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#St Michael & All Angels

moreeverydaythings · 2 years

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Day 1476 - Church of St Michael and All Angels, Llanvihangel-Ystern-Llewern

#st michael #angels #all angels #church #religion #village #Llanvihangel-Ystern-Llewern #hike #hiking #walk #walking #offa's Dyke #Monmouthshire #Wales #Cymru #UK #1476

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prolifeproliberty · 2 years

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Blessed St. Michael and All Angels Sunday!

(Meant to post this earlier but it was also my dad’s birthday and the day got away from me)

(Link to the tune)

Lord God, We All To Thee Give Praise

The Lutheran Hymnal (1941) #254

1. Lord God, we all to Thee give praise,

Thanksgivings meet to Thee we raise,

That angel hosts Thou didst create

Around Thy glorious throne to wait.

2. They shine with light and heavenly grace

And constantly behold Thy face;

They heed Thy voice, they know it well,

In godly wisdom they excel.

3. They never rest nor sleep as we;

Their whole delight is but to be

With Thee, Lord Jesus, and to keep

Thy little flock, Thy lambs and sheep.

4. The ancient Dragon is their foe;

His envy and his wrath they know.

It always is his aim and pride

Thy Christian people to divide.

5. As he of old deceived the world

And into sin and death has hurled,

So he now subtly lies in wait

To ruin school and Church and State.

6. A Roaring lion, round he goes,

No halt nor rest he ever knows;

He seeks the Christians to devour

And slay them in his dreadful power.

7. But watchful is the angel band

That follows Christ on every hand

To guard His people where they go

And break the counsel of the Foe.

8. For this, now and in days to be,

Our praise shall rise, O Lord, to Thee,

Whom all the angel hosts adore

With grateful songs forevermore.

#Lutheran #Church #St. Michael #St. Michael and All Angels #Christianity #hymns #the Lutheran hymnal #confessional Lutheran

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fotochurch · 1 year

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The stunning Norman Church with 19th century frescoes in Garton on the Wolds, East Yorkshire

#st michael #all angels #church #yorkshire

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wilmontstudioarchive · 2 months

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Church of St Michael and All Angels, Millbrook, Bedfordshire, England

mid 1980s

#my own ai art #Mid 1980s #Church of St Michael and All Angels #Millbrook #Bedfordshire #England

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carn3 · 7 months

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The people are buried with the trees!

I can hear them breathing and the wind whispering!

#I got inspired by the photos below #witchcraft #angels #god loves all #st michael #repent or the fire will purify you #mine: edits

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grahamartuk · 11 months

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Beautiful painted medieval church - East Yorkshire

Church of St Michael and All Angels, Garton on the Wolds In the little East Yorkshire community of Garton-on-the-Wolds nestles the Church of St Michael and All Angels. This outwardly unassuming Norman church, built circa 1132 in their squat and square style, holds quite a surprise inside. The walls of the church are beautifully painted with Christian murals. The murals were painted in 1865 by…

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#St Michael and All Angels Church

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lxkeee · 3 months

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FLY ME TO THE MOON: THE SEVEN VIRTUES OF GOD

Notes: just some information about the seven virtues.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Rankings:

The seven virtues consist of seven angels from different triads.

The archangels are Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael/Reader, the virtues of justice, faith, and kindness.

The only dominion angel is Uriel, the virtue of wisdom.

The only seraphim angel is Jophiel, the virtue of beauty.

The only throne angel is Camuel, the virtue of courage.

The only power angel is Azrael, the angel of death.

Most would think the seraphim angels are the most powerful but it's actually the seven virtues who are the most powerful. Strength and power the seven virtues are better as they are in the front lines.

The seraphim angels listen to them.

The seven virtues stayed most of their time on earth, working their separate duties. They watched over the mortals.

Each virtue watches one continent of earth but they do take turns in each continent.

Each virtue has its own personal mansion in heaven.

Personality Dynamics:

The seven virtues think of each other like siblings or best friends at most.

Michael, obviously the older and the leader. Cares for the other six like an older brother does. Cold, serious and takes his role very seriously.

Gabriel, the second oldest. She's like a big sister. Quite a tease too.

Raphael, the third oldest. An introvert, doesn't know how to show affections. She used to but she's currently suffering depression and therefore has trouble understanding her emotions lately but she cares. Very cold and serious when in work mode but awkward and chill during their day off.

Uriel, the same age as Raphael. Very smart, often speaks like a poet or a crackhead and there's no in-between. Total sweetheart and always ready to help. Serious when doing his job.

Jophiel, the same age as Raphael. A flirt, likes teasing others and especially the other virtues. Hides away from responsibilities if he has the chance. If he can't then he would take his job very seriously.

Camuel, the same age as Raphael. Despite being the virtue of courage, he gets scared very easily. Strong though, so he can fight. Got along with the other virtues.

Azrael, the same age as Raphael. A very playful, mischievous, flirty, serious angel. He tends to make fun of others but knows when not to cross the lines. A little sadistic. Always have a smirk on his face, very condescending when in work mode.

The seven virtues both have work and relax mode. When working they are downright terrifyingly serious. But when they don't have any work then they are quite chill.

Michael barely gets any sleep. Functions with coffee 24/7.

Raphael barely has any motivation to do anything.

All seven virtues have sass in their tongues.

Uriel does dad jokes or corny jokes.

Jophiel the victim to listen to those jokes.

All seven of them are tired as fuck, very overworked lmao.

Michael and Azrael often argue cuz the reaper teases Michael. Tend to end up in a fight.

Gabriel tries to break it off and accidentally gets included in the fight.

Camuel the one who actually breaks it off.

Raphael is just there, already used to it.

Jophiel and Uriel watching the fight while eating popcorn, making bets.

Work:

Michael watches over the fairness and equality of earth. Keeping track of mortals' deeds.

Gabriel watches over the faiths of humans, offering guidance to mortals. She's the one who sends mortals' prayers to god.

Raphael watches over the sick and healthy. Providing health to the people who needed it.

Uriel watches over the people and keeps track of the progress made by humans.

Jophiel watches over nature and the non humans, making sure equality is present in all of god's creation.

Camuel watches over the people, providing protection.

Azrael the reaper of souls, guides souls to their destination in the afterlife. Updates the book of life that St. Peter uses so he'll know if there's a new soul that would arrive in heaven.

Day Off Dynamics:

Stays in heaven to recharge.

Often have sleepovers.

Gets very chaotic as they often have nights where they go out for drinks.

Game nights are nights of betrayal.

Michael sucks at uno.

Azrael kept on winning.

Loser does the winner's paperworks.

Gossips. Lots of gossips.

Whether it's heavenly tea or mortal ones.

Michael to Azrael during uno: “Right hand on the bible, god can strike me down if I'm lying. The mf is cheating!”

Yes, they swear.

Only when it's just the seven of them in the room.

Probably hibernates for two whole days.

Other fun facts:

Azrael has two floating or flying eye pets, he can use it to eavesdrop in heaven when he's on earth. It serves as his second pair of eyes. He's always watching.

Michael wields a sword.

Gabriel uses a book as she's more of a mage type of angel.

Raphael uses a sword.

Uriel uses a sword.

Jophiel uses a book to conjure spells.

Camuel uses a bow and arrow.

Azrael uses a staff that transforms into a scythe.

Jophiel accidentally turned himself a frog once and had to attend a virtues meeting in frog form. The others never let him forget.

Uriel drinks more wine than water.

The only girls in the seven virtues are Gabriel and Raphael.

[Y/n] is often rolled into a burrito by the others if she's depressed.

#hazbin hotel #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer morningstar x reader

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nov4-rocket5 · 3 months

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Of all the potential characters and players we might see in Season 2, I definitely think St. Michael is the one I'm most interested in (especially since Viv kind of teased him in a Discord Chat).

Though it'll be a pretty big plothole unto itself to try and explain how he's been around, but not taking any part in the Exterminations.

Being on Lucifer/Demon wrangling duty is his job. But he's also one of the friendliest and chillest of the angels in all 3 Abrahamic religions.

Even in the Paradise Lost, the story written from Lucifer's biased perspective, Michael is still a merciful guy who wants humanity's redeemption. He could easily be open to Charlie's project.

Meaning Vivzie will interpret him as either:

An abusive asshole who enjoys being the Favorite after kicking Lucifer from Heaven (though that's just... Adam all over again, which would feel really redundant).

Charlie's tough but fair, goodhearted uncle who hasn't been in touch with his brother and actually kind of misses him.

Personally I prefer the later option. Maybe have an episode where Mike disguises himself to check the hotel out for himself (because Lucifer won't let him anywhere near Charlie), and after seeing a lot of the attendees only there to avoid punishment instead of an actual desire to be better, gives Charlie some hard criticism, but leaves with some encouragement and advice.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin analysis #hazbin hotel theory #michael morningstar #hazbin hotel michael #vivziepop #vivzieverse #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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too-antigonish · 2 months

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So this is the geekiest thing I’ve ever posted about Endeavour…

I’ve been trying to write this thing about Exeunt and I keep getting distracted by details. This one is about the church where Joan and Jim get married—the same one where the infamous gunshot scene occurs at the end of Exeunt.

The church is called All Angels in the script. This is not the name of the actual church used for the location, so it was an intentional choice. The name “All Angels” is usually short for “St. Michael and All Angels”—and it’s not an uncommon name/dedication for Anglican or Catholic churches.

I’d bet money that Russell Lewis knew full well that St. Michael is the traditional patron saint of police officers when he wrote this into the story.

So as I was thinking about that little tidbit today, something from my long ago days in medieval studies occurred to me: For a variety of reasons that I won’t go into here, there’s a standard rule about older (i.e. many UK) churches dedicated to St. Michael. They were usually built on top of older pre-Christian religious sites.

So, the church where we symbolically have the "death" of Endeavour to make way for "Morse" is on a site that was previously…Pagan.

(Yes, I know it’s awful—but I think Morse would approve.)

#itv endeavour #endeavour morse #exeunt #endeavour trivia #medieval geekery #sometimes you know you'll sound ridiculous #and you post it anyway

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bllk-after-dark · 1 year

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ARCHANGEL.

an angel of greater than ordinary rank.

pairing. michael kaiser x fem!reader

content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, heavy christian mythology/theology, sex on sacred ground (church), kaiser is the archangel michael, reader is an altar server, sex on altar, loss of virginity, fingering, missionary & doggy style, not proofread/edited

summary. you've been serving in the st. michael church for many years, a simple duty in your life and yet you pray to him, the patron of the church you serve. and one day, heavenly flesh made mortal, he stands in front of you and asks for a serving.

word count. 3.9k

fallen angel. masterlist

Altar serving was something you do every sunday. Not because you loved it, that has passed a long time ago, when you were still a kid in awe, but because it was a duty and at this point, part of your routine. It was part of your life, born into a christian family that went to church every sunday. Your father has been an altar server too, long before they allowed girls to serve, and now your younger siblings were too. It was tradition, and tradition was not meant to be broken.

You were one of the eldest in the group, guiding the younger ones through their service, whispering their tasks during the mass. Having almost ten years of altar serving under your belt, you were not only allowed to help prepare and teach the new generation, but also assist the acolyte every sunday.

And while you may not love altar serving, it still brought you peace being here, in the church that has been named after the Archangel Michael. Saint Michael Church, a relatively big one for the small number of people in your commune. An old one too, with the ceilings filled with paintings with angels, but especially Archangel Michael. In fact, this church was the only one with paintings of angels who had other wing colors than white in your country.

This attracted some tourists, but the church was never overrun. It was a shame, then you often let your gaze wander during your servings, with your back straight and hands on your lap, taking in the Archangel Michael with his flaming sword, long blonde hair that takes the color of the sky at the tips and the feathers of his wings ruffled, blood and dirt sprinkled across them, but it could never hide the true beauty of his wings. Even the statues had wings that span at least two meters, and their tips, just like his hair, dipped in blue. Here and there was a golden feather found, as if someone had dripped molten gold on the wings.

Yes, the art in the church you served was unusual but truly beautiful. You may not believe in the Holy Father, not like your parents did, but you did find peace here. Maybe it was the sheer presence the angel radiated in his own church, maybe it was because you had so many memories here, practically grown up with him gazing down at you, but you liked it here.

You may no longer love the altar serving like you did as a child, but you still loved to stand here on holy ground, where only the priest and other servers were allowed, so near to the altar, so near to him. It made you feel special, maybe just for an hour, where you stood in a white robe, bringing bread and wine before the Archangel Michael. One of the statues was on the altar, taking more than half of the sacred table, leaving just enough space for the bible and the communion to be placed. It was a true artwork, just like all the other statues and paintings in the church, but the artist paid special attention to this one.

It was unknown why it stood here, when normally only a holy cross would be placed, but the statue has always been here and no one dared to change its place. You didn’t mind, because most sundays you could take in every detail of the artwork, sitting near to the altar.

And like many sundays in the past and possibly in the future, you’re the one helping cleaning up. Blowing out the candles, collecting the left behind songbooks and of course cleaning up after your fellow altar servers.

Yet unlike other sundays, you’re alone. The acolyte had to leave early, very apologetic but still asking you to finish everything up. You couldn’t deny her request, fully knowing how stressful her private life was with her family. And so you start doing all the task, a bit slower than usual now that you’re alone.

Cleaning up and tidying the altar is the last thing on your list and then you could finally go home. You watch your steps, carrying the bucket with wine first, then followed by all the other things you had to lock in the safe, since they’re made out of gold. In the end, you would put a big white clothing over the statue, preventing the light and dust from damaging the artwork. But you aren’t that far yet, still carrying bowls until the communion cup is left.

A gasp left your lips and the cup fell out of your hands, the sound of its impact on the marble floor ringing in your ears. Wings ruffled, feathers shifted and suddenly he looked at you. The statue made flesh. Archangel Michael.

He was kneeling on the altar, a white robe clinging on his frame, no sword or armor in sight, while his wings started to unfold themselves. So pretty, you could only think. The occasional golden feather almost glowing in the candle light, silver ones shimmering, white feathers almost blinding you but it was the blue ones that held your focus.

A chuckle ripped you out of the trance you were, enchanted by the beauty of the wings- real wings. He was grinning at you, eyes lit up in delight and a grin spreading on his lips.

“Little mortal, I see you’re serving on Holy Grounds named after mine,” he says, voice oh so angelic but also raspy, as if a mere whisper. But he speaks so clearly, his words ringing in your ears and you blink, shake your head, trying to get rid of- what is happening?

“I- I am… your Holiness,” you try. You don’t know how to address him, no one has ever told you how to address an angel. But he just shakes his head, another chuckle escaping his mouth and slips off the altar. He’s barefoot, you realize and he strides over to you, the end of his wings dragging over the floor. They seem heavy, you realize and as if he heard your thoughts (maybe he did, he is an angel after all, can they read the minds of mortals-) his right wing stretches first and the left one soon follows, and so you end up staring at the pair of wings, looming over you and showing hints of the true might Archangel Michael owns.

“You have no need for this, my devotee,” and your heart skips a few beats, eyes going wide when he calls you his devotee. Never have you thought of yourself as one, but now he utters those words, how can you deny it?

“I wish for you to call me Michael, it is my given name after all.” You can only nod and he seems satisfied by that. He stops a few steps in front of you, so near but so far away. Your brain tries to progress the situation, try to understand what your eyes see, but it’s your body that reacts in the end.

You sink on your knees, hands clasped in front of your chest and you bow your head.

“I am not worthy,” you murmur, because you aren’t. You do not believe in god, you do not pray to him, all your prayers, if you ever pray, go to him, to the Archangel Michael. “I am not worthy to see you, your- Michael. I am not worthy to be in your presence, I am-” The words stop and you press your eyes shut. A hand on your cheek makes you snap them open again, not being able to stop the gasp that leaves your mouth.

“Oh, but you are, little devotee of mine. You who are the only one who truly serves me, ever since she was a young girl. You are the most worthy of all.” He kneels in front of you, and still, he towers over your frame, his wings frozen in movement. At this moment, he looks so angelic and sinful at the same time. You shudder at your thoughts, suddenly infesting your mind, spreading and creating pictures in front of your eyes.

The ruffle of feathers makes you snap out of those filthy thoughts, eyes going wide when he pulls you closer, practically lifting you up. You’re frozen in his arms and can only watch in silence how his wings curl around the both of you.

“There is also no need for you to kneel,” he rasps right next to your ear and you shudder, suddenly aware of your hands placed on his half-nacked chest. “A follower so loyal… is allowed to stand in my presence.” But before you can answer him, before you can ask him all the questions you have, he sneaks his arm around your waist and pulls you even closer. A sudden gasp escapes your lips once more and you tremble in his arms, when he suddenly lets his hands wander to your neck.

“A follower so beautiful… little one, will you do me one more service?” He asks this as if you have the choice to refuse him. So you nod, thinking he will ask you to bring bread and wine, or to proclaim your belief in him.

But then he tilts your chin up and you stare at his beautiful blue eyes, enhanced by his long lashes and eyeliner. Who would’ve thought angels have eyeliner, you think hysterically, yet your thoughts go silent, when he presses his lips against yours. You don’t react, your whole body frozen as the angel continues to kiss you. And then the arm around your waist pulls you even closer, bodies pressed against each other and his wings curling tighter against the two of you.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you lean onto him, your arms circling around his neck. Your fingers brush over feathers and he moans against your lips, so sweet and sinful. And then- and then you finally return his desperate kiss, his tongue sneaking into your mouth, and you lose yourself. The simple soft kiss turns into something filthy, with your panting and his soft noises and oh what noises he makes. Small gasps, choked moans, all because he’s kissing you. You, nothing more but an altar server, nothing more than a mortal. Leaning closer, you let your lips move against his, inexperienced but it doesn’t matter. Not when he lowly groans or when you pant against his lips, trying to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe it. A man kissing and touching you, for the first time in your life-

“Allow me, devotee of mine. Allow me to see your naked skin, allow me to taste your flesh, allow me to feel your love,” he rasps, close to begging, eyes oh so pleading and you can’t deny him. You would never deny him and if it’s his wish to see, to taste and feel you, then you will strip naked, spread your legs and love him with all your heart and soul.

“Michael,” you whisper, close to his lips and press yourself closer to him. “Michael, take and use me to your wishes, and my heart will listen. I will love you, with mind, heart and soul, and only you.” His pupils are blown wide when you whisper your oath, binding your whole life and soul to him. You don’t even realize what you’ve done, but he does. He feels it, down to his core, the oath you gave to him, on his sacred ground. It makes his essence soar, his wings flutter and his cock harden.

A squeak escapes your lips, when he lifts you up, marching over to the altar and lays you down, all while he drapes his body over you, wings unfolded and feathers gleaming in the candle light. His breath fans over your face and your eyes widen, when he slowly crawls on the holy table.

“Michael, shouldn’t we-,” you try to ask him, mind no longer clouded by his kisses but he just slams his lips on yours again and you forget your protests. Throwing your arms around him, your hands start to wander, hesitant at first to touch his bare skin. He grinds his hips against yours in response and he finally lets you breathe. Only now do you realize that he’s propping himself up on his arms, when he starts touching you with one hand as well. You shiver when he touches you below your shirt, riding up the fabric while he continues to ravish you. Moans leave your lips and you lift your legs to wrap them around his waist, trying to keep him close.

Canting your hips up, you grind onto him but it’s not enough. A whine escapes your lips, you want him closer, you want to touch all of him, you want him in you.

“Normally I am someone who is patient, but for you,” Michael starts to speak, voice raspy next to your neck, where he has pressed kisses and bites on your sensitive skin. “I want to take you, here on this holy table, here in my church and I will.” He rips your shirt off first, fabric flying off without resistance and you gulp at his casual show of strength. His eyes fixate on your simple bra, hiding your tits from him.

Michael looks feral to you, wings shifting every second, pupils blown wide but completely focused on you and your body below him. He doesn’t hesitate and rips off your bra, completely ignoring the fact he could simply open it and latches immediately on your right tit, sucking on your nipples and gently pulling on the other.

You gasp and moan at the new sensations, skin feverish and hot, while you bury a hand in his blond locks. He bites you and you tug his hair, making him groan while you beg for more. It’s new, it’s different, it’s filthy and dangerous, lying on the altar of the church you serve in, half naked while the Archangel Michael leaves his marks on your skin.

If anyone could see you right now… you and your whole family would lose face in the community. Even more than that. But you didn’t care, only caring about Michael’s hands and lips on your body, feeling him and his body and-

He suddenly kneels up, your own legs still between his, over you and shrugs off his white robe, revealing his whole form to you. Your eyes widen and you blush when he takes his cock in his hand without shame, slowly stroking it and watching you with half lidded eyes. His wings are once again spread and they flutter, when you sit up and place your hands on his thighs all while claiming his lips. Curiously, you start kneading his muscles, letting your hands wander until you can finally pull him closer. But he has other plans for you, sneaking his own hands to your waist and lifting you up, only to turn and seat you on his lap. He vanishes your last clothes as well, leaving you naked against him.

A pant leaves your mouth when he stretches his body over yours again, rutting his hips against yours, his cock against your pussy, making you gasp when he spreads your wetness and even touches your clit.

“Oh lord,” he groans close to your neck, lips ghosting over your skin once again and you feel so overwhelmed, overwhelmed with his presence, his touch-

“Michael,” you moan, a desperate sob bubbling out when his cock continues to rub against your pussy and not in you. “Please,” you start to beg. “Please, take me- Michael, have me, I’m ready, please-” and you are. Ready and open for him, your untouched and virgin body ready to have him but he just doesn’t take you. Tears spill in your eyes, frustration filling your mind and your body, but he just slowly continues to caress your body, hands wandering until his fingers dip into your pussy.

You cling onto him, nails ranking down his body, and you beg. You beg and plead, but he ignores you, humming when his fingers finally enter your pussy and start massaging your warm walls. It’s not really new to you, you’ve touched yourself several times, always in the darkness of your room, but it never brought you to an orgasm.

Yet Michael’s fingers make your cunt tingle, your thighs shake when his movements become faster and your moans louder. And when his thumb presses on your clit, you shriek, and start rutting against his hand. “More,” you pant, cheeks flushed and your legs spreading even more, so close-

He claims your lips, mouth parting and tongues dancing, while he presses another finger into you. With a gasp you remove your lips from his, eyes closing in ecstasy and head falling back. Another press of his thumb and a bite into your neck has you shrieking again, cumming for the first time in your life, on the fingers of Michael.

“What a darling you are,” he grumbles lowly, licking your reddened juices from his fingers while you try to blink the stars in your sight away. You whine his name, when he doesn’t touch you again and only stares at you. “You’re such a pretty creature, all for me and for me only.” He leans closer, his mouth almost kissing yours but only brushing against it.

“To think I was the first to ever touch you like this… oh, little devotee of mine, you’ve pleased me so well and you don’t even know it.” His words make you whimper, or maybe even his teasing lips that don’t kiss you. In the end he does, making you taste yourself and you can’t help but moan.

“Can you please- please, in me?” you try to ask, suddenly shy in actually voicing your desires. Getting fucked on an altar, what was wrong with you-

Head thrown back again, mouth wide open in a silent scream and he’s suddenly in you. Cock already moving, slowly but surely working into you, more and more. You just cling onto him, gasps leaving your lips and babbled pleas.

His hips move slowly first, so you could get used to his insane size, but it doesn’t take long until he pistons into you, driving hard and fast, and you can only hold onto him, legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

You can feel yourself getting close again, your voice echoing in the empty church and- his wings fluttering above you. Oh god, his wings. The feathers were ruffled, chaotic and they seemed to spasm, every time you clenched around him.

“Beloved mine, look at me,” he says to you, but you don’t hear him, so close to your orgasm and eyes fixated on his wings.

“I said,” he suddenly spat, voice ringing in your ears, “look at me.” The feral look in his eyes, his widened pupils and wings looming over you make you cum again. Your whole body shakes, all while you scream his name.

Instead of letting you rest, he grabs your right leg and hoists it over his shoulder, picking his pace up and chasing his own orgasm. You beg him to stop, oversensitive to a point where it’s almost hurting, your hands scrambling for anything to hold yourself but he doesn’t listen, doesn’t stop, fucking you stupid.

Tears start pooling in your eyes and your whimpers and moans turn into sobs. Michael is a monster, for fucking you so hard, fucking you so good, destroying you and your pussy. You don’t know if you want him to stop or not, want him to continue until you cum again or let your poor, aching pussy rest.

He doesn’t let you rest at all, only leaves your pussy for mere seconds, to turn your body on your stomach and you try to pick yourself up, but your limbs are weak. In the end it’s him who picks you up, hands on your waist, planting you on your knees and hands, only to drive into you again.

The hard material of the altar already makes your knees ache, but you forget about the pain as Michael fucks into you again. It’s fast and hard, punching the air out of your lungs and leaves you moaning and crying for more. Tears are running down your cheeks, and you have to lower your arms, now leaning on your elbows. You beg for him to finally let you cum, you beg for him to cum, to touch you, to hold you and he gives you all that, if not more.

Draping himself over you, he whispers praise into your ear and you shudder, when his fingers find your clit again.

“One more, my devotee. Just one more, for me. Come for me, my beloved.” Hearing his praise, calling you beloved, calling you his and the fact he’s still fucking you, paired with his circling fingers has you cry out and cum with a shudder.

Your legs shake, your whole body seems to quiver, but he holds you strong and steady, only to follow you. His hips pressing onto yours, he fills you up and you can hear the rustling feathers over you, while swears and praise fall from his swollen lips.

Thrusting into you with his slowly softening dick, he draws some last whimpers out of you. It’s soft, how he turns you in his arms and keeps you close, his one wing draping over the both of you and hiding you from the world. He presses kisses on your front, cheeks and nose, leaving your lips for the last. Hands wander over your sweaty body and you blush under his half lidded gaze, suddenly ashamed of your nudity.

“There is no need for that, devotee of mine. You’ve taken me, and this well.” His voice suddenly drops. “You’ve taken me so well and you will take me again. And again and again.” His words make your eyes go wide and suddenly, you realize what exactly happened.

You just fucked someone on an altar. In a church. You got fucked by an angel, by Archangel Michael himself, on a freaking altar. You got ravished and stolen of your innocence– Michael took your virginity, here in a church and you had sex.

You can feel his cum dripping out of you, slowly running down and you press your legs together. Why did you suddenly want to make sure no drop of his cum would leave your pussy? Why did you have the sudden desire to-

But Michael doesn’t seem to realize your dilemma, still peppering kisses on your skin and face, absolutely blissful in the afterglow.

“I apologize for being so harsh but my desires got the better of me,” he suddenly speaks up again, completely ignoring his previous words. “Yet… will you allow me to take you again?” Seeing your surprised look, he chuckles and gives you a small peck on the lips.

“Not today, I shall let you rest,” he assures you, as if he just didn’t completely destroy you. But you didn’t care. The promise of another fucking, of another time like that, where he made you scream and cry, makes you shudder. You snuggle closer to him, wiggling your body against his, while the altar uncomfortably presses against your other side. Yet you don’t care, not when you’re being held by the most gorgeous man in the world, an angel and maybe… someone you would learn to love.

But that is something to worry about in the future. Now you enjoyed his fleeting touches, listening and blushing to his praise, oh his praise, and the warmth of the wing that acted like a blanket.

taglist. @scftbunni , @kaiser-samaa , @mikeysonlywhore , @dervaaas , @mi-kage , @yumik00001 , @miraculouscorazone

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anne. woo, i finally posted it. i'm so glad i have this monstrosity finally out and no longer in my drafts... already fearing the next part. dunno why i'm doing this to myself but then i think about angel!kaiser and i no longer question my sanity. enjoy!

#blue lock smut #michael kaiser x female reader #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser smut #bllk michael kaiser #bllk smut #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x reader #fallen angel — the series

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lauranalanthalasa · 9 months

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What if, once Aziraphale has been briefed about everything in Heaven, he is left alone in a white space, no windows to look at the world, no desk (do you remember, how Gabriel didn't have a desk), no books, no art, no music, no sound and - of course - no Crowley, and after being there for a while, he gets flashbacks of all the wonderful memories he has of being on earth, with Crowley.

Crowley rescuing his books and making the paint gun stain disappear. Crowley making Hamlet a hit and just meeting up with him at St. James Park. Dining at the Ritz and toasting the world. Just being at his book shop together. All the times they touched, the dancing. And you just see all the emotions that brings with it, played out by Michael Sheen. Aziraphale then remembers everything Crowley said to him before their last breakup - and everything he said back - and we see a kind of shocked and distressed understanding dawning on his face, because he finally starts to understand just what went so terribly wrong during this conversation.

And then he remembers the kiss. And - finally - a tear rolls down his face, accompanied by a faint smile while he hears Crowley's voice in his head "You are so clever! How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?!".

And then this feeling is back - well it didn't ever really leave, but it's starting to take over now: Everything would be better, if he were just near one particular person.

And then he finds a way to go back to Crowley. To apologise. To tell him, that he got it all wrong. That he never wanted for Crowley to become an Angel again, because he thought he wasn't good enough. That he loves him just the way he his. And that despite it all - even if it is too much to ask -...

#gos2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens meta #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands more like ineffable idiots #ineffable pain #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #why are you doing this to me #Why am I doing this to myself

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simplyavatrice · 3 months

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She feels the smoke burn deep in her lungs, mixing with the chilly morning air as she sits out on a random ass balcony all bundled up in the nicest fucking bathrobe she’s ever seen.

Ava doesn’t smoke very often, but occasionally she’ll have one after a really good fuck, or when she’s anxious and sadly this one is from the latter.

Because last night was fucking weird and very much a first when it comes to client interactions.

It isn’t the first time Ava’s had a nightmare when she’s been in bed with a client. It wasn't even the worst one she’s had.

They don’t happen very often, but they have forever had the worst fucking timing.

At least this time she probably won’t have to give anyone a refund for, quote, ruining their experience.

No, instead last night she had a nightmare and woke up thinking she was back in St. Michael’s with legs that didn't work and instead of being met with disgust and frustration, the only thing waiting for her was care and compassion.

Beatrice is a good person, Ava’s known that for a while now - but holy shit she is a good person.

The last thing Ava wants is for anyone to see her as a charity case. She isn’t. She can handle her shit and has been handling her own shit for a long fucking time.

Still, she can't shake how good it felt to have someone look after her. To look at her and not judge her, not weigh her down with feelings of guilt at being so needy.

Ava has no idea where to place someone like Beatrice, she’s confused and struggling to figure out if she’s even doing her job well. It feels sometimes like she’s taking more from Bea than she’s giving - and that’s now how it’s supposed to be.

Ava really wishes Beatrice would let them have sex so Ava could know she’s doing her job right.

The expected phone call comes a few minutes later, after she texted Chanel when she woke up and told her she had a nightmare.

“Hello?” She answers as she flicks off a bit of ash from her cigarette.

“You’re not smoking are you?”

Ava takes a deep drag, “Of course not,” she chokes out and Chanel laughs.

#avatrice #warrior nun #avatrice fanfiction #warrior nun fanfiction #i'm so excited for this chapter

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