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#down with the church of the singing choir
entities-of-posts · 2 months
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Why are all of your links in pinned post broken I'm frothing at the mouth let me in let me see the secrets let me in let me in let me in let me in let me in
I have no idea, they work for me, but they don’t work for some people… you can try manually searching for the tags which title the arcs, and either scroll to the end and then read back up or tack on the chrono function yourself. It’s build into the links, which might be what doesn’t work for you. Recurring characters also have their own tags.
I’ll tag this post with all the arc tags, so you can click on them, as the search function is terrible.
Of course, a lot of the lore is actually on discord now!
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queenlucythevaliant · 9 months
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Why can't the churches with choirs and pipe organs and stained glass windows have a bit more theological rigor??
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carewyncromwell · 9 months
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🏠&✈️ for Carewyn (moodboard ask game)
🏠 HOUSE — my muse's family/hometown: Liverpool, England, UK
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✈️ AIRPLANE — my muse's dream travel destination(s): Vienna, Austria
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I loved these prompts so much, ma cherie, thank you!! xoxoxo
Character Aesthetic Ask!
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match-your-steps · 6 months
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unpopular opinion but I hate michael buble's christmas album. least favorite album ever in the world that I can think of. I would prefer objectively bad music, christmas or not, and I am not kidding or exaggerating, nor was that a hard choice to make
#ok it's true that I do not like a lot of recorded christmas music#like the kind you might hear on the radio#because it feels so arbitrary and like a capitalistic grab#which is not a 'true spirit of christmas' thing actually#i just. they're so inauthentic.#like are you singing these songs to make money or because you like them?#idk and tbh it feels like you're just showing off#so no thanks#and a lot of other songs feel like. you just put christmas in there to say this a christmas song but it's literally not#jingle bells make this a christmas song but they also really do not#having said that I feel like I shouldn't be making sweeping statements because#uncle pat by the amoeba people literally says christmas once and talks about eggnog in the chorus and there are jingle bells but i love it#I like singing christmas music like. at church in the congregation. feels better that way#but this does not mean I like listening to recorded choir arrangements. I do not except if it's fun then I am much more likely to#heck I liked being in choir significantly more than michael buble's christmas album and I hated being in choir#anyways yeah I would rather listen to camron crowe (61 monthly spotify listeners but it used to be like 4 and that was the right number tbh#(sorry for you camron crowe but your music is not very good and there is a reason that career did not take off)#but yeah I'd rather listen to his stuff on repeat for like a week straight than have to sit down#and actually listen to michael buble's christmas album more than like two and a half times#I think that's my limit#so. yeah#those are my strong feelings about michael buble's christmas album#michael buble#michael buble's christmas album#christmas music#unpopular opinion#music#camron crowe#bad music#objectively bad music
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dumbbitchgalore · 26 days
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Part 2: Just thinking about old man Price with an erectile dysfunction 💕
Continuation of this
Period hormones cause me to become horny by the weridest shit
Head bobbing up and down as her precum-mixed salivia dribbled down his cock, down his balls and onto the lust-stained bedsheets. He tries his hardest to not give away any signs of pleasure or satisfaction, it'll only rile her up more and cause her to do more work in fulfilling his contentment. He didn't want that. He shouldn't want that. His cherished angel shouldn't have to please him, that is not her job.
John was a man who reveled in the pleasing her and making her cum over and over again. Her cum-drunk expression was a vice he made sure to indulge in, soaking in the portrait of orgasmic gratification on her face as she is rendered speechless. Her breathy pants and soft sighs brought a salacious glimmer to his eyes. Oh his oh so perfect sweetheart.
She takes him all the way to the hilt of his soft cock, gagging slighty. She breathes through her nose to let an sliver of oxgyen to her brain, allowing her to think about how to best to make her love feel the appreciated. At the sound of her slight keck, John tries to push her head away from him. But his darling protests, moving his hand away before it can tangle into her hair and pull her off his cock. She whines. There is no way in hell John is going to stop her from doing what she wants to do and right now she wants to shower his dick with all the love in the world.
She suck his tip before letting go with a 'pop' noise.
"Please let me do this. I wanna make you feel good like how you make me feel good all the time. I want this, John." She mutter softly, nuzzling her cheek against his stupid, fat cock.
Before he can protest, she gives his head a few kitten licks. John gasps, choking back a moan that threaten to escape his mouth. Pressing soft, sweet kissess all over his limp dick, she giggles softly to herself. God, she loved this. Loved him, loved worshipping ever single part of him no matter how well it works. Her love deserves to feel good.
She moans softly as she licks and sucks the tip. She fondales with his balls enjoying how they feel in her hand. Her jaw begins to tire as she suckles his dick. Her eyes glossy, submerged with ecstacy as she looks up at him through her lashes.
John looks down at her. Fuck, she's hot. Hot and hardworking. He feels bad but knows that he can't stop his girl from persuing her ministrations so he lets her continue, no longer protesting.
He throws his head back, covering his eyes with the back of his forearm. He groans softly, singing her praise like the choir of a church caroling wholeheartedly. Shit, this feels good, too good.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He thinks to himself.
A familiar feeling returns, one that he hasn't felt in a long time. His insides coil up, threatening to snap at a moment's notice. She feels it too. His leaky cock on the tip of her tongue, salty yet sureal. She savours the taste as her work comes to fruition.
Snap.
A gutteral moan leaves his mouth as he arches his back. The unknown feel of release washing over his aching body as John's back slightly arches. She feels into too. It invades her mouth, unexpected but welcoming. She moans softly, not caring about the bitter, pungent taste. She did it, she can't believe she actually did it.
Coming down from cloud 9, John looks down at her. She still has her pretty, plump lips wrapped around his head confused as to what happened. Hell, he's surprised too.
She lets go of his cock, her mouth empty as the only thing remains is the remnants of his cum on her tongue. His still limp cock rests against his abdomen, glittering in the leftovers of his orgasm. Her eye's glimmer in wonderment as if she's opened the Pandora Box.
Panting softly, she looks up at him as she wipes her lips. She chuckles softly, giddy with excitement.
"You liar. I thought you said that I couldn't make you come."
(What the hell did I write? lol)
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nyursi · 5 months
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘!
꒰ † ੭‎ㅤNSFW 18+ㅤ(MDNI)...  well, the favonius church's choir had a spectacular ensemble. one stood out in particular.ㅤノㅤnot proofread.
ᡴꪫ‎ TODAY'S SPECIAL!ㅤkaeya alberich.
WOULD YOU LIKE SPRINKLES? (っω=`)ㅤm!rdr, religious themes,  kaeya jacks off to you cause he's horny, drabble.
                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝
Call it irony or whatever, but the fact that Kaeya still attended church while drunk and out of his mind was pretty funny. Of course, considering that Sister Rosaria was no better than the Cavalry Captain— Kaeya let go of all his guilt and entered the Holy grounds anyway.
Besides, spending an hour in here was all worth it, as Kaeya had his eye on a special someone.
You were close with Barbara, and a few months younger than Jean, so your relationship with the sisters certainly helped you settle in Mondstadt. A long time ago, when you first came to the humble city, Kaeya was oddly pleased to see a feline roaming the streets. Save for Diona, who was too busy handling the Cat's Tail.
And you can call him weird, obsessive, strange. But can you blame him? With your honey-toned voice constantly singing during Mass— who could resist the urge to hear more? Truly, locals adored you. Even if there was a whole ensemble in the stands, it was you who stood out and took the spotlight. Kaeya was no better.
It was just another day for him. Rosaria was his close friend, and since she paid for the booze he drank last time, he owed her. And thus, when she asked to accompany her at the Church, Kaeya begrudgingly complied. Really— he was so ready to take a seat and get some shut eye. They arrived a few minutes earlier, so what harm could be done?
Not 5 minutes passed and he was already awoken. "Uhm, excuse me...?" A soft voice he heard. Gentle shaking on his shoulder. Kaeya hummed, not ready to wake up just yet. Nonetheless, he opened his eye, ready to throw some passsive agressive remark at whoever dared to stop his slumber.
But shit.
"Sir? Mass is starting soon, it would be very disrespectful to sleep through it!" Not a word made it through Kaeya's ears, too busy listening to the angelic melody that suddenly praised him when he looked at you. Clothing that those in the Church wore daily, something so innocent, pure and white, somehow became unholy with the way it clung to your figure. He couldn't help the way his eyes trailed down, down, down, til' they landed on your shorts.
Tight and snug. They barely looked like shorts with how high up they were. But Kaeya wasn't complaining— not at all.
And fuck— was that a thigh belt? Kaeya gulped, seeing the shining vision dangling on your thigh. To keep himself from any more thoughts, he quickly looked up at you.
Ah. You were staring.
Did he look weird? Was it obvious he eyed you like some treat? As if he were a kid, drooling for candy? Or did you find him handsome? Attractive like he did you.
"Ah, my apologies. Thank you for waking me up." He chuckled, scratching his scalp as if he were guilty. You crossed your arms and pouted, lips puckered and Kaeya had an urge to suck on them. "It's alright, but please be more attentive. We're starting soon." You reminded, before turning around, heading to the stands.
And if you felt a burning glare on your behind, Kaeya prayed you believed it to be your imagination.
Safe to say that first interaction guaranteed many more to come. Kaeya was greedy, a selfish man who had not one, but two addictions.
Alcohol was just his mistress.
So he kept coming. Anytime he could, Kaeya attended Mass like he was a Saint. Rosaria called him crazy, but he couldn't deny that claim. He would go mad if there was not a single glimpse he could catch of the cute singer.
He found it funny how something so innocent managed to catch the attention of a dirty man.
One time, you made a particular face when the sun got caught in your eyes. Your eyes squinted, lips pulled in a small frown, and Kaeya imagined that to be the face you made if he ever came on it.
Yeah. He was fucked.
At some point his right hand became sore with his nightly activities, accompanied by the repeating scenarios in his mind that fueled his desire even more. Kaeya couldn't wait any sooner.
He wanted you. He needed you.
Kaeya attended the next days Mass, clean as ever. As if he didn't spend last night fucking his fist to you, until the sun rose. Groaning and wishing that it was you around his cock, not his left hand. (He had to alternate.)
He couldn't handle it. Every time he saw you, thoughts would pop up in his head in the most random places. He walks past you in the streets? All of a sudden he imagines breeding you on the cobble path. A glimpse of your cat ears from afar? He dreams of tugging and biting at them. The worst one that ever happened was at Church.
Kaeya frequented the place so much that you eventually grew a friendship. Greeting him whenever you saw the tall, sunkissed, eye-patch wearing man. One time, while waiting for Mass to start, you actually sat down beside him to talk. He had to fight off a boner.
One of the Deacons dropped the long candle, and you, ever kind and pure, stood up to get it for them. Soon as you bent down, Kaeya shamelessly eyed your butt. He always did that, but what caught his eye were your cute little balls, snug against the thin fabric of your shorts.
Either they were that tight, or you decided to go commando.
Kaeya hoped it to be the latter.
Not only was he blessed with the sight of your buttocks, full and plump, but your round balls too. Kaeya wanted to pinch them. Squeeze, suck, fondle, put them in his mouth— he didn't care. As long as he got to touch your sweet cheeks too.
If holding in a boner while taking to you was hard, this was a lot more extreme. Not to mention your cute tail; that dangled and swayed, urging him to pull on it.
"Oh dear! Sir Kaeya! You're bleeding!" You exclaimed, hurriedly taking out a cloth napkin from your pocket. Wiping at the blood that dribbled down his nose. "Are you alright? Perhaps you should miss out on today. Please get some rest."
He didn't even fight back, too shell-shocked at the fact he got a fucking nosebleed from that. But hey, at least he has your napkin!
And if he returns it to you the next day; sticky, crumpled, and wet? Don't question it.
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vanillaclaws 2024. do not repost.
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togrowoldinv · 10 months
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It Is Well
Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
You’re the choir director at Wanda’s church. One afternoon after church, your relationship with her changes
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Reader has a penis but no pronouns are used, kissing, cursing, sex in a church oops, oral (W receiving), blowjob, Wanda being a milf
Note: I have no explanation, just love for milf Wanda. Enjoy!
Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist
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There are a lot of reasons that you love your new job. One is that you get to live out your passion for singing and help others in the process. The second reason is that it pays well. The church was desperate for a new choir director, so they were willing to pay you pretty much whatever you wanted.
But the reason that you love your job the most is that you’ve met Wanda Maximoff.
Wanda is your favorite choir member by far. She is always punctual, she sings beautifully, and she flirts with you.
At least, you think she’s flirting with you. She is always making an excuse to touch your arm as she walks by you, or she’ll stay late to help you work on arrangements.
“Hey there!” Wanda says as she enters the choir suite today.
“Wanda, how are you?” You ask.
“I’m doing mighty fine. And you?”
“Honestly, I could use some help,” you admit.
Wanda nods seriously and sets her purse down. She sits next to you at the piano. You try not to notice how good she looks in her button up shirt.
“How can I help, darlin’?” She asks.
“I’m trying to make this transition sound right, but I just can’t.”
“Play it for me,” Wanda says.
You begin to play the song and Wanda sings along quietly. Her voice floats through the room like a sweet songbird. When you get to the transition, you stop. It still hasn’t come to you.
Wanda touches your hand and places your fingers on a few different keys than the ones you’ve been trying.
“It is well,” she begins singing. She nods for you to continue playing. “It is well with my soul.”
It’s the perfect transition.
“Wanda Maximoff you are a genius!” You say. Wanda hugs you tightly and smiles. “We’re ready for the service now.”
“I’ll get my robe on,” Wanda says.
She stands up from the piano and takes her robe out of the closet. Somehow, she looks even better in it than in her regular clothes.
“Looking very nice, ma’am,” you compliment Wanda.
“Thank you,” Wanda replies. She walks closer to you. “Can I admit something to you?”
“Yeah- of course.”
Wanda is just inches from you. You smell her perfume.
“I’ve always thought these robes were kind of silly, but then I saw you in one,” Wanda says. “And now I think they are very flattering.”
Wanda grins before she steps back and leaves the suite. You stand there stunned by her words. She was definitely flirting with you this time.
You try to shake it off and go lead the choir during service. It goes without a hitch. The only time you almost miss a cue is when Wanda smiles at you. It’s really that easy for her to make you fold.
After the service, you go back to the choir suite. No one else is in there when you walk in, but soon Wanda comes in and shuts the door behind her.
“You should leave that on,” Wanda says, gesturing to your robe.
“Are they calling for an encore out there?” You joke.
Wanda crosses the room quickly. She places a hand on your forearm and the other comes to rest on your cheek. Your breath hitches at her movements.
“I’m very attracted to you,” Wanda says. “Are you attracted to me?”
“Wanda, I- um- it’s not that simple,” you say. Of course, your answer is yes.
“I think it’s simple. You’re absolutely stunning,” Wanda says.
“You’re beautiful, Wanda. But we can’t.”
Wanda pouts her perfect lips. You fight the urge to lean forward and kiss them.
“Would you really deny me this pleasure, sweetheart?” She asks.
“No,” you mumble.
“What was that?”
“No ma’am.”
She grins wickedly and places her lips on yours in a long, slow kiss. Her hand on your face slips into your hair as she deepens the kiss. Her other hand takes yours and places it over one of her breasts. Even through the robe and her clothing, you can feel the breast.
You kiss until neither of you can breathe. And then you drop to your knees in front of Wanda. She lifts her robe up over her hips. Taking your time, you take off her skirt and let her panties fall to the floor.
“Make me feel good, baby,” Wanda says.
You place kisses against her creamy thighs. She shivers with every touch, and you know her husband doesn’t touch her like this. Wanda moans when you lick through her folds, gathering her wetness with your tongue.
“I’ve thought about this for so long,” Wanda says. “About you on your knees worshipping me in this church.”
“Fuck,” you mumble against her.
Wanda’s hand comes to your hair to encourage you to continue. You never want to stop. You take her clit in your mouth and her hips stutter. In a few more moments, Wanda falls apart at your touch. She has to reach for the nearest chair to regain her balance.
“Holy fuck, Wanda,” you say when you emerge from between her legs.
“Mmm, come here,” she says. She lifts you up by your shoulders and you kiss her.
Wanda lets out the softest moans at the taste of herself on your tongue. She wants more. You let her take control, pushing you down to the ground again.
This time she lifts your robe up your body to reveal your hips and something she didn’t expect. Your cock is hard, and Wanda immediately takes it into her mouth. She sucks until you’re coming into her mouth.
“Oh fuck, y/n,” Wanda says. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“Ride my cock, baby?” You ask her.
Wanda nods and settles herself over you. She aligns her center with your cock, slipping onto it with ease. She is so wet from getting you off. The woman rides your cock as she moves her hands over your abdomen. You can see yourself slipping in and out of her even with your choir robe bunched up at your chest.
“Fuck, Wanda, I’m going to come,” you say as you feel yourself getting close.
“Me too,” she groans out. Her eyes are closed with pleasure. She shouts as she comes, and you spill into her.
Wanda lets you stay inside her until she’s come down from her high. You kiss her when she slips off of you and lays on the ground next to you.
“We should’ve done that months ago,” you say.
“Agreed,” Wanda says. She chuckles. “Can you go again?”
You look down at yourself. It’s unlikely but you’re willing to try.
“Maybe if we kissed for a while first? Or you let me get you off first?”
“By all means, go ahead,” Wanda says.
You laugh and turn over to kiss Wanda again. Lifting her robe off this time, you pay close attention to her breasts. And you bring her pleasure again. She does the same for you.
Wanda is definitely why you love your job, especially now.
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wakandama2 · 1 month
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I wanna Black Carrie-inspired movie, real rep for us stuck in a white country town Black girls. So, walk wit me real quick-
Locational Background: We still set in the late 70's. Set in multiple rural towns, the main town being Chamberlain, Missouri when the meat of the story takes place. We are firmly in the upper south/Midwest tho.
Our Carrie inspired MC is named Alanna(will be relevant and fucked up later)
Alanna's Mama, Evette, is a Black white passing woman and was the daughter of the town's Black tailor and his wife a music teacher and a righteous choir leader for the Black church who was known for a 'voice of power' that was known to shake the church foundations and make people run around the building in glory.
This gift is passive in Evette leaving her with just a beautiful singing voice. Evette's voice and virtuous image and ways draws the attention of a traveling white Evangelistic-leaning cult leader, Alan Hobbs (he's kinda Jim Jones esc) who whisked her off to join his 'missionary' in order to travel around the country to warn of the rapture and demand repentance of sinners.
He unofficially marries her and gets her pregnant and when Alanna comes out looking very visibly Black, he tries to kill her as a baby because he would expose him as being 'sinful'. Alanna's gift activates through her cries and controls Evette's body and makes her stop Alan from killing their baby. Evette screams in despair and her own gift kills him. Evette's feverish (and kinda delusional) faith of what Alan taught her is the only thing that keeps her together when she has to hide his murder and head back to Chamberlain, taking care of Alanna the whole way.
When Evette gets back to her hometown and relays the story to her mother in distress. Her mother is relieved and reveals that the women in their family having Powerful Voices is a gift from their greatest grandmother as she had been blessed to use it to protect her daughters and sisters during slavery. She also confirms to Evette that Alanna's voice has the potential for Powers Grander than the last four generations of women.
Evette skews this information with the teachings of "women's sinful nature" that Alan had taught her and concluded that the gift is actual evil and a curse of sin. She convinces herself that Alanna is the sign of the devil's return and it's her job to quell her.
Evette cuts herself off from her family (especially her maternal side) and runs away to raise Alanna by herself in Chamberlain, pretending that Alanna is actually her niece and taking a public vow of silence (both for her faith and her misplaced guilt for killing Alan) She uses the tailoring skills her father taught her to work as a laundress and commission dress maker for the local tailor.
Between baby to 15 years old for Alanna, It's very much like the movies, Evette being incredibly strict and abusive in teaching Alanna that simply being a woman, was being sinful and to bundle down her emotions because having a temper or tone, to be anything other than submissive and quiet was just as sinful as womanhood. This lesson was particularly to stop Alanna from activating her powers again. There is an additional impact of insecurity she puts into Alanna with her looking Black and being one of the very few colored girls in the town.
Like Carrie, our poor Alanna gets her period for the first time during gym and none of her classmates, besides her only friend an equally shy Creek girl named Talia, are kind to her about it. Her distress makes the showers freak out and ground shake Talia is the only one that calms Alanna enough for the gym teacher to intervene and actually be of use. The gym teacher calls Evette to the school to get Alanna and explain menstruation to her.
After explaining how menstruation is all Eve's fault to Alanna, Evette has her take a cold bath and to read the story of Adam and Eve over and over again. During her bath time as she reads, rage fills Alanna as she gathers feelings that the biting of the apple and getting kicked out of Eden was a trick done on Eve, not her being sinful and selfish. This jolts her powers and with an angry whisper about how wicked the snake was, Alanna suddenly heats the bath water to a temperature that helps with her cramps and is intrigued.
Cue her being excused to the library that entire week. When Talia sneaks out to join her one day she relays all her questions and findings to Talia. Talia confirms that yes, it is NOT normal to heat water or cause quakes with her voice. Period of not. Talia explains how she was an early bloomer like her mother and grandmother and inspires Alanna to look into her mother's side to get explanations.
Now cue Alanna and Talia hijinks as they secretly research and test Alanna's powers for the rest of the week and weekend. Alanna finds all the letters her grandmother had set to Evette trying to convince her that their gift is a good thing and that she is a good woman. Reveling the deep history and various ways the powers of their voice can manifest. Alanna actually contacts her grandmother (call or letters idk what was more efficient for the 70s lol)
During all of this, the other girls are still hazing Alanna (and y'know being both macro and micro racist in their bullying). This comes to a head that next week where the prank they do gets Alanna nearly drowned during swim day.
This causes rage to rear up in Evette that she hadn't felt in years and she lays into the principal and gym teacher to actually give the girls repercussion for their actions. Leading to the three ringleaders to get suspended for a week and banned from prom that following week. They also have to write an essay about kindness.
One of the girls (uh, let's call her Cynthia) actually learns that damn, I was being a mean racist bitch for no damn reason, this girl hasn't done anything to me to warrant this treatment. She becomes cordial with Talia, then works with her Football Captain brother to put Alanna on the radar of the Black boy, Adam, and help him to woo Alanna.
At the same time this outburst of herself and near reemergence of her powers scares Evette and she confronts Alanna to see if it was actually her daughter's powers that caused it (just like at her birth). Alanna says no it was Evette's own and this causes her mother to break down and force a confession from Alanna that yes, she knows about their gift of a Powerful Voice and had been writing letters/calling her grandmother for information.
The two get into basically a battle of Powerful Voice in the argument, nearly causing a damn tornado to hit the town. Alanna proves that she has the greater voice just like her grandmother predicted (also because Alanna has been practicing). This puts her mother into submission and Alanna starts to demand and affirm more kindness (or at least being left tf alone) from her mother.
That whole week of suspension, Alanna is smitten from the soft wooing from Adam and coaxing of Talia and Cynthia for her to accept his prom proposal. While all this happens, the other ringleader (Uh, Susan!) is planning to do the whole public humiliation thing and to have her equally loser boyfriend slash Adam's tires and ruin his battery so Alanna can't get away afterwards.
Alanna grows into her powers, Evette grows more paranoid and passive aggressive. Constantly pestering Alanna that this was a test of the devil. Alanna talks to her about how much she's been hurt by her and for her to confront who hurt her before she loses her daughter. Alanna continues prepping for prom with Talia and her mother's help instead. Alanna gives her mother one more chance to be happy or show support to her daughter. Evette blows it (They are all gonna laugh at you!)
Prom... Happens. Y'all know the drill. Cynthia learns about the prank, tries to get to prom in time. Susan and her dickhead BF scare her by threatening to lie to her father that she's been hooking up with Adam putting both their lives in danger. Alanna is living it up at Prom with Adam and Talia. Cynthia is able to risk it and get Talia's attention to try and earn her, however they end up getting locked out and harassed by the dickhead boyfriend's greasy ass buddies and have to lock into Adam's car for safety.
Pig Blood (or maybe motor oil and chicken feathers) happens, Adam is KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS ( bad gash and concussion fosure) by the bucket falling, racist bs happen.
Alanna clutches Adam close as everyone hollars and taunts her. The school official barely doing anything to try and quell them or laughing along. The few other students of color use their sense of danger to either get the fuck outta there or try to help Alanna and Adam.
Alanna whispers them all to sleep. Prays for protection and calm for them.
Then. She. Screams.
I want FIRE, SCALDING SPRINKLERS, MFUKAS BEING CRUSHES SLAMMED AND CHOKED.
BLACK GIRL MUTHAFUCKIN RAGE TO RIP THEM ALL APART AND RUBBLE THE BUILDING THAT HOUSED ALL THAT HATE
Talia and Cynthia witness it all. The guys that were cornering them are fucking smite by one loud sigh coming from Alanna's mouth when she spots them. Alanna takes in the chaos and can only nod and start walking home, locking her friends into the car for safety.
Say what y'all want about 2013 Carrie, that car wreck scene? Happen exactly to Susan and Dickhead BF when they try to run Alanna over.
Alanna gets home to find Evette crying over the letters from her own mother. The phone has been shattered into pieces and Alanna breaks down and tells Evette everything.
Evette comforts Alanna, true comfort, for the first time in a decade. Bathing, dressing, cleaning and greasing Alanna's scalp as she sings delicate lullabies to her. She makes hot coca and wraps Allan up in a family quilt, reciting the story of Mary and the birth of Jesus to her in a cozy whisper.
As this happens the rescuers are only able to dig out Adam and the few others that tried to help Alanna, out the rubble whole and alive. They break Talia and Cynthia out of the car and the two girls run to Alanna's house. They are barely a block away then the earth rips open and screams. Quake after quake as a twister roars over them and heat snaps into the air, forcing them to huddle into a ditch as God gets angry.
Cars suddenly come to life and speed down the road to crash into the Hobbs' household.
7 minutes later. All is calm. Just a regular spring night, the only thing left is chaotic debris and soft wind.
All that's left of Evette within the mangled and smoldering remains of her home is her charred corpse clutching a pristine crucifix and the ribboned ends of Alanna's braids. The MD determined that the support beam tore through her chest and killed her first before the fire got to her. That the fire is what left just ash and braids of Alanna.
"Good. That Black Devil is banished back to hell." Is what the white pastors and the police chief says.
"My she burn and my child rest." Says parents that don't realize they raised nothing but viscous bullies.
"My friend is gone and I don't blame her for the mess it left behind. But...now I gotta go." Is what Talia tells Cynthia as she and her family flee the town just three days after it all.
Adam is sent to Chicago with his first broken heart.
But little do any know, about the green pickup that flew down the dirt roads, back to a lazy and quiet rural town that Alanna never got a chance to remember before.
Her Grandmother strokes her hair as she drives and tells the mute and shaking girl the story about the slave mother who would rather her baby be dead and free then living and in chains.
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a-998h · 4 months
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Each nations festivals for the Creator.
Mondstadt
It is known as The Ventus Dies Natalis (Latin: The Winds Birthday Festival).
Time of year: Spring
How long it lasts: weeks/ 14 days
Origins: The people of old Mondstadt wanted to honor the creation of the winds. Do to this they planned a festival that at first was a serious religious affair that lasted for a week, before it became a 2 week festival.
Traditions week by week
Week 1
Day 1: The people go to the cathedral plaza or inside the cathedral for prayer and to present offerings of Calla Lillies, Snapdragons, Dandelion Wine,and Fruits of the Festival, Mint Jelly, Moon Pie, and Northern Apple Stew.
Day 2: A tournament between the kinghts is held from sunrise untill noon. Once the final round has ended, the winner is given a crown of Calla Lillies, Snapdragons, and being honored with the title of Ventus Fortitudinis (Latin: Wind of Strength). The winner is beilved to be blessed with good fortune for as long as they retain the title, the current title holder is Bennett for two years in a row.
Day 3: A tournament is held between Mondstadt's archers from noon to sunset. The winner gains the title of Sagittarius Ventus (Latin: Archer of the wind) along with a Calla Lilly and Sanpdragon flower crown. The winner is beilved to be blessed with good fortune for as long as they retain the title, the current title holder is Amber for four years in a row.
Day 4: From sunset to midnight a contest for bards is held and the winner gains the title of Vates Ventus (Latin: Bard of the wind). The winner is beilved to be blessed with good fortune for as long as they retain the title, the current title holder is Venti for six years.
Day 5: The three winners throw a ball, similar to the Ludi Harpastum games, but these balls have two flower crowns on each ball. The three winners throw the balls and those who cath any of the balls and gain one of the six flowers crowns is believed to share in the original winners good fortune. After this the people good to play games, eat, and drink.
Day 6: This day is most for prayers to local shrines or at the cathedral.
Day 7: People go and either, buy of pick Calla Lillies and Snapdragons and spend time making flower crowns for their friends, fammily, or lovers. A large feast is had and people gift the flower crowns they made to each other.
Week 2
Day 1: People return to the Cathedral area for another prayer and this time no offerings are put at the statue offering table.
Day 2: Those who are willing with travel out to the separate shrine near the Thousand Winds Temple in order to deliver written prayers of the people.
Day 3: In cetian locations in the more rual areas will have games set up, like wind glider races.
Day 4: This is a day with many bards who share their poems, song, and stories with people in the plaza during one act performances that last from noon until sunset. Once the sun sets, people will spend their night drinking and eating.
Day 5: This is another rest day.
Day 6: drunken partying with lots of food.
Day 7: people gather around campfires or fire places and tell stories.
Week 3
Day 1: The church choir sing a few songs to start off the final festival week.
Day 2: The petals of Snapdragons and Calla Lillies are picked from the flower and case to the wind carrying prayers, often down by those who do not wish to write their prayers.
Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6: drinking, feasting and games.
Day 7: The people all blow on dandelions, making wishes as the fluff blows in the wind. A large feast like at the beginning of the festival is held in oder to cap off the festival itself.
Liyue
The Creator has been celebrated on Lantern Rite on few occasions.
The Creator has a festival of their own called Lóngfèng jié (Chinese: Dragon and phoenix festival).
Time of year: Spring
How long it lasts: 15 days/ 1 week and a day
Origins: When the adepti roamed the land along side humans, they saw how the humans would worship the Creator on the same days of worship for Rex Lapis. Once he was told, Rex Lapis said that the people shall have a festival for only the Creator every spring for 10 days before it became strethed to 15 days over the centuries. The times during Lantern Rite where the Creator was worshipped, happened during times where the spring was to rainy and dark for the typical festival.
Day 1: The citizens gather at their nearest shrine and present offerings of Snapdragons, Violetgrass, Lotus Flower Crisp, Stir-Fried Shrimp, and Stone Harbor Delicacies. This happens after the people say a prayer for good fortune.
Day 2: a parade is held with a dragon and phoenix being made to look like it is dancing by being controlled by a team of performers.
Day 3: There are kite design contests for both children and adults. Once the designing is done, there is a contest for who's kite can go the highest and farthest.
Day 4: A feast is held to honor the Creator's role in making the Archons.
Day 5: The Liyue Opera puts on a performance of the Creators brith from the stars and Celestia.
Day 6: Bouquets of Violetgrass and Snapdragons are traded between those who are close.
Day 7: People place a Snapdragon or Violetgrass flower into the sea as a prayer for good fortune.
Day 8: The shrines are decorated with Snapdragon Violetgree garland and only drink offerings are placed this day.
Day 9: A feast is held to celebrate the Creator's role of making the adepti.
Day 10: The Liyue Opera puts on a performance about how the Creator made the Archons, adepti, and humanity.
Day 11: Prayers are written onto pieces of paper and are then burned, they believe the smoke carried the prayers upto Celestia for the Creator to grant.
Day 12: A contest is held for who can make the best sculpture of the Creator from sunrise to noon. The winner is given the title of Shítou yìshùjiā (Chinese: Artist of stone) and the current title holder is Madam Ping. From noon till dusk a tournament is held to see who is the strongest fighter, it was used to see who would be a good guardian to the Creator, the winner gets the title of Fènghuáng wèishì (Chinese: Protector of the Phoenix), current title holder is Gaming. From dusk till sunset a contest held to test who would be a good advisor for the Creator, the winning title is Míngxīng gùwèn (Chinese: Advisor of the Stars) current title holder is Xingqiu.
Day 13: People tell smaller stories and myths about the Creators interaction with Liyue's archon and adepti at home or on stage.
Day 14: A final feast is held for the Creator's role in making humanity and everything on the mortal world.
Day 15: The Liyue Opera puts on a performance on the death and rebirth of the Creator. Kites with prayers and wishes written on them will be released as the streets are lit with lanterns.
Inazuma
The festival is called Hana-shin matsuri (Japanese: The flower god festival).
Time of year: Summer
How long it lasts: 10 days
Origins: The yokai started holding a small festival to thank the Creator for giving them life. When yokai and humanity became friends, the yokai shared some of the traditions with humans while making sure they were followed and done properly. Eventually the festival became a common part of life in Inazuma. It became even more important when the arachons of Inazuma were seen in public for the festival.
Day 1: A prayer service is held at Grand Narukami shirne in which special incense are burned and offerings of Dendrobium, Sakura, Sakura Mochi, Sakura Shrimp Crackers, and Tri-colored Dango.
Day 2: Kabuki theaters put on performances that tell important myths about the Creator, similar to the Liyue Opera.
Day 3: Sangonomiya shrine holds a prayer services with the same offerings as the first prayer day.
Day 4: A parade with floats moves through the streets of Inazuma city. Each float follows a set theme for the festival that year.
Day 5: The samurai and Inazuman warriors hold a contest of strength and skill. The winner gets the title of Hoshi no senshi, current title holder is Kujo Sara.
Day 6: Onikabuto trading, collecting and fighting amounts children is seen as a way for them to test their strength, Itto is still trying to win.
Day 7 and Day 8: Are the rest days untill the evening, in which there is a large feast.
Day 9: Sakura and Dendrobium flowers are put floating into the sea and a way of wishing or prayer.
Day 10: Fireworks are fired into the sky as way to end the festival.
Sumeru
This is known as Laghayati Parvan (Sanskrit: Color Festival).
Time of year: Summer
How long it lasts: 7 days
Origins: The people of Sumeru believed that since they were closest to nature, that they were closer to the Creator. They treat this time of year like a 7 day funeral service as it is believed that the Creator drew their last in the Avidya Forest, however it has become more light hearted in the last 20 years.
Day 1: People clean their homes and the nearest shrine before leaving offerings of Sumeru Rose, Mourning Flower, Padisarah Pudding and Baklava along with prayers.
Day 2: People get markings on their body in symbolic patterns using an ink made with Henna berries.
Day 3: The people lights bonfires to tell stories about the Creator and Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. People in Sumeru ship them.
Day 4: People adorn their homes and local shrines with flower garlands and lanterns.
Day 5: People throw colored powder made with Henna berries at each other and decorate their homes and shrines with it.
Day 6: The colored Henna Berry powder is thrown as a welcoming gesture for the Creator.
Day 7: A clean up of all the colorful powder from the streets and buildings.
Fontaine
This is the Dieu créateur Carnival. (Fench: Creator gods carnival.)
Time of year: Late winter/early spring
How long it lasts: 7 days
Origins: It started as a way for devoted worshipers of the Creator to mark the end of their fasting period. Fontaine kept it like this for the whole time untill Furina became archon. Furina thought the Creator deserved a more fun and colorful celebration.
Day 1: Rainbow Roses and Romartime bouquets are gifted to shrines as offerings along with Fruity Trio and Fontaine Aspic.
Day 2: An 18 float parade goes through the streets lead by the king, queen, and carnivalon on floats. These floats are offer followed with performers from all nations.
Day 3: Another parade during those in costume on the floats throw up to 10,000 flowers into the crowd. During this time boquets of Rainbow Roses and Romartimes are exchanged between lovers, it is believed to bless the relationship with years of good luck so long as the partners are together. This parade is called the défilé de fleurs (French: flower parade).
Day 4: This is a repeat of the parade on day 2 expect the floats are decorated with lights of various colors. Known as Défilé de lumières (French: Parade of lights).
Day 5: On this night, people par take in games and drunken fun while dressed in costumes and masks.
Day 6: This is a day full of performances all having a common theme of myths about the Creator.
Day 7: The days in which people clean up from the weeks events of chaos and fun.
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Currently all nations are either starting or preparing a festival to welcome the Creator back to Teyvat. I will explore these a bit more in the main plot line.
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dulc3vida · 3 months
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durazno
pope heyward x lamb!reader
content warning: a peach gets violated, blasphemy, the good stuff. 18+ read at your own risk.
2.4k words
Pope Heyward is not a religious man. He’s a man of science. He likes tangible things that can be studied and understood.
No matter how much he tried explaining that to Heyward, it didn’t matter. As long as he lived under their roof it meant he had to put on his best dress shirt and slacks every Sunday to go to church. It wasn’t all bad. Everyone was really nice there and the music was pretty good.
His favorite part of church is you. The preacher's daughter. Always at the front of the choir, soft voice singing “Christ Be Our Light” and other hymns. You’re truly an angel. You always helped lead the kids out of mass into their Sunday school classrooms. You always volunteered with the food bank and at the animal shelter. You even tutored after school at the public library.
It’s a self indulgent fantasy, Pope thinking he could have you in any way. You’re kook royalty, right up there next to the Camerons. Even if social status wasn’t an issue, a girl like you would never go for him. He reminded himself of that fact every time you caught him staring and smiled demurely from across the pews. You’re a nice girl, you smile at everyone.
Pope, unfortunately, always managed to look away before he could catch your eyes lingering and your teeth sinking into your plush bottom lip as you stared at him with curiosity.
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After hurricane Agatha, you suggested to your father the church should gather resources to help with relief. You were surprised at his reluctance and you recited bible verses until you turned blue, not taking no for an answer. “Love thy neighbor, daddy. You taught me that.” He held out for a while, but nevertheless he agreed so long as you helped organize.
You rallied the support of all the kooks, gathering donations. They could never say no to you, even if they didn’t necessarily want to help provide aid to the inhabitants of the cut. You got on your dad’s boat with a group of volunteers from church and set sail for the mainland, returning with tons of food and other necessities. It took an entire day for your group to get all the care packages ready and to assign groups to specific addresses.
When delivery day came around, you made sure one specific address was reserved just for you. Your dad made himself clear that he didn’t want you wandering around the cut by yourself but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, you thought to yourself as your bike rode up the gravel driveway of Heyward’s. You prayed the night before that Pope would be there and God answered. Pope was on the dock, spraying some buckets clean with a hose. His striped button down open and his bare chest on display, making your heart pound in your chest. He doesn’t turn around to look at you when he hears you approaching.
“Almost done, Pops. Just got a few more.”
“Hi, Pope.” You greet, lacing your words with sweetness.
Pope whipped around at the sound of your voice. “Hey-Hi.” His face burns as he stutters over a basic greeting. It didn’t help that you were staring into his soul with your big brown eyes like a lost little lamb. “Can I help you with anything?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He almost thinks you’re checking him out.
“No.” You shake your head, soft waves cascading over your shoulders. There is an awkward silence, neither of you knowing what to say until you remember the bags in your hands. “I brought this… For your family… It’s from the church. You know, relief. It’s not much-”
“This is great, thank you.” Pope took one of the bags and then noticed the other one in your hands. “What's that?”
“Uhm… Peaches. For you.” You held the bag out, intentionally letting your fingers linger on his. “My dad went to Georgia last week for a church thing. These are my favorite.” You licked your lips as you watched him pull one out of the bag and dig his teeth into the flesh of the fruit. You wondered what it would feel like to be the peach.
Pope didn't know if he just wanted the fruit to taste good or if it was actually that good because he practically moaned at the taste. “This is the best peach I’ve ever had.” It made you laugh and it sounded like a melody. He could only imagine that you tasted just as good. “Thank-”
The sound of JJ hooting and hollering alerted both of your attentions. “Come on, loverboy! We gotta get a move on!” He called from the HMS Pogue.
“I should go.” You smiled at him warmly. “Bye, Pope. Have a blessed day.” You called out to his friends, waving as you turned to get back on your bike.
“You too, sweetheart!” JJ called back, earning a slap to the arm from John B.
“Don't be a creep, dude.”
“What? I was just being nice?”
Pope watched you swing your leg over your bike, the wind catching your skirt and blowing it upwards just enough to reveal your cotton white panties. JJ nearly broke his neck trying to get a better look.
“Pervs…” Kie rolled her eyes. “That's the preacher's daughter, you know that right?”
“I know.” A smirk spread over JJ’s face. “Church girls are always the freakiest. You know, pent up sex feels? Bet she humps her pillow every night starin’ at a cross-”
“Okay, that's enough.” Pope finally turns around once he is sure his hardening dick isn’t visible. “Let's go.”
“Ooh, peaches?” John B wiggled his fingers together and reached for the bag but Pope yanked it away. “Oh come on, there's at least 12 in there. Are you on your way to be in a math problem?” Pope sighed and tossed one at John B. He turned to Kiara and JJ who were sitting on their knees, groveling like dogs. They each get a peach tossed at them.
“That's what I’m talking about.” JJ bit his peach. “She's totally into you.”
“No, she's not. She's just being nice.”
“Hey, John B? You get any Georgia peaches in your care package?” He looked at the label on the fruit before biting the peach again.
“Nah. You?”
“Nah. Want my advice?” JJ tossed the pit of his peach into the water.
“I really don't-” Pope shook his head, taking control over the wheel of the HMS.
“Try that door. I guarantee it's unlocked for you.”
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Pope was usually a sound sleeper. His dreams were never too scary and he was always able to fall asleep once he focused on his breathing for a bit. Tonight was different.
Every time he closed his eyes he saw you.
He couldn’t help it. You invaded his mind the second he stepped into your fathers church. When he raised his hand in worship it was always for you. As far as Pope was concerned, God wasn’t real. You were real. Someone he could genuinely worship and devote himself to completely. Selfishly. You were the lamb and he was the pathetic, cowardly lion.
Pope sat up in bed and looked around his room tiredly until his eyes stopped on the bag of peaches. He wasn’t sure why he brought them into his room but he knew he would regret it in the morning. He got out of bed and grabbed a peach before lying back in bed. He pressed a finger against its center, obscenely digging his finger inside and pulling out the pit.
Juice dripped onto his chest and onto his chin as he sucked all the fruit off the pit before tossing it aside, moving the peach down his boxers. It was a tight fit and it made him screw his eyes shut. It didn’t help.
All it took was 3 strokes and the image of the faint outline of your pussy through your panties and he was biting his hand to muffle the sound of his orgasm. He set the peach on his nightstand feeling the need to take a cold, cold shower before he went to bed.
In the morning, Pope felt guilty. Pope is not a religious man but something about what he had done made him feel the need to seek penance. He needed to face some kind of punishment, even if it meant confessing that he fucked a peach to the thought of the preacher’s daughter.
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The only spot in the world where you could truly be yourself was the confessional. No one came to confess as much as they needed so it was only really ever used on occasions that called for it. You liked coming to the church on the days where no one was there except your father doing paperwork in his office. It was the perfect place to read books your parents wouldn’t approve of. From medieval torture methods to smut. Anything mildly taboo that you could sneak out of the public library. You always returned the books and repented.
Today, you were halfway through A Certain Hunger when you heard the doors of the church creak open. You peek out of the door and immediately close it. Pope is making his way towards the booth.
He steps inside and closes the door, not daring to look towards who he thinks is the minister. Instead, he closes his eyes. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” Pope inhales sharply when there is no response. He takes it as permission to continue. “I gave into temptation and lust. I… I…” Pope didn’t know how to describe it. “I… committed a sex act… with a peach. I feel incredibly guilty and it’s not the act that I feel most guilty about but who I was thinking about during it. I feel like I violated her in some way and-”
“Was it me?” Your soft voice made his heart drop. He thinks he’s hallucinating. It was silent for a minute before you repeat yourself. “Were you thinking about me, Pope?”
Pope took another moment before responding. “Yes.” He was mortified at your silence. “I’m really, really sorry-” He was cut off by the sound of your door opening and shutting. His mind raced with the possibility of you running to your father ready to tell him what a sick deviant he is.
Instead, the door to his side of the confessional opened and you closed the door behind yourself.
“Hi.” You practically whispered, a smile playing on your face that you were trying to hide. “Did you, really?” He nods, afraid to speak. “I’m sorry.”
Pope has to blink a few times to digest your words. “Why?”
“I was tempting you.” You confess, thinking on everytime you would give Pope a coquettish glance or your bold move wearing a skirt you knew would show your panties off with one breeze. He stared at you inquisitively. “I’ve been trying to seduce you. I’m sorry I led you to sin.” You knelt before him. “Recently, I have been overcome with lustful thoughts about you. I… I use the thought of you for pleasure.” Your confession was sending all blood in Pope’s brain straight down to dick. “I don’t think you deserve any penance.” Your voice quieted to a whisper before you carefully reached to touch his bulge. Pope made no move to stop you.
“What are you doing?” He questions, voice strangles at the feeling of your hand rubbing against his dickprint. You looked up at him, the same way you look when you take the body of christ into your mouth.
“Paying my penance.” You slip your hand down his pants and stroke his already hard cock. His skin is soft and it’s a little bit curved. Your mouth waters at the feel. You do what you read in your books, pumping your hand up and down slowly. You were enjoying this.
Pope’s breath gets caught in his throat. “Wait… Are you sure we should do this?”
“I can stop if you want…” You pulled him out of his pants, admiring how pretty his dick is in your hand. “But, remember Pope… The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not be in want. Neither should you.” You sink your mouth onto him and he feels like he is in heaven. “We can always repent. Love covers a multitude of sins and God loves us.” You reassure him, taking him back into your mouth.
Pope feels like he’s on fire from his head to his toes. His head rests against the wall as you bob your head up and down his length. He’s not a religious man, but this is the closest he has come to truly feeling God’s presence. He looks down at you and you are already staring at him, mouth full as you choke down as much as you can. You gag around him and come up for air, gasping as you kitten lick his tip before taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.
You look beautiful. Your eyes never left him. Your hair stuck to your forehead from sweat and your eyes were all watery and glassy. You even had your heel between your legs, rocking back and forth on it. You moaned and it sent vibrations all through his cock. He wanted to worship you the same way you were worshiping him. He was praying for the strength to stay silent as his eyes roam the walls, staring at the intricate cross motifs carved into the wood panels. He had never felt the watchful eye of God until now.
It was truly a miracle he lasted as long as he did because it didn’t take much longer before he was trying to pull you off. “I’m gonna-” He panted out, breathing becoming ragged. You didn’t want to come off though. You forced yourself down until your nose touched the base of his cock. You could feel him pulsing as it all shot down your throat.
Pope almost screamed when you kept sucking after he came. You came up, pressing kisses against his dick. Neither of you spoke while you put him back in his pants and then nuzzled his leg, wanting attention like a needy lamb. He pet your hair, tucking it behind your ear.
“Did you throw the peach away?” Pope shakes his head no. “Can I have it?”
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this was unhinged and very self indulgent :p hope u like!
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munsonluhvr · 2 months
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the divine encounter (18+) - gator tillman x innocent!religious!reader | word count - 2.8k
ᡣ𐭩 part 2
It was in the middle of Sunday mass that Gator Tillman spotted you. You wore a too-short-for-church dress, a snug cardigan covering your upper half. Your hair bounced off your back each time you kneeled, stood up, and kneeled again to pray. You were utterly fascinating from behind, the bounce of your hair mesmerizing, the curve of your body mouth watering. When you turned to shake other church goers hands, following instructions from the priest to share thanks with the congregation, Gator caught sight of your face – angelic. Gator knew he had to have you. 
“Back row of church,” Gator’s father, Roy, mutters under his breath. “All because you had to stare at yourself in the god-damn mirror and make us late for church. Now we have to stand in the back like some common folk.” Roy jabs the flesh of Gator’s ribs with his pointer and middle finger, digging into Gator’s skin until he wriggles away. 
Gator only sighs softly in response, inaudible to his father’s ears. He lets his mind wander to plan what he’ll say to you, occupying his mind away from church’s tedious rituals and his father’s wrath. Quietly, he thanks himself for spending too long in the bathroom and making his family late for church: he never would have spotted you if they were sitting in the front row, like usual, and you were behind him. 
Church finishes with the shake of the choirs tambourine and the high-pitched sound of Gator’s father singing proudly, his wife Karen squeaking along beside him. Gator only played along as religious to please his father; he always felt a million miles away from reality when he attends church with his father, step mother, and half-sisters. 
Gator watches as you and your own family exit the pew, filing into the center aisle in the middle of church. The small congregation mingles throughout the confines of the church, the priest making his rounds too. You have your hands clasped in front of you, a small smile on your mouth as you greet people. You play the role of innocent, your hair tucked behind your ears, cheeks tinted pink, but Gator doesn’t buy it, not for one second. 
Gator turns to tell his father that he’ll be right back, but he notices his father has already left the pew, annoyed with his son’s ogling at the rest of the churchgoers being social. Gator files out of the pew, joining his father and step mother who are gathered in a small group of community members, supporters of his father's. Off to the side, his half-sisters run up and down the steps outside that lead into the back of the church, squealing carelessly. 
With his father occupied, surely for a few minutes, Gator takes the opportunity to approach you. You hang back from your family, eyes wandering to the stained-glass windows that line the walls of the church. How has he never noticed you before? 
“You look bored,” Gator says, coming up from behind you. He startles you, watching your eyes widen when you turn, your gaze lifting to meet his eyes.
“Forgive me, but I don’t find church… stimulating.” You say, re-folding your hands in front of you. You lean against the end of a pew, angling your body towards Gator. You feel pleased, too, when you notice how Gator’s eyes trickle down your body, taking in the shape of your figure. 
Gator chuckles softly, lifting his hands up. “I don’t either but don’t tell my father that.” He lets his body soften, not wanting to show you his sharp edges so soon. 
“Your secret is safe with me,” you say, your voice a low hum. Silence lingers between you and Gator, only the sound of the rest of the church mingling filling the gap in your conversation. 
Gator wipes his hand on his pants, then puts it out in front of you. “I’m Gator,” he says with assertiveness. “Gator Tillman.” 
“Well, Gator, Gator Tillman; it’s nice to meet you.” You say teasingly. Already you were intrigued with Gator’s presence, feeling the urge to run your fingertips across the contours of his strikingly gorgeous face. “I’m y/n.” 
Gator cracks a smile, amused with your sense of humor. Gator had grown tired of the girls in Lehigh; bored of their lack of ambition, their inability to be sexually curious. All they did was lay on their backs, legs parted, letting him use their bodies to please himself. Sure, Gator liked the ability to blow off some steam, take time off to do something other than be yelled at by his father or hunt down law-breaking citizens. But he had grown empty and hollow; he wanted something more, something different. 
“Are you new to Lehigh? I don’t think I recognize you and I know everyone in this town.” Gator asks, his curiosity getting the best of him. 
You nod, leaning forward to gently tug down your dress. As you lean forward, the fabric of your dress puckers, allowing for a clear view into the top of your dress. Gator gulps as he catches the sight of your bra-lessness, and the gold cross necklace that rests on your chest, sparkling against the low-lit lights in the church. You straighten your posture, pretending to be oblivious to the stunt you just pulled. A flip of excitement forms in your lower abdomen. “Brand new. My dad was just transferred to the police department here.” 
Gator raises his eyebrows, attempting to ignore the way his chest thumped against his ribs, the bulge he could feel beginning to grow in his pants. “That’s wild, my dad is the police chief in Lehigh.” 
You coo, crossing your arms against your chest. “I knew your last name sounded familiar. So, you’re the bad-boy they told me to stay away from.” 
Gator frowns now, disappointed that you have already been warned against interacting with him. You sense his demeanor change and you’re quick to do damage control. “I’m kidding. Plus, I don’t listen to my parents anyway.” 
Gator bites at his bottom lip, feeling the need to slip his leather jacket off, the heat of the church becoming overbearing. “Do you want to have a smoke? They’re in my truck.” 
You glance towards your parents who are enthralled in an animated conversation with the priest, obviously occupied and unlikely to notice if you disappear for a few minutes. “Sure.” 
The weather outside is frigid, winter approaching at a fast pace. Your bare skin puckers against the cold air, goosebumps forming on your thighs. You follow closely behind Gator as you make your way to his truck. It’s an older model, a deep blue, or is it a dark brown? He opens the passenger side door for you, closing it gently once you’re sitting in the seat. Gator walks around the car, getting into the driver’s seat. He imagines turning the car on, driving you back to his home, fucking you endlessly until you couldn’t walk – but sitting beside you in his car to smoke would have to do for now. 
Gator leans across your body, fumbling with the glove compartment. The small door drops open, a pile of colorful, empty vape cartridges rattle inside. Gator inches closer, allowing the strong scent of his cologne to radiate off of him. Your eyes flutter, suddenly feeling an intense hunger for Gator in your abdomen. You shift in your seat, allowing Gator to access the glove compartment. 
Gator grasps the vape he had been using before he went into church, and hands it to you to use first. In all honesty, you had never smoked or vaped before. Nonetheless, you took the vape from Gator, grasping the neon green cartridge in your hand, bringing it to your lips and then inhaling. The faux smoke fills your lungs, and you cough, eyebrows knitted in disgust as a light watermelon taste fills your throat. You hold your hand out, returning the item back to Gator. 
Gator laughs, watching you cough. “You don’t smoke, do you?”
You shake your head, attempting to smack away the flavor from your mouth. “No.” 
Gator leans against his seat, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress that creeps higher and higher on your thighs with each movement you make. Sitting there in his passenger seat, an innocence radiating off of you that he’s convinced is for show makes him wonder how old you are. “How old are you anyway?” 
You blow out between your lips, staring straight forward, knowing there is no use in attempting to make yourself older – you will always look young and innocent. “Nineteen.” 
Gator whistles, taking a hit from his neon green vape. “We got a young one right here.” 
You give Gator a please don’t look which only makes Gator laugh. “I’m just messin’ with you. It’s not like anyone would call the cops. Hell, I am the cops.” You smile, wishing Gator would skip the playful banter and touch you. 
“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask, choosing to be unaware that this question is random and forward. 
Gator laughs again, shaking his head. Gator, in all his twenty-seven years of life, had never had a girlfriend; he wasn’t the dating type. Though, he doesn’t feel like admitting that to you. “No.” 
You hum, satisfied. You were pent up, your sexual desires beginning to overrule your rationality. You were a good girl, under the watch over your overbearing, strict parents. You were to save your virginity for the man you marry, and because of that, and other temptations that teenagers face, your parents never let you out of their sight. In your old hometown, the boys were similar to trolls, making it easy to stay celibate. Now, however, sitting beside Gator who’s a man, his wandering eye making it obvious that he was attracted to you, you were no longer convinced your virginity belongs to your future husband – it belongs to Gator Tillman. It doesn’t matter to you that you have just met Gator; God may work in mysterious ways, but sexual desire works even more mysteriously. 
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Gator hears himself ask. His stomach grumbles in anticipation for your answer. He’s pleased when you shake your head no; mostly he’s pleased he doesn’t have to fight another guy to have you for himself. 
“You’re awfully pretty, you know.” Gator says, his hand reaching out to brush his fingertips across your bare and exposed thighs. The feeling of his skin brushing against yours makes your skin shiver, your core tighten with lust. 
“So are you,” you say, you’re voice coming out lower then you anticipated. Your fingertips toy with the hem of your dress, trying to restrain yourself from your temptations. It’s no use though, your desires overcome your attempts to control yourself. 
You lean across the center console of Gator’s truck, holding on to the side of the driver’s seat chair. You break Gator’s personal bubble, though he’s not complaining, and push your lips into his. Gator his quick to let his fingertips intertwine in your hair, bringing you closer to his body. With one hand, he cradles your face, with the other he places on your hip. You sigh softly against his mouth, the taste of his tongue and the flavor of his vape infiltrating your lips. 
Gator’s heart thumps against his chest, your proposition catching him off guard. The feeling of your small body pressed against his, your mouth working in unison with his - he is sure he has entered through gates of heaven. Moving his hand from your hip, he grasps your forearm, pulling you onto his lap. You make stealthy movements to navigate yourself onto his lap, yet in the process your rear end brushes against the horn, causing you to jolt in surprise. You laugh softly against Gator’s mouth, and you can feel a smile forming on his. 
Now placed comfortably on Gator’s lap, your legs straddling him, you cup his face with both of your hands, deepening your kiss. Gator groans softly, and you can feel him growing hard against your bare legs. Oh, how you want him so bad. 
Acting on impulse, Gator lets his hand wander down the length of your body, his fingertips brushing against your panties. You flush feeling his hand against your most sensitive part, wishing you had picked out more grown-up panties that aren’t so frilly. 
The feeling of Gator inching closer to touching you begins to make your nerves fray, your head spin. This is the farthest you’ve ever gone with someone; what will Gator think of your lack of experience? 
Gator is in his own world, unaware of how your body has tensed the second he put his fingers against your panties. He toys with the edge of your underwear, building up the tension before he plunges his digits inside of you. He has a dying ache to know how you’d feel around his fingers, let alone his cock. With one swift movement, he pushes your panties aside, his fingers finding their way into you with ease. Gator can’t help but smile when you gasp sharply, your lips parting from his. Gator moves his fingers in and out of you rhythmically, moans babbling out of you uncontrollably. 
“Such a good girl,” Gator mumbles, feeling how wet you are beneath your panties. Your arousal dribbles down your thighs, down his forearms. He wonders how you taste, how it would feel to have your thighs wrapped around his head. 
You feel your body relax as soon Gator’s fingers enter you, and you feel your body respond to the pleasure by rolling your hips against his hand. You hold onto his shoulders, your head leaning back in bliss. Gator takes the opportunity to kiss the front of your throat, and down your chest, maneuvering around the gold cross that rests against your chest. ‘Lord forgive me,’ he thinks to himself. Gator’s mind flips to all the other ways he could pleasure you, putting the back seats in his truck to good use. 
You are both in your own world together, not noticing that the rest of the church is beginning to file out the front and side of the building. Your eyes have fluttered shut in pleasure, cracking open occasionally to make eye contact with Gator. It’s then that you notice the side door of the church opening and elderly people begin to exit. You gasp loudly, causing Gator to come back to reality. The bulge in his pants aches, his arousal growing stronger.
“Oh no,” you squeak, climbing off of Gator’s lap. Your cunt feels empty without his long and nimble fingers filling you. You want to know what he cock feels like, how large he is; you just know he’s big. You curse in your mind, hoping that you’ll get a second chance to find out soon.
Gator looks in front of him, letting you get off his lap. His eyes grow wide when he sees his father, still deep in conversation, round the front corner of the church. His heart stops, however, when he sees your father standing in the distance, eyes trained on his truck. “Shit, there’s your dad.” 
You look up, your skin beginning to crawl. You quickly re-adjust your clothes and open the passenger door. “I-I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around, Gator.” You offer a small, flushed smile. You feel like you must look stupid, wide-eyed; surely he could sense your inexperience, right? Unbeknownst to you, all Gator can think about is how beautiful you are, the way your blush creeps across the bridge of your nose, the way your eyes glitter against the sun. Gator can’t wait until the next time he can get his hands on you. 
“Hi daddy,” you say, quickening your pace to reach your father. Just in his body language, you can tell you and Gator weren’t so slick in hiding your activities together. Your father had made it very clear that you were to stay away from Gator Tillman. “That boy is trouble, y/n, and so is his father. We must not get wrapped up in their wrongdoings.” Your father had said when you first moved to Lehigh, his words firm. 
“Princess, what were you doing in Gator’s car?” Your father asks, his suspicions clear on his face. He knew from the second he met Gator that he was trouble, the rest of the police squad confirming his assumptions. Seeing you in Gator’s truck, so smitten so quickly, he knows you and he will be trouble if left alone together. 
“We were just praying together, daddy.” You hum, innocently. Your father’s eyes linger on you, his eyebrows knitting together further and further until the creases on his forehead begin to show. He takes in your messy hair, your flushed cheeks, your disheveled dress-straps. He looks until he can’t take it anymore. 
“Say a rosary as soon as you get home.” Your father grumbles, turning around on his heel, hoping the grace of the Lord can guide you in a better direction. You nod, following close behind him silently.
As you follow your father towards your family’s car, you glance over your shoulder, catching Gator’s eyes one last time. 
153 notes · View notes
semischarmed · 9 months
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Demonizer
Hope you’re not religious…
———
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Parker Mills here sure was. The cross, dutifully hanging on his neck in every other post. The obligatory bible passage quoted on the profile. A “#believer” given every other caption. The works. By all accounts, religion had been good for him. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Friendly to all, despite the evangelizing. Virgin too- saving for marriage, of course. His parents on the other hand were vile fucks. The Mills often terrorized our small town’s tiny lgbt community but by some stroke of divine luck, the son of those demons turned out completely normal. Better than normal. Parker was probably the nicest jock in town. Parker also turned me the fuck on. With Parker, I just knew. Just knew that those kind blue eyes and gentle smile adorned that angelic face and ripped body. Knew that with his family’s wealth and that face, he had the makings of the town menace. Knew that despite all this, he was entirely clueless on his appeal and unwilling to share his god-given gifts. Many have tried to corrupt poor Parker, but the man was a saint. He even looked uncomfortable doing anything beyond a quick peck on the lips. I just knew I could make him my own cocky motherfucker.  
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There were a handful of options in the dark web. Entirely different avenues ranging from a neurosurgeon offering direct transplant to a ritual for astral projection. It took 1 month just to sift through all the possibilities and options. Each one felt messy or required some form of constant maintenance. They wouldn’t do. I wanted Parker  permanently. All of him-body, mind and soul. At last I had landed on the Demonizer Potion. The effects seemed to vary drastically, though they all seemed to warn of its corruptive properties. In the end, I chose it because it filled the most important niche for these products for me- I could actually afford it. 
Finding a witch to procure this particular potion was… surprisingly easier than expected. In fact, it was downright effortless. Miranda, a witch just a town over, scoffed when I mentioned it to her. “A girl’s gotta pay her bills. Besides, It’s a lot easier and a lot cheaper to hide out here than it is in the big city.”
And that was that. For the “low-low price of $500”, I had the demonizer potion in hand. The drink was pitch-black. Darker than black even. And it seemed to pull all warmth from the room in an otherworldly, sinking feeling. I had no doubt this thing was the real deal. I read the instructions: “Drink with your intent.“ I imagined mine.
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- - -
I knew the perfect time to strike. It felt oddly fitting to take him during a service. In the church’s bathroom, I took a quick swig of my future. Just a third of the black substance. I gagged as I felt it stream down my throat. And I winced, expecting a burning sensation. No-not a burning sensation. It was more like a pit of nothingness spreading throughout my body to my fingertips. The burning came after. All at once, the world around me spun as I felt my body leave physical manifestation. I watched as my spectral hands flashed white then black in a pulsating pattern, before finally settling on a grey.
Parker Mills sat, listening attentively. They seemed to be playing some religious music. My only religion sat right in front of me. In devilish glee I began to stream into him. Inch by Inch, I flooded into his thick dick. He made a small grunt at first insertion.
Parker shifted in his seat as the worship choir continued singing. His face grew red as he tried to hide a growing boner. The worship singing droned and I felt a sharp pain in my head. As if empowered, Parker’s own soul began to push me out. 
In the end, I only managed to slip a bit of the grey essence into him. It did not seem to have much effect, aside from giving him an inexplicable need to grab the flask from the bathroom floor. I tried to make a mental note of that.
I sighed, defeated, as I fled into the night. In the darkness, I recuperated as I planned my next visit.
- - -
This time, there would be no fanfare. No choir to welcome our joining and my rebirth. I wasn’t sure how long I could stay in this world without his warm flesh tethering me mortal, so I knew I had to get in him fast. 
I followed the man to his apartment, sitting patiently in a dark corner of his bedroom as he went about his day.
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When he was close to sleeping, he turned off the light and sat on his bed in a meditative tone. I watched in anticipation as he closed his eyes and began to pray. “Lord, ple-“
“Mmhhmph!” I struck the man a snake, prying his full lips open and forcing his body to gorge itself with me. 
This time, no music. Just the sounds of a teary-eyed Parker choking on invisible mass. Drool ran down his cheeks as I inched more and more of my form inside. His neck bulged and eyes grew wide and bloodshot as he tried badly to reject the intrusion. Lubricated by Parker’s own saliva, by the taste of Parker, I greedily dug into his insides. 
Parker’s body began to move involuntarily. Deep in violation, it tried in vain to get me out. He smashed his head over and over again across the apartment wall trying to shake me out. I only forced myself inside harder. His head shook as it contorted in odd angles. Biceps started scratching at his own throat, trying to get me out to no avail. Eventually, they were forced splayed open as Parker’s body began to travel up the apartment wall. At first, his legs began to kick, then shake, then they begun to dangle ominously off the ground. In a perverted facsimile of his religion, I strung Parker up his own apartment wall, arms outstretched in a blasphemous pose as if to welcome me. “All are welcome..no, I am welcome,” I thought to myself. I continued my assault.
As Parker screamed, I weaved through each crevice until I could find the core of his soul. It looked pure and white, aside from the small speck of gray in my earlier intrusion. Gingerly, I pried the soul’s own mouth open as I laughed. I wanted Parker to his depths. Parker to his very core. And so I burrowed and coiled. Shackled myself to it. Shackled him to me. Like a trap jaw, his soul’s mouth closed. Forever sealing me in nice and tight as I continued squirm and fill into Parker. His spirit was mine. It bent in odd and unnatural angles, contorting until it tore. Outside, I felt Parker’s thrashing head slow into a twitching. 
I wanted-no needed every part of Parker to myself. So I begun to fill into the tears of his ravaged soul. I then felt the the fibers of those tears heal- with me embedded. Euphoric. Stillness.
Parker’s pale blue eyes shot wide open, dilated. “P-Please,” he whimpered, before they go glassy and a smile began to form on his lips. Parker’s flesh collapsed into a pile on the floor, body, mind, and soul spent. 
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- - -
My first breath as Parker felt out of this world. Parker’s body was his temple after all. When I felt his lungs fill for me, and air flow into us for the first time, I felt the power in his drawn breath- Like having an athlete’s lungs chained to my whims. I felt our drawn air circulate inside me, tickling bits of me in drunken pleasure. Granted, I was not that unhealthy in my previous flesh, but this new home was unreal. Merely existing in his flesh felt like an unburdening. Energy brimmed from fingertip to fingertip and my mind raced with a clarity I did not know possible. 
“I can’t believe you just feel like all the time” I teased as I twirled my new perfect hairs. I couldn’t help but giggle in my new perfect voice. Hearing it vibrate into a low moan was music to my ears, as the man’s hand travelled and cupped his own perky ass. “Fuck,” I panted breathlessly as I massaged my new right asscheek. The Jock’s face twitches in vain retaliation. “Fuck you feel so good…” I twisted his nipple. “Thank you for saving yourself for me.” Hearing and feeling this Parker, a Parker the world has never seen- A Parker he himself had never seen, drove me mad with lust. This was a private Parker, my Parker, one bound to me for my personal enjoyment. A moment exclusive to us. This seemed to light a fire in the original Parker and I felt my soul shiver as his encapsulated mine. “g…g-get the fuck out of me!” He spat.
With newfound agency, the original Parker ran to his desk and managed just one action before I could wrestle back control.
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I gulped. My shaking hand dropped the empty flask as I felt his intent hung around me like a death sentence. “Cast this demon out of me”.
Control over my perfect meat-suit went dark. Like a barrier emanating from within, I felt myself squeezed out of my home. Then falling. Falling for an unbelievable amount of time. I blacked out.
- - -
I awoke with the smell of sulfur in the air, the sky was dark and glowed a faint orange. I stood as I surveyed my surroundings, horrified. I saw a sea of bodies writhing and groaning. 
“Is this..?” I couldn’t bring myself to finish that sentence. I closed my eyes as I thought of the potion and the life I gave all to come to this. I didn’t even have a chance to play with my new body. A sensation stopped my racing mind abruptly.
It was a hand. 
One of the bodies on the floor moaned as it spoke in velvet. “Are you joining or what?” I shook it off me as the realization slowly dawned on me. It wasn’t groaning… it was moaning. They were not damned. At least, they were certainly not upset about it. 
Then I felt something else stir inside me. Hope? No- At least, not my hope. I grinned as I realized what had occurred. I took note of my spirit- a spirit that was a part of Parker’s. Partially superimposed. Partially one. We were bonded together, even as souls. When his sleeping soul came to, I felt that hope of his immediately vanish. He grabbed our merged face in horror, before looking around. 
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“B-but, I never did anything… I was perfect…” Parker trailed. I felt a blackness pour out of me. That’s it? Is that all there was to being a demon? These people were not suffering in the slightest. If anything, this was something to look forward to. This time, I felt no resistance from Parker as our shared soul began to fondle itself. Our face, however, was stone cold. Parker was in control.
Feeling all that he had to look forward to, something shattered in him. I felt as much- Rage. Betrayal. Then, Liberation. He looked up into the sky with a sneer and hands outstretched. “This what you wanted, asshole? I do everything right and you still put me here? How much time did I waste in those stupid lectures? How many people did we turn down?” I immediately felt the pieces of this new Parker worm into my psyche. “Fine”. He said with a broken satisfaction.
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Like a root, he spread throughout me. Bonding each of us tighter and tighter. This time, I felt a natural cockiness exude from Parker, and by extension me. It felt wrong, coming from Parker. At the same time, a part of me felt like this truly was Parker. This time, the disillusioned man continued fondling himself on his own volition. He brought me into the fold, guiding my movements. “Bro…” . I felt mind mind dull in euphoria. “Bro….”. It rolled off our tongue lazily. Something about it just felt natural. “Parker, if you don’t stop… we’ll”. His mouth opened in a wide smile as he gave both pecs a squeeze. “I know. Enjoy the ride bro”. All at once the pieces of Parker rooted into brimmed with energy. “Fuck it, right? You should be thanking me for this… My body is my temple… and I’m letting you live in it. Thanking me is the least you could do.” Searing pain hit us both. Despite all this, he retained a crazed expression as he kept defiling his own soul. Bit after bit, I felt him kneed soul into mine. Though terrified, I couldn’t help but soften. This was truly a side of Parker I had never seen. Here he was, tainting himself- tainting us both- locking us to eternal damnation. Into one being. And he laughed while doing it. I could feel it in his depths. A raw aggression. A depraved, sexual hunger in him. One that swallowed me infinitesimally. One that strung me up inside him, fed me pieces of himself. Fed me too much of himself. Fed me to him. My head was spinning as the lines between us blurred even further. This new Parker coursed through me as he guided me to finish the job. Let’s sin in this temple together. The last, innocent piece of the original Parker spurted out of our soul in a torrent of spectral cum. We could see the weightlessness of it. We watched as it floated up to the dark sky. This remnant of the original Parker-the original me, would be mine. I drew the land into me, felt empowered by the flames as I jetted up. In unbelievable pace we ascended back to the living world. 
- - -
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Final bits of soul continued to ascend but with a swift, dark grip, we grabbed it and jammed it into our body’s chest. I watched my meat shudder at the feeling. It breathed into life, but remained unconscious. Our soul now brimming black, I caressed my perfected form in satisfaction. We were Parker. And we needed every bit of ourselves to be whole. On that note, I jammed our dick right into the Parker Meat body’s chest and watched as it shuddered. Caressing the face now wholly mine, I jammed our dick in again and again, reveling in the body’s shaking. I watched it claw into the floor, legs kicking and flaying in some automatic attempt to keep its own soul out. I only continued with faster and faster pace, grunting in his manly tone until finally-release. The invisible barrier around flesh punctured and I willed my spirit to pump bit after bit of myself into the small orifice. The Parker body only made gurgling noises as I streamed inside. Once all of me was finally home, I felt my flesh begin to enclose me and laughed as I felt the barrier reforge- only with me inside it this time. I made quick work of the last piece of the original Parker’s soul. Staining it black and integrating it into myself.
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Tears now flowed freely down Parker’s flush cheeks. His hands caressed his thick biceps in gratification. We were finally complete.  
I moaned as I felt myself overcome a familiar sensation that my old body often experienced. However, this sensation was entirely foreign to this Parker-flavored bod. Electricity coursed inside me, and moans turned into screams as shook back and forth in a downright religious experience. My back arched in violent delight and I felt the lights go out from my new pale, blue eyes. Parker’s first cum- our first cum together- absolute pleasure. My jaw slacked and drool began to escape as I was still reeling from the sensation.
Mess. I sat there panting for a second, chest and stomach soaked and coated in our liberation. I scooped a bit of the white and stared at it in my hand, watching this body’s own seed violently shudder and contort unnaturally before phasing into a dark mist. In demented glee, I felt the mist like an extension of myself and began feeding it into the rest of the untouched cum still outlining my abs. I licked my lips in savage pleasure as I watched as the rest of it slowly turn dark and soon felt it also under my control. Exquisite. I sent the small package of myself into the air, flying towards one of my teammates. Just a small piece to convince him to submit himself to Parker’s temple.
I couldn’t wait to show the town our new self. We are Parker. And all are welcome to worship at this temple. “Let us pray”.
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- - -
Now, have you accepted Parker as your personal lord and savior?
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433 notes · View notes
spliceyblues · 3 months
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Made an age sheet for Ellis, casually dropping a little bit more lore into her backstory.
As a young girl, Ellis has always been very passionate with music and would very often sing out loud. Her older sister thought to expand her passion through a community church and signed her up for the kids choir. Through there, she goes on to a public middle school where she meets most of her friends. At this stage in her life, she seemed the happiest, freeing, and laidback, especially in her academics, which did not look as…appealing. This catches her older sister’s attention, immediately registering her to an academic reform school in London without her knowledge. Fast forwarding to her freshman year at 14, she gets introduced to her new academy uniform, housing and establishments. Finally, as graduation season approaches, we get to see a few changes in appearance, establishing what she looked like before falling down the Twisted Wonderland rabbit hole. Literally.
154 notes · View notes
sorrowsofsilence · 3 months
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Sinful Inflictions
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Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x Fem!reader (oneshot)
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: Smut 18+ (PnV, pls wrap it b4 u tap it, fem!fingering, male!receiving), mentions of religion, religious themes, and slight anti-religion.
Prompt:
“Are you ready to pray to me?” He asked, “Then get on your knees and bow.”
It's easy to ignore the eyes of God when you've always had a thing for the priest's son.
Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @darkmxgician
(some tags are from older one-shots, so if you want on or off the tag list pls let me know! :3)
THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3
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You patted down the way-too-short floral skirt you dared to wear upon entering the church, dipping your head gently in greeting toward the priest as he stuck out his hand. Your lips reluctantly landed on his aging skin, hesitating for a moment.
“Good morning Father,” You said warmly, but behind your tone lingered distaste. He smiled as he greeted you back and your eyes shifted from his in aversion, before landing on the gentlemen ahead: His son.
Nicholas smiled at you, his gaze enticing as he dipped his fingers into the holy water, his middle and ring finger twirling in the pool for a moment too long. His hand trailed towards his chest, acknowledging the holy trinity in a cross as he stared, completely fixated.
A faint warmth tinted your nose as you followed, your fingers grazing along the water in doubt, following a fabricated praise. Nicholas’ eyes followed your every move before his eyebrow raised slightly. You gave him a polite nod as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing his chest lightly.
You sat down on one of the wooden pews, crossing your legs in anticipation. Would he sit next to you today?
You grew up with Nick, always attached at the hip. Your favourite day of the week was Sundays because you knew you’d get to spend time with the boy you’d been crushing on for years. As the two of you aged, neither had made any moves, despite the lasting tension always lingering between the two of you; until last week.
Last week Nick finally took a leap of faith, pushing you into the basement bathroom, and kissing you with complete desperation.
“I have been wanting to taste you for years.”
Smiling at his words you had pulled his body against yours, your hips rutting together. As you moaned against his lips Nick’s hands ran along your scalp before you then pulled away.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You had said, “Not under the eyes of God.”
Nick had scoffed, rolling his eyes as his lips attached to your neck, nipping and grazing at the skin, “I know you don’t believe any of it. You only ever come because I have to.”
His lips had trailed back up towards your ear, his warm breath cascading against you, “Plus if there’s a God, it’s fucking me.”
The two of you haven’t spoken since the kiss, but you squeezed your legs together in fervour, unsure of what today would bring.
As if he knew you were thinking of him, Nicholas slid into the same pew as you, gliding across the wood with ease. His slacks were loose, contrasting with his tight grey button-up that had the sleeves rolled just above the nape of his elbow.
He leaned into your side and your heart quickened at the minimal touch, averting your eyes as his devilish smile transcribed sinful thoughts.
“You want to get out of here?”
You looked around slowly before keeping your eyes ahead, worried others would hear as the choir began to sing, “Is that such a good idea Nicholas?”
His name fell off your tongue in a sultry tone, something that made him shift in his seat as he sat back up, facing the front.
“I need you,” he whispered.
With a racing heart, you dared not look toward him as your face warmed, “How?”
“In every way that you’ll let me.”
The breath that lingered in your lungs hitched in your throat, suffocating your mind with reprehensible images. You crossed your legs, squeezing your thighs together in shame as you imagined Nicholas’ hands roaming your bare skin. You had dreamed a dozen times of his disgraceful fingers pulling an orgasm from you in the church basement, your tongue bowing to his need and taking his moans as if they were yours.
You knew how wrong it would be to sneak off and succumb to lust, especially under the holy eyes of God in a place of worship; but the rush of how sinful it was, made you all the more lascivious.
“Meet me by the storage closet in five,” He spoke softly, but excitement radiated off of him as he slid off the pew and turned back towards the entrance. You didn’t turn to watch him, but swallowed with furor and counted down, waiting the allotted time.
Years of desire that had been pushed away led to this moment, and as your chest heaved nervously you excused yourself from the service, refusing to look at the congregation as you walked up the carpeted floor, entering the door that held the staircase to the basement.
With shakey legs, you followed the stairs down and turned a corner before being tugged toward someone.
Nicholas smiled down at you, his eyes lidded in infatuation as he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you close against him, the heat radiating off of his body while he began running a hand along your back.
“What do you mean in every way?” You pressed your head against his chest as you took in a deep breath.
“Don’t pretend to be so innocent,” his low chuckle vibrated as he pulled out a key from his pocket, and unwrapped his limbs from your own. Nick reached for the nob of the storage closet, unlocking it before pulling your wrist, and beckoning you inside.
He quickly locked it, tossing the key into his slacks before turning to face you, and pushing you back against the wall with his hands. You watched as he quickly licked his lips in anticipation, before gracing you with a sly smile.
“I can’t hold myself back anymore,” He said as he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment as you tried not to smile, your hips swaying against his as your stomach churned. Your hands ran up his shirt before resting clasped at the back of his neck, holding him.
“Tell me you feel the same,” He breathed, and you nodded, opening your eyes to meet his smokey irises. You watched each other, waiting.
He pleaded silently for an answer, and without hesitating you placed your lips against his in desperation, pulling him closer toward you as he moaned into the kiss.
Nick’s hand began to roam underneath your skirt, grabbing at the skin before smiling into your caress, “You didn’t wear shorts, and you’re wearing a thong?”
You felt him stiffen below you, his slacks tightening against your exposed thigh.
“I guess I did,” You laughed softly, letting your hands run up his long dark hair, clawing delicately at his scalp.
He kissed you again, this time with more fervour and hunger, ready to devour your shameful soul. His tongue danced along your bottom lip in a lustful beat as he allowed himself to dip his fingers in your underwear.
Your body clenched in longing as you began to push into his hand, desperate for his fingers to graze your adorning skin. You craved Nick’s fingers, and you needed him to know.
“Please,” You begged into his mouth, “Touch me.”
He chuckled at your plea but obeyed, his tattooed fingers parting your desire as he ran them earnestly between your folds. Your abdomen twisted as his palm brushed your clit, before his fingers sunk through your arousal.
The fabric of your skirt rode up your thighs, exposing Nicholas’ immoral actions. He pulled away from your lips to watch, his mouth agape in thirst as he pumped his fingers in and out, curling them skillfully.
Your legs began to buckle and your brows furrowed in pleasure, a quiet whimper crawling from your throat as Nicholas then caught your eyes. A slutty smile splayed on his lips as he proudly fucked you with his fingers in a synthetic sacrament.
The sound of your heavy breathing took over the small, musty, room as your peak built in your stomach, ready to be released. It didn’t take long for you to come, and Nicholas praised you in divinity.
In a ritualistic fashion, he pulled his fingers from you, placing them toward your lips. As if a new ordinance he then nodded for you to suck, and you did, licking his fingers clean of your sin.
Nick groaned unholy words as he blessed himself with the remnants of your orgasm, before tugging at your top.
You began to unbutton your blouse, and he followed, undoing his collared shirt. You both threw the garments to the ground, and Nick reached behind you, unclasping your bra to expose your chest.
“Are you ready to pray to me?” He asked, taking a step back in admiration for your body, before grabbing your hand and placing it on his waistband. You nodded eagerly.
“Then get on your knees and bow.”
You lowered to the ground in submission as you pulled his slacks down his legs, staring at the outline of his erection between the thin layer of his boxers. You tugged the underwear down, wrapping your hand softly around Nick’s arousal.
His hand found the back of your head as he pulled you toward him early, and you hungrily took him in your mouth, allowing your tongue to explore his skin.
You worshiped his body, bobbing your head in a rhythmic pattern as your hand stroked what was left. Your eyes flicked upward, watching Nick’s gaze fixated on your actions, as if he was in disbelief this was really happening.
“Jesus Christ,” He whimpered, hips beginning to thrust into your mouth.
You closed your eyes as you consumed him, your body shaking with lust and greed as you sucked.
“Baptise me,” you begged, and Nick laughed, pushing your head further down himself, forcing you to gag against his cock.
“I want to feel you wrapped around me,” He moaned as you gargled, pushing away to cough. You sucked in a deep breath as he pulled you off the ground, turning your body so you faced the wall.
Nicholas lifted the back of your skirt, a deep grumble erupting from his throat as his eyes devoured you while he stroked himself.
“Bend over and spread your legs,” He commanded and you pushed your chest into the wall, arching your back as far as you could to expose your ass toward your saviour.
You felt Nick’s fingers graze through your folds again, pushing his fingers into you in preparation before aligning himself from behind. You pressed your hips back toward him in desperation, anticipating the feeling of him filling you.
Finally, Nick pushed between your arousal and you cried, your unholy sounds masked by the sound of preaching above. The music of the gospels veiled the disgrace as he pounded into you relentlessly.
His fingers dug into the skin of your hips in lust as he gave into your body, the feeling of your combined souls inflicting a new feeling of complete adoration and need. Your bodies curated an insatiable yearning; an appetite of passion unleashing.
One of Nick’s hands reached to grip your hair, tugging your head back in libidinous urgency, hormones taking over.
Skin slapped together and you moaned from Nick’s thrusts, his body giving you everything he could. You wanted this feeling to last forever and you reached behind, gripping onto his hand that adorned you.
“There is no need to repent, for I am your mercy,” He said, fucking you senselessly with complete greed.
You didn’t care if God’s eyes were watching; you were ready to worship a new man.
+++++
off to hell i go woops
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444rockstargf · 1 month
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girl im so high rn i need euronynous who go to church w a super innocent reader and he slowly corrupts her (cnc 😛) and she starts to believe he is god xx
-🎀
thank you for this!!
"you're my religion." | euronymous
religion. - lana del rey
✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart@imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35
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female!reader x r!euronymous
word count: 622
contents: slightly smutty, public teasing, not proofread
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“you ever been to a place like this before, sugar-tits?“
euronymous’ arm tightened around your waist as he picked you up out of the passenger seat of his van, setting you on the sidewalk as you two gazed up at the large, white church in front of you. 
you looked up at him, shaking your head as he started to walk you to the entrance. it was a bright sunday morning, bringing in nicely dressed people of all sorts to listen to this morning’s sermon. pastel-coloured, overly-modest dresses heavily contrasted the skintight mini dress that euronymous had you put on for the occasion, revealing just enough of your cleavage and hips to make you stand out.
euronymous, dressed in black jeans (not torn, shockingly) and a black button-up shirt that was tight enough to show a sculpted figure underneath with his hair done up in a tight bun, leaving two strands out, looked down at you, watching as you fiddled with the cross necklace that rested in the valley of your breasts. from a normal person’s perspective, you and him looked like two whores ready to turn the church into a brothel.
you had to admit, you never thought that oystein aarseth, terror incarnated and the lord of chaos, would be taking you to church. you had made the mistake of stepping into his record store, mindlessly looking through his inventory. but he viewed you as a piece of fresh meat, ready to be chewed and swallowed.
you felt two of his fingers inching underneath your dress, finally resting on your ass as you and him walked into the church. instantly, you felt the disapproving glares of almost everybody on the premises. just as embarrassment began to coil in your gut, euronymous sat down in a little pew at the very back of the church, pulling you down by your hips until you were perched on his lap, his thigh between your legs and making your dress slowly move up your hips. he was loving the view. he had gotten front-row seats to the show of his life.
“you comfy like this, angel?” he wrapped his arms around you from behind, making you lean back on him a little more. you nodded, thanking the heavens that you were out of the pastor’s view. 
you felt euronymous’ hot breath hitting your back as the people in the church stood, rising as the choir began to sing hymns. you could just barely hear him muttering how his music was much better than this. his leg had started to bounce ever so slightly underneath you, your breath starting to hitch as he massaged slow circles onto your waist.
you bit your lip, suppressing a noise but letting a little whimper slip through your teeth. euronymous let his fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass, shaking his head with disapproval. “oh c’mon, baby. look at you, already becoming such a mess. you can’t just blatantly sin in the church.” he spoke tauntingly like he was a greater being chastising you for your misdemeanors.
you felt your cheeks burning up, partially from embarrassment, mainly because of lust. how sinful. you gasped softly as he pressed his knee into your burning core, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper to you, just as the sermon began. “i want you to behave yourself until we get out of here, got it?” he brought his hand to your cleavage, twirling the cross around your neck between his fingers. you swallowed hard, muttering quietly. “yes, euro…”
he gripped you tightly, almost to the point of pain. “yes, who?” his quiet whisper was edged with the sharpness of a blade, making your heartbeat spike one last time. 
“yes, master.”
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author's note: i did not write this with the intention of being blasphemous towards anyone's religion!
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cartermagazine · 4 months
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“Leather in the summer, silk in the winter. This is such an art, where do I begin uh. Used to sing tenor, in the church choir. Really I was flexin’, but the girls they were fine. I’m the type of guy that notice subtle signs. When I cuddle mine, she ain’t even tryin. To look sexy, but even if she was so what. Mother fucker grow up, don’t mean to be so abrupt. But that lets me, know that she’s a human being. And being human’s hard, on the boulevard. Girl you got it bad, glad I’m not one. But yet you got it good, you are the hot one.
But I’m Andre, Benjamin Andre to be exact. You hoped to meet a gentleman one day, well this is that. In fact, Dookie introduced at a show. About a year or so ago, I don’t know, mind slips me. I’m in the southern states, you know where all the pimps be. Dressin all boogey and carryin’ ugly cups. And yes you’re getting booed if your shit does not get down. And yes you’re getting sued by women who didn’t get up. Out their seat on the bus, and feet shouldn’t rust. And beat is a must, and we shouldn’t lust. But we do, I’m laughin’ at the calendars and clocks. Ascot to match the socks, what’s in your Speakerbox. Pink and Blue, you’re lolly gaggin, you’re slow pokin. You got me open, you’re playin wit me, darlin I’m not a toy. As if Anita Baker brings the joy, you’re a kiner, the Tyner meanin the real McCoy, I can’t wait.” - André 3000, I Can’t Wait, Sleepy Brown, OutKast
CARTER™️ Magazine
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