#high priestesses of the old religion

[twistedshipper]

high priestesses + fire

#bbc merlin #merlinedit #merlingifs #merlin gifs #tvedit #female characters #morgana pendragon #morgause #nimueh #bbc morgana #merlin #twistedshipper #merlinladies #high priestesses of the old religion

[arthurslesbian]

the dochraid telling merlin that he is no friend of the old religion, but he isn't, is he

#s5e9 rewatch #ash watches merlin again #how many magical creatures is he responsible for killing?? #he even killed?? the dochraid when he could've left after defending himself #but he couldn't since they would help morgana #who ofc conspires to kill arthur #indeed why does he weild excalibur #when he promised kilgarrah that only arthur would? #and uses it to kill the dochraid #and then later of course morgana #as much as morgana can be called evil for the deaths she's caused among the camelot civilians #she is still the last high priestess of the old religion #sigh

[pit-of-maggots]

.:_ ꪱׁׅᥣׁׅ֪ ᝯׁɑׁׅ֮ꭈׁׅꪀׁׅꫀׁׅܻ᥎꫶ׁׅɑׁׅ֮ᥣׁׅ֪ꫀׁׅܻ ժׁׅ݊ꪱׁׅ ᥎꫶ׁׅꫀׁׅܻꪀׁׅꫀׁׅܻzׁׅ֬ꪱׁׅɑׁׅ֮ _:.

' Ballo di Carnevale. '

Pierre Bergaigne (1652)

"Che pagliacci... mi chiedo se a Spagna é anche cosí.. disonorevole."

( ' what clowns... I wonder if in Spain it is also so.. disgraceful. ' )

The High Priestess of the Sons of Gluttony cult was repulsed and unamused by what the city of Venezia, the popular 'Floating City' or 'City of Canals', displayed in front of her.

Masked individuals, some fancier, more regal, than others- coated the streets. And they weren't even at the heart of the event yet, they'd just gotten off the train.

The High Priest, on the other hand... was seeing stars. He was absolutely fascinated by such beauty surrounding him.

"Hai perso la ragione, Beatrice?! Quest' evento é il piú lussuoso che possa esistere nel nostro paese! L'unico che realmente merita la mia attenzione... "

( ' have you lost your mind, Beatrice?! This event's the most luxurious one that's existed in our country! The only one that truly deserves my attention... ' ) He trailed off as he turned to look at his companions. The four heads of the Gluttony cults had all reunited for quite the big event: Concetto Faunus's birthday, the beloved broodfather, the High Priest of the Sons of Gluttony. And he'd always loved the Carnival at Venice... always so refined, fashionable, so... him.

"Especially... on such an important date~ is that not right?" The man retorted with a noticeable facade of sweetness, when he really just felt bitter that the woman seemed to have something to complain about every single time.

Beata grumbled quietly, seemingly admitting defeat that, if she had nothing nice to say, then she should keep her mouth shut. Besides, today Concetto got to make the rules, it was his day.

Concetto proudly smiled, chuckling in response to her silence. "Very well~ and try to turn that frown upside down, will you? For little old meee?" He teased.

Before the woman could scold her companion, Elizabeth's furious screams could be heard from a distance as she was damn near about to throw a punch into some poor guide's gut before Adam restrained her-

The unfortunate soul that dared arouse her wrath tried to calm her down, already sweating profusely, "Signora, p-per favo-" buuut of course he was cut off.

"CHÉ VUOL' DÍ CHE LA FESTA DE' MARIE É GIÁ FINITA!? FISA!"

Beata sighed, unamused as she went to intervene while Domenico watched in silence as he hid behind their High Priest; Faunus quietly muttered some prayers in the name of Lurcher Barathrum as he too watched, holding his stomach.

( ' WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT THE FESTA DELLE MARIE HAS ALREADY FINISHED? CUNT! ' ) She seemed absolutely furious to find out that the Festa Delle Marie, a re-enactment of the traditional Venetian beauty contest where twelve gorgeous women would dress in the finest Venetian fashion to present themselves to the Duke of Venice, the Doge. Unfortunately, this parade only takes place during February 3rd... and during that date uh- well, let's just say that Eve had been busy with 'fae business' that may or may not have involved murder, otherwise she would have come here long before Faunus' birthday...

" ( ' forgive her ' ), la perdoni, Sr.; the trip has been quite the headache for all of us." Beata excused as she stared daggers at Eve, before shoving the little woman and her husband far away from the shivering man and attempted to de-escalate the situation as she comforted the individual while Adam practically dragged his wife away, trying to comfort her too- eventually, she stopped trying to fight him and just went limp with a frustrated sigh, allowing to be dragged around like a ragdoll. Sure, they loved drawing attention at events, but not in this way, damn it! Should they embarass the High Priest on his birthday, both cults would never hear the end of it from him nor Barathrum for such blasphemy. But Elizabeth had a bad habit of being impulsive and not thinking before speaking, so... Beatrice had to come clean the mess for her before it got worse. (When she was around to do so, of course)

...

"And I even wore my best dress!" Eve whined in exasperation to her beloved spouse while she ranted, looking down at her clothes: she wore her best pink bouffant gown with butterfly wing patterns all over it, a cream colored poet's shirt underneath, and a matching bandeau pink veil, decorated with red roses. She also wore a customized Colombina mask of a cream coloring pallette too, adorned with gems. The hairnets that held up her hair, giving them that classic horn-like shape, were of a dark green pallette.

"Amore, you can still show off your beauty!" Said Adam, kneeling down to be at an eye level with his wife, gently lifting her mask. "and the mask contest's still going, if you would like us to participate in it~"

Adam too wore a mask, a Pulcinella, to match Eve's; he wore a classic nobility outfit: a dark green coat with matching pants, yellow waistcoat with a white cotton shirt with decorative cuffs underneath, a pink cravat with red patterns.

Eve looked down to the ground a moment, inhaling and exhaling deeply before looking back to Adam.

"Maybe..." she replied, still sounding somewhat disappointed and sad. "Yeah..."

"Would you like to go eat som-"

"YES! OHHH YES!" And just like that, her mood immediately shifted upon merely hearing the word 'eat' leave her husband's lips. And it was like the entire ordeal never happened in the first place. But before they could run off to the nearest place that made any food- two dark, thick tentacles wrapped around their waists, and they got pulled towards the remaining group by Beata.

"You uncivilized animals." She spat as the dark appendages quickly retreated into her form, disappearing into the darkness of her robe.

Both her and Faunus were glaring at the married couple like a disappointed parent after catching their child with their hands in the cookie jar. Domenico on the other hand... seemed to be in another universe entirely, as they rested their head against their preacher's side, eyes closed, and currently stroking his belly lovingly. Still... this did not deter Faunus in the slightest from scolding the other two Priests, nor did he seem to mind really.

"Have you completely forgotten we must be present at the Pit of the Beast in less than an hour? Beatrice's children and most of our flocks are going to be there to attend their last sermon before our days of feasting in my celebration." He aggressively whispered to them, as to not draw attention from heretics on the matter.

The Pit of the Beast ('La Fossa della Bestia') was an abandoned church, lost in time like so many other buildings in Venice. Many cults of dæmonic faith claimed it for their own long ago, renamed in Shai's honor- leader of the celestial rebellion, mainly to arrange important meetings or re-schedule sermons; the Gluttony cults were one of them. It was where Bishop Angelo Maria-Antonietta, one of Beata's twin children, often did his sermons to the local Venetian Gluttony members or initiated new members.

"N-no, Signor Faunus!" Adam stuttered. Eve stepping in front of him to speak her mind: "Of course we did not! It was the heat of th' moment, th's all! T'was.. my fault..." She reluctantly admitted, pouting and looking down to the floor, clutching a clawed hand around her husband's waist. She sighed.

"O Chosen One, forgive us..."

That little ego stroke for the High Priest seemed to get both of them on his good side again rather quickly; his expression softening up as he inhaled deeply, taking his time to revel in being called one of his favourite nicknames. Beata, on the other hand... was unphased, knowing how easily it was to get the man to forgive even the sheer blasphemy of public embarassment they nearly put him through, with just a few words that appealed to his selfishness. If looks could kill, both Eve and Adam would've been impaled multiple times by her intense gaze.

"You are forgiven." Faunus eventually declared with an eyeroll, "but let this be the last time it happens, vi avverto." ( ' I warn you. ' )

Beata remained quiet as she continued glaring at the both of them as they quickly nodded their heads.

"Very well, Domenico- pay attention." He ordered as he gently held the younger man's hands and pulled him off of him.

"We'll be going to the Pit, do what we must do, and then we shall finally begin our commemoration, si? No more time to waste in foolishness."

...

Their trip would last until the end of February, during this time... Lisa and her band were paid to look after the Faunettes at the mansion, sometimes being visited by Beelzebub himself (he wished to meet what were essentially his grandchildren!). However... Lisa & co. do not exactly like to play by the rules, and it's not like Faunus or his butlers would know... if there was someone else, a 'friend of theirs' willingly looking after them; playing music is their passion, they love to sneak out to do some casual live-show in town... if they have someone else look after the Faunettes (potentially, your muse).

Meanwhile, Faunus & co. are going to be in Venice, many of the cult members lurking around, as well as... some other familiar faces. The Priests only want to have fun, drink, dance, eat and perhaps cause mischief... or get intimate with any pretty individual that tries courting them. (You may have your muse join in the fun with any of the Priests OR the one cult member often glued at Faunus' side, Domenico! Stuff them with food or vice versa, have a gothic, fancy masquerade dance together! Or you could disrupt the party somehow... and arouse the attention of a CERTAIN monster hunter keeping watch over these foul creatures~)

But... be careful, should you choose to try to court Adam or Eve! They will not say that they are married, and instead will play the game lying that they are single, pretend they show interest in you... until (you think) you are alone with just one of them, but in the end, it might just result in your demise. (Eve will devour your muse; you can survive if you manage to entertain her).

#happy birthday old man #!!!! #ravenous high priest ( faunus ) #eldritch high priestess ( beata maria ) #vicious fairy priestess ( eve ) #fae academic priest ( adam ) #event: il carnevale di venezia #pregnancy tw #vore tw #stuffing tw #religion tw #ALSO Eve swears in faroese. #just wantes to clarify since you'll be seeing a lot of italian here and there given that all muses except for eve are italian

[merlinemrys]

it always gets to me how powerful merlin is because if nimueh, one of the last high priestesses of the old religion, has to say a spell aloud to just unlock a door while merlin in the first five minutes just stops TIME for funsies then it's honestly a miracle that the whole of camelot doesn't just blow up if merlin sneezes too hard

#shows #bbc merlin #merlin s1 #merlin 1x04 #merlin #nimueh #bamf merlin #text #tais toi lys #lys lb: merlin #*

[skaldish]

People who say Loki isn't real because there's no evidence he was worshiped are really annoying. How do I rebuttal?

By understanding this is not a proper argument to begin with.

This argument in its entirety typically goes something like this:

Loki isn't a god because he wasn't worshipped in ancient times. If he was, he would have had locations named after him (place-names), people carrying his namesake, and the presence of a cult following. Since Loki wasn't a god in pre-Christian Norse society, it would be inappropriate to consider him one now.

The origins of this argument are Asatru Folk Assembly. The full argument made by Stephen McNallen goes like this:

There was no devotion given to Loki in ancient times. No place-names marked ritual sites for him; no human bore names related to him; there were no priests or priestesses of Loki. Some modern practitioners of Asatru have apparently considered this an oversight, and one occasionally hears toasts to Loki at Asatru gatherings today. However, I strongly discourage this in the Asatru Folk assembly, and I do not permit horns to be raised to him in my presence. My experience is that Loki-toasts are followed by discord all-around bad luck.

Believe it or not, this is not a valid argument.

Logical argumentation is a kind of math, and an argument will always be invalid if it follows an invalid formula, no matter how true its predicates are.

Here's an example:

Some people are pagans, and some pagans are white nationalists. Therefore, some people are white nationalists.

This is an invalid argument because it follows an invalid formula. We can see this by reframing it:

Some people are herbivores, and some herbivores are deer. Therefore, some people are deer.

The "Loki wasn't worshipped" argument is riddled with these kinds of flaws, and not just ones that follow this particular formula. There's also issues of rocky facts, unfair standards, and general argumentative fallacies:

Heimdallr also doesn't have place-names, and is considered a god.

The absence of developed, structured cultus is not the litmus test of "worship" within the context of Old Norse religions.

The argument is predicated on the idea that the Old Norse people conceptualized "gods" the same way that the Greeks and the Romans did, in that this term applies only to high beings with widespread followings.

Same applies to how the Old Norse people conceptualized "worship." We have no idea how they defined it.

The argument's evidence does not consider all possible data, i.e. attestations found in extant Scandinavian oral traditions.

I can go on, but basically the argument is predicated on assuming the Old Norse people did polytheism according to what we think polytheism should look like.

But honestly? All of this actually doesn't matter, because the ultimate goal of this argument isn't to win the debate of whether Loki's a god or not.

It's to get people to associate "Loki's followers" with "degenerate behavior."

By painting Loki-worship as both factually incorrect AND superstitiously unlucky, it implies that anyone worshipping Loki is not right in the head somehow; that the can't think or reason correctly.

Many of Loki's followers correlate with the political and social Left. They're often queer/gnc and/or neurodivergent, and support socialist policies and rejection tradition. If worshiping Loki is deemed irrational and dangerous, then it stands to reason that these things are also irrational and dangerous, and therefore all of this must be a sign of degeneracy. Or so the argument would suggest.

The fallacies in the argument are there by design, because that is how cryptofascist writers radicalize reasonable people.

The best way you refute these arguments is to deny them a platform. Delete them from your inbox. That doesn't mean you have to ignore them though. You can always speak up about them on your own time. Personally, I try to make sure that whatever it is I bring up about them will be useful to the community at large, as opposed to being an angry hate-letter to those provoking conflict. (It's a philosophy I use regardless of what the motivations of an issue are, simply because devoting my attention to the community makes for a better online experience and is ultimately more effective in the long-run.)

#answered #lokean #norse paganism #lokideity #heathenry

[justaz]

god!merlin

druids can NOT speak in people’s minds. when they are before a high priestess, they can pray to her directly and she can hear them (hence the scene between morgana and mordred when he spoke in her mind).

merlin who constantly has this buzzing in the back of his head that he can never understand besides the occasional odd word which makes no sense. but when he’s closer to a druid or when their prayer is super strong, then he can make out what they’re saying.

merlin who brings up the fact that druids can speak into peoples minds to gaius who casually unfurls a scroll containing his ongoing list of reasons why merlin is/evidence of merlin being a god of the old religion.

#merlin just can’t remember bc he was born into a mortal body and his mortal brain couldn’t begin to comprehend #what it’s like to exist as a god #so he forgot #but every time he dies and comes back - or even casts a spell - a bit more of his mortality burns away #merlin emrys #emrys the god of life death and magic #(real) #high priestess morgana #god!merlin #bbc merlin #morgana pendragon #after arthur repeals the ban and a bunch of druids come to camelot to work out all the messy business #the druids gather before a hearth and make an offering to emrys who is literally in the same castle as them #their prayer is so strong and so close that the buzz in the back of merlin’s head turns into very clear screaming #gaius adds one more item to his list #eventually he’ll reclaim his status as a god but he’ll still stay by arthur’s side until the end of his life #and then - as a god - he’ll take arthur’s soul (and all his friends souls) and carry them into the realm of the gods #and they’ll all live there for eternity together bc i like happy endings #(+ now arthur gets to stand at merlin’s side as merlin leads his people (the gods))

[emrys-merlin]

Ok but Nimueh is THE high priestess of the series.

She was the only priestess who truly seemed to actually care about what the Old Religion had to say. She wasn't a good person but never acted like a "psychopath". She never underestimate Merlin.

This character is so interesting that I'm not convinced she would fully support Morgana and Morgause. Yeah she would have joined them, but I don't think she would have "obsessively" tried to kill Merlin and Arthur. They are her enemies, yes, she tried to kill them, but she didn't truly want them dead. And that would be a problem for Morgana/Morgause.

Nimueh knows about the prophecies. She knows about Merlin and Arthur's destiny. She literally wanted to put Arthur on the throne by herself and she kept dancing around Merlin's because she had sussed who he was and wanted the opportunity to recruit him.

The way she kept dancing around Merlin's request to take his life, and how she said numerous times that she had no control over who lived or died but it seemed to make sure it avoided Merlin and when Gaius requested his life suddenly it was very accurate Imao. She knew what she was doing.

It would be so cool to see a villain also try to fulfill the prophecy but in their own twisted way.

She shouldn't have died!

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #nimueh #arthur pendragon #morgana #the wasted potential of this character #she was amazing #she should've been the current vilain with Morgana #i'm not even sure that she would have revealed Emrys' identity to Morgana lol #also Arthur was born thanks to her

[pixeljade]

Imagine if you were an insanely popular soccer player. Like HUGE, and your dad was a bigger one! He kinda sucked, though, but now the spotlight's on you. And then one day at the championship game, suddenly, a weird fucked up flying whale monster comes and starts killing everyone. And while you're running from it, you come across your dad's old friend, who throws you a weapon and tells you to fight. Then after you fight a bit he just up and feeds you to the whale...when you wake up, you're in some other fucking world. It makes no sense, they dont even really do technology except for sports, and they KNOW about this fucked up whale! They have a whole religion about it. They also know about your home, but they claim it was destroyed ages ago and is now turned into the goddamn holy land. And guess what, their prayer is EXACTLY like the team victory cheer you knew back home. You follow a priestess of this religion and her posse of freaks including a goth girl, her inexplicable jock boyfriend, a fursona, and go across the landscape seeking passage back to your own world. Eventually you run into your dad's friend when a race war results in a kidnapping at this world's championship game, and he joins your pilgrimage and eventually reveals that the fucked up whale actually IS your dad! Also you meet this huge asshole high priest politician guy, who wants to bang the priestess even tho you already got the hots for her! He sucks, and you continue on, and meet the girl who did the kidnapping of your potential girlfriend, and she helped save you once, so you vouch for her. Then you make it to the asshole's home, which happens to have a portal to the fucking afterlife for some reason. That night you find out both that the asshole killed his dad, and intends to kill your priestess girlfriend if she wont bang him. So you're like fuck that, we'll all fuck you up TOGETHER!!! And kick his ass! And then leave and continue the pilgrimage. You find yourself suddenly on the other side of the race war after realizing they were actually the good guys, and rebel against the world's theocratic regime, only to find out the people leading it are a bunch of GHOSTS! And then you attack them and a fucked up ghost dragon underwater for some reason. Whatever its just there. Anyways, then you go back up to the surface for the last leg of the pilgrimage. The furry ends up taking you through his village, and fights his friends with you. Then you end up coming across the asshole AGAIN, but hes a ghost and has fucked up ghost powers!! You kill him again, and finally end up at the holy land that they claimed was where your home was...and its a bunch of ruins and this huge magic mainframe of ghosts. It turnd out you were one of the ghosts stored on it. And that mainframe, it exists because the city the theocracy lives in blew up your city but your people managed to store up the ghosts of everyone and make a backup before they died! Their attack created the first ever Fucked-Up Whale. BUT the whale is so incredibly fucked up he can ENTER the mainframe and take people out of it! Your dad got out of it that way, and then he did the pilgrimage too, defeated HIS whale, and became one because for some reason thats just how it works. And his friend is a ghost too, but just a regular one, and he went into the mainframe using him in order to pull YOU out into the world outside! So now you're like fuck this, fuck you, and you kill the whale, and the asshole one last time, and even the goddess herself! Because fuck it, why not!!! And you were just a fucking soccer player, but now you've killed god!

Anyways Final Fantasy X is wild

#ffx #final fantasy x #final fantasy

[laurellerual]

in agot arya mentions becoming a high Septon in *that* line, its been a while since I read the books so I don't remember a lot but do you think arya will end up having a big role in any faith (the seven or the old gods)? i can't remember if she thought about religion a lot or not

High septon Arya with some cool high priestess tarot symbolism

Good question. Arya is the only main character to be part of a religious order, and is not clearly falling into the 'chosen one' category. I expect that all the religions and respective magics that she has encountered will play a fundamental role in her future.

I don't see Arya in a role like the High Septon because I don't think she recognizes the Seven as her own gods. I would say that Arya believes in the Old Gods and the Many-Faced God, and that she recognizes the power of R'hllor.

I think that in the future Arya could find herself in the position of 'collaborator/lay member' of the FM order, perhaps fulfilling a similar role as Brusco and Izembaro, but it is only speculation.

Some random thoughts on religion in Arya's storyline not a meta:

Religions are a fairly recurring topic in her chapters, she is probably the character who has encountered most faiths, but her relationship with them is particular. She seems to be quite curious about religion, especially now that she's in Braavos and surrounded by the strangest temples.

One time, the girl remembered, the Sailor's Wife had walked her rounds with her and told her tales of the city's stranger gods. "That is the house of the Great Shepherd. Three-headed Trios has that tower with three turrets. The first head devours the dying, and the reborn emerge from the third. I don't know what the middle head's supposed to do. Those are the Stones of the Silent God, and there the entrance to the Patternmaker's Maze. Only those who learn to walk it properly will ever find their way to wisdom, the priests of the Pattern say. Beyond it, by the canal, that's the temple of Aquan the Red Bull. Every thirteenth day, his priests slit the throat of a pure white calf, and offer bowls of blood to beggars."

We know that she was raised in a mixed faith family. But while there is a septa to take care of her education I don't think the Stark children were born in the light of the Seven.

Arya never seems to refer to the religion of the Seven as her own. She defines the seven as "the southron god, the one with seven faces". She also never pray to them and she doesn't uses many common language expressions concerning them. But she often notices symbols or expressions related to the Seven that are used by the people around her. For example, in contrast, it's funny how often the Hound says "seven hells" or how often she hears "Mother have mercy".

But this religion can be useful to better understand the character from a thematic point of view, especially in her relationship with her mother. For example, it is interesting to see how Cat, for a moment, sees Arya in the warrior. Or how Arya could end up filling the role of Mercy for Merciless Mother.

This passage where Cat describes the Old gods as faceless particularly interesting in light of Arya's future, but also in light of Cat's future. In fact Lady Stoneheart's face ironically resembles the face of a weirwood.

Catelyn had been anointed with the seven oils and named in the rainbow of light that filled the sept of Riverrun. She was of the Faith, like her father and grandfather and his father of her before him. Her gods had names, and their faces were as familiar as the faces of her parents. Worship was a septon with a censer, the smell of incense, a seven-sided crystal alive with light, voices raised in song. The Tullys kept a godswood, as all the great houses did, but it was only a place to walk or read or lie in the sun. Worship was for the sept. For her sake, Ned had built a small sept where she might sing to the seven faces of god, but the blood of the First Men still flowed in the veins of the Starks, and his own gods were the old ones, the nameless, faceless gods of the greenwood they shared with the vanished children of the forest.

The Old gods have a much more obvious importance for Arya. This is the religion she prays to and the one she is immersed from narrative. Arya sees and crosses some of the most important places of this faith: High heart and the God's eye. The scene in the godswood of Harrenhal is fundamentally related to the theme of identity. I talked more about this here.

But the Old gods haven't an organized faith so I don't think it works to think of it as analogous to the faith of the Seven. I mean that there are no 'roles' to fill here. Bran's storyline could tell us more about this.

When Arya arrives in Braavos she sees a Sept, but she never goes there. Her thoughts go to the fact that this is a city without trees instead.

I think we need to keep an eye on the Many-Faced God and the Old gods because they're the deities that have the most thematic relevance in Arya's story right now. Somehow they represent the crossroads at which she is.

They are not my Seven. They were my mother's gods, and they let the Freys murder her at the Twins. She wondered whether she would find a godswood in Braavos, with a weirwood at its heart. Denyo might know, but she couldn't ask him. Salty was from Saltpans, and what would a girl from Saltpans know about the old gods of the north? The old gods are dead, she told herself, with Mother and Father and Robb and Bran and Rickon, all dead. A long time ago, she remembered her father saying that when the cold winds blow the lone wolf dies and the pack survives. He had it all backwards. Arya, the lone wolf, still lived, but the wolves of the pack had been taken and slain and skinned.

Perhaps when winter comes we will discover that this crossroads is not as marked as it might seem. I'm not the first person here to discuss how similar in their description Bloodraven's Cave and House of Black and White are. In particular there is a visual and thematic parallel in the use of weirwood, in the appearance of Bloodraven and the kindly man and in the type of meat that is served to Arya and Bran.

We must also take into consideration the religion of R'hllor which will become increasingly important in twow. Arya has encountered this before and is familiar with its power to resurrect the dead this way. This will certainly affect her opinion of Lady Stoneheart and Jon Snow. Also we've seen Melisandre's glamors and we know these are listed by the kindly man as one of the methods Arya will need to learn. Even the concept of blood magic seems somewhat akin to the methods of the FMs.

Another religion to keep an eye on for the future is that of the Moonsingers because, as was discussed around here a few days ago, we could see Arya frequent their temple. They are as old as the FM, among the founders of Braavos and seem to deal respectively with life and death.

"The Isle of the Gods is farther on. See? Six bridges down, on the right bank. That is the Temple of the Moonsingers." It was one of those that Arya had spied from the lagoon, a mighty mass of snow-white marble topped by a huge silvered dome whose milk glass windows showed all the phases of the moon. A pair of marble maidens flanked its gates, tall as the Sealords, supporting a crescent-shaped lintel.

This could become relevant in the next book when Arya gets her moonblood.

"It may be that the Many-Faced God has led you here to be His instrument, but when I look at you I see a child . . . and worse, a girl child. Many have served Him of Many Faces through the centuries, but only a few of His servants have been women. Women bring life into the world. We bring the gift of death. No one can do both."

Furthermore, the fact that Moonsinger and Wolf are practically synonymous is certainly... a choice.

"Snow," the moon murmured. The wolf made no answer. Snow crunched beneath his paws. The wind sighed through the trees. Far off, he could hear his packmates calling to him, like to like. They were hunting too. A wild rain lashed down upon his black brother as he tore at the flesh of an enormous goat, washing the blood from his side where the goat's long horn had raked him. In another place, his little sister lifted her head to sing to the moon, and a hundred small gray cousins broke off their hunt to sing with her. The hills were warmer where they were, and full of food. Many a night his sister's pack of him gorged on the flesh of sheep and cows and horses, the prey of men, and sometimes even on the flesh of man himself.

#asoiaf #arya stark #house stark #the old gods #the seven gods #the facelessmen #braavos

[gayerthanevertbh]

say your prayers - one.

pairings | dark!priestess!natasha romanoff x reader

– summary: your school have church service once every week. of course, as a good little schoolgirl you are, you attend to it. which means you always have to see your priestess, natasha, who you are secretly infatuated with. until there was an unexpected turn that made you feel something else other than good. but maybe, even better.  

– warnings: smut/dark taboo themes - 18+ YOU’VE BEEN WARNED! non-con/dub-con, religious themes, sacrilegious acts, blasphemy of religion, biblical references, rough sex, loss of virginity, dark!natasha, oral sex (r receiving), Mother kink, heavily detailed smut, natasha being a creep, and more.

– notes: this was so well written i’m actually kind of happy about this chapter. there will be more in the future, for now this. enjoy! <3

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I attend the chapel every week. The school requires you to, so I don’t really have a choice. Usually, my choices are: to drop my scholarship and move to a new school so I don’t have to do all the religious routine or suck it up. And mostly, I do suck it up. Mainly because my parents are believers of God and would be a saint when it comes to him. I’m like that too, I pray and confess my sins and sometimes even ask for help when I do need it. I’m a good girl, as they say. And I am a good girl.

It just simply goes away once I see my priestess once a week.

Ruther Catholic College has been my high school life, I’ve been in boarding school ever since I turned fifteen years old. My parents, who are religious people, think that Catholic schools do good for schoolgirls like me. I am a good schoolgirl, I just have issues that I’d rather not talk about. I have never been vocal about it either, not finding a sense in it since I don’t talk to a lot of people. I do have friends, but I skip my time with them so that I could read my books. I’m an aspiring writer, a journalist. I write the simplest stories that are book worthy and it makes me think that I am talented and educationally smart–since I was raised that way. I’m a Rogers, for Christ’s sake. Of course, being academically smart has to be on the charts.

But I cannot shake off my infatuation with my priestess, Natasha, who is twice my age. She has the kindest eyes that I’ve ever laid my eyes on, all my teachers are bastards and have soggy jawlines. But Mother Natasha has a face of a babe with the maturity that comes with it. Her lips are subtle and thick, and her hands are quite long and neat. She wears this attire every Friday and does the chapel, preaches the word of God, and makes us go to the confession room to reveal our sins with no shame. I still have to wonder who was behind that divider, because there are many women in that church that could possibly be forgiving my sins. I’ve blatantly confessed to many women, not knowing who they are.

Anyway, the humanities building is the largest dorm of all in New York. We have our own rooms, our own food too. But we are still required to go to the cafeteria to say our prayers, to bond with other schoolgirls. I, personally, do like having my own space. The context of someone being in your room can be very intrusive, which I am not fond of. I have a desk that has most of my writings, and poems that are short. On the other side, my single bed was there as well as my long rectangular-shaped window. Beside the door are my bookshelves which have the cross of Jesus Christ above the wooden shelf. I’d invite a friend or two to have a book date, but never less sleep there. There would be a couple of nuns on the watch, especially at night. That means we aren’t allowed to even get out of the building without permission and say where we are headed. Only our parents can pick us up from our school.

Today is Friday which is my luck to see Mother Natasha again. I hiked my white long socks all the way to my knees and got into my black shoes that felt hard on my heels. Though, I have no choice but not to wear them. When I was in the hallway, I could feel the cold breeze of the air. It’s September and it’s the start of my year, I turned eighteen a week ago and spent it with my parents. Some of them say I still act like a fifteen-year-old kid, but I don’t think that way. With how smart I am, I felt like an adult once I reached this age. I see Wanda with her hair tied up that shows off her brunette locks, she smiles at me and brings her arm inside mine.

“Guess what?”

“What?” I asked while trying to stop the itch from my feet, making my face scrunched in a weird look.

“I’m getting a laptop soon!” she says joyfully, squealing with her arms tightening around mine. It hurt, but it didn’t matter. I smiled to silently tell Wanda that I was happy for her, truly I was.

“That’s nice,” I responded with a huff because of the cold wind. “I was wondering when I’m going to get mine. I could write better stories there.”

“You’re always writing and reading, don’t you ever get bored?”

“No,” I huffed again. “Not really. It only keeps me away from reality, I get to choose what it feels like to be loved and unloved. I also get to choose whether I’m religious or not.”

I was a good girl but never came to terms with my religion. I believe in God, though. I truly do think he’s capable of all of us sinners and people, it’s just hard to believe when your teacher says something about the world ending. Revelation is not the best chapter in the Bible, it never was. Truly because I think it’s fictional and hypothetical for these things to happen, it has been said for many years. I still don’t see it happening.

Maybe that makes me a sinner of not being afraid of death. I'm not afraid of the underground world once I die, because I know that it’s a place for me and other people who go through my struggle. I’d rather not admit it, it makes me feel ashamed of myself.

When we reached the big wooden doors that lead to the chapel, I gulped. I could feel my throat restraining as if I’m not allowed to talk–which was the case, you aren’t allowed to talk in the chapel. Once it opens, all of us schoolgirls come rushing in quietly. Of course in line. I see my teachers being in the back row while there are a few nuns in the front row, and the section of my class sits in the right row in the middle of the church. So I sat there quietly with Wanda, who had her feet pressed together. A nun was at the altar playing the piano that was ringing in our ears beautifully, and I do find it relaxing. And once everyone was in the chapel, the priestess made her entrance.

Mother Natasha.

I could hear Wanda mumbling, “I wonder if she has a husband. She seems lonely, I mean look at her stance. It screams I want a husband. Do you think she wants one? Or does she have one already?”

I imagine Mother Natasha bringing her husband, who is possibly a priest. And I almost made a grimace look because of that imagination. I’d like to think Natasha is a lonely person who has her personal space and has a wonderful mind. And even if I don’t know her, she radiates that kind of mood. Especially how well-spoken she was, even if they are scriptures from the Bible. I responded to her quietly that I don’t think that she wants a husband, and Wanda just shrugs saying with another mumble: “That’s sad, I don’t want that. I would like a husband someday.”

Why do everyone has to think about marriage? Why can’t we just be happy with ourselves? I do personally think that marriage is a waste and something impulsive to do. There’s nothing forever in everything, even with stupid marriage. The thought of the word forever cringes me, it makes my body feel tingly with that word. I hate it, I hate it more than my dad.

“Please stand up for our prayer,” says Mother Natasha with a broad voice, everyone else closing their eyes. I had to do it as well but urged them to open again just to see her, to take a glimpse of her. After a long prayer, the service began. I was holding onto my Bible while still listening to her preaching, appreciating how there was so much power in her voice. I wish I could easily do that, to attract people with just my voice.

“For rebellion is as the sin of divination,

And insubordination is as iniquity and idolatry.

Because you have rejected the word of the Lord,

He has also rejected you from being king.”

When she says those words with such vulnerability, we make eye contact. It was brief, yet it meant so much to me. She looked at me. And I could see her creating a small smile that was so fainted, you could barely see it. My body tensed from the way her eyes were looking at mine, it was like I couldn’t breathe. My heart stopped. How utterly infatuated I was with something sinful that I cannot despair. She was a woman, a grown woman. I was a kid, practically a teenager still. Yet, she still looked at me without meaning.

After the service, we were asked to go to the confession room as always. It had to take a while since there were a lot of students and it took at least a minute or two. I was waiting in line with my fingers playing on the edge of my skirt. I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering about the possibilities that could happen later once I confess. But mostly, I thought about how Mother Natasha looked at me and almost gave me a smile. Was it sinful enough for me to want it from her?

“Y/N Rogers,” a nun calls me. I lifted my head up in response. “You’re up next. Don’t take too long.”

I mumbled a thank you for being polite and walked inside the small booth, closing the curtains. It felt intimate to be here again, to sit on the warm wooden chair and be faced by a divider. I start by saying with a light voice: “Bless me, Mother, for I have sinned. My last confession was about watching sexual films that my friend and I did, and I have thoughts about it. And for my next confession, I began to research abortion so that I could be prepared for the future. I know that it’s sinful to kill a child inside of your womb, but I was very curious. I will never do something like that again. And for my last one, I’m having an infatuation with someone that they do not know me. They barely made eye contact with me, and I’ve been thinking about them for the longest time.”

There was a short pause until the priestess asked, “Is this person a schoolmate?”

I began to shake my head. Lies, full of lies. I can’t confess something like this, it would be sinful enough to commit to it. It was just a stupid girl crush, no big deal. Wrong, it was a big deal–especially at this church. Homophobia is the real issue here, and they ban any homosexual acts from this school. So, I lied through my teeth.

“No, Mother. Someone else outside of school.”

“By the authority vested in me by the church, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. May your confession be a reminder of you, child.”

I then realized how feminine the voice of that woman was. It sounded younger, and not some haggard old voice that you’d usually hear from another priestess. No, this sounded different. It sounded exactly just like Mother Natasha, although more feminine. Much lighter. I overthought this conversation until I made my way back to the room, where I had to do my project in English Class. My teacher, Mrs. Davis, is an outstanding poet. I love learning from her, but she seems too old for me to like. I’m assuming she’s in her sixties or maybe late fifties, but who am I to care about her age? I just simply love her class.

I kiss the small cross from my bracelet as I do a little prayer by the window, apologizing for my sins. It’s a daily ritual, a routine where I knelt down peacefully and talked to God. Whether he’s hearing me or not, I could tell how disappointed he was with my simple infatuation with a woman who was in her forties. I was ashamed, but never truly understood with the exception of being homosexual. Perhaps, I was. But I try my best to push it away, and it’s working.

“Forgive me, Lord Father, for I have sinned today. I know I may have disappointed you, and I will do my best to remain pure to your eyes. In the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

                                                       —

Saint as she was on the outside, the devil she was on the inside. Natasha has urges, sexual urges. Maybe infatuation too, but more on the concept of fucking someone has been on her mind. Especially to me, specifically to me. How she’s trying to condemn herself whenever I'm around, how to try not to notice my eyes whenever she preaches. She prays to the Lord every day to push the feeling off, to be a saint in front of his eyes. But her urges continue on as if it was hunting for prey.

Mother Natasha is now inside your room with the door being quietly closed. She holds her clerical collar around her neck, trying to hold off the animalistic self to not grow out immediately. She takes in the coolness of my room, hearing the sounds of the clock ticking as well as the lights outside from the window are yellow. She looks at my desk and places a finger down, swiping across from the wood. She brings her finger to her tongue and licks it–rolling her eyes back at her head at the image of me on her desk. It’s getting worse day by day whenever she sees me by the halls of Ruther College, she wants to bite me. To simply take me that no one else could. Mother Natasha takes a few steps to my bed and simply admires my slumbered body, smiling to herself and whispering: How beautiful you are, my little lamb. How effortlessly pretty you are.

She takes out her hand and ran her knuckles against my soft cheek, afraid enough that she’ll wake me out of my slumber. Relief left her body when I didn’t stir awake and continued her actions. Mother Natasha has always admired me, especially whenever the teachers would talk about me to her. They would say how well disciplined I am and how much they love my writings, saying that some of my essays could be poetry. She admires that very deeply and takes it in by heart. Before she could do further action, she goes to my desk and starts opening drawers quietly. Something catches her eyes, it’s underwear that has never been washed.

“Perhaps this is yours, little lamb,” she murmurs to herself while touching the cloth of my old juices, running her thumb against it. She brings it to her nose and smells it, almost making a euphoric sound out of it. She’s insane, utterly and completely insane to me. “How beautiful you are, how much you make me crazy.”

Mother Natasha shoves the sheer pink panties inside of her pockets and maneuvers toward me once more, looking down at my body. She takes the ridge of the blanket and moves it down slowly, her eyes staring at my face to see if there are any reactions. None. So she continued until the blanket was at my feet. I was still asleep, deeply in fact. My eyes were so shut that I didn’t even know she was already behind me, her hands remained untouched from my hips. It was as if she was afraid to even hold my arms, to smell my neck. Forgive me, Father, she thought to herself and takes a good amount of smell of my hair. Strawberries. She began to be obsessed with me at this moment and thought about numerous acts that she could do to my body.

I was awoken with a strong pair of hands on my mouth, making me scream from the top of my lungs. Above me, there was a familiar sight and I will never forget this day when I found out that it was Mother Natasha who was on top of me. I was bewildered, scared, and distraught. But scarier if that made sense. I tried pushing her off with my hands fighting against her, but she was unbelievably strong. Was this happening? Am I dreaming? I was infatuated with her and wanted her to notice me, but never like this.

“Shh, baby, please,” her voice sounded like a beg, her eyes are now kind but I could see much evil that was inside her green eyes. “Please stop, quiet down. Shh, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you. I just want a little taste from you, okay sweetheart? Just a little taste…”

Once she put her hand away, I wanted to scream. But her lips were attached to mine and I simply almost passed out because of it. Is this what it feels like to be kissed by your priestess? Her lips were so soft, so plump. My eyes went from terror to closing them, almost giving in to how well she pressed her lips on mine. My hands went immediately on her chest and pushed her as hard as I could, but her hands were caught on my wrists and her eyes are no longer kind. Her eyes were in pure anger.

“Stay down,” she demanded, hovering over my small body as I tried fighting against her. Tears are starting to form in my eyes, but she didn’t care. She needed to let it all out. “Baby, you’re breaking a poor old woman’s heart. Please stay still. I need to take you, I want you so much.”

I wanted to be freed from her arms, away from her lips. I didn’t want it, I told myself not to want it. It was a sin, an awful sin especially when it comes from another woman. Would’ve it been better if she was a man? Hell, that’s even worse. If I do admit that I like it, I might as well be as sinful as she was. Her hands were absolutely everywhere, she was holding my hips with a grip–making me think there would be a mark as well as her kisses on my neck. She was desperate. So so desperate for me. My face was pressed against the soft pillow as she assaulted my helpless body, smiling faintly to herself when I was only wearing a pink tank top along with white cotton panties.

“How beautiful you are, my little angel…” she whispers to my ears and hooks her fingers to my underwear. My eyes bulged out and I was quick to say something before she could even pull them down.

“I’m not experienced, I don’t–can you please stop what you’re doing to me, Mother?”

She clicks her tongue and juts her lower lip as if feeling bad for me. I started to whimper when she shakes her head a “no”. Meaning, that she doesn’t want to stop. She was about to hurt me and I’m going to like the hell out of it.

“Jus’ be a good girl for me,” Mother Natasha mumbled while kissing the corner of my lips sloppily, trying to pull away from her mouth but she makes a threatening voice: “Stop moving or I will hurt you.”

I quivered from the voice that she erupted, I trembled vigorously when she put her hand on my right breast–her mouth near my ear as she shushes me down, threatening me some more. I wanted her to stop, I wanted her to leave. Because knowing myself, I could lose control once she doesn’t stop. I was inexperienced, I don’t know how to touch a woman or even a man. My lips are no longer a virgin, they have been manipulated by her lips instead of a precious one. But maybe, she is the precious one. Maybe, I was just stubborn to realize that.

“Forgive me, Father,” I whispered to myself while her lips were biting on my neck–hissing myself with a loud whimper and immediately covering my mouth once more. From the corner of my eye, I could see her smirking as she whispers hotly on my face: “There’s no Father here, my little girl. It’s just me, Mother. I will take good care of my precious baby.”

She brings down my panties with a grunt, her other hand still on my mouth as she throws the discarded undergarment onto the ground. Mother Natasha quietly gasps to herself as she sees my unshaven core, her mouth-watering from the sight. I could feel more tears trickling down from my eyes as she touches my cunt, knowing how dry it was.

“I’m going to get you so wet, little lamb… You shall see the ecstasy from the Lord. This is his gift, bringing me to you, kitty.”

With those nicknames, it made me wet. Those words are so foreign in my ears like I’ve never heard of them before. And I never did, so the way her sultry voice speaks to me makes me want her to touch my sensitive parts until I was eaten by her. How much I wanted her and how endlessly I denied it. I continued to cry and so on, letting her dominate my poor body while she was smiling at how much has been revealed to her.

“Recite the whole Hail Mary for me,” she quickly says with a domineering voice, turning me until my back is pressed against the mattress. I looked at her and pulled my tank top upwards with effort. “Detka, stop fighting it. Eventually, your virginity shall be mine. We were meant to be this way, accept it.”

I couldn’t. I thought this was supposed to be different, I thought that she’ll only be my priestess and nothing more than that. But I was so driven by her stamina and her harsh kisses that I’m making myself give in, I must give in to not disappoint her. So I did. She smiled widely once I took off my tank top, throwing it across the room and I was fully naked beneath her. I covered my chest with my arms and shyly said, “I think we’ve had enough, Mother. I–I think we should stop.”

“There’s no stopping here,” she harshly whispers and kisses my lower lip; biting it even, which made me let out a tiny whimper. “Give yourself to me, little lamb. I’ll make sure you’ll be filled with so much love from me, I promise.”

She pushed my legs wide and gasped quietly once she saw the full view of my vagina, I could see her hungry eyes far from here. It’s a sight that I’ll never forget, that I’ll imagine once I go to sleep every night. Her mouth lands on my stomach and makes swirling kisses with her tongue, whispering biblical words that I cannot comprehend due to the fact that I’m a mess. Tears are coming out like a river, as well as my whimpers of mercy. She gives open-mouth heated kisses on my pelvis and finally, her mouth was on my cunt. I arched my back in response, my hand went flying to her hair to grip it; she didn’t mind. To her head, she loved it.

“Please,” I begged and took a deep breath, releasing the tension inside of me. “You have to stop, Mother. I–I can’t do this with you, this is wrong.”

She shakes her head in disagreement with her eyebrows scrunched together, but her eyes are still glued to my clitoris. She whispers with a deeper voice: “This is never wrong for the both of us, my child. It’s meant to be.”

Her tongue squirmed all over my folds as I covered my mouth with my mouth, moaning when her lips were attached to my clitoris. She sucks on it, making a sipping sound while her hands are roaming around my stomach to calm me down. Her mouth was rough, as well as her tongue. Especially her tongue. It’s like she knows what she’s doing with it, and I don’t even understand the techniques that she’s releasing from within her. Mother Natasha continued to eat me from down there as I prayed to the Lord for my sins; quietly.

“You taste divine, my angel…” she praises, her eyes closed as she licks and licks my departed folds, the tip of her tongue prodding against my cunt. “So fucking good, this pussy is so beautiful… Want you to shave it for me.”

I still had my hand gripping her hair tightly and let her assault my cunt with her mouth and her tongue that would draw me from my orgasm. She still had her chapel outfit on, which kind of made my body feel hot. I could still see the clerical collar around her neck, as well as her cross necklace that was made out of wood. But none the less, I was in true heaven while she ate me out like a starved animal.

“I’m so–Lord, Forgive me,” I begged, and I pleaded. My chest starts to heave deeper as my pants become more ragged. “Stop, please stop! It’s too much–I can’t take it…”

“You taste so fucking good,” she groaned against my cunt, admiring my clenching hole. “Look at that, you are nothing but my child. I’m cleansing you away from your sins, I’m the one who listens to them. Don’t be a dumb baby.”

I let out a whining moan at the sound of her voice and how she says them with so much sexual power within her body. I began to whine more once I felt two fingers dipping inside of my vagina, and I immediately lifted myself away.

“No, please. Anything but that. I’m saving myself for the Lord,” I whimpered in pleading but she never wavered. She just kept her arms around my hips as her fingers rubbed my clenching hole. I said with a louder voice, “I said stop, Mother! You’re going to hurt me with your fingers…”

“No, no, baby…” she coos, smiling at me gently while still rubbing smoothly against my hole. She could see how terrified I was, could see how pure I was. And she was grown enough to know that she was taking advantage of me. Should I let her? If I was going, to be honest in the vein of the Lord, yes I wanted her to take my virginity. “Don’t be scared, my child. I’m here to take care of you, remember?”

She thrust two fingers inside my womb without warning, making me scream from my hand. It felt like something broke inside of me, like a river flowing out of my vagina. And to my thoughts, it was my juices. She loved the way I screamed, the way my body squirmed to get away from her. But really, I just wanted more. I needed more even though it stings, it hurts.

“That’s it,” she kisses my clitoris again while pulling out slowly to just pump in again, with more force this time. She could see the way my hips arched and with that, she pushes my lower stomach down with a growl. “Be a good angel, little girl. You’re giving yourself to me, what a saint. Beautiful, just like that… You’re so tight.”

She completely lost her temptation over me, she was a whole new person. And either way, she didn’t care. She wanted me as much as I wanted her–now that I have figured that out. She curls her fingers inside of me with a vigorous moan, latching her mouth once again on my clit while flicking that blud. I start praying once again, asking for forgiveness. Telling to God how much I’ve disobeyed him, it was a sin to commit an affair with a woman0–especially a priestess. I can’t help myself, I’ve fully grown to the feeling of her inside of me. I wanted it, even though on the outside I didn’t.

“Stop,” I whined while I still had my eyes closed, trying to get away from her hungry mouth. But her arms were so strong that you’d think twice if she’s a woman. Maybe she’s just a very strong person. “Please stop, I can’t take it! I’m sorry, forgive me, Father… For I have sinned. Oh god, please–I’m feeling so–”

“You’re loosening up,” she chastises, pulling herself up to smother her wet lips against mine. Our teeth clad together and made a clink, which hurt a bit. But I was so lost from the pain and pleasure that she was giving me, that I couldn’t help but let out a desperate moan. She smiles against my wet lips, almost tasting me. “I broke you in, huh? I love your pretty little body so much…”

She gropes my breasts while thrusting inside of me hard, her fingers curling to hit my special spot. My eyes were shut completely as my mouth gaped open, giving her access to kiss me. I could feel her dark redhead locks against my sweaty skin as she pumps her fingers, feeling my walls not as tight anymore. She loved the feeling of her taking my virginity, the one where she gets to taste a girl first. And god, I have made her crazy. Utterly insane.

I moved my head away from her lips and held onto the headboard steadily, almost coming from an orgasm that I’d never had before. She still has that smile on her face, it was as if she had won some trophy. And then I realized I was that trophy, I was her prize. I could feel the cross dangling onto my face as she whispers harshly, “Good little girls like you make me feel alive, lamb. You have no idea how attracted I am to you, how obsessed I am whenever you pass by. I know your little stares, baby. I’m not dumb enough to not see them.”

Immediately, I was embarrassed. But that feeling was at the corner since there are multiple emotions that I’m going through in just one night. I wanted to hate her, to never see her again. She was a saint that I always praised, but a demonic human being at night. Though, I love her. I love the way she manipulates my body, how she could control it–knowing what she wants. I was just some little girl in her eyes and felt innocent. Maybe those were her type, good little innocent girls like me. Except that, I was at the right age. It would’ve been an awful turn if I was a bit younger.

Our kiss was like an unforbidden fruit, like how Eve finds a beautiful apple from the snake. She was Lucifer, I was Eve. She knew how to manipulate me into some kind of sick action that I really loved, and I hate myself for it. I loathe thinking that this was not destiny because it felt like it did.

“I have so much desire for you,” her breathing becomes hard and I don’t know how to respond to her desperation. Her eyes are closed now, but I felt her forehead against mine as she gropes my right breast with a tight grip. “Forgive me, my child. I just couldn’t help myself any longer… I had to take you.”

Come for me, angel. Come around my fingers.

Those words repeat in my head as her mouth latched now on my nipple, sucking it while still rubbing my clitoris with her thumb–her fingers still inside of me. I felt disgusted. Yet, alive. My cunt was now abused with her power and I wasn’t ashamed of it, but I could still feel my tears falling down from my eyes endlessly, it was as if I am truly ashamed of what is going on. Eventually, I came on her fingers and she had her mouth on me to muffle my screams. She knew what she was doing, she damn knew. I was so lost with the feeling, the mixture of pain and pleasure. My body trembles from her fingers inside of me as my body sweats like crazy.

“That’s it,” she whimpers, kissing my lips harder with her rough mouth. “That’s it, come on… You’re so good to me. You’re such a good little schoolgirl, huh?”

I nodded relentlessly and continued to come around her fingers. Once I am done, she pulls out slowly and brings her lips to her mouth–sucking my come with her eyes closed. I watched the way she lathers her other all over her fingers as if she was starved. And truly, I was too. I panted loudly and laid my head back onto the pillows, sobbing after our sinful encounter.

Her eyes soften and touch my cheek with her knuckles, whispering: “You did good, my child. You did very well. I hope to see you again next week. Will I see you again?”

Why was she acting desperate? She knows she has more power over me, why is she giving me the control to see her? Mother Natasha has the willpower to control me, to make me feel like a bad person. It all felt different, too different. But I gave her a slight nod and tuck myself away from her, still whimpering from the sex that we made. I hear her say: “I made love to you, my child. Don’t act like you don’t like it. You came around my fingers, I hope you get to do that with my cock too someday.”

Someday? And what does she mean by that? Was there something else that I did not know? I felt scared now but wanted her to hold me close. Eventually, I felt the bed dip and watched her as she fixed herself, mumbling a few words that I could barely hear. She turns over her shoulder and gives one last smile before she leaves my room, closing the door quietly.

I cried during that night, feeling ashamed of what I’ve felt or thought. I hate to admit that I loved our sex, I loved the way she took me. But it felt so sinful that I could feel my body as a dirty thing; a dirty creature. I never want to show up in her chapel again, I never want to see those eyes.

But I do, so badly that it aches me.

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[mylordshesacactus]

So to our mutual delight me and @alexkablob realized that we had the potential to make our Strahd characters a dynamic duo (tm) with the end result of running a paladin and cleric of the Raven Queen, respectively.

Atri: 19-year-old aarakocra ranger-cleric, Life Domain (long story). Honestly a very smart, gentle, and perceptive young woman, but also VERY sheltered (she was raised in the temple and has never led a field mission before) and more than a little excited and prone to infodumping about theology and the undead. Profoundly devoted to her goddess and a little nerd about various types of undead, literally opened the campaign with rambling about her theories on which kind of undead was most likely to be behind the haunted house she's here to investigate alongside her new best friend Eleri. Eleri: Mid-30s tiefling paladin, Oath of Devotion. Just sort of Became a paladin after a near-death experience and is, like, grateful for the rescue and all, but really ought to have a negative Religion modifier and is prone to referring to the Raven Queen as the Crow Lady. Got guilt-tripped by a temple high priestess in the city into acting as this bird kid's bodyguard on her mission to fix some kind of haunted house, because she is DEFINITELY gonna die if left unsupervised. Already EXTREMELY tired but involuntarily becoming deeply fond of Atri against her will.

Running joke that most of the party was brought here by magical quest items but Eleri doesn't need one, because the weird item that dragged her to this stupid house is in fact Atri.

#d&d #strahd campaign

[fluffypotatey]

Consider: Arthur keeping his word about making peace with the Druids (*side-eyes BBC*) and the next time they come across one of those small shrines, he's a lil uncomfy still but is doing his best like, "what's this one for? Should we go around or...?" Because this one isn't as subtly creepy as the last one, there are no "def haunted" vibes, it's just a kind of rough cairn of stacked stone and branches, and it's got flowers all over it, candle stubs and incense sticks, little jars of honeycomb, sweetmeats, preserves, etc.

And it's Percival (hc he was raised in a Druid camp, even if he doesn't have magic) is like, "No, it's fine, this one is for Emrys."

Cue Arthur asking about Emrys, and Percival explaining he's supposedly the living son of the Triple Goddess, born to heal the wounds of the Old Religion (he's tactful enough to not mention who made those wounds *coughcough*kingcunt*cough*) and the offerings are made to show kindness and peace, and to aid him in his duty (sure enough, those flowers and herbs are all medicinal).

"Why's it so important to keep him happy?" It's Gwaine who asks, irreverent and curious.

And Percival tells them the story of the High Priestess Nimueh, who tried to turn her power against Emrys's through the magic of life and death. So Emrys created a great storm over the Isle of the Blessed and called down the wrath of rain and lightning to unmake her.

They're all so absorbed in storytelling that nobody notices Merlin sitting off to the side and sweating like a hooker talking to a beat cop.

-

Bonus points if Merlin sneaks over to take some of the offerings, against his better judgement bc he should not be encouraging this but he's got a killer sweet tooth and nobody in Camelot can make decent sweetmeats, apparently, and some of these herbs are pretty rare.

Double bonus if Percival or Elyan sees him do it and are like, "bro you gon be so cursed," and Merlin doesn't know how to explain that no he's not sacrilegious, these are for him, they're offerings, they were offered, and not entirely realising he's being paid the magical equivalent of ye olde protection racket.

*also side-eyes bbc* yeah...this would have been awesome to have...excuse me while i go sharpen my knives, completely unrelated to this ask i assure you

#(at bbc) hey why the FUCK did you leave an opportunity like this open??? 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 #bbc i just wanna talk #hey i just want to have a conversation 🔪 nothing bad 🔪 i swear #your honor you can vouch for me right 🔪 ....that's what i thought #bbc merlin #i am 100% on board with this #elyan being extra vigilant with merlin bc he was possessed before and doesn't wish such a thing to befall his dear friend #merlin: emrys won't mind #elyan: emrys burned a fucking priestess to the ground for challenging him #merlin: well...she asked for it #elyan: merlin that's not helping your case! #merlin emrys #i feel like it's through percival's explanation through the shrine is when the knights learn how much of a cryptid emrys is #yeah yeah i'm going with that #sir percival #knights of the round table #Anonymous #asks #ask

[praisethesuuun]

Ok, maybe this request has already appeared on another blog. But my request is for Poseidon with an Amaterasu priestess. Her family was of high social and economic hierarchy in Japan, being her only female daughter they offered her to the Ise Jingu (Great Shrine of Amaterasu). She where she suffered many physical and mental abuse, including confinement, demanded by her family from the monks and senior priestesses if her daughter was not perfect to the letter in her demands. During one of her punishments in isolation from her, Amaterasu adopted her as her daughter and was with her, until she fatally died in the temple because of the monks and a demon. In her life in Valhalla, she attended a party after Ragnarok with her mother Amaterasu. And that's where Poseidon saw her and became interested in her. But Amaterasu kept him at a distance, because she knew of Poseidon's problem (cough-fetish-cough) with virgin priestesses. But Poseidon was worth half a melon and he kidnapped the priestess to court. she and/n her rejected Poseidon over and over again because he was a married man (Amphitrite), and that man did not cause her confidence. Trying every day the priestess to escape from Poseidon's residence and return to her mother. While Amaterasu was about to rip off Hades' head for defending her brother, he kidnaps daughters (mmmm…it runs in the family I guess) (Please let him escape, it doesn't come to my mind how, but let him escape from the crazy king of the seas)

if it is very long you can reject it, good night. (*￣3￣)╭❤

Anon, I'm happy to announce that I finally finished it! I did my best, I swear and I hope you like it❤️ Plus, it was very funny to mock Poseidon eheh

Poseidon x priestess!reader: the Song of the Sun

Type: angst, with an happy ending

Warnings: abuse, violence, kidnapping

Some things cannot be forgotten. Humankind has a dark, hidden and scary side; made up of vices and deadly sins. The man hides it behind a second face, a mask that tends to slowly crumble, making the malice overflow like a river in flood, and sadly you found out the hard way.

Sometimes memories come back to the surface, making your scars burn like never before, a bitter pain, like the taste of blood. Your mind was ruthless with you, making you relive those memories despite being in Heaven, maybe humanity is not a race made to be happy, the gods know it and that's why they deny total salvation: when you no longer have a body, the soul takes over and clings to all that remains of earthly life, assimilating beautiful things and ugly ones with them. If you think about it, this is precisely the mechanism that allows ghosts to take the shape they had in their past life, that damned mandatory condition that had "materialized" the marks you had on your body.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, my dear"

A voice roused you from your thoughts, making you raise your head towards the door of the great hall of the temple. Your eyes soften at the spiritual vision before you: your holy mother, the sun that shines in the sky in the morning illuminating the few remaining traces of the night stars. "I'm sorry, Amaterasu-sama"

The fleshy lips of the deity arched into a slight smile, the bearer of deep compassion: Amaterasu had decided to make you her eldest priestess and favorite daughter, she loved you with all her heart, especially after witnessing all the prayers you dedicated to her in the evening, asking her to save you from that horrible place you called "home". She had treated your wounds like the mother you never had, visiting you in the rooms of your old temple, healing every cut with a simple touch; she would listen to you with pleasure as you let off steam and yelled at your monster parents. How could he not protect you under his wing? A little priestess who kept praying to her, despite knowing only the worst of her religion.

"What is bothering you, my little ray of sunshine?"

You always blushed whenever she called you that: since you never received parental affection, you attached yourself to any sign of affection that made you feel special, wanted. "Just old memories, that's all, but your light scared them, like always!"

Your ability to laugh had always fascinated her, it is no coincidence that you were her best worshiper, worthy of being in contact with her. All those little remarks distracted Amaterasu from the real reason she came to you; so he composed himself, approaching your smallest figure, lowering himself until his long black hair touched your face, then she talked: "The Greek pantheon has thrown a party after the legendary event of Ragnarok, we are required to attend"

Your heart skipped a beat. Your concerns were well founded since you were a human, but you were spared thanks to the protection of your goddess. True, she would have shielded you, but even a strong deity like her could do nothing against the onslaught of different Pantheons, so you limited yourself to praying, entrusting your protection to the goddess of sun light. "I understand, mother"

"Good, now go and rest, tomorrow will be hard" she said, before disappearing behind her snow-colored dress, retreating to the other side of the temple and leaving you alone, in the large room full of golden statuettes and scarlet tapestries. You stood up, abandoning your prayer position, and once you had fixed the sun-shaped hair clip in your hair, you decided to follow Amaterasu's advice. Who knows what the gods would have thought about your presence? Suddenly, the room became cold or maybe it was the shiver down your spine that was? It didn't matter, the only important thing now was to think about not making the gods angry the next day, keeping quiet and attracting as little attention as possible, maybe you would have worn a mask too, posing as a minor deity; no, they would surely find out. "Ah! How the hell am I supposed to do it?"

Your only consolation was being able to change the air once in a while: staying all day at the temple could be boring and monotonous; due to the dangers you ran living there, Amaterasu was very protective of you. The party would have been one of the few occasions in which you had been allowed to cross the walls that surround the house. Don't get me wrong, you loved to stay there - especially in the sunflower area - but every once in a while you felt like exploring Valhalla, the Garden of Eden and the temples that grace it.

You sighed, deciding to sleep on it, hoping for peaceful dreams and begging that fortune would listen to you. The bed in your room was soft, with white sheets scented with incense, while the red walls were adorned with sacred objects and golden rays; it had seemed heavy to you at first, more like a ceremonial chamber than a bedroom, yet you slept so blissfully in it! Every time you realized where you were and your current rank you felt so proud of yourself: despite the pain - and also thanks to that - you had fallen into the arms of your goddess; that thought was enough to give you peaceful dreams.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

"My lady! Are you sure about that?" you said, while Amaterasu continued to put one dress after another on you, having fun dressing you up as if you were her doll. Every cloth he put on you was precious, the hems were adorned with precious and colored stones, while the softness of the best cotton in all of Heaven caressed your hips, gracefully descending to the ground. Given your rank as a high priestess, you had to maintain your purity, your soul must not suffer any kind of stain or sin, so Amaterasu had been very careful to cover every part of your body - even if in reality she had done it for not making you uncomfortable with the scars. It was a way to respect you and your body.

"Of course! You'll see, even Aphrodite will be jealous of you" Amaterasu answered, while she was intent on braiding your hair properly, using your usual sun clip and small bundles of pearls, which were alternated with the strands, creating a pleasant play of light. Perfect, just the thing you absolutely didn't need, but you didn't feel like telling your mother the truth...she was having so much fun.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying yourself too: all that attention was nice, plus you wanted to look pretty too once in a while, you died young after all. All those colors were magnificent, not to mention the Chihayas that the goddess was presenting to you. It was like a dream for you, you were about to have that experience you've never had before: your parents refused to let you go free, just like the other temple priests; this meant a lifetime of watching other children enjoy themselves from a distance, without going to festivals with them and without weaving flower crowns.

"You look happy, my daughter"

"Maybe, just maybe, this party won't be so bad..."

A loud laugh escaped Amaterasu's lips, so loud that it echoed throughout the temple. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped in amazement, the sun goddess had always been very loud and full of life, but you didn't expect such a reaction. "Of course it won't! If you were concerned about your human nature, then don't worry, everyone will be too drunk to find out anyway"

You smiled, sincerely. "So, I trust you"

"And then, maybe you'll meet some handsome god ready to pay court to you~"

"Mom!"

Your cheeks tinted with pure embarrassment, becoming the same color as the flake around your hips. You had forgotten how spontaneous the goddess could be, she had really caught you in the bag and you no longer knew what to answer. The only thing that occurred to you to do was to hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your emotions, but Amaterasu didn't stop giggling, stroking your back lovingly. After all, there was nothing to be ashamed of if you wanted to get to know other deities: your mother only wanted the best for you, she knew that sooner or later your adolescence would fully invest you and she could not have done anything to avoid it. You deserved to be happy and live the life you never had, even though you were a priestess. Before being a goddess, she is your mother and would do whatever it took to see you smile; in addition, some of the looks that the gods had turned to her little girl certainly hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Uncover your face, my darling, and put on some powder, we'll be leaving soon" Amaterasu said, assuming a calmer and more peaceful tone, clearly in contrast with the previous one. You nodded, starting to pass the candid powder on your face, stopping from time to time to observe your figure. Your mother had really dressed you up like a doll, you were adorable in your white kimono with reddish patterns, which reminded you of sunbeams and stars. For the first time in a long time, you felt beautiful, thinking about who you really were and not the scarred skin under your clothes. Suddenly, an annoyed growl from the goddess roused you from your thoughts, moving your eyes (e/c) in her direction. "What's going on, mother?" you asked in a calm voice, trying not to anger her further. When angry, Amaterasu-sama was frightening: she darkened the sun condemning to the deepest darkness, locking up anyone who provoked her in a prison of shadows. Your teeth were chattering just thinking about it.

"Only your uncle...stupid Susanoo"

Oh yeah, those two had been at war since the rice paddies incident - but that's another story.

Apparently, he wasted no time arguing with Amaterasu, as the latter still didn't understand why he wanted to accompany you. Then, she remembered that he is a god too and that it would be safest for you to travel with both of them. "I'm just saying this for her own good, she's my niece, I love her too" said the storm god, ready to escort you en route to Olympus. You didn't mind his company, you didn't talk too much, but those few times you were able to hold a conversation with him, the god assumed an attitude of respect and affection. The truth was that your mother had told him your story and Susanoo had accepted his role as an uncle without a second thought, he would have protected you, you were family now.

"Let's get moving," concluded the sun goddess with a dark aura around her, her bright eyes covered in darkness. "Don't worry about her, little priestess" sighed the other, beckoning you to follow him out of the temple. You couldn't find the right words to answer, so you didn't say anything. Those two were awful when they got into a cat-and-mouse game, pulling you in the middle every now and then, wondering who was right and who was wrong, even if you've always shown yourself to be neutral; every now and then, you wondered how you found yourself in the middle of two deities - very powerful, by the way - acting as mediator. 'Destiny plays tricks sometimes' you thought as you walked through the beautiful gardens surrounding the temple. That day would have been one of the most important challenges of your life, may luck send you good luck!

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Meanwhile, on the top of Olympus, Hermes was busy welcoming every deities who presented themselves to the Greek mountain. He always got excited whenever all the gods were gathered, whether it was a party or a meeting, something interesting always came out of it - like the destruction of mankind. His blood-colored irises scanned the area for problems, but found none. "Perfection"

But as always, everything was going too well. It was his father Zeus who broke that balance, who called him to a table where he and his brothers were gathered. That family was as chaotic as it was diverse: the father of the gods did nothing but drink, downing glass after glass as if there was no tomorrow; Persephone was beside her husband, while Hades stood in silence, but with a serene smile crowning his angelic face, atypical of a king of the Underworld; and then, there was Poseidon and his wife Amphitrite, the most lopsided couple in all of creation. They had been the focus of gossip for weeks, given Poseidon's disinterest in his love life and the needs of his wife. There were even rumors that she planned to cheat on him, but in reality, the sweet queen of the seas still clung to the hope of saving her marriage.

"Do you need anything, Lord Zeus?" asked the god messenger, approaching him with his usual friendly and apathetic smile. "More wine, my son!"

"If you continue like this, we should start calling you Dionysus" said Hades, eliciting laughter from Aphrodite and Amphitrite, who were seated close together and with a half-empty goblet in their hands.

Suddenly, the rumble of thunder shifted the attention of all the guests to the doors of the great temple, where three figures could be glimpsed from a dark, stormy cloud full of rain. In a few seconds, the mysterious cloud was swept away by a gust of wind so powerful as to mess up those who were nearby, dissolving that blue curtain and revealing three figures: you, Amaterasu-sama and Susanoo-sama. Your gown and the pearls in your hair gleamed in the sunlight, much brighter after the arrival of your mother, who radiated solemnity and elegance. Your entrance amazed; the three most precious Japanese treasures of their pantheon, simply wonderful. Aphrodite, at the sight of Amaterasu's candid dress, had already started to puff and show her chest - more than she already did -, while Zeus had hearts instead of eyes and hoped not to be pecked by Hera. But a spontaneous question had arisen in all those present: who was the mysterious damsel?

"Who is that?" asked Persephone, as she observed your figure curiously, much smaller than those accompanying you. Thus, she wasted no time in approaching, abandoning the table where she was sitting, the smile never left her face, in fact, it widened as soon as she saw you blush once you realized what was about to happen. "Hello! Nice hair, what's your name?"

Your brain sent a warning signal to the rest of your body, but you still decided to keep calm. No errors, not even one.

"My name is Y/N, it's my pleasure" you replied with a small bow, a small gesture, but suitable for increasing the sympathy of a deity towards you. Over time, you learned that by doing so, the gods would think you were easy going or a staunch believer; leaving you alone. It seemed that this little trick hit Persephone's heart, and she wasted no time in dragging you along. In your panic, you couldn't utter a single word of disapproval, while Amaterasu watched the scene in amusement, wishing you good luck with a wink.

"Go and enjoy yourself, dear daughter!"

"Mother, you traitor!"

But the goddess who held your arm was so amazed by you: you looked so naive and pure, not to mention your grace and mysterious figure, it was impossible to resist you. "Look who I brought?", Persephone spoke enthusiastically, making space on the sofa on which she sat previously, positioning you - or rather, crushing you - between you and the queen of the seas. Hades looked up, gave you a slight smile, before returning his attention to Zeus, who was so drunk that he didn't even notice your presence. Amphitrite introduced herself cordially, slightly lifting the voluminous skirt of her green-blue dress. "I've heard of you, you're Lady Amaterasu's daughter! You look so pretty" the latter broke the silence, looking at you with her violet eyes. The three of you continued to talk, even though in reality, for you, it was just a matter of answering their questions. You were so taken by the two queens that you didn't notice the interested look of a certain tyrant of the seas: not surprisingly, in the eyes of Poseidon you appeared perfect, with your delicate ways, never hesitating or stammering even once, maintaining your composure. But the thing that attracted him the most was your purity, your not having been touched yet. Your soul was white, untouched, something more unique than rare in the midst of that vortex of vice in which the other gods had sunk. You were stunning.

Poseidon was careful not to show his interest, casually sipping his white wine, watching the dance floor and the celebrations of the others...

But, in reality, he was memorizing your every word, imprinting every minute detail on his memory, absorbing informations like a sponge does with water. The only entity to notice his interest was your mother herself, who knew well the tendencies - cough pervections cough - of the god of the seas, worrying. "Brother" she called to Susanoo beside her, too busy drinking a flask of sake to pay attention to the table of rulers; so he slapped him on the back of the head to revive him from his hangover. "Poseidon has his eyes on her"

"Fuck"

"Let's go, now"

Susanoo nodded, leaping to his feet and leaving the area dedicated to the Shinto pantheon, hurrying to rearrange his armour, but refusing to leave the booze. Now Olympus had clouded over, darkening more and more with every step Amaterasu takes towards you; all the gods were fine, anyone - except Zeus, that goes without saying - but not Poseidon, absolutely not him, that terrible fish and ruiner of virgins. With your daughter? Not even in the slightest.

"Darling, let's leave this temple", the sun goddess didn't even leave you time to answer, but there was no need since you literally ran away from your captors: they were making you uncomfortable, with all those questions...

At first, you thought it was simple courtesy, but gods can be just as ruthless as humans, after all they created them; and jealousy was the hardest viper to kill. You weren't stupid, you didn't fall into certain traps, yet you felt slightly proud: you made two queens jealous, you, a simple human. Sweet.

And in no time at all, the cloud returned, again engulfing the three figures and bringing you back to the temple of your only goddess.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

"That stupid fish! Who does he think he is? That fuck-"

"That's enough, mother"

It was just the two of you left in your bedroom. Amaterasu had been gossiping about Poseidon for hours and didn't seem to have any intention of stopping; she had explained to you all the reasons for so much hatred, of the rotten blood of his family. His being a "usurper of virgins" had somewhat frightened you, so that saying that the silent ones were always the worst was true. "It's never enough when the subject is him!" your mother yelled, furious, in fact the kingdom where the sun never set, was now plunged into total night.

Three hours had to pass before your sweet words of reassurance convinced the goddess to leave your room, going to rest in her private part of the temple. You were so tired: the party had gone terribly wrong from your point of view and now your only wish was to sink into a deep sleep.

To think otherwise, on the other side of Valhalla, down in the depths of the ocean, was Poseidon; at the party he had discovered the most precious pearl in all the seas, as bright as a rough diamond and as calm as a spring tide. Comparing you and his wife was like comparing a mussel to a prized oyster.

You had to become his, he wouldn't rest until he brought you to his castle. But it pissed him off: this little obsession of his was like a crack in his perfect god image, it was a slow and corrosive disease, like the waves that erode the coasts. He couldn't even imagine your body, Amaterasu had been good at hiding you, but he wanted to picture it, touch it and feel your soft skin under his fingers. "Honey...why don't you come to bed?" Amphitrite whispered to him: she had slipped into a totally white lace set, white, exactly like your dress. You had totally invaded the tyrant of the seas, cornered him and now you were tormenting him; he didn't even spare his wife a glance before exiting his bedroom, trident in hand and an evil shadow covering his face.

Amphitrite remained there, abandoned and alone, in an icy bed. She sobbed, releasing tears she'd been holding back for a long, long time, dreaming of a happy future, one in which she hadn't chained herself to Poseidon. But it was too late for that, so she just cried.

Meanwhile, her husband had already sailed the seas towards the Shinto sun goddess temple, ready to indulge himself and with the remains of the wine to give him the right adrenaline to challenge the sun. A force invaded him, something profound, born partly from the perverse nature of the gods and partly from that gap in strength between you and him.

The night was still long and full of mysteries, and it was time for him to use the Hades technique.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

When you woke up, your eyes widened and your breath caught as soon as you realized you weren't in the temple. The air was cold, the walls pure white marble, while the soft tatami had been replaced by a set of blue and teal tiles. Terrible, sad, imposing. You tried to get up, but your limbs were pinned to the bed you were sitting on. "No, no, please"

Memories of your mortal life came flooding back: your brain began counting down the seconds, a technique you had developed as a child to shorten the pain between strokes. Without realizing it, you began to sweat, sweat staining the sheets beneath you, while your hair stuck to your forehead and neck. Was it a nightmare? A lucid dream? How did you end up there? Help...someone please...

The first tears began to flow. You looked around looking for hope, but from the only window present you couldn't see exactly where you were, but it seemed stormy and dark. Then, some waves, with some fishes? Sea. Oh no, sea.

"Miss, she's awake"

Your swollen eyes fixed on a figure in the dark corner of the room, a greenish-skinned merman. "My name is Proteus, I will assist you in these days, for any need I will be here at your disposal"

"W-wait! Please, where the hell am I?" you sobbed desperate, looking for any kind of consolation or clue. You were in total panic, you wanted your mother and the warm sunlight, your protector Susanoo was gone. "Uncle..."

"Proteus, come out"

A deep voice, it reminded you of a storm in broad daylight. You had never heard his voice, yet Poseidon was unforgettable. His blond locks, his eyes piercing and reflecting the sea of his kingdom, he was beautiful, yet he remained a tyrant; nature was ruthless with even the most perfect gods, ruthlessly ruining them, in the image and likeness of man.

In less than no time, you found him on top of you, looking you up and down as if he wanted to judge you, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and squeezing tightly. You squeaked, forcibly turning your face away in hopes of freeing yourself from his grip, but you felt like a little mouse in the jaws of a python. Hopeless. It was terrible, your world had collapsed, but why did fate hated you so much? You had suffered so much, just to come full circle. Fucking Poseidon, Amaterasu was right, you should have left her by your side instead of convincing her to leave; you felt so stupid and hated the feeling of inferiority, but now the important thing was one: to be able to escape. "Look at me, mortal"

But you didn't want to. "Look at me, I said"

He didn't raise his hands, Poseidon didn't want to hit you, otherwise he would have ruined your perfect face by reddening your skin; he couldn't afford it.

Unfortunately, after years spent in fear, this teaches you things and among them there is a fundamental rule, which is to satisfy the abuser's small requests, so you looked him straight in the eye. In return, the god kissed you, a hungry and possessive kiss, poor in love but rich in violence, so deep as to leave you breathless. "My lord, Lord Hades is waiting in the hall"

Thanks be to the Seven Lucky Gods, Someone had heard your prayers then, and if they had, they had reached someone else as well. Poseidon turned away, annoyance on his face, but said nothing, boxing the door behind him and ordering his butler to lock it. You spat, wiping the taste of that repulsive thing's saliva out of your mouth, trying not to vomit at the thought. Still, a new feeling of determination invaded you, warming your chest and making you grin to yourself: "Amaterasu is coming, prepare for the wrath of the Sun, tyrant of the oceans"

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Meanwhile, a very stressed out Hades was pacing all over his brother's dining room. "I'm a terrible big brother, how could you take me as an example?"

"Well, Persephone married you, so it wasn't bad"

"I can do it, you can't, especially not with the priestess of Amaterasu. You're in trouble, I can't keep lying to her for long"

The ruler of Helleim was right: the sun goddess had already begun to raise a fuss throughout Valhalla, accusing every deity who came under fire, but it was only a matter of time before she ventured into the depths of Poseidon's castle.

As soon as the goddess saw your empty room, she immediately gave the order to her servants to search for you throughout the structure, including the gardens, and then sent Susanoo to patrol Valhalla, while she would go down to Hellheim herself. She had threatened Hades, grabbing him by the collar and silencing his wife with a single look, literally making her tremble with fear. "Where is my daughter, king of the Underworld?"

She had threatened him, her grip burning like fire, while her eyes were filled with anger. He had defended his brother despite everything, even though he knew that Amaterasu-sama would have discovered them anyway. So why not extend your life for a while?

Persephone was furious, she felt teased and humiliated, plus, as if that weren't enough, Hades proved helpless and didn't even defend her. What a shame!

Instead Hades was much worse off than her and wasted no time in rushing to Poseidon.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

She found them. It's over.

Poseidon was the only god left in all of heaven that hadn't been searched, therefore, Hades was asked to piss off - which is equivalent to being dragged out by Amaterasu. Tongues of fire shot their way from behind her, while the sea king was already ready to use his trident, but the goddess was much more powerful than him. "Y/N's prayers are heard from miles away and Hades was stupid enough to come here right after we met. You are one more pathetic than the other"

There, Poseidon lost his mind, his brother was to remain out of the question. He attacked without a second thought, but Amaterasu dodged, striking him painfully in the side. Poseidon coughed up blood, lay on the ground as a searing pain ate his side, so Amaterasu spoke again: "Susanoo is already bringing her home, look at her again and I'll kill you, you filthy piece of shit"

And having said that, she left. "Mother!" you said jumping down from your uncle's arms to run and hug her. "My little ray of sunshine"

You were together again and that was the important thing, from now on he would never leave you or force you to go to any party. You were safe, alive, and that was just fine.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror x you #snv x reader #snv x you #request #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv poseidon #poseidon x reader #poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon

[illhaveyouforbreakfast]

Morgana confronts Arthur's army, saying they have no hope of defeating her.

"I am a high priestess of the old religion!" She snarls, casting a spell that sends a wave of destruction at the knights. It's stopped in its tracks against a shimmering wall of energy. Merlin steps forward, eyes glowing gold, hands raised.

"And I am your god."

#Emrys #listen I love Morgana she deserved so much better #but she makes a great villain bc evil woman sexy #also I just love god!merlin #esp reluctant god merlin #he tells the druids that's dumb he protests the title every time #but in the darkest hour he claims it #not for himself but for Arthur #he defeats her army #sends them scattering #turns and kneels in front of Arthur #head bowed #ready to accept whatever judgement comes his way #Arthur is currently bluescreened bc Merlin with gold eyes taking charge and being mega powerful was apparently exactly what he was into #who knew? #(the entire kingdom) #Merlin #bbc Merlin

[innerchorus]

Remembered that the word(s) mage/magus/magi has roots in Persian and decided to look it up, and whaddya know, interesting shit!

“Magi (/ˈmeɪdʒaɪ/; singular magus /ˈmeɪɡəs/; from Latin magus, cf. Persian: مغ pronounced [moɣ]) were priests in Zoroastrianism and the earlier religions of the western Iranians. The earliest known use of the word magi is in the trilingual inscription written by Darius the Great, known as the Behistun Inscription. Old Persian texts, predating the Hellenistic period, refer to a magus as a Zurvanic, and presumably Zoroastrian, priest.”

×

“The word mágos and its variants appear in both the Old and New Testaments. Ordinarily this word is translated "magician" or "sorcerer" in the sense of illusionist or fortune-teller, and this is how it is translated in all of its occurrences except for the Gospel of Matthew, where, depending on translation, it is rendered "wise man" or left untranslated as Magi, typically with an explanatory note.”

And then I was like, well, the hell is “Zurvanic”? And

“Zurvanism is a fatalistic religious movement of Zoroastrianism in which the divinity Zurvan is a first principle (primordial creator deity) who engendered equal-but-opposite twins, Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu. Zurvanism is also known as "Zurvanite Zoroastrianism", and may be contrasted with Mazdaism.”

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zurvanism

I don't know what I'll do with it but!!! Very interesting!!!!!

Oh yeah, as someone who often thinks about Team Zahhak mages vs the priesthood in Arslan Senki, I'm aware of this and it's definitely of interest. Tanaka doesn't give us a Parsian word for mage but does use some terms for priests / priestesses (kahina, priestess, see the term 'kahinat', and magpat, a high priest, likely taken from 'magu-pati' / 'mobad' the first part of which obviously shares an origin with mage/magus/magi).

In terms of ArSen, I've talked about the similarities between the priesthood and the mages before. Of course, there are differences, but it's clear that the priesthood also have an understanding of magic that goes beyond that of even the most well-educated Parsians, even though aside from communicating with the jinn they don't actually use it (except for perhaps as a countermeasure against malicious magic, though this isn't something we see directly in canon). The mages of Team Zahhak don't seem to openly define / refer to themselves as priests, but in terms of function and how they essentially view Zahhak as their god, isn't that exactly what they are? It's telling that when Kishward and Zaravant first discover the underground space used by Team Zahhak in Book 12, Kishward comments on its similarity to a temple, leading Zaravant to wonder where the 'priests' are, and the fact that it's later referred to as the 'dark temple' both in the narrative and dialogue serves to emphasise this further.

The overlapping nature of the historical term and the way that the nature, doctrine and abilities of Team Zahhak and the priesthood seem to mirror each other is something I think about a lot, especially because of Gurgin! Yes, it was inevitable that I was going to mention him in this post, but it feels very relevant because here is a character who was occupying one role, and left it in favour of the other ...but did he ever really stop being a priest?

(This is also why, although I obviously wish the eventual outcome had been different, I liked his conversation with Guiscard in Chapter 108.)

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #team zahhak #gurgin