejoices in my God, for he has clothed me in the garments of salvation, he has wrapped me in the cloak of integrity, like a bridegroom wearing his wreath, like a bride adorned in her jewels.

‘For as the earth makes fresh things grow, as a garden makes seeds spring up, so will the Lord make both integrity and praise spring up in the sight of the nations.’

OR: --------

First reading Micah 5:1-4 He will stand and feed his flock with the power of the Lord

The Lord says this:

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, the least of the clans of Judah, out of you will be born for me the one who is to rule over Israel; his origin goes back to the distant past, to the days of old. The Lord is therefore going to abandon them till the time when she who is to give birth gives birth. Then the remnant of his brothers will come back to the sons of Israel. He will stand and feed his flock with the power of the Lord, with the majesty of the name of his God. They will live secure, for from then on he will extend his power to the ends of the land. He himself will be peace.

OR: --------

First reading Zechariah 2:14-17 'I am coming', says the Lord

Sing, rejoice, daughter of Zion; for I am coming to dwell in the middle of you – it is the Lord who speaks. Many nations will join the Lord, on that day; they will become his people. But he will remain among you, and you will know that the Lord of Hosts has sent me to you. But the Lord will hold Judah as his portion in the Holy Land, and again make Jerusalem his very own. Let all mankind be silent before the Lord! For he is awaking and is coming from his holy dwelling.

Responsorial Psalm 1 Samuel 2:1,4-8

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

My heart exults in the Lord. I find my strength in my God; my mouth laughs at my enemies as I rejoice in your saving help.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

The bows of the mighty are broken, but the weak are clothed with strength. Those with plenty must labour for bread, but the hungry need work no more. The childless wife has children now but the fruitful wife bears no more.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

It is the Lord who gives life and death, he brings men to the grave and back; it is the Lord who gives poverty and riches. He brings men low and raises them on high.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

He lifts up the lowly from the dust, from the dungheap he raises the poor to set him in the company of princes to give him a glorious throne. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, on them he has set the world.

R/ My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

Gospel Acclamation cf. Luke 1:28

Alleluia, alleluia! Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee! Blessed art thou among women. Alleluia!

Or: cf.Lk1:45

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled. Alleluia!

Or: cf.Lk2:19

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who treasured the word of God and pondered it in her heart. Alleluia!

Or: Lk11:28

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy are those who hear the word of God and keep it. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, holy Virgin Mary, and most worthy of all praise, for the sun of justice, Christ our God, was born of you. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy is the Virgin Mary, who, without dying, won the palm of martyrdom beneath the cross of the Lord. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 1:1-16,18-23 The ancestry and conception of Jesus Christ.

A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham:

Abraham was the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah, Tamar being their mother, Perez was the father of Hezron, Hezron the father of Ram, Ram was the father of Amminadab, Amminadab the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon, Salmon was the father of Boaz, Rahab being his mother, Boaz was the father of Obed, Ruth being his mother, Obed was the father of Jesse; and Jesse was the father of King David.

David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife, Solomon was the father of Rehoboam, Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asa, Asa was the father of Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, Joram the father of Azariah, Azariah was the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, Ahaz the father of Hezekiah, Hezekiah was the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amon, Amon the father of Josiah; and Josiah was the father of Jechoniah and his brothers. Then the deportation to Babylon took place.

After the deportation to Babylon: Jechoniah was the father of Shealtiel, Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel, Zerubbabel was the father of Abiud, Abiud the father of Eliakim, Eliakim the father of Azor, Azor was the father of Zadok, Zadok the father of Achim, Achim the father of Eliud, Eliud was the father of Eleazar, Eleazar the father of Matthan, Matthan the father of Jacob; and Jacob was the father of Joseph the husband of Mary; of her was born Jesus who is called Christ.

This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to live together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph; being a man of honour and wanting to spare her publicity, decided to divorce her informally. He had made up his mind to do this when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfil the words spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.