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huicitawrites · 6 months

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Priestess of The Malevolent Shrine

Yandere! Trueform! Sukuna x Priestess! Reader

tags: @a-tiny-teez @kazusan7yanderekun @eleventhdoctorsangel

warnings: yandere (“slow-burn), violence

Part 0- prologue | Next part

The Jujutsu world is an unforgiving one. While there are folk that are spared of witnessing the true colors of this world, others have the innate talent to see ‘curses’ and manifest ‘cursed energy’.

These people are called ‘shamans’, and they fight curses.

Curses are horrid creatures, born of the negative emotions and the selfish nature of human beings. Some are mindless living creatures, others have the capability to reason and feel just as humans- which makes them all the more dangerous. However, both are driven by bloodlust and a desire to massacre and devour human beings.

Shamans make their day to day by slaying curses in an endless cycle of battle. As long as humans exist, shamans and curses are born to clash.

The Jujutsu world is a complex one. A society of the ‘blessed’ , or better said the ‘cursed’, woven with solid hierarchies and questionable alliances. There is pride and honor, yet dignity is often casted aside. What began as a quest to rid humanity of the plague of curses ended in a survival of the fittest, only a few remain loyal to the initial values of shamans.

The Jujutsu society is composed of many clans and talented individuals. Of course, there are those whose names and families stand out. In fact, there used to be four Great Jujutsu Clans.

The Gojo clan.

The Zenin clan.

The Kamo clan.

and the [L/n] clan.

There used to be. The fourth family has been scraped off the list, none other than by the most infamous and feared name in the Jujutsu World– Ryomen Sukuna.

A powerful sorcerer turned curse user and finally reborn as a curse, a traitor to humanity and a menace to curses alike, Ryomen Sukuna is rightfully feared.

A remorseless fiend with a cunning, dark mind and insatiable bloodlust. Unmatched and unrivaled, even by the now smaller elite of families of sorcerers. Any sorcerers that dare try to exorcize him end up purged in their own pool of blood, flesh and organs. Your family, of all people, would unfortunately know best.

He is the one and only King of Curses, a title he earned of his own murderous deeds, overwhelming cursed energy and exceptional cursed technique and prowess.

As he is feared, he is respected, revered even.

Sacrifices, prayers and offerings have been made in his name, heads bowed before him - a sight he enjoys as they babble their mouths and beg him not to end their miserable and pathetic, insignificant lives. Save for the mad and the strayed, no one worships him true of heart, but Ryomen Sukuna minds not.

Yet tales tell of the Priestess of The Malevolent Shrine. A beautiful young woman that carries herself with apparent grace and diligence, but at her core she is wicked and hellish- loyal in heart and truth to the Cursed King.

You, however, knew better- after all, your heart is your own. Only you would ever know the torture and suffering of being the Priestess of the Malevolent Shrine.

A/n: Here begins a yandere sukuna series I wanted to publish for a long time, enjoy!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere blog #yandere writing #yandere sukuna #yandere sukuna x reader #yandere jjk #fem reader

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ladygwyndolin · 3 months

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Writing commissions are now OPEN!

Commissions are OPEN once again! Want something written by a published author/yuri-obsessed fanfic veteran? Now's your chance to get it! I'm opening FIVE SLOTS with a max of 3000 words each, so DM here or on twitter if you want one! Details and discounts below!

WILL WRITE: fanfic, OCs, character/reader, analytical nonfiction, original concepts, furries, existing fic canons, omegaverse, kink, original stories, etc.

WILL NOT WRITE: Incest, adult/child relationships, raceplay, etc.

FAVORED SHIPS (no discount, but ones I'm very familiar with and can do most efficiently):

-Any f/f ship for Soulsborne/Elden Ring

-Suletta/Miorine (Gundam Witch)

-Noi/Nikaido (Dorohedoro)

-Rem/Misa (Death Note)

-Kyomami/Madohomu (PMMM)\

DISCOUNTS ($5/1k words off for any comm of these ships):

-Reinhard/Kircheis or any f/f ship for LOGH

-Mireille/Kirika (Noir) or Nadie/Ellis (Cazador)

-Integra/Seras (Hellsing)

-Any F/F ship for Mass Effect

-Any F/F ship for Baldur's Gate 3

-Warmonger/Shaman (For Honor)

(There are plenty of other things I'm happy to write, so don't feel limited by that list! If you're curious about whether or not I'm familiar with a piece of media, don't hesitate to shoot me a message and find out!)

Some examples of previous commissions:

SFW: "Don't Let Me Be The Last To Know" https://archiveofourown.org/works/51404692/chapters/129899833

NSFW: "Not Yet Forsaken" https://archiveofourown.org/works/49949596/chapters/126109429

Tips are appreciated but not required, and signal boosting this post is always a huge help! Feel free to lmk if you have any questions or want to reserve a slot! I look forward to writing for you :D

#writing commissions #commissions open #fanfic #writing commissions open #signal boost #writing #commission #yuri

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majinmochi · 11 months

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LGBT friendly anime/manga creator master list

Feel free to add examples in the replies if you know of any other Manga/Anime creators who have made comments or done things implying they support the LGBT community and I’ll add them to the OP (note this moreso applies to assumed heterosexual creators or creators who have not stated their personal sexuality rather than out gay creators, basically it’s an Ally list)

Kunihiko ikuhara: vehemently hates straight romance and is pushing for more and gayer romance in manga and anime

hiro mashima: deleted an offensive character in his own manga and replaced him with a more positive gay coded one

Satoru Noda: reads Bara and his manga is incredibly homoerotic

Hirohiko Araki: see Satoru Noda

Yoshihiro Togashi: has made multiple attempts to make a manga with a gay protagonist and has basically called out his publishers as homophobes for not letting hin

Hiroyuki Takei: included a Gay romance arc in his collab manga with Stan lee(that stan lee had himself alan smithee’d off of because he was a homophobe) and has a canon trans man character in Shaman King’s spin offs

Atsushi Ohkubo: became aware that Fire Force had a large gay male fanbase and started adding more fanservice of the male characters specifically for that side fanbase, has also made many comments implying other progressive personal views (and calling out other mangakas for the racist way they depict black characters)

shirahama kamome: her Manga Witch hat Atelier has several openly LGBT characters

katsura hoshino: her mangas have very heavy LGBT subtext/text and I’m told some actual canon LGBT rep Tatsuki Fujimoto: his manga prior to Chainsaw man had a trans masc character

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galoogamelady · 9 months

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A sneak peek of all my prints for Wastelands 2023! If you're interested in the art book but missed the Kickstarter, keep an eye on the page for a future Backerkit link to the shop!

#Wastelands 2023 #post apocalyptic #post apocalypse #art book #zine #Shaman Publishing

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hirukochan · 4 months

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I know you are busy right now with your fics and I really admire how brilliant they turn out to be with you working on multiple projects. I really appreciate all your hardwork and dedication and ugh, I just love your work so much.

But can I just say that I saw your comment in one of your fics about a potential forbidden Malfoy OC/Reader x Voldemort and I am really looking forward to that? I'm a huge Harriet x Voldy fan but i really love the Malfoy idea and the whole corruption concept. I have this weird imagery of them like Voldy being the snake from the apple tree in Eden and Malfoy Reader being naive, trusting, and too curious for her own good Eve.

Thank you so much!!! It means the world to hear that! I am thrilled to know so many people enjoy these silly little stories I come up with :D!

I am very much looking forward to writing that story! And I will. First I need to finish some published stories but this one is at the top of the list! I hope I'll get to it some time next year and I will be certain to post about it here too!

I don't know from what perspective I will be writing it yet.

Corruption is a main theme for the fic as I've been planning it right now. The youngest child of Narcissa and Lucius is a very sickly girl who had little influence outside her family and who has never even left her family's estate! Voldemort shamelessly preys on that and revels in the slow but steady destruction of her innocence and purity - something he never got to have.

I have a little snippet/teaser here of that fic for anyone who is interested! I have yet to find a name for the fic - because love coming up with names for stuff!!!! (not.)

Malfoy daughter X Voldemort Snippet

words: 1200

warnings: none that I can think off :D

Astrea Lucretia Malfoy knows there are certain expectations that come with being a member of the ancient and most honourable house of Malfoy. Astrea knew these expectations before she could as much as crawl. They were handed down to her from the very first beat her heart took inside her mother’s womb and Astrea would sooner throw herself off the roof of her family home than do anything that would bring shame to her house and her parents.

Astrea loves her parents.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are proud people and Astrea would never want to embarrass them. Astrea knows how to behave. She knows how to greet people and how to make pleasant conversation. Astrea can play the piano and dance and yet despite having devoted her life to trying and be the perfect heiress to her proud parents - she is not.

She is a smudge on her family’s proud family tree and there is nothing she can do.

Astrea looks down at the crimson spots on the snowy white handkerchief in her trembling hands. Steps sounding from the hallway have her hastily fold it and stuff it in her dress. The corset her governess put her into for today’s special occasion.

Time has run out. Astrea can’t escape him any longer. She knows it was an endeavour doomed from the beginning but she had to try.

Her governess opens the door, looking like a banshee coming to announce Astrea’s death, dressed in her stern black uniform. Astrea hates the sight of that uniform. Hates the black dress that makes her think of death every time she sees it because death is the last thing Astrea wants to think about it and yet it’s the first thought on her mind when she wakes up and the last when she falls asleep. Death hunts her in her dreams and she knows death is approaching steadily in reality as well. The handkerchief stuffed between her breasts and the corset bears the proof of that.

Astrea has been sick for as long as she can remember. Despite hiring the most renowned healers and researchers and even shamans nobody has been able to give the proud Malfoys and their inexhaustible vaults at Gringotts an answer as to why their only daughter is a sickly, weak child. She just is. Getting infected with the Dragonpox that would later take her severe, powerful and feared grandfather Abraxas Malfoy did little to improve her condition.

Nowadays Astrea can at least leave her bed and walk freely about the Manor but she knows that little and treasured freedom will be snatched from her the second her overprotective father learns of her relapse.

Astrea pushes her governess' hands from her hair and gets up. She ignores the lightheaded dizziness rushing through her at the swift movement. She does not let it show either.

She can wait no longer.

He is expecting to be introduced to her after all.

The Dark Lord. The most powerful wizard of all times, once believed to have vanished and now returned, reborn. Of course, Astrea knows all about him. She has been taught about him alongside her older brother Draco all her life. Taught of his greatness, his might, his goal to save wizardingkind and she has been taught of her duty to serve him.

And yet she stole from him.

The precious dress made of fairy-spun silk slides over the carpeted stairs. Astrea’s chest strains against the corset. Her governess tied it tighter today against Astrea’s protest.

Nobody here listens to her.

Nobody cares.

Oh, they all ‘care’ - they bend over backwards to delay the inevitable, forcing her to go through heinous treatments to expand her life and yet nobody cares.

Expect for her Uncle Sev perhaps. Her godfather, her father’s best friend and also on the few occasions she is allowed to practise magic, her tutor. He always has an open ear for her and a shoulder to cry on when she needs it.

But there are a few secrets she keeps even from him. The handkerchief and her impertinence. Both she carries on her person tonight. Perhaps a mistake though she seriously doubts the greatest Legilimens to ever live would need her to carry her sin with her to detect it. He’ll know the second he sees her, therefore her avoiding him. In the days before the Dark Lord’s arrival to take up residency in her family home she strategically scattered gasps and moments of pause into her demeanour and speech, then on the morning of his arrival Astrea dipped the thermometer her governess forces past her lips every morning in her teacup for a few seconds as the old hag was preparing her bath.

She spent the past week in her bed but she can’t keep this charade up for long without risking her feeble sham-freedom.

Astrea treasures her freedom above all else.

She enters the sitting room. Her parents are sitting on a sofa with Draco in between them. Uncle Sev sits on their opposite, his face as expressionless as always, swirling whiskey in his glass lazily. There, right across from Astrea is he.

The dark one.

The most powerful and dangerous man to ever walk the earth.

And Astrea not only gets to walk on the same earth at the same time, she gets to be in a room with him, to breathe the same air as him, share dinner with him.

Her chest is bursting with pride, her heart flutters in its cage of fragile bones like the many exotic birds in their cages in her room. Her father keeps bringing them home in hopes of making her smile but Astrea finds no joy in dooming others to share her fate and yet what can she do? These birds, much like her, have no chance of surviving outside their cages and yet she can’t help the occasional thought of just letting them all go, letting them try their luck and run after them, with bare feet and no shawl and wouldn’t that be worth the impending death following them? Living and if only for one second?

Astrea has never felt so alive as she does right now. Her trembling fingers grasp the edge of her dress and lift it slightly as she sinks to her knees, bowing her head at the same time. She struggles to keep her back straight and her body stiff, to not fall over and to make it all seem effortless too. Her long pale blond hair falls over her shoulder. She doesn’t even pause to remember she has never curtseyed in a dress cut like this one, doesn’t remember the corset, doesn’t realise her hair is shielding the sight from her parents and Uncles and doesn’t notice how crimson eyes darken as they skim over her, lingering on the neckline of her dress.

Astrea has grown up well-protected and so she does not realise the different ways men look at quickly coming-of-age girls like her. Merely a year away from being presented to society, something Astrea has never had to worry about as her poor health will hardly allow for such a thing her mother has neglected to prepare her, to warn her of the more unsavoury desires of some men. And still - Astrea knows more than her parents think. She is no idiot and has read nearly every book in the Manor, even those her father keeps away from her in his own library and especially his study and what she can’t find in books her friend tells her about. Her only friend.

“Rise.” The high-pitched voice caresses her skin like morning dew, the leaves of her flowers in front of her windows. Like the wings of her feathered companions, her bare arms. Astrea shudders and - against all her formidable education - she stares.

Amusement twinkles in the crimson eyes of her lord and master, dark red like the drops on her handkerchief. They assess her, gliding over her body, her dress and eventually coming to a halt on her eyes. The corner of his lipsless mouth twitches and for a second Astrea has forgotten everything. The blood, the fatigue, the guilt at lying to her parents, the weight of her sin pressed against her naked thigh beneath her dress.

Lord Voldemort looks different than she could have ever been able to picture him. Pale skin that’s scattered here and there with a bundle of scales that shimmer in the flickering light of the gas lamps on the walls, shimmering like the expensive opal jewellery her parents brought back for her from one of their trips to France once. His pupils are long, shaped like those of a snake and where there is supposed to be a nose, only slit nostrils stretch across his skin.

He is tapping his nails on the armrest of his armchair, one with a regal, high back and luxurious tropical wood, stained dark to fit the room’s aesthetic.

“It is an honour to meet you, my lord.” Astrea says, though her voice sounds strange even to her own ears. “I am saddened to have missed your arrival.”

“I am as well.” Voldemort says, his voice silky smooth, sounding so familiar and yet so strange. Though the fluttery feeling it ignites in her belly is very familiar. She has only ever felt it around her only friend…

Voldemort rises from his seat, abandoning his untouched drink on the table beside his armchair. He towers over her, taller even than her father and uncle. Astrea feels minuscule next to him, not only due to the size. She doesn’t even reach his shoulder.

“Join me? I am curious to learn more about the youngest Malfoy offspring.”

“I am an open book for my lord.” She says with a chaste incline of her head, hiding both from the intense gaze of her master and the redness spreading across her cheeks. “My lord merely needs to ask.”

The stolen leatherbound diary pressed against her thigh she accepts Voldemort’s arm and follows him into the dining room where he even pulls out her chair. No man who does not also share blood with her or is made of ink and magic has ever treated her like this. Astrea sits down and is glad for the rest, ignoring the sweat drenching her back beneath her dress and corset. She doesn’t notice the eyes wandering to her décolletage once more.

“I hope my family’s home becomes my lord well?”

“Yes.” He says, red eyes blazing. “Alas I was uncertain for a bit but it could convince me after all.”

“I am relieved.” Astrea looks up and smiles, finding it contains the same amount of joy it has when addressing it to her ink friend and all the joy it lacks when looking at her family.

“So am I.” His upper lip twitched into a crooked grin, revealing a single, sharp, long fang. The grin looks so familiar-

Astrea shakes the thought off.

Perhaps she should not have brought the diary but she can’t leave Tom in her room alone! He is her only friend and she has to keep him safe! Perhaps Voldemort does not know she has stolen it from her father’s study all those years ago in a fit of infantine anger and desire to hurt her father back for all that he is keeping her from. All she wanted was to join Draco’s birthday celebration and he forbade it. Tom said she did no wrong and that she should believe him but Astrea finds it difficult at times.

She has considered putting the diary back many times but Tom has told her how lonely he was before she saved him and one does not abandon friends! At least that’s what Tom says. Astrea has never had a friend but she trusts Tom. He would never want to harm her.

***

What a curious little creature, Voldemort thinks as he slips into the girl’s room unnoticed. She is lying in a huge bed framed by flimsy, delicate curtains, as delicate as the girl they give fleeting shelter to.

She is asleep, her lids closed, hiding the bright blue of her big eyes. Her luscious lips are slightly parted. Beneath her hand, curled into a feeble fist on top of her pillow, beside her head sits it.

The impertinence. The utter impudence to bring the stolen object to her first encounter with its rightful owner. It’s almost charming. Like an ant that believes itself so powerful it can revolt against the boot.

He will take pleasure in crushing her. In ripping her chaste innocence from her to savour it, to claim it for himself. He’ll punish her for her crime and Lucius for being so careless he has not even realised it’s missing. The object Voldemort entrusted to him. A piece of his master’s soul - though that part he is obviously unaware of. Voldemort is not so stupid as to hand over crucial information to a mere henchman like Lucius. Though his daughter will make a lovely addition to Voldemort’s bed.

He reaches out a pale hand with skeletal fingers to take the diary, reclaim his stolen Horcrux-

Voldemort is pulled away, something tugs on his mind and he falls forward, like dragged into a pensieve and he finds himself in the Slytherin common room, standing by the fireplace he once tossed the annoying cat of a classmate into. In front of him on the leather sofa lies the girl, the same girl, in the same flimsy, nearly see-through nightgown and she is asleep in his arms. In his arms.

Within the blink of an eye his younger self, looking the role of the proper Prefect he had been at the time, stands in front of him. Voldemort had never been short but his adolescent self can’t match the height of his new body and yet he doesn’t seem impressed or like he even remotely cares.

“She is mine!” He hisses in angry parseltongue, his eyes flashing red and Voldemort is forcibly expelled from the diary, such force he stumbles a step backwards, staring at the girl sleeping on his diary as peacefully as humanly possible.

Read it here

#ask #upcoming fic #Astrea x Voldemort #Astrea x Voldemort excerpt #wip ask #fanfic wip #voldemort x reader #voldemort x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x oc #dead dove fic #possibly edible tho #don't know yet #excerpt

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juicy-fruit-aka-adi · 4 days

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Embracing 1.5

A personal, spiritual and artistic manifesto of love, identity, and sexuality.

For Sabrina.

From Fever Dreams; transgender & shamanic poems. Published by Transient Press.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B5NPPPGN

#transgender #trans woman #transisbeautiful #trans #trans pride #trans poets on tumblr #trans writers #trans love #fypツ #fypシ #fyp

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transbookoftheday · 4 months

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Transgender Warriors by Leslie Feinberg

Transgender Warriors is an essential read for trans people of all ages who want to learn about the towering figures who have come before them—and for everyone who is part of the fight for trans liberation

This groundbreaking book—far ahead of its time when first published in 1996 and still galvanizing today—interweaves history, memoir, and gender studies to show that transgender people, far from being a modern phenomenon, have always existed and have exerted their influence throughout history. Leslie Feinberg—hirself a lifelong transgender revolutionary—reveals the origin of the check-one-box-only gender system and shows how zie found empowerment in the lives of transgender warriors around the world, from the Two Spirits of the Americas to the many genders of India, from the trans shamans of East Asia to the gender-bending Queen Nzinga of Angola, from Joan of Arc to Marsha P. Johnson and beyond.

#transgender warriors #leslie feinberg #transmasc #transfem #nonbinary #trans book of the day #trans books #queer books #bookblr #booklr

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vintagerpg · 11 months

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The cover and the title of this book — The Red Book of Magic (2020) — is perhaps a bit misleading, implying to my eye that it focuses entirely on the magic of the red moon and the Lunar Empire. The name actually refers to an in-universe work that predates the Red Goddess (Glorantha is a confusing place sometimes). So instead of a collection of Lunar magic, this book is actually, like the Grand Grimoire of Cthulhu Mythos Magic for Call of Cthulhu, a collection of all the spells ever published for RuneQuest. That’s actually a good deal handier than a handbook dedicated Lunar magic!

This is not so simple an undertaking as you might expect. There are…well, RuneQuest’s magic has changed a lot across its editions. Low practical, practical magic, called Battle Magic in RQ2 is called Spirit Magic here — everyone has some potential access to it and it mostly resembles the buff and debuff spells from D&D. The modern RQ system basically uses the RQ3 version of Spirit Magic.

Rune Magic is more complicated (and far more powerful)! This used to be tied to the cults and gods and was a real pain in the butt (which made a certain sense, considering its potential power level) but for this edition, the system has been completely reworked, tying Rune Magic to a character’s personal (percentile) alignment to given Runes. This is simpler, more flexible and, for this book, I imagine required quite a lot of conversion work.

There is magic stuff that isn’t in here (Shamanism lacks spells, while Sorcery’s spells are open ended acts of improvisation — and it’s absence is slightly ironic, because I think in the lore, the Red Book was written by a sorcerer), and I would like a book or two on them, for as the game’s definitive book on Rune and Spirit Magic, it is, well, definitive! Lots of very nice art, too.

#RPG #TTRPG #Tabletop RPG #roleplaying game #D&D #Dungeons & Dragons #Chaosium #RuneQuest #Red Book of Magic

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anemonelovesfiction · 3 months

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Temper

Tonowari X Ronal

Warnings ⚠️: Arguments leading to smut, NSFW content, P in V, fingering, Dom Tonowari and Sub (ish) Ronal

Thank you to @ana-maria456913 for requesting this; it took a bit to finally publish it but thanks to your brilliant mind I have conjured this up for you, I’m hoping you as well as many others enjoy the work.

Secondary Warning ‼️: This work is NOT proofread, I’m feeling under the weather and was surprised I even managed to write it… don’t be afraid to let me know where a mistake might be, I appreciate you all!

Translation Station

Olo’eyktan: Clan leader

Tsahik: Spiritual leader; shaman; Olo’eyktan’s spouse

Eywa: The great mother (The Na’Vi goddess/creator)

Marui: Home

Tewng: Loincloth

Ma’Paysyul: My waterlily

Rutxe: Please

Ma’Muntxate: My wife; my female mate

Paysyul: Waterlily

Tsurak: A warriors mount (For water Na’Vi)

Sran: Yes

Kehe: No

Word Count: 2.5k

“You have heard what he has said. He took the blame for everything, that family has caused nothing but trouble the moment they arrived.” The woman sashay’s her hips as she walks down a hill of sand making her way toward the netted walkway leading to their marui at the center of the village. They wanted to be close to everyone, the plans had included the biggest marui- the one that would belong to the Olo’eyktan, his Tsahik, and their family- to be set near the heart of the people.

The woman doesn’t even acknowledge that her husband had held the curtain open for her to pass through, in the case where she would nod or verbally give her appreciation, there was tension making itself comfortable instead.

“You know as well as I do that our son was at fault, he is aware of the rule of hunting away from the reef, and in the instance that he saw Lo’ak attempt to leave, it should have been his priority -as the eldest son and next in line for taking my place- to guide him back to the reef. Not to make a show out of everything and leave the boy stranded when they aren’t as familiar with our home as we are.” Tonowari’s timber voice resonated and almost made Ronal wince, had it not been for the woman’s anger she would have apologized to her husband and attempted to see his point of view, but she was angered.

“Those children are not our people. They ran when they couldn’t control their pests, now they hide amongst strangers, making one mess after another, they do not belong here.” She stated and waved her hand as if the conversation was done with, not wanting her husband to lengthen this conversation any longer.

The truth is, she was nearing what would have been her heat cycle and she wanted it to go through without a hitch, but considering they were housing a different kind of Na’Vi that needed to be watched, her days have become stressful. Heats are normal for every Na’Vi and it’s mostly started when partners are mated before Eywa, once the woman becomes pregnant, what should have been her heat cycles just become a couple days of being incredibly horny- not for the purpose of producing an heir but to strengthen the bond between parents before the baby arrives- Eywa outdid herself with her own creation.

“Do you hear yourself?” He states as a dry scoff leaves his mouth, a look of disbelief on his face, what is usually a soft smile spread on his lips lies the look of a warrior ready to attack if need be, his face hard like stone, and his frown deepened to show his distaste for his wife’s words.

“Our son is at fault for what happened, you are aware of his tendencies, Lo’ak taking responsibility has thrown us in a whirlwind of confusion, but we both know the fault is not his.” Tonowari stated as he bit back his own anger, the last thing he wanted was to lose control of his emotions on his wife, not that he would do anything terrible, just that he’d be unable to forgive himself if he ever yelled at her. He was beyond the point of seething, and if it were possible, smoke would have been streaming out his ears.

“This discussion is over.” The tsahik speaks as she turns her back on her husband, not bothering to give him the attention he so clearly had two seconds ago, she was beyond frustrated because she knew her son was at fault, but they had to present themselves as a perfect family, and if that meant letting the forest boy take fault for going out of the reef unsupervised, so be it.

“It is not over.” Tonowari is quick to grasp the back of Ronal’s neck, hand not encircling the entire length of it, but enough to get her attention. As he feels her tense up he uses that bit of distraction to force his hand to turn his wife back to facing him, a wide eyes Ronal staring back at him. Without missing a beat he takes a step forward, hand still on the back of her neck, forcing her to take a step backward until the backs of her calves where being tickled by the frayed edges of the marui’s wall. Her expression is quick to change as she is ready to say something relatively rude until Tonowari speaks.

“As your Olo’eyktan, I am not granting you the permission to speak, and as your husband, kneel.” He states the last word venomously, his mouth in the position ready to growl at his mate for not having followed his instruction, one of his fangs barred at her.

Ronal is quick to close her mouth as she feels the grip on the back of her neck loosen, his hand still holding her there as a sense of control, she knew she had to follow what he said now, given his attitude- but the wet patch in her tewng wasn’t helping either, it’s like she almost forgot she was going through her faux heat. The events of the day had clearly clouded her internal calendar, but she knew she had a few seconds to listen to her husband or else he’d-

“That’s it, over my thigh. Now.” He is quick to demand, the warmth his stable hand had provided on the back of her neck was gone, and the breeze of the ocean air had somehow made its way into their home, causing her spine to shiver. She knows not to discard her tewng before being told to do so, and he is gentle while she settles over his legs, but he left room for her bump to fit through comfortably without pressing on her, and for this she was grateful.

“I am disappointed in how you have acted, Ronal, the children behave better than you.” He mumbles as his hand instinctively settles over her pert ass, rubbing one of her cheeks lovingly, she immediately bites her lip as she feels his hand leave the comfort of her ass, tensing up as she prepares for the worst, only to feel his hand returning the loving gesture onto her second cheek, a wry chuckle leaving him as he knew what she was expecting.

“Why is it hard to admit you’re wrong, ma’paysyul?” He asks tenderly and she only moves her head to look at him, seeing through his faux smile, but remembering his words about not being able to speak.

“Must be perfect.” She signs only to feel a stinging sensation on her bum, knowing she was being reprimanded for her answer.

“We make mistakes, we learn from them, we cannot be perfect all the time. That is reserved for Eywa.” He mumbles as he swats his hand back down onto her bum once more, a moan escaping her lips, mouth hanging open as she pants a couple of times, feeling her body warm up.

“You like this punishment, hmm?” He asks sweetly as he continues rubbing on her bum to help cool down the heat of the sting caused by his heavy hand, knowing he wasn’t imagining the movement of her hips to attempt to relieve her aching core, her smell starting to leak through the tewng and tantalizingly dance its way into his nose.

“I’ll take this-“ He manages to snake his hand through the weaves of the skirt she had been wearing, sliding his finger on the wet patch on her tewng, and sliding it down to expertly find her clit, slightly pushing his finger into it as he rubs slow circles.

“-As a yes.” He finishes his sentence as she moans loudly, the sound coming from her making his ears flutter slightly, wanting nothing more than to fill their marui with her desperate moans, begging him to let her come, only for him to edge her one more time.

“Such a needy thing, always ready for me, but your attitude makes it hard for me to want to reward you.” Tonowari talks to himself once more, noticing the slight dip in his mate’s ears, knowing she wanted to respond but refused to answer to prevent herself from getting punished for not having listened to her Olo’eyktan, of course he knew this, but he also wanted to see how many lines he could cross before she finally spoke.

He delights in the fact that her hardened bud slips easily past his fingers, even without him having to dip his fingers into her tewng, knowing she was undeniably wet, biting his own lip as he feels his own length harden. The melodious moans of his wife resounding within their home, her slick starting to make his finger feel sticky, meaning she was getting wetter by the second.

“Ahh, rutxe, rutxe!”

And all it took to cross that boundary was for him to shove two of his thickest fingers into her awaiting -and currently fluttering- cunt, and thats all it took for Ronal to finally break her silence and speak, even though the two of them knew she wasn’t allowed to. He would have rather stuck something else into her fluttering cunt but he was too busy watching her hips attempt to move back onto his fingers just to get herself any kind of relief, and at the angle that she was laying on his lap, it would have been impossible for him to stop her hips from rutting back into his hand.

His quick thinking had him pull his fingers out in a lightning quick reaction, bringing his palm to strike the cheek closest to him, Ronal sucking in a deep breath as it happens, the slick from her cunt starting to leak out like a river, a thick gush of liquids fills the air and Tonowari pauses for a second and notices that his mates thighs are wet.

“What else are you needing to be punished for, Ma’muntxate?” He asks rhetorically as his fingers find their way back into her warmth, feeling his own jaw clench at the need of wanting to desperately sink himself inside of her, knowing deep down thats where he belonged.

“First speaking rudely to me, second for speaking, and third for releasing your sweet nectar without my permission, what are you thinking?” He surprisingly asks smoothly, no waver in his voice.

“I am sorry. I do not like drama, you know this-“ She hisses as his thick fingers continue working their way in her slippery cunt, the feeling overwhelmingly pleasurable for her, she was close already but knew she had to hold back on her approaching orgasm. Although it was proving to be difficult as her sensitivity from having squirted over her own thighs and the emotions from earlier having tired her out a bit.

“I am aware of what there is to need to know about my wife.” He stated as a warning, fingers starting to work themselves faster into her cunt. “But I do not recall giving you the permission to speak either time you have felt the need to open your ungrateful mouth.” He removes his fingers from her sopping pussy and spanks her again, this time no orgasm having come from it, but instead, a lustful moan.

“Tonowa-“ Another spank landed on her bum, making its neighbor jiggle from the force, a broken moan escaping her mouth, a gasp being sucked in.

“Hush, woman.” He was starting to crack as he sounded irritated that his wife wasn’t catching on to him telling her she needed to stop talking. He’s quick to slip her off his lap and place her on the floor on all fours, the woman frantically turns her head back, thinking that their fun time was over, only to see her husband dip his hand aggressively into his own tewng, and pulling out his large cock, dripping in precome, large bulbous head already sporting a dark purple color.

He doesn’t hesitate in lining himself up with her hole, making sure to collect as much of her slick as he could in such short notice, licking his lips right as he sinks his big head past her entrance and feeling his entire body shudder. His chest pressing up to her back as he continues sliding his hips into her slower than ever before, Ronal knowing not to call out to him as she wanted to desperately come, but talking could prevent her from being able to.

“You feel divine paysyul, every time I enter, you take my breath away-“ A moan leaves his own lips and straight into her ear, making her throbbing pussy react by contracting once around his organ, biting her lip as it happens and feeling her nipples rub against the marui floor through the lined beads of her top, moaning at the sensation. Tonowari’s hands caging her in and keeping her still for him but its not like she’d attempt an escape from the pleasure he had yet to give her.

He hisses himself once he reaches the hilt of her pussy, his balls squeezing up against his body to confirm that this is where he was content, Ronal’s hips slightly pushing back to take more of her husband in if possible and wanting nothing more than his come to fill her needy hole.

“Hmm?” Tonowari asks her and she opens her eyes, blinking several times after having missed whatever instruction he had stated, or question he might have asked, she wasn’t sure.

“I am sorry, Ma’Olo’eyktan, I wa-was lost in the pleasure-“ Another moan leaves her hips as he brings his cock out and rams himself inside of her.

“I do not like repeating myself.” He grumbles in her ear before biting it gently, nibbling it at the slightest and watching- and feeling- his wife begin to shake as a high pitched whine leaves her mouth, a desperate attempt at making him move by attempting to ride him in her current position was a mistake as he lifts himself off of her, without pulling himself out, grasping his wife’s braid and wrapping it in his arm the way he would the leash for the tsurak, and giving it a tug, causing her head to pull back, eyes making contact with his.

He starts thrusting his hips in one fluid motion, Ronal’s eye contact ceasing as her eyes roll to the back of her head, he uses his other hand to slap her cheek lightly to attempt to get her to focus.

“Will you apologize to the new members of our clan once we are finished?” He asks sternly, continuing to thrust into her fluttering cunt, knowing she was close and feeling his orgasm nearing.

“S-s-sra-an.” She stutters through her words as her back is arched further the more Tonowari tugs on her braid, his cock hitting wonderful new spots inside of her and giving her newer sensations than the previous time they’d had angry sex.

“And not fight me about punishing our son for clearly being in the wrong?”

“Kehe, no fighting.”

“Then cum.”

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut #avatar the way of water #ronal smut #tonowari smut #tonowari x ronal #ronal x tonowari #my first non-Y/n work

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