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#thirst with me lads

impeccablebackside · 2 years

Note

How do the queens feel about face riding/getting their faces ridden?

Love the question anon, but you are just a touch late with it. I have already answered this before, so please read that post, and let me know if you want more information. I will not hesitate to expand on something that piques your interest. As a supporting article as well, please also read this answer about whether the queens like the taste of other queens. Both of those posts, specifically the second one, link to even more asks that further expand upon the blissful world built in this blog.

#again i love the question anon #keep sending more if you got more #there is an especially strong thirst to have a queen ride my face anon #it is simply one of the greatest things to me #i just want to be smothered by pussy #and shove my face in it #probably one of if not my biggest wants #i just think that would be pretty swell lads #goddamn the taste and visual of it all would just be stellar #definitely the dream

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neroushalvaus · 5 months

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Tumblr in the 60s

☮ monkeewholock follow

🎉🎉CONGRATULATIONS UNITED KINGDOM 🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉🎉BYE BYE GROSS INDECENCY!!!!🌈🌈🌈 62 countries have now legalized sexual activities between men🌈🌈🌈

🐞 homophilespock follow

SPIRK CAN FINALLY FUCK

🚀 starrfleet follow

They are American, not British... But I'm pretty sure spirk has always been able to fuck since the show is set in the future.

📻 lesbianbobdylan follow

Christ, this is not about your cutesy uwu yaoi otp, go outside and smoke some grass

10,8 t. notes

🌻 flowerpower follow

Politicians are not your friends but damn Kennedy is fine, I look at one (1) picture of him and my head literally explodes

🌻 flowerpower follow

...i just woke up, why is my askbox full

🌻 flowerpower follow

WHY IS HE TRENDING I'M SCARED

🌻 flowerpower follow

guys stop reblogging this it's been like five years i've changed

290,9 t. notes

🎹 nixonsafascist follow

do you think they call him little richard because he has a little. Richard

🎹 nixonsafascist follow

easy website

58,1 t. notes

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Being the only lesbian in your friend group sucks so bad. "beatles or stones??" i will kill you

🗣 lavendermenaceisreal-deactivated72537262

Disrespecting female social groups for male validation? Typical lesbian behaviour.

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Mike Jacker isnt gonna fuck you

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Oh no I think she couldn't handle that

77 notes

✌ draftdodgerdyke

DM me for the addresses of my Swedish and Canadian friends. Do not put your personal information in the reblogs.

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

You should be ashamed of yourself.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

huh??

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

I said, you should be ashamed of yourself. You disgust me. I assure you, when the commies attack us, you will not find your silly little post "groovy" anymore.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Jesus, don't flip your wig

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

My father fought in ww2 for you ungrateful degenerate.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Don't see what your daddy's unsexiness has to do with me and my lads taking a sexy sexy trip to Sweden.

#anyway only hot guys dodge the draft

587 notes

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

in every interview i watch of the beatles they are so DONE and trolling everybody, these fucking annoying BITCHES, i need them inside me so badly

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

#this but not john lennon #i just can't forget the heinous things he said about jesus

idk I actually think it was very sexy of him, stop trying to cancel john in my post

✝️ jesusrevolution follow

The reading comprehension on this website is piss poor. John literally didn't mean he was greater than Jesus or better than Jesus, he was just trying to make a point about the world becoming more secular. Cancel culture has gone too far.

🚷 to-hell-with-the-beatles follow

How dare you say we piss on the poor?? Jesus died for Mr Lennon's sins and it's not "cancelling" to send him a few respectably worded death threats to remind him of that. He cancelled our Lord first!

✝️ jesusrevolution follow

Girl Jesus literally said it's cool, I dropped acid yesterday and saw Him and He told me.

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

help the girls (christians) are fighting in my beatles thirst post

6,008 notes

🛼 donovandyke follow

I will be glued to the tv today. If you don't want to hear about it, just blacklist #moonlanding !!

0 notes

🗣 claudeberger4ever-deactivated98975287

Hi I'm new to the Hair musical fandom so I'm not super invested in the whole discourse, but I just felt like this needed to be said: Friendly reminder that not being against the war in Vietnam does not make you a bad person!

🥁 ringoforpresident follow

it literally does tho

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Another win for us hot guys

17,2 t. notes

#how do i TAG THIS #can i just tag this ''funny'' or is that patting myself on the back too much #memes #dashboard meme #dash meme #1960s #my friend tirlittan came up with ''draftdodgerdyke''#i want that fictional blogger carnally #funny #tumblr in the 60s

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aeyumicore · 2 months

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☾ .⭒˚ welcome to aeyumi's brain ⋆.˚ ☾

⋆.˚ ☾ about me: she/her. 24. asian american writer.

☾ .⭒˚ writing for: currently only writing for love and deepspace. may branch out in the future!

⋆.˚ ☾ favorite fandoms: jjk, lads, tot, bg3, hsr

☾ .⭒˚ thirsts for:

✦ lads: mostly zayne, but def all of them

✦ jjk: gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, toji fushiguro (yeah basically every penis in the show)

✦ tot: luke and marius

✦ bg3: astarion and halsin

✦ hsr: jing yuan, blade, dan heng

⋆.˚ ☾ links: x | ao3

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾

⋆.˚ ☾ masterlist ☾ .⭒˚

last updated: march 20, 2024

✦ zayne

✧ heart within reach - 5.6k words - smut

✧ what's mine - 10.7k words - smut

✧ business trip - 6.7k words - smut

✧ valentine's day headcannons - 800 words - fluff

✦ xavier

✧ she can't come to the phone right now - 3.1k words - smut

✧ heartstring symphony - 10.1k words - smut

✧ valentine's day headcannons - 800 words - fluff

✦ rafayel

✧ the sixth of march (rafayel birthday special) - 5.09k words - smut

✧ your fragrance - 10.4k words - smut

✧ valentine's day headcannons - 800 words - fluff

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thegnomelord · 6 months

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Got Your Tongue

CW: NSFW, first time blowjobs, Top Male reader, breath play, Implied Switch reader, Implied Switch Ghost, Ghost's self hate is showing, idk if I characterized him well, long word vomit fic again :/

Ya'll are free to thow requests/thirsts/asks my way, srs my brain rots can only go so far lads.

Ghost is like a feral cat; you never know what the fuck he's thinking and it drives you both up the wall. Hell, most of the time you can't tell if he actually wants to be with you.

You'll go days if not weeks without touching each other until you start pondering if you're going mad and looking too deep into whatever this is, and the next time you're doing something as mundane as making tea he'll suddenly be there— his large and firm chest pressing against your back and burying his face into your neck, wrapping strong arms around your waist and clamping his teeth on your neck deep and long enough to leave a bruise. And when you find your voice to ask what he's doing he'll give you a deep noncommittal grunt with a thousand meanings, grab the tea you were making and disappear like his namesake as if he hadn't just given you a heart attack.

Or after a deadly mission he'll use his overbearing bulk to bully you into the first secluded nook or broom closet or whatever he finds and push you against the wall until your ribs are groaning so he can steal the remaining air in your lungs with a harsh kiss that's more teeth than anything else. You can never mind his brutish ways when every kiss with him feels like the first and the last, desperate and eager you'll kiss him until you're both lightheaded and your hands are grabbing at his belt. But even the slightest attempt at going further will make things stop. "Good," He'll say in the same tone of voice like he's just won an argument, then he'll be gone again, leaving you confused and aroused.

Ghost isn't dumb, knows the state he leaves you in because he feels the same way — aroused and sad and confused and angry. He knows it's his fault, knows he should talk and ask for what he wants. But his childhood, his life, his death, had shaped him into a man of action and violence, and there's always this sick feeling he gets in his stomach when he holds you like he knows he'll break you like he has with everything else in his life; fuck up the first good thing he's had in a while.

Pathetic, he is.

Even more pathetic because he knows how smitten you are with him. He can feel your eyes on his body when he goes on a bulk, glued to his arse and thighs that barely fit in his jeans because of course that's where most of the calories go, knows you have to concentrate to keep your fingers to yourself because otherwise you'll be trying to squeeze and feel up and use the added chub his chest and stomach develops like a bloody stress ball.

He's a downright wretch for how your gaze makes him feel, how his heart hammers just a bit faster in his chest when you do a double take and how a sense of power burns in his veins when you snap at recruits after you catch them staring at his arse.

He's still shit at expressing that and it's getting on his nerves. Lucky for him, you're running out of patience too.

Next time he has you pinned to a wall after a mission it's in your shared bunkroom and you've been dancing( more like stumbling) around each other like dogs for weeks. He kisses you in the same desperate overbearing way he always does, like he expects to never see you again so he's taking everything you'll give him, your teeth clacking together and moans echoing into the other's mouth.

Your heart sinks like a stone when he pulls away to catch his breath, mask pulled up to his nose, muttering the dreaded "Good,".

You're quicker this time, each hand grabbing his arse cheek before he can disappear. "Not good." You pull him back into you, chests pressed together and hips shifting until you feel his cock against yours so you can swallow the sharp inhale he makes. "Stop fucking blue balling me."

"So fockin' needy." He grunts against your lips in a tone that makes it both a praise and an insult. Simon puts his paw of a hand on your sternum and tries to push you away, something white hot zapping up his spine when you don't yield, your chest hard and solid beneath his hand as if to spite his belief.

"Only because you keep scampering off." You argue and have half a mind to bat his hand off your chest but the fear of him leaving has your hands digging firmly into the meat of his arse. "Come on Si, talk to me, do you want this or am I barking up the wrong tree?"

He tries. His mouth opens slightly but trepidation and displaced anger clogs his throat, so he answers in his own way. Simon's hands slide to your shoulders and then to your head, pulling you painfully by the hair until you're kissing him again. He leans fully into you almost crushing you, and the strange buzz in his head when you don't even flinch that has him trying to convey through his body what he can't through his words.

"That's not an answer." He feels you frown against his lips before you're pulling your head back against his grip to look at his half covered face. "Just nod or shake your head, okay? Don't need an essay here."

He swallows and doesn't even have to think before he's nodding his head.

"Good." You can't even hide the relief you feel, tilting your head to kiss him softer before nibbling on his lip. "Can we get you out of those clothes? Need to see you so bad right now."

"Fine," He manages, pulls you by your hair to kiss you again, barely helping you when you try taking off his clothes. You've fucked before, but this feels different with you now on the receiving end instead of him, and he's grateful when you don't try taking off his mask so you don't see how nervous he is.

"Can you lay on the bed love? Wanna try something new, okay?" You say and greedily run your fingers along the light patch of his between his pecs, trailing down his happy trail to give his cock a few dry jerks.

He grunts, bites your shoulder in retaliation, before he submits and lets you rearrange him how you want. "What shit are you planning?" He demands as he looks at you from where he's laying across your bunk with his head hanging off the foot end of it, making blood rush to his head.

"Something good." You muse, unzipping your pants just enough to free your cock, and now Simon understand why you chose this position— it inverses your sizes, makes you loom over him and his cock throbs painfully at how small he suddenly feels. "You know you can tap out." You remind him.

His eyes shift to yours, blown so wide they're just pools of black, and he glares at you. "Stop wastin' time." He growls and reaches out to grip your thighs and all but throws you on him.

"Who's needy now?" You giggle when you catch yourself with your hands on his firm and chubby pecs, tilting your head down to watch him lay kisses and small licks along the underside of your shaft. God if the sight of it doesn't make your cock twitch, feeling his heartbeat as you squeeze and play with his pecs definitely does.

"Still you." He huffs and opens his mouth to take you inside, the new angle letting you easily push past his teeth and tongue and straight into his throat. He tries to breathe and fails, throat fluttering and gagging before you quickly pull out so he can breathe.

"Si-"

"Shu'it." He grows before you can ask if he's sure, pulling you by your thighs and taking your cock deep into his throat again. He's better this time, figuring out to relax his throat and hollow his cheeks and only breathe when you pull out just enough for air to pass through his larynx.

"God, fuck, Simon." You can't help but moan at how hot and tight his mouth is, stuck between watching his throat bulge from your cock and his entire body jiggle with every shallow thrust of your hips. The sight of his cock standing tall and proud just from how deep in his throat you are has you flexing your muscles and biting your lip in a desperate attempt not to cum immediately.

He groans, the sound vibrating around your shaft, his heart hammering in his ears louder and louder every time you bottom out. Distantly he knows he should want to fight back and gain control and dominate, like he should feel adrenaline and violence run through his veins because he can hardly breathe and has to struggle not to choke.

But he doesn't; the lack of oxygen hits his brain better than any drug on the market and makes his head nice and fuzzy and calm. He doesn't even feel his eyes close and just focuses on the feel of your cock in his throat with a sense of euphoria settling over his weary body and mind like a weighted blanket. He lets himself float in bliss, sometimes remembering to run his tongue over the veins in your cock or to suckle on it when only the tip remains inside.

He barely hears you praise him, your once careful pace quickly gaining speed and intensity when you see how fucked out he looks when his lips are stretched around the base of your shaft. Your deep thrusts make his body jiggle in a mesmerizing way, his thick thigs spreading open and cock leaking steady drops of precum.

"I'm not gonna last long Si." You try to warn him but Ghost just humms drunkly, suckling eagerly on your cock as best he can. Even blissed out he's good with his mouth, and you don't last long.

You pull out with just your tip remaining inside, letting him get in a deep breath before you're pushing inside balls deep, hunching over him and cumming down his gullet straight down his esophagus. He gurgles, throat bobbing as he swallows what he can and chokes on what he can't.

"You're okay, you're okay." You sooth, pulling out quickly and helping him sit up, smacking his back to help him breathe again. "You broken?"

He coughs, shaking his head numbly, voice low and scratchy when he says, "Negative."

Before you know it he's pulling you by your hair into a kiss. You melt into him, not bothered by your seed on his tongue as you kiss him back just as deeply as he does you. You pull away when you feel his hold weaken a bit, resting your forehead against his, wiping sweat from his cheek. "God you look so pretty."

He grunts, tugs on your hair in revenge for your words. You catch his eyes shift to his own cock. "Look what you caused." He mumbles, laying a chaste and drunk kiss on your lips. "Fix it."

You can't help but giggle, kissing him again as you feel him melt against you.

#centerpieces of the hoard #top reader #x reader #male reader #top male reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader

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anomanlyarchives · 8 months

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The Contract

A man was angrily stomping his heavy feet alongside the swimming pool, his undersized flip-flops regularly making a funny noise which somehow mitigated his intimidating appearance. He was, to say the least, huge. His body was swelling with muscles - strong, veiny arms, sculpted legs, and a couple of solid pecs protruding over a bulging musclegut. His face was not overly mature, but his big, although tidy, beard did make him look some sort of modern-day, fierce viking. However, just like his flip-flops, the tight briefs he was wearing did not seem to fit his frame entirely, largely exposing and highlighting his muscles.

As you may imagine, such a muscle beast did not go unnoticed. Everyone who was chilling by the pool couldn't help but stare at him, either attracted by him, jealous of him or simply despising his evident thirst for attention. What they didn't know, however, was that he was all but happy for all the stares he was receiving. Despite his striking appearance, he was trying so hard to ignore every single person who was looking at him, progressively walking faster.

The muscle beast finally stopped, menacingly towering over a group of young men around their early twenties. His eyes were locked on who seemed to be the boss of the little group, who had followed the big man's movements with a grin depicted on his face the entire time.

"What's with that look, sir? Something's wrong?", the young one asked. His group was giggling and whispering, not trying too hard to hide their comments about how ridiculous the man looked in his undersized swimming gear.

"We need to talk."

More giggling and whispering. The young boss defiantly looked at him for a few seconds before getting up with a sigh. "I'll be right back", he announced.

The man and the lad headed towards a quiet place, not so far from the pool. The big man looked around to make sure nobody could hear them. He was looking at the young one with a furious expression. "Seriously, man? I was with my family when I started changing! It's not fair!"

The younger one didn't seem to mind the scolding that much. Actually, even though the huge man was towering over him with a ferocious attitude, he didn't even seem to be bothered in the slightest. "Not fair? You signed a contract, kid". As he said so, a sheet of paper materialised in his hand.

"I know! But I'm fed up with your old body and your life. You said you'd only take my body for a couple hours at most, and you'd make sure I didn't need it to-"

"I don't remember saying that."

"You're a liar, you did!", the big man whined back, his deep, manly voice distorted into an unfitting lament.

The lad smirked and quickly read what was written on the sheet. "Even if I did, what's important is what's written on the contract you signed. And there's no mention about any kind of limitation for the swap. Ergo, I can take your body whenever I want. I couldn't give a fuck if your little family sees you transforming into a beast of a man."

The older man's face turned red in anger. "That's not what you said! You little-" he violently grabbed his former body, just to be repelled by a burning sensation.

A glimpse of malice flashed in the wizard's eyes, and his now young, attractive smile cracked. "Don't you dare to touch me, kid. I make the rules, and I can change them whenever I want." He was getting dangerously close to the stud, pushing him back towards the wall. They were facing one another, and their noses were mere inches apart. It was quite a paradoxical situation, as the much smaller, apparently armless kid was fiercely towering over that brawny beast of a man. "I could also decide to keep your body forever, and you could do nothing to stop me. Got it?"

The man gulped, and the young one seemed to enjoy it, as an amused smirk came back to his face. "Your friends seem to enjoy my personality more, too. They're wondering why you got so funny all of a sudden, you know? Besides", he ran his hand over the man's bulging abs, "everyone would like to be in your shoes right now. I know, maybe a little... too much. But, for a gay fellow like you, such a body is a blessing."

"H-how do you...", The stud stuttered.

"I'm not an idiot, kid. I could see it from the way you looked at me". The young guy suddenly grabbed the man's crotch. In response, the hunk startled, trying to hide his pleasure. It was no use: his dick was already fattening up, and his tight briefs left nothing to imagination.

"Bu-but... "

"No buts, kid", the wizard whispered in a seducing tone. "I know being older is boring and sucks, but... try to make good use of it, as long as you're in that enviable body. Look at you. You're a sexy, strong daddy. You can do whatever you want. You're free now, and with a spectacular body." The older man gulped as the wizard let him free and stepped back. "Now, go."

The muscular giant moved, heading back to the swimming pool. Before disappearing, he stopped and turned back towards his former body. "When will I have my body back?"

The wizard shrugged. "Erm... I'll need it until tonight, at least. And maybe tomorrow, too. I don't know if the guys are planning something for the next few days. Don't worry though, I'll give it back to you as your holiday ends."

The bulky stud hesitated for a few seconds. He then grunted and clumsily moved on, his undersized briefs hardly hiding his thick boner, and his large feet crushing his unfitting flip-flops.

"...if I feel like it", the wizard added in a whisper, a wide sneer on his face.

#male tf #male transformation #hunk #body swap #male body swap #gayhot #gay boys #gay male #gay men #male age progression #age progression #young adult to adult #old to young #young to old #magic #mine

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agendabymooner · 5 months

Text

long distance, england and all that romance fiasco ! oscar p. x ofc (filo!gen z!ofc)

summary: after a year of being together, they’ve finally found a way to shorten the distance of their relationship as paloma ‘lomi’ san pedro moved to england after a long immigration process.

content warning: use of explicit language, text messages, tweets, ig post, oscar and ofc slandering each other (affectionate), long distance relationship, fluff, allusions to sex, crackfic

note: been thinking about this man. thinking about writing a smut about him. enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

lomisanpedro added a story !

tagged oscarpiastri, mclaren

liked by landonorris, patriciooward, carlossainzjr

carlossainzjr i don’t like these photos of you and oscar without any space, paloma.

lomisanpedro me when i care: 🤥🤥🤥

user1 LIVE LAUGH LOVE LOMI 😭😭

user2 when she me when he i when

landonorris and i thought ldr means lana del rey liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro it is now landinho 😩

ninojames paloma in her afam era 🤩 liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro puta ka 😭 you’re a bitch

user3 NOT THE AFAM ERA BAHAHAHA

monamagdalena real 😭

mclaren me when she when she me we i- 😩😩 liked by lomisanpedro

oscarpiastri someone tell admin she’s using the account to thirst on patriciooward again 🤧 liked by lomisanpedro

mclaren someone tell oscar to not bring his gf to the tech centre for their anniversary again 😚

oscarpiastri but she said she wanted to tour england 😩

landonorris i still think it’s vile of you to take her to your workplace on your anniversary, lad. thoughts and prayers for you tho 🙏

user4 YALL TELLING ME HE WENT TO WORK ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY AND SHE JUST GOT ALONG WITH THAT?

lomisanpedro he called me a “good girl” and suddenly i am on a leash and agreed on everything he said🤧

user5 GIRLYPOP STOP TALKING 😭😭

user6 throw her to the horny jail 💀

oscarpiastri happy roomie happy life ❤️😍 liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro yessir 🫡🫡

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her-satanic-wiles · 3 months

Text

Masterlist ⛧ Lost in Translation Masterlist ⛧ Ao3

Words: 10.8k

Reading Time: 43 min

Warnings: angry sex, begging, biting, corruption kink, creampie, cum eating, cunnilingus, dry humping, fear kink?, groping, feelings of claustrophobia, hair pulling, low self-esteem, mentions of grooming (non-sexual), multiple orgasms, nipple play, pain kink, penetrative sex, PIV sex, possessive Copia, primal kink?, praise kink, pussy slapping, rough sex, semi-public sex, this is objectively filthy, unprotected sex (sash the dick to smash the slick, lads), vaginal sex

Taglist: @zombiesnips-blog @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @ellenokumura @thew0man @sodoswitchimage @the-real-eggplany @deathmimedream @love-is-all-you-need-13 @kadedoesthings @rosyerato @xshadyladyx @popiaswife @perpetratorwithaquill @punkiy50 @onlyhereforghost @kaijukimchi @copiaspet622 @jaymechaos @akayuki56

As the newly appointed Cardinal Copia struggles with the weight of a looming prophecy, a resilient scholar challenges the narrative, uncovering a conspiracy that reaches beyond the walls of the Ministry. The emergence of a forbidden love ignites a rebellion against a power-hungry Sister, whose thirst for control threatens to reshape the very foundations of the Church. Will the revelation of those schemes lead to liberation or plunge the Ministry into chaos?

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Your conversation with Copia left you feeling perturbed at best. Something didn’t sit right with you. As the Ministry’s librarian and main archivist, you knew most of the prophecies that circled the Church - none of them mentioned the antichrist’s Prime Mover, not that you could remember, anyway. That prophecy ate away at you, gnawing its way into your brain like a worm fig fly burrowing into an unripe fig.

Arriving back at the library, you were bombarded by Aisha and Riley, both of whom had seen Copia talking to you when he should have blessed you. Both had their concerns, of course, worried that you’d fall back into some kind of relationship with him and wind up with your heart broken again, but when they heard what you’d learned, they were just as stumped as you.

“It’s entirely possible that you’re wrong about this, ___.” Aisha said, her tone hesitant but still as honest as usual. “I don’t understand why someone would base their whole lives around a prophecy that wasn’t accurate… or real.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you replied, animated in your actions, “no one in their right mind would. I feel like I need to put on a tin-foil hat right now and go to my cork board, but I have read damn near every inch of this library. I’ve digested almost every single Satanic, religious text I can get my hands on. I’ve read all the prophecies we know of thus far - I just don’t remember this one specific one.”

“But,” Riley interjected, their tone just as measured as Aisha’s, “there are thousands of prophecies after all. You can’t expect to remember each one.”

“No, but I do expect to be reminded of them as I hear them. Of course, I couldn’t remember every single one in great detail, but I’d remember the gist at the very least.”

Aisha, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, I guess.”

Riley, “What can we do?”

“We? Bitch, I know you’re not dragging me into this stupid charade.”

“Look at it this way, the faster she figures out what the prophecy is, the faster she can move on and we can all forget this debacle.”

Aisha looked at you and clapped her hands. “Where do we begin?”

Well, that was the question. In a library filled with thousand-year-old texts, each with its own historical relevance and prophecies given by each author who just wanted attention or fame, where would one begin? When every book in that room carried mystical contents, it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. So, you all chose a large, mahogany table and set that up as your base, comandeering each seat and preventing anyone else from using it or interrupting you. Then, you all searched for and grabbed any historical text in reference to prophesies or the antichrist and dumped them all on the table. How many books were there in the end? How many stacks had piled up so high that you’d created yourselves a small prison? 300. 300 ancient, scholarly texts that had mention to the antichrist and relevant prophecies.

Aisha and Riley took it in turns to manage front desk for you, but both of them took a stack of books and a notepad with them so that they could continue the research in their down time. You, on the other hand, remained at the desk, allowing your other work to fall behind so you could figure this out. It was like your brain could only focus on one important task at a time, and when you discovered that this was important, it ended up taking top priority.

Daytime became nighttime, and nighttime became hazy cycles of reading relics and skimming over pages full of prophecies that blended into one another like a jumble of misplaced words. As the light from the lamp flickered across the tattered covers of the volumes, the library filled with the smell of old paper.

There were open books all around you, their yellowed pages teeming with historical descriptions of apocalyptic visions, and mysterious symbols. The prophecy’s complex language mingled with the deep religious debate, creating a maze of material that seemed designed to confuse rather than educate.

You carefully noted every detail that even slightly referred to the prophecy in question, cross-referenced sections, and compared the subtle differences between translations. Notes strewn all over the pages, a disorganised collage of your efforts to put the jigsaw together.

You kept getting the feeling that you were chasing shadows as you dug deeper into the texts, reaching for something that was evasive and eluded you every time you believed you had a lead. There were creases on your cheeks from exhaustion and the weight of the old books pressing down on your shoulders.

You worked side by side with Aisha and Riley, who translated texts, brought you food, and consoled you when you felt that you could no longer take the frustration any longer. The three of you formed an unofficial partnership to take on the mystery surrounding the prophecy.

Nights became days, and you couldn’t tell which day it was. Every page you turned echoed the murmur of countless seekers who had gone before you, the moments merging into an invisible blur.

And then, in the midst of the seemingly endless search, a faint glimmer of recognition sparked in your mind. A passage, hidden within the dense verses, bore a semblance to the prophecy in question. The revelation struck like lightning, awakening a surge of determination within you.

“No!” You said, much louder than you’d anticipated.

Riley and Aisha snapped their heads to your direction (as did the rest of the library goers who were startled by your outburst.) “What?” Riley asked, standing from their seat and leaning over the desk at you.

“The prophecy Copia and Sister Imperator believes just doesn’t exist. It’s like it’s been conflated from an old antichrist theory from centuries ago. Listen to this, “‘the antichrist will be born on the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year. Only then can he come forth and do Satan’s bidding, bring about the end times and raze a new Hell upon this Earth.’ This prophecy was taken from an old Catholic text and whoever deciphered it left footnotes and opinions.

“The translator doesn’t believe that the antichrist would bring about the end times, not in the way Catholics believe. Armageddon won’t pass as a rain of fire from the sky and the destruction of the planet, but more like a sociological shift that will destroy the Catholic church and bring education to those indoctrinated by Yhwh’s Bible.

“What I’m getting at is that there’s no mention at all of a wife for the antichrist, or if the antichrist will even produce an offspring at all. In fact, the author seems to believe that this sociological shift will become the antichrist’s final act - ‘the antichrist will die at the hands of the non-believers, messiah’d in the same way as their saviour, for only death can bring the motivation of the masses to call for a change of the system’.”

“So why does Sister Imperator place so much emphasis on the ‘wife-with-three-sixes-in-their-birth-date’ theory?” Aisha asked, putting her book down and looking at you.

You shrugged. “Maybe she’s mistaken?”

Riley shook their head. “No. Sister Imperator doesn’t make mistakes - she bends the Ministry to her will to benefit her. She’s far too smart to make mistakes as big as this.”

“You think this is more sinister?”

Riley nodded. “Surely she must have said something to you the last time you saw her?”

You began to shake your head, eyebrows furrowing at how hard you were thinking back to your conversation with her. “She told me to never let them see what they’ve done to me.”

“That was after you saw Copia fucking another person. I’m talking about before, when you felt like you had to go see him in the first place.”

You tried to remember everything that happened during that conversation, but it had become so long ago that the details had become a little fuzzy. “She did say something a bit strange now that I’m thinking about it. She said something like, ‘we didn’t work this hard for the Cardinal’s career for it to fail’ but the ‘we’ was an ‘I’ until she corrected herself.”

“See?”

Aisha, “So you think that Sister Imperator has organised this whole thing? Nah, I’m not buying it. If she organised this then why didn’t she make herself Mama and be done with it?”

“Because,” Riley rummaged through one of their piles of books and flicked to a page, “according to the Emeritus lore… mythology… whatever… the Satanic Church runs as a democratic type of monarchy - we can have a say on who we want to run the Church, but they have to come from the Emeritus bloodline given that they are, supposedly, direct descendants of Lord Lucifer Himself.

“Now, up until he became head of the Church, no one knew for sure who Cardinal Copia’s parents were. The amount of interest Sister Imperator showed on the kid made everyone believe Imperator was his mum, but no one could be certain if Papa Nihil was the Cardinal’s father. Just because the Cardinal has the typical Heterochromia doesn’t mean it’s real. Remember how people whispered about the idea that Imperator made the Cardinal wear contacts every day? It wasn’t until he became Head of the Church that people started accepting the Cardinal’s lineage, because only an Emeritus can lead the Church. Sister Imperator is not an Emeritus. She can’t directly lead the congregation. But her son can.”

“This sounds unbelievable.” Aisha claimed. “If the Cardinal was an Emeritus, then why is he still Cardinal? Why isn’t he Papa?”

Riley thought for a minute. “Maybe because Papa Nihil is still alive.”

“Then surely Papa Nihil would be Head of the Church right now, since Papa Terzo passed?”

“After last time?” You asked. “Nah, he wouldn’t take up that position again. Why do you think Papa Primo took over while Papa Nihil was still alive? Even if Papa Nihil wants to be the Head again, I don’t think the Clergy would let him.”

“Maybe that’s why the Cardinal is still Cardinal,” Riley added, “the Clergy won’t let another son ascend to Papalcy as long as a Papa is alive.”

“Which is why Papas Primo, Secondo and Terzo died.” You said quietly. “She said, ‘we didn’t work this hard for the Cardinal’s career for it to fail’, and we know the previous Papas didn’t die of natural causes…”

“They had to die because they would have fought back against Sister Imperator and her wishes!” Riley exclaimed closing their book and dropping it to the table. “My head is spinning.”

“But she said ‘we’,” Aisha thought aloud, “who’s ‘we’? She couldn’t have done all of this alone.”

“Aisha’s right,” you said, “this had to have been a group coup, there’s no way one woman could pull off three murders and an ascension all by herself.”

Aisha, “Well, Papa Nihil is still alive, so we know he must have been involved somehow.”

Riley, “Who stood to gain from the Cardinal’s ascension? Who did gain from the ascension? Who’s new to the Upper Clergy?”

You, “Cardinal García’s new, he wasn’t around before Papa Terzo.”

“Cardinal Dubois and Cardinal Li.”

“Archbishop Müller was bragging about his payrise in the bar not three weeks after Papa Terzo’s removal back in Sweden.”

“Now Cardinal Al-Farsi was removed from his position in the Upper Clergy, and we know it was because he was actively against the removal of Papa Terzo.” Riley looked at Aisha, now standing wide eyed and frozen in her spot. “Aisha?”

“Sister Evelyn Chandler.”

“Who?” You asked.

“She’s due to be the Cardinal’s Prime Mover in all of this, apparently she has three sixes in her birth date as well. No one benefits as much as she does.”

Your world came crashing down around you once again, your brain ticking into overdrive as you remembered catching Copia rocking against the other woman in his office months ago. During the first and only Mass you’d attended since then, you remembered seeing her wandering into the Basilica behind Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator as a third, important member of the family, but your mind was hyper-focussed on seeing Copia for the first time in so long, you almost didn’t register her. Almost.

In all the time since you caught them together, your mind had been all over the place. If the whole Ministry was talking about Sister Evelyn and the Cardinal, then how could you have missed it? The short answer was that you just weren’t listening. As a way to distract yourself from what had happened between you and Copia, once you’d left your home and re-entered society, you had holed yourself away in your office to work on the translations. Seeing her for the first time (truly seeing her, not just as a lump on Copia’s lap) during Mass, it didn’t register that she was the person grinding into Copia’s crotch, and that she had become important enough to be paraded to the entire congregation.

She never interacted with you, never acknowledged your presence, never looked at you, not that you’d noticed anyway. It was so easy to just not see her. But now it was all flooding into your brain, the idea that she and Sister Imperator could have orchestrated this whole thing behind Copia’s back.

Was Copia in on this?

No, he couldn’t possibly be. He seemed genuinely angry at the “prophecy” and how he’d have no part in it if he was given the option. Besides, no one advocated for Papa Terzo harder than Copia. Copia publicly looked up to Papa Terzo, worshipped him almost similarly to his worship of Satan. He wouldn’t be happy with the death of his half brother, not when he idolised him so much. Watching him from afar for as long as you did, meant you were able to see him in multiple different moods, and he mourned Papa Terzo. He mourned his half-brother for months, almost the whole year he’d been Head of the Church and leader of the Ghost Project. He definitely wouldn’t have gone through with it… right?

“So where do we go from here?” Aisha asked both you and Riley, pulling you out of your miniature crisis.

“Well,” Riley began, “I’m not entirely sure. We have all this circumstantial evidence, but there’s no proof of anything. Like I said, Sister Imperator’s smart, she’d hardly leave any physical proof of her crimes.”

Aisha turned to look at you. “You said you wanted to figure this out and now you have. All you have to do is present all of,” she gestured vaguely to the table, “this to the Cardinal and then you can move on.”

“What if he’s in on it?” You queried, your voice quiet and scared.

Riley shook their head. “Nah. The Cardinal’s a lot of things - ‘dumbass’ would be a word I’d use for him - but he’s not the kind of person to usurp the Satanic throne for his own personal or political gain. I mean, look at the man; he spent all his fifty years trying to be invisible. If it makes you feel any better, I think he’s a naïve and gullible idiot who’s so desperate for his mother’s love and approval, he’d do anything to appease her. You said yourself he doesn’t believe he’s the antichrist, right?”

“Right.”

“Well then, there you go. There’s your answer. He thinks he’s in this position because it’s the right and prophesied thing to do. Not because he’s a puppet in his mother’s games.”

Aisha’s tone was lighthearted. “Honestly, fair play to her. A bad bitch who knows what she wants. I admire that.” Both you and Riley looked at her with a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. “What?” She stood from her seat. “I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs.” She turned to walk away and raised her fist in the air. “Go live your best life, Queen!”

Riley sighed. “I hate her sometimes.”

“Mmm,” you agreed. “You gonna help me put these back?”

Riley sucked in air through their teeth and began to back away from the desk. “You know, I would, but Sister Kowalski said she needed help finding books about rituals and, you know, can’t let Sister Kowalski down.” They gestured to the table. “But you got this, right?”

You shot a middle finger at them.

“Atta girl!”

Setting the books back was a lonely task thanks to Riley’s disappearance and Aisha ‘working at the front desk so she can’t leave’. But it gave you chance to think about the situation at hand.

There was a crushing feeling of helplessness that descended over you as you carefully returned those old books to their shelves. With every book you placed back, the magnitude of the problem became more apparent and the weight of the knowledge you acquired felt like a burden. You felt exposed and helpless when you realised you were trapped in a web of deception and surrounded by people who had ulterior motives. The Ghouls and Sisters around you went about their business, oblivious to the storm building within you. You were more aware of your inner struggle in the library’s profound silence.

The sensation that you were just a pawn in a much bigger game lingered as you pushed a hefty volume back into its proper position. Your sanity was being tormented by doubts regarding Copia’s role, Sister Imperator’s actual motivations, and the possibility of Upper Clergy influence. Your impression of being trapped was echoed by the library’s walls, which seemed to be closing in on you.

Copia’s POV

With every passing hour, Copia was more and more convinced that he’d never see or hear from you again - at least in the way that he wanted to. He paced the floor of his office when he was alone inside of it, mind raging at the prospect of living his life without you. He was so convinced that you were running from him - and who could blame you? He felt like a sham, a joker with the hat of a Cardinal and all the responsibility of a Papa. Out of all of it, all the attention and the duties, he only wanted you. And he was tormenting himself as punishment for doing stupid things that could lose you in the end.

A knock on the door interrupted Copia’s thoughts as he paced his office, gripped by the agony of possible loss. Startled, he turned to face the entryway, a glimmer of anticipation replacing the dread etched on his features. “Come in,” he called out, his voice a mix of apprehension and hope.

The door creaked open, and a Sibling stepped into the room. Copia thought he recognised this person, but being the head of the Church and living in the Ministry alongside thousands of other clergy members, everyone’s face was familiar to him. “Good afternoon, Your Dark Eminence,” they greeted cautiously, closing the door behind them. “Mind if I have a word?”

Copia, his expression a blend of curiosity and anxiety, gestured for Riley to proceed. “Of course, Sibling… uh…”

“Sibling Riley Martinez, Your Dark Eminence. I work with Sister ___ in the library.”

At the mention of your name, Copia’s stomach flipped. He was excited to know that you’d sent one of your friends to talk to him, but nervous at that exact fact. What did you not want to say? Or rather, why didn’t you want to convey your message yourself? Why did you send your friend as he would a Ghoul? “Ah, yes. Sibling Martinez, what brings you here? Is everything okay?”

“Well, Your Dark Eminence, no. May I?” Sibling Martinez gestured to the sofa in front of Copia’s desk. Copia nodded, and invited Sibling Martinez to sit.

They cleared their throat and began to tell Copia exactly what they and their friends had discovered. Copia listened carefully as Sibling Martinez revealed the information, each word hitting the weak spot in his heart like a hammer. The information weighed heavily on him, and a hint of resentment started to peek through the gaps in his calm demeanour. Fury couldn’t even begin to cover how Copia felt. His wrath simmered beneath the surface as the truth came to light. His hands balled into fists as he tried to control the flood of feelings that were about to explode; not that Sibling Martinez would know, from the outside Copia looked calm and collected, as if he was just listening to any old story. But on the inside, he was seething…

Sibling Martinez continued to share the discoveries, detailing the inconsistencies in the supposed prophecy and connecting the dots to Sister Imperator’s potential involvement in a larger, more sinister plan. Copia’s jaw tightened, his frustration morphing into a potent mixture of anger and betrayal. “So, she’s been playing me all along,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sibling Martinez. The realisation was a bitter pill to swallow, and the taste of deceit lingered in his mouth.

“Sister ___ also suspects that Sister Evelyn Chandler is a key player in all of this. The three sixes in her birth date, the sudden rise in her status—”

The anger within Copia surged to the forefront. He slammed his hand against the desk, the impact resonating through the room. “Maledizione!” he exclaimed, his frustration breaking through. “I trusted them. I trusted Sister Imperator. And I thought Evelyn was just a pawn, but they’ve been orchestrating this entire thing.”

Sibling Martinez nodded, acknowledging the weight of the revelation. “It seems that way, Your Dark Eminence. Sister ___ would have wanted you to know. She’s trying to make sense of it all, just like you are. She doesn’t know what to do about any of this, though.”

Copia paced the room, the fire of betrayal burning within him. “And you? What do you think of all this?” he asked, his gaze piercing into Sibling Martinez’s eyes.

Sibling Martinez hesitated for a moment before responding, “It’s a lot to take in, Your Dark Eminence. But if there’s a plot against you, we want to help expose it.”

Copia continued to pace the room, his mind brimming and full with fresh rage. The cogs in his brain were ticking over and over. Something about Sister Evelyn’s involvement didn’t quite add up, though. If the plot was based around a flimsy, untrue prophecy, then Sister Evelyn would know that it wasn’t real - yet, she, like Copia, was fully immersed in the whole farce. But what was the answer.

He stopped pacing and turned back to his guest. “Who did you say benefited from my ascension?” Sibling Martinez listed the known members of the Clergy and Copia clicked his fingers together. “You’re missing one. I’ve just discovered Sister Chandler’s involvement.”

“Your Dark Eminence?”

“Of course she benefits - of course she does. She becomes Prime Mover. But, she was unaware of this whole plot, I’m convinced.”

“So how is she involved?”

“It’s not her. It’s her father - Saltarian.”

“Cardinal Saltarian? I don’t know him, I’m sorry.”

Copia shook his head. “Not Cardinal, just Mr. He has no title. Mr. Saltarian has been in my life for almost thirty years at this point, a very good friend of my mother’s. There’s not much that he doesn’t know, to be truthful. He’s a spy to everyone - not a man to be trusted. He may not be a member of the Church per se, but I doubt my brother’s deaths didn’t line his back pockets in some capacity. Not to mention his daughter becoming my Prime Mover. That would give him a power that he wouldn’t have as a mere Cardinal.”

“So what are we going to do about this, Your Dark Eminence?”

Copia stopped and thought for a moment, weighing all of his options. “You do nothing.” Sibling Martinez went to protest but Copia continued. “For now at least. I appreciate you coming to me with this information, Sibling. And please thank Sister ___ for starting this whole investigation. After everything I’ve done to her, I don’t deserve it.”

“Well, she doesn’t want you suffering. What will you do?”

“I’m not sure.”

The truth was, Copia was sure, he just didn’t want word getting back to you. Not yet anyway. The way Copia was feeling, he was more than ready to burst into Sister Imperator’s office and confront her about all of this. It wasn’t until Sibling Martinez had left that Copia was able to straighten himself up and storm to his scheming mother’s office, and unfortunately for her, she was there.

He didn’t knock - he didn’t see the need. He was too angry for pleasantries and kindnesses. Sister Imperator didn’t have a guest, so he could get right to the point without disturbing another person. “Ah, Cardinal.” She said, an amiable smile on her face. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Three sixes in her birth date, hm, Sister? That’s why Sister Evelyn is to be my Prime Mover?” Copia’s attitude was foul, completely out of character for him.

“So the prophecy says.”

“So it is to do with the prophecy and nothing to do with Mr. Saltarian’s involvement in raising me to power?”

She was silent for a moment, just a brief second too long, but that was all the confirmation Copia needed.

“You are despicable.”

Sister Imperator’s expression remained stoic, her eyes meeting Copia’s with unwavering confidence. “Everything was done for the Church, for our cause. The emergence of the antichrist is a crucial moment in our history, and we can’t afford to let it slip away.”

Copia scoffed, the bitterness in his tone cutting through the air. “For the Church? Or for your own gain? Mr. Saltarian’s involvement, the manipulation of prophecies, the orchestration of all three of my brother’s deaths - all to secure power for yourself.”

Sister Imperator leaned back in her chair, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Power is a means to an end, Cardinal. Our mission is to bring about the reign of Satan on Earth. Sacrifices must be made, alliances forged, and obstacles removed.”

Copia’s anger intensified, a storm brewing within him. “You manipulated me, used me as a pawn in your game. And for what? To satisfy your thirst for control?”

“Control is essential in guiding the destiny of the Church. Your ascension was necessary, Cardinal. You were groomed for this role, and now, you stand at the precipice of a new era. To serve as the antichrist just as the prophecies have told!”

Copia shook his head, his disbelief transforming into a fiery resolve. “I won’t be a puppet in your schemes any longer. I won’t let you exploit the Church - and me - for your personal agenda.”

Sister Imperator chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “You’re still learning, my dear Cardinal. The puppeteer does not relinquish control so easily. The Church needs a leader, and you were chosen for a reason.”

Copia’s resolve saw through the complex web of deceit, and his eyes hardened. “I won’t play your games any longer. I’ll expose the truth to the congregation. They deserve to know the extent of your manipulation.”

“Expose me, my dear boy, and the entire congregation will work to overthrow you.”

“So be it. I never wanted this role - this was your dream.”

“You wouldn’t. Now, enough with this idiocy, Cardinal. You have duties to attend to and a ritual to prepare for.”

“I’m going to put a stop to this.”

“Mhmm. Of course you will.” Sister Imperator went back to fiddling with papers on her desk, making herself look busy in order to get Copia to leave.

With a blazing determination in his eyes, Copia left Sister Imperator’s words trailing behind him. The seriousness of the situation weighed on him, but he couldn’t turn his gaze away from the betrayal that had occurred. He wondered where to go next as he made his way more into the Ministry.

There was an unsettling silence in the hallways, and shadows played on the walls. Copia’s mind whirled with ideas about how the congregation would respond, potential partners he might discover, and the impending threat of Sister Imperator’s power. He knew he needed help, and he needed someone he could rely on.

Copia entered the library in search of comfort, the smell of ancient volumes and parchment reassuring him, and guiding him to a familiar room. He discovered you absorbed in your task, a serene determination on your face. The agony and turmoil of the past had given way to a steely resolution, a testament to your resilience.

You looked up as Copia entered, a mix of surprise and apprehension in your eyes. “Your Dark Eminence,” you greeted respectfully standing from your seat with your voice betraying no emotion. Your eyes were just as wide and doe-like as they were the last time he saw this expression on your face, except that time you wore his bedsheets as a dress. That time he ravished you on his dining room table and showed you absolutely no mercy. The mood he was in again, he didn’t want to show you any mercy again; he wanted you beneath him on that desk, screaming his name and taking everything he was willing to give, everything he felt like he had to give.

Was he wrong for feeling this way? Absolutely. After everything he put you through and after promising to wait for your answer, he should be doing that. He should be waiting for you to contact him. He should be giving you the space and time that you needed to work through this. But there was too much anger coursing through his veins, too much adrenaline working through his body with nowhere to go.

There was a look in his eyes that you’d never seen before - an anger that had never been present in all the time you’d observed him from afar, or spent directly in his presence. It terrified you - but had your core tightening in knots and aching for relief you’d not had in weeks. You wondered if you’d let him touch you like that again, if you’d give in to his urges in order to quell your own.

Copia opened his mouth as if to speak then closed it again. Despite his anger, he was still hesitating to get the words out. But he stepped closer to you, slowly, tentatively, as though moving would scare you off like the doe your eyes portrayed you to be. “You need to stop me if you don’t want this, amore.” He told you, his voice dangerously low and rumbling as he spoke. “Any word from you and I’ll walk away.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, breasts rising and falling with the heaviness of your breaths. Each step he took closer to you made you more and more breathless, your hairs standing on edge and your body tingling in anticipation.

He was right in front of you, a gloved hand reaching up to the back of your head and pulling at your hair from the roots, lifting your face to look directly into his and expose your neck. “If you don’t stop me, I’m going to bend you over this desk and take what belongs to me. Will you let me, amore? Will you let me inside you again?”

You whimpered, unable to trust your voice to convey your thoughts accurately. Your mouth was drier than it had ever been, saliva refusing to flood your mouth and whet your lips. Your whimper was the only response you could muster, and it clearly displeased the Cardinal.

He tugged harder on your hair, lifting your head a little further back. “Words, amore. Use them.”

“Y-yes, Cardinal. I-I… want you inside me.”

Though your words were barely a stuttered whisper, Copia still counted them. His lips smashed against yours, teeth banging against teeth as he encapsulated your lips in a rough kiss. The hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair moved to your waist, pulling you closer to his body while he pushed you back against the desk, trapping you between him and the wood just as he did the first time he had you back in London. His tongue entered your mouth, tasting you again for the first time in so long, and groaning at the sensation. He missed this - he missed you. There was a part of him that wanted to be gentle with you, but the rest of him was too tightly wound; he couldn’t bring himself to handle you with care.

He broke the kiss and stepped away from you just long enough for him to grip your hips with both of his hands and turn you around, before he pressed you back up against the desk. His hard cock tented beneath his jeans and cassock, bulging against your ass cheek and reminding you just how much he desired you, how much he craved and needed you.

Your palms were flat to the lacquered wood, leaning against the desk for some support while Copia had his way with you. His hips gently rocked against your body, desperately rubbing himself against you as his lips attached themselves to your neck, kissing and licking at the exposed skin there. In frustration, he pulled your habit off your head and threw it to the ground, before placing his hands back at your hips. But those hands wandered as they loved to do, grabbing and squeezing at your body roughly, getting their fill of you after weeks of being deprived. He gripped onto your love handles, your stomach, moving his way up and groping at your breasts, squeezing and rubbing them beneath his gloves and your clothes. He caught hold of your nipples between his thumb and finger, while his teeth captured your ear and bit down gently.

“Copia!” You breathed, your hands moving to sit on top of his as they tweaked and pulled at your clothed nipples. Small moans escaped your lips as he toyed with your body, your pussy dripping and screaming for some attention.

Copia chuckled and released your ear. “Is she needy, hm? Needy for her Cardinal’s cock?”

“Please.”

“Sathanas - you have no idea how much I missed hearing you beg for me, amore.” He let go of your right nipple and ran his hand down your body, stopping at your crotch. He covered your cunt with his hand and gripped it. “Are you wet enough for my cock, I wonder? Are you ready for a good,” he slapped your cunt, “rough,” another slap, “fucking, hm?”

“Yes, Copia! Please!”

He lifted your habit and dipped his fingers into the waistband of your panties, hooking them against the elastic. “Tell me, amore. Tell me how much you want me to bend you over this desk and pound this cunt.” He pulled them down just enough to completely expose your bare pussy to him, a string of your wetness snapping when the fabric was pulled too far down your thighs.

“I w-want you so deep inside me. I’m so desperate for your c-cock, Copia. Please… please give it to me.” As you spoke, you felt him reach beneath his cassock and fumble with his clothes to free himself. “Fuck me, please!”

His hand came up to your shoulder blades and pushed you down flat against the desk. The other fisted his cock, stroking a few times before lining himself up with your dripping wet entrance.

“I won’t be gentle with you, amore.” His warning was delivered more like a threat, but it had your walls clenching nonetheless.

“Make it hurt.” You whispered.

He pushed in all the way to the hilt, not bothering to take it slow. He let your words go to his head and set a relentless pace inside of you, hitting your cervix deliciously and making you scream out with each thrust. Your cunt opened up for him just as easily as it always did, further proof that you were made for him. His hips snapped slowly, but roughly, making your entire body jiggle with the force of each one, and the heavy desk to slide across the floor.

Sliding into you felt like sliding home. After all the time he was away from you, he couldn’t have you, and hold you in his arms, there was a massive bout of relief that washed over him. This felt good, it felt right. It was everything he needed after all this time. And you felt the same way. You didn’t realise just how much you needed him and missed him until that moment.

Copia’s grunts as he rammed his cock inside you filled the room alongside the loud squelch of your cunt swallowing him whole. His hands were now attached to your hips, gripping onto them as tightly as he could, leaving red marks and bruises in his wake. Copia was so long and thick that he stretched you out so nicely, and he always made you feel so good inside. By the time he was finished with you, you were usually a sore, shaky pile on the bed, with little ability to move or even think. You could feel your knees weakening as Copia rearranged your insides, your whole body turning to mush at his hard mercy - a mercy he wasn’t willing to show you as he picked up his speed but maintained his roughness.

There was a dull ache that came with the head of his cock slamming into you as hard as he did, but you worshipped the feeling. After going so long without feeling him stretch and fuck you, you needed to feel him, no matter how much burning came with it.

Your ass jiggled more than normal as you moved your hips to meet his thrusts and arched your back as far as you could for him. He let loose a torrent of profanities in Italian, each one telling you how you felt incredible for him, wrapped around him and squeezing him so fucking tightly he could hardly breathe.

“Made to take this cock, eh?” He huffed, his Cardinal paints dripping from his face with the exertion of his movements. “Built for me to fuck whenever I wanted to. Cazzo! I didn’t take you as much as I should have. Should have had you hanging off my dick every fucking day. Closest to fucking Heaven I’ll ever get. Fuck!”

“Right th-there! Oh, fuck, Copia! Right there!” You moved your hand down to your clit and began to rub at it, furiously stroking your bundle of nerves and tightening around him, causing him to let out a groan so deep and gutteral, it had you whining for him.

“Always so tight for me, amore.” He breathed as he watched the cream from your pussy gather at the base of his cock. “Always so wet and pliant, taking everything I give you like a good fucking girl.”

He started thrusting more rapidly and erratically. The fingers that had been gripping your hips clenched even more tightly than before, as if he was afraid you may vanish at any moment and leave him without an orgasm.

“Copia! You - fuck! - You’re gonna make me cu-cum!” You could feel your toes curling in your shoes, your brain turning to mush at the feeling of him rearranging your insides like he hadn’t done before.

“Tell me, please, amore! Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“Copia, n-nobody could… compare! Nobody could ever… make me cum… like you. Fuck, Copia, I’m so close. Please!” You continued to work yourself into a frenzy, rubbing quickly over your clit and applying more pressure, your other hand gripping onto the edge of the desk so tightly your knuckles were turning white.

Your cunt cinched tighter around him, making him feel almost choked. As you reached your peak, it became extremely hard for him to move inside of you. Copia felt his knees turn to jelly from the force of his body, forcing him to thrust within you one last time before spilling his load into your twitching hole, a strangled groan falling from his throat as he bent at the waist, sweaty forehead resting on your back while he was emptying himself into you.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He pulled out of you, ignoring your whine at the loss of connection. You turned your body as much as you could to watch Copia fall to his knees behind you, groping your ass cheeks and pushing them upwards, in turn spreading your labia apart and watching as his cum spilled from you like honey from a wand. “So fucking filthy for me, amore. What a gift for me, eh? I was blessed by the Dark One, no?” With his hands still pulling your body apart, he dove into your cunt, licking the dripping cum from your hole first before playing with your sensitive clit when he’d deemed your labia clean enough.

His tongue came down on your hole again causing you to cry out in sensitivity as he dipped his tongue inside you, scooping out his seed and swallowing everything he’d gathered. The one hand that played with your clit was now tangled in his salt and pepper hair, pushing him deeper into your pussy as it screamed for a second release.

“Amore, does my tongue feel that good?” He tormented you with his remarks, stroking over your clit with his gloved fingers in place of his mouth for a little while. “It’s that good that I could make you cry like that? Merda! Listen to yourself.” To prove his point, he started to suck on your clit more forcefully, making the squelch of your heat louder with each rough move.

Following his actions you tried again to stifle your cries by biting your lower lip, but it didn’t work. Instead, your cum leaked out of your body onto his face, soaking his moustache as you came a second time. He was moaning at your taste, and you could hear him slurping everything up, like he was sipping from a water fountain. It wasn’t until you physically pushed him away, your body exhausted and shaking that he finally stopped tormenting you with his tongue, and backed up.

Like an old man usually would, he groaned as he stood up from his knees, gripping onto the desk to help him stand as his own body wasn’t responding as it should. You chuckled at him, a lazy laugh spilling from your lips as you watched him rest against the desk, tucking his soft cock back beneath his clothes. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and his chin still glistened with your release, his hands not wiping him clean yet for reasons unbeknownst to you. So, you fought with your own weakness to stand in front of him, and kissed him, your tongue popping out from behind your lips and licking up your juices from his lips. Once you pulled away, you rubbed your thumb over his chin and wiped up the excess of your cum, sucking it into your mouth.

“You shouldn’t do things like that,” he complained, “I’m too tired to fuck you again. Give me a few minutes.”

You laughed. “Rest and recover, old man.” You said, tapping his chest with your hand. You began to pull your panties back up and make yourself presentable. “What brought all that on?”

Copia explained his reasoning for coming to find you, that he didn’t intend on fucking you within an inch of your life, but he saw you and he had too much energy, too much adrenaline, he just couldn’t help himself. You listened intently, affectionately holding onto his arm and pressing soft kisses there every now and then. It wasn’t until he’d been silent for a few seconds that you realised tears were beginning to fall from his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blubbed upon noticing you’d seen him, “I’m so sorry.”

Copia’s sudden apology caught you off guard. You reached up, gently wiping away the tears from his eyes. Concern crept into your voice as you asked, “What’s wrong, Copia? Why are you sorry?”

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “I… I just can’t believe how much I’ve hurt you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I want it so badly.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his eyes. You sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We can work through this, okay? We can figure things out together.”

He nodded, appreciating your understanding. “I love you, ___,” he confessed, his voice laced with sincerity. “I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t want to lose you.”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “I love you too, Copia. But…”

He cried a little harder. “No, please, no ‘but’. Anything but that…”

“Sister Evelyn’s still going to be your Prime Mover. And I don’t want to be your mistress and share you with other people. Not like that, anyway.”

He wiped a tear from his cheek and rubbed his nose with his glove, taking a sniff before he spoke again. “I never wanted her in the first place. And I don’t intend on going through the ritual with her. I didn’t to begin with, and I definitely don’t now. Please don’t walk away from me.” He pulled you into a tight embrace, holding onto you as if afraid you might slip away. In that moment, you both clung to the hope that love could conquer the challenges you faced, no matter how complicated they seemed.

You could feel a storm approaching as the weight of Copia’s remarks hung in the air. Even after his sincere admission and your mutual hug, an overwhelming feeling of doubt clouded your relationship. You could not deny the truth of Sister Evelyn’s existence in Copia’s life as he clung to you.

“I can’t promise everything will be okay, Copia,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the silence that followed. “I want to believe in us, but it’s hard when there’s someone else in the picture. And with Sister Imperator pushing for this, I don’t see how we can get passed this.”

Copia’s grip tightened, a mix of desperation and fear painted across his features. “I know I messed up, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, don’t leave me.”

Your heart ached at his plea, torn between the love you felt for him and the reality of the situation. “Copia, I need time. I need time to process everything and figure out what’s best for both of us.”

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of certainty. “Time,” he repeated, his voice carrying the weight of the unknown.

You nodded, tears welling up in your own eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, Copia. But I can’t be with you if it means sharing you with someone else. It’s just too much.”

A pained expression crossed Copia’s face, his emotions on full display. “What if… listen, the full moon and the ritual is in two days. Once the ritual is completed, nothing can change it. No Sister Imperator, no Sister Evelyn, no one. What if I performed it with you?”

Copia’s idea lingered in the air, an intriguing yet unsettling proposition. The weight of his words fell on the room, and you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of unease and want. The prospect of sharing such an intimate ritual with Copia sparked hope, but the history of grief and betrayal threw a shadow over the decision.

Your glance met his, looking for genuineness in his eyes. “The rite, Copia, is a sacred and binding ceremony. This isn’t something to take lightly. Are you sure that this is what you want? And can we honestly move on from what has happened?”

He nodded, a determined expression on his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. A life with you matters more to me than anything else.”

Despite your concerns, the honesty in Copia’s voice touched your heart. The thought of rewriting the story and starting again seemed appealing. However, the scars of the past warned of caution.“I want to believe in us, Copia,” you said, lowering your tone. “I’m scared. Is it possible for us to move passed everything that happened between us?”

Copia’s hand gently caressed your cheek. “I know it’s not going to be easy. It’s too late to undo the harm I caused you. But I’m willing to go to any length to get back what we had.”

His vulnerability mirrored yours, and for a brief time, you sensed a real yearning for redemption. The thought of standing at Copia’s side during the ceremony, rewriting the tale together, gave you a sense of hope. “One day, Copia. One day to think about it,” you said, your eyes locked with his. “If we’re going to do this, we need to be certain. No more secrets, no more pain.”

He nodded, understanding the weight of your words. “I’ll give you the time you need, ___.”

He kissed your hand and left the room, butterflies forming once more in his stomach. Copia couldn’t ignore the feelings of nervousness and optimism that swirled in his gut as he left your office. The weight of the coming ritual, the decision hanging in the balance, and the frailty of your connection all played out in his head like a symphony of doubts.

Copia returned to his office and slammed the door behind him, providing a brief respite from the turmoil outside. The room felt both familiar and foreign, reflecting his emotional rollercoaster ride. He took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself. His heart was warmed by the hope that lingered from your conversation. The thought of starting again and correcting the past with you by his side was a light in the shadows. Copia slumped on his desk, his thoughts racing with possibilities, worries, and a desire for a better future. For the first time in a long time, he felt a flicker of hope. The notion of sharing the sacred ceremony with you held out the potential of a new beginning. His ambition was fueled by a real desire to repair what had been broken.

As the night of the ceremony approached, the mood in the Ministry became electrified with excitement. The corridors were alive with whispered talks, and the air was thick with the weight of approaching events. The faithful assembled, dressed in ceremonial attire, and made their way to the Basilica di Lilith for the long-awaited ritual between Copia and Sister Evelyn.

You could feel the tension in the air like a physical force among the wave of followers. After careful consideration and talks with Riley and Aisha, the choice to carry out the rite alongside Copia was made. While the uncertainty persisted, a calm resolve grew within you. This was your night, the first night of many where you would be beside the man you loved - provided all went according to plan, of course.

Copia’s Ghouls had split, and the one half had made their way to a secret, smaller chapel in the Papa’s quarters: the Cappella di Venus, named after another woman who had been demonised by the Catholic Church, based from mistranslations, as usual. Catholics mistaking Venus rising before the Sun, bringing light to the world before the Sun had woken and drowned Her out, they had taken this to be a metaphor for the Devil challenging God, and in turn destroying everything She had, just as they had done for countless women throughout time; Hypatia, Jezebel, Lilith, Eve, Delilah. The list went on.

The Cappella di Venus, located in the heart of the Papal Quarters, radiated a sense of intimacy and secret that contrasted dramatically with the grandiosity of the Basilica di Lilith. Despite its modest size, the chapel was opulent and splendorous, providing a more private sanctuary for the Upper Clergy’s private rites.

The chapel’s entryway was embellished with beautifully carved wooden doors containing occult symbols. When these doors swung wide, they revealed an area that glistened with an otherworldly brilliance. The chapel was bathed in a warm and intimate brilliance from soft lights emanating from exquisite candelabras carefully positioned along the walls.

The architecture of the church reflected a bygone era, with vaulted ceilings covered in brilliantly coloured murals depicting scenes of celestial beauty. Every surface was embellished with gold highlights and intricate filigree, catching and reflecting the dancing candlelight. The air was fragrant with incense, producing an unearthly atmosphere that seemed to transcend the terrestrial realm.

The chapel’s centrepiece was a magnificent altar made of polished marble veined with deep crimson and ivory tones. A tapestry portraying the Emeritus bloodline’s symbol hung behind the altar, a quiet homage to the sacred lineage that ruled the ministry.

A life-sized statue of Venus, the venerated figure of love and beauty, presided over the chapel’s focal point. The statue was meticulously carved from marble and showed Venus with a calm look, carrying symbols of love and grace. Candlelight threw subtle shadows on the statue, giving the impression of movement within the stone.

The chapel’s velvet-cushioned pews formed a semicircle around the altar, creating an intimate atmosphere for the limited few who had access to this secret sanctuary. The chapel’s walls were embellished with stained glass windows representing images of historical significance to the Church, and tales from Venus’ mythology, transforming the ambient light into a kaleidoscope of colours that danced across the polished surfaces.

As you and the Ghouls took your places in the dimly lit chapel, the excitement in the air was obvious. Aisha and Riley stood by your side, bringing a mix of comfort and shared concern. The flowing shadows formed by the flickering candlelight created an atmosphere imbued with both mystery and holiness.

The atmosphere in the chapel appeared to increase in tensity as the minutes passed. The gentle rustle of velvet as Aisha shifted alongside you, as well as the occasional exchanged looks with Riley, expressed the shared fear. You cast sidelong looks towards the entryway, the carved wooden doors closed, separating you from the imminent ritual.

The Ghouls lined the chapel with solemn looks, dressed in their ceremonial attire. Their veiled features betrayed no emotion, adding to the seriousness of the situation. It was a dramatic contrast to the turmoil you were experiencing.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Copia wouldn’t arrive on time, that circumstances beyond anyone’s control would derail the meticulously prepared arrangements. The weight of the impending rite pressed in on you, increasing the anxiety with each passing second.

Everyone’s attention was drawn to the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor outside the chapel. The oak doors creaked open gently, exposing Copia standing there in his scarlet cardinal robes, the remainder of his Ghouls following behind him. As you caught his gaze, a rush of relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of anxiety. His eyes were a mix of tenacity and vulnerability, expressing the turmoil of his emotions.

Copia entered the chapel with measured steps, the doors closing behind him with a soft thud. The Ghouls separated to make way for him as he approached. The mood shifted, the coming ritual’s heaviness settling over the chapel like a heavy shield.

He took your hands into his as Aisha took her spot between the two of you, and placed a kiss on the back of them. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, “I had to dodge a few Sibling latecomers.”

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” You said, a smile on your red lips.

Aisha sighed. “It won’t be long before Imperator figures out what’s going on, can we get started please?”

In secret, Aisha had taken a white candle and carved it on two sides, one with the symbol of Venus, the other with the symbol of Lucifer - together representing the freedom to love whomever one chooses. The candle was placed in a dish, similar in shape to a martini glass (but the bowl was rounder and the stem was a little shorter) and while you and Copia held it, Aisha lit the candle. “May the Father guide you on your future together,” Aisha said as the candle began to burn down, “and may the Lover bless your union in Her name.” The candle would continue burning after the ceremony had been completed, and once it had burned away, it was said that the remaining smoke would help to bless the couple, and banish negative spirits.

A special oil had been concocted the day before, too, this time by Riley. Using the same book that Aisha was reading from during the ceremony, Riley had crafted an oil known to enhance love and bring abundance, made from roses, patchouli and vanilla, as a symbolic gesture to boost passion, and create a magnetic energy that drew people together. After the candle had begun burning, Aisha took the condiment-sized bowl filled with the oil, and drew the Satanic Cross over yours and Copia’s forehead, right where your third eye would be. “May Lucifer protect you and your union from outside evil.”

Venus, personified in the statue that overlooking the event, cast an ethereal gaze upon it. The warm glimmer of candlelight reflected off the Goddess’s marble face, granting Her presence an unearthly atmosphere, while the light of the full moon bathed the chapel in the rainbow of colours, as if she was bearing witness alongside Venus as well as lending Her power to the ceremony.

You and Copia swapped rings as the rite neared its conclusion, a symbolic union that Satanism kept given its roots in ancient Roman weddings. The ring planned for Sister Evelyn was now on your finger, already blessed and ready for a life bound to an Emeritus.

As the rite came to a close, you and Copia kissed, confirming the tie formed in the sacred chamber of the Cappella di Venus. The bond felt profound, a joining of fates that resisted the tyranny of a false prophecy. The kiss embodied relief, an unconscious acknowledgment that, for that brief moment, the outside world and its difficulties had vanished.

You could feel a gentle presence lingering in the chapel after the rite, as if the ghosts of Venus, Lucifer, and Lilith Themselves were looking over the unhallowed site. The energy left behind was a harmonic blend of celestial elements, and the flickering candlelight seemed to dance with renewed life.

It was done - and no one was able to stop or break it.

Barely thirty minutes after the ritual had completed, chaos broke loose. The consequences of your secret ritual were sure to make an appearance that night, given the fact that Copia had jilted his initial Prime Mover at the altar, and ruined the ritual for another month, but that was before Sisters Imperator and Evelyn had discovered the ritual had already been completed with another woman. They both came charging into Copia’s home - now yours, too - unannounced, Sister Evelyn’s red dress flowing behind her like a hellish princess only to find you and Copia entangled in each other’s arms after enjoying one another’s bodies, the blessed ring nestled comfortably on your finger and an uncharacteristic, shit-eating grin on Copia’s face.

The air crackled with unspoken tension as Sister Imperator’s stern expression deepened.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sister Imperator’s voice cut through the room like a whip. “Copia, explain yourself.”

Copia remained where he was, uncaring who saw you wrapped in his arms. You were both covered by sheets, but even still he felt both exposed yet powerful. “Isn’t it obvious? I chose ___ as my Prime Mover. The ritual has been completed.”

Sister Evelyn’s eyes flickered with a mixture of fury and hurt. “You… you betrayed me, Copia?”

Copia’s grin faded slightly, almost guilty. “Betrayal implies there was trust to begin with. I never intended to go through that ritual with you, Eve, and you know that. I suppose your father will be pissed, though.”

“Of course, he wants the best for me.”

Copia flinched, a cockiness coming from somewhere he’d never used before. It was turning you on to see, if you were being honest with yourself. “Will you tell her, or do I have to? Not fair to keep her in the dark now, is it, Sister?”

Sister Evelyn’s expression shifted from hurt to simmering anger. Her eyes bore into Copia, a storm of conflicting emotions playing out on her face. The revelation of her father’s involvement added another layer of complexity to the unfolding drama.

“I will handle this,” Sister Imperator interjected, her tone firm and commanding. “Evelyn, leave us. I need to speak with Copia alone.”

“No,” Sister Evelyn demanded, “someone is going to tell me what’s going on before I lose my shit at all of you! I’ve been jilted, humiliated and betrayed and now I demand some fucking answers!”

Copia’s defiance wavered for a moment, but then he sighed. “The prophecy is a farce, Eve. It was all a huge lie to get me in power so she could do what she wanted with the Church and your father could get a bit of control.”

“Her dad?” You gasped from beside Copia, earning you a slight chuckle from him. “Oh shit, that explains it.”

While he spoke, he still held onto you, his fingers stroking up and down your bare back softly. “The three sixes in a prophecy is for the antichrist, not for you.”

Sister Evelyn’s anger intensified at the revelation, and she shot a venomous glare at Sister Imperator. “Is this true?” She demanded, her voice sharp and accusatory.

Sister Imperator, ever composed, met Sister Evelyn’s gaze without flinching. “The prophecy was a means to an end, Evelyn. The emergence of the antichrist is crucial for the Church’s future. Copia’s ascension was a necessary step.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened, her disbelief evident. “But I thought… I thought I was meant to be his Prime Mover.”

Copia’s grip on you tightened, a silent reassurance amidst the unfolding chaos. “You were a pawn in this, just like me. I never wanted the ‘Papa’ role, I’m certainly no antichrist, and I’m sorry your fate was tangled up in this so your father could gain some power. Go, be free. Enjoy a new life with fewer responsibilities.”

Sister Evelyn, caught between hurt and anger, took a step back. “I can’t believe I let myself be manipulated like this.” She looked directly at Sister Imperator. “Fuck you. For all of this!”

“Hey, Eve?” Copia said, his voice gentle but the same shit-eating grin appearing on it as before. “We’re looking for a new Cardinal to fill the role in the Upper Clergy - how about it? A bit unconventional but I think you could do well, no?”

Sister Evelyn smiled, eyes never leaving Sister Imperator’s. “I’ll take it.”

Sister Imperator’s nostrils flared, her displeasure evident. She turned back to Copia, angrier than ever. “This disobedience will not be tolerated. You will face the consequences.”

“How?” You said, finally joining in on the conversation to deliver the final blow. “Exposing him means exposing you, too. Would you really want to risk it, Sister?”

A tense silence filled the room as Sister Imperator assessed the situation, her steely gaze shifting between Copia, Sister Evelyn, and you. The balance of power teetered on the brink, and the impending clash of wills hung in the air like a storm about to break. She hated not having the upper hand, not being in control and dominating the underlings. She was, however, a smart woman, who knew when to cut her losses and concede. But if either of you thought this would end here, you’d be wrong. She’d be back with something else, some other way to exert her power and control. But for now she simply muttered, “This isn’t over!” And stormed out, like the world’s worst Scooby Doo villain.

Sister Evelyn, no… Cardinal Evelyn, now with a pep in her step bid the both of you goodbye with the promise of seeing Copia on Monday to make good on his word, leaving the both of you alone in your marital bed.

You climbed on top of Copia’s lap, the bedsheets falling from your body and exposing your nakedness to him in all your glory. “You know, that confidence was very hot of you, Cardinal.” You said, your voice teasing and suggestive.

Copia laughed. “Oh was it, now?”

“Mhmm.”

“How hot?”

“Let me show you.”

And with that, you leaned down and kissed him, a passionate kiss that had him growing hard beneath you again, refractory period now over and ready to take you one final time before you both slept.

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

Hello, everyone! Mel here.

I just wanted to thank everyone for your continued support since I started posting Kinktober last year, but also now with Lost in Translation. It really means the world to me that you not only read my fics, but also leave comments and share it around, so thank you so, so much! Truly, you don't know how much this means to me.

I also want to thank @zombiesnips-blog for her commission, for her saintly patience, and for trusting me with her idea. This was an incredibly fun piece to work on and I cannot wait for the rest of you to see the next fic we have planned, which will be coming soon!

This is just a quick reminder that commissions are open and I have multiple membership options open, so if you are so kind as to support what I do, then I would be most appreciative. If not, I still am deeply thankful for your time and readership!

Much love!

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blood-starved-beast · 26 days

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how would you interpret Maria hugging hunter in her visceral? i always thought of it as some sort of mockery from her

Sort of, but in the way that her whole fight is sort of a "mockery" of the concept of a dashing Heroic romance (In the Shakespearean sense of the term). Let me explain.

First, we have to understand Maria's character design in that she is of the bifauxnen archetype. The bifauxnen is a handsome, gentleman-ly type woman portraying all the traits we associate with a dashing hero: courageous, refined and sometimes aristocratic, and androgynous. She is the counterpart to the bishonen, the contrast to the more coarse Lad-ette. The most famous of this archetype of course is Lady Oscar from Rose of Versailles. She is essentially a Female Prince.

The Lady Maria reflects this design. Out of all the Hunters and Byrgenwerth crew, she is the one dressed to the Nines, wearing dashing Cainhurst fashion to something that is essentially nasty and wet and all the other things (the Hunt). She's wearing jewelry (the Lumenflower brooch) the cravat, the fact she curls her hair, the aristocratic looks and backstory (the fact that she's the Lady Maria, a Knight of Cainhurst Vileblood royalty), the fact that she was the one taking care of the Research patients and they worship her, etc. Her outfit fits along the lines of the Lady Oscars, Alucards, and so forth. The fact that she is the only one to realize the atrocity of her actions, to regret her actions and reject her calling as a Hunter, is so fucking introspective at the cost of noticing Gehrman's mania for example reads very much in line of a Romantic hero. She is presenting a Look and this Look says she is meant to come off as rich, handsome, and heroic as she's slaying monsters. At least, those are the visual cues the player is meant to read in that sense. And that is carried over into her actions.

Lady Maria fights the Hunter to "liberate [them] from [their] wild curiosity" - she is taking the role again, of the hero. The villain here, being that need for Insight and she is saving the Hunter from the call of blood. She then engages you a fight, a dance really, set to waltz - again, playing with those romantic hero tropes (assuming you don't parry her to death). The visceral attack therefore, plays into that fantasy. She treats you so gently cause of course you are the Victim enslaved by your thirst for knowledge, she is the romantic hero, mercy killing you with the sweet kiss of death. She steadies you as your now heartless body bleeds out onto the floorboards of the clocktower.

But like everything in Bloodborne, there is a catch you see. Cause the Lady Maria is not a hero in fact; she is a bloody coward.

Yes, Maria is the only member of the Byrgenwerth crew (and amongst the few Hunter in general) to make a dry stop + u-turn from the Hunt and the atrocities associated with that. But unlike someone like Djura, who at least is trying to be productive in his redemption, Maria runs from her mistakes. She casts Rakuyo into the Well and leaves. She joins the Research Hall and contributes to more atrocities there, but hey at least all the patients there love her right?? (😬) And when her brooding (or maybe insanity? who says she was immune to the Beast plague? Or Kos infecting her brain??) was too much for her, she takes her own life instead of you know, working to dismantle the systems - both the Research Hall and the Hunt itself. Her issues and her guilt - that is more important to her than actually helping or saving people. She the Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, Lord over nothing else but the reminder of her greatest failure. Both in life and in death.

Cause you see, her stopping the Hunter isn't really about saving them from their wild curiosity. The Fishing Hamlet is dead and gone. The effects are echoing throughout all of Yharnam in this day and age. Heck, the Hunter just came in from the Research Hall itself. It is well and truly Known, to prevent future atrocities of that scale, one has to know the events that led to those atrocities in the First Place. Lady Maria isn't helping you, isn't saving you from anything you already knew to begin with. She is, once again, trying to alleviate her own guilt and shame and trying to prevent others of knowing of that shame. So she tries to kill you. But you know, in a Heroic way. Hence why the whole fight is a sham and mockery.

She also hates your guts. I consider this to be tertiary canon at best, but the deleted lines has it so that she calls you insufferable, and baits you to kill her. She Does Not Actually Give a Shit About You. It cannot be more blatant than that. And how couldn't she? You make her recall her greatest shame, force her to break the last of her principles (no Vilebloodbending) so that your ass does not learn of what she's done. You also keep coming back, so you're a constant reminder that no matter what she does, her actions really do mean nothing, not before, and definitely not now.

Also she stares at you like this the whole fight if looks could kill well, you would be dead and not coming back (The way you ought to. Bastard. Stay dead already!! - Lady Maria, probably):

So yeah, she is mocking you with a oh so sweet kiss from the Handsome Hero type as she rips your heart out (breaking it) and kills you very dead. Cause fuck the Hunter specifically.

#lady maria of the astral clocktower #bloodborne #my meta #me shaking Maria: YOU ARE SO STINKY!!! RATTY BASTARD #Also there is something to be said about how she cries out to the Moon Presence like Gehrman does when she's killed #but she never actually Made Contact with Her #Crying out to a God who is Deaf to Her #as she's dragged to Kosm Hell where she belongs!!#so yeah

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blingblong55 · 7 months

Text

TV Crush -141

Based on a request:

This is my first time sending a concept of mine so I apologise if my concept is absoulute dog shit So I'm from Ireland and rugby is extremely popular here and when I watch it me and my mom are really rowdy and we just flatout simp for some of the men so I can imagine a female reader at the TF141 base in the lounge just watching a rugby match and absolutely gawking over one of the players and soap joins in after being curious as to what the reader was doing and then the rest of the task force walk in the room to just the reader and soap absolutely drooling over the players😭 (Have a good day or night💋🎀)

F!Reader, platonic!relationship

Normal day at the base, you sit by the television, the common room has the best channels, especially your personal favourite, Sky Sports. The men at the base use it mainly for football, mainly Ghost and Price but you recently started to use it for Rugby. The sport is quite intriguing, fun and easy to follow along. And, as your weekly favourite match began, Soap rushed to the sofa with you. "Think they'll do the montage?" he asks you and you nod. "If they don't I'm sure, we'll see a fan-made one somewhere."

As the match went on, you gushed over George Ford and his beauty as well as how amazing he did in this match. Soap chuckled anytime you blushed or giggled at the camera angles the channel gave you. "holy fuck that man- Soap! Oh my...look at the- ah...dude...the fucking- oh my!" you kept hitting his arm and he laughed. "I mean, personally I think Anthony Watson is much better looking." You nod, "I mean he is hot- Soap...look at the way he looks at the other team!" you blush and he shakes his head. "And to think he is married- ow what was that for!" he says as he rubs his arm. "Don't you dare break my fangirl moment right now." A promise to another punch if he dares break your heart.

As you two argue and gush over the men, Gaz calls Price in. "Wouldn't surprise me if they were-" That's when he hears you and Soap giggle like school girls. "Never mind." price says and then Ghost walks in. "They're doing it again?" he asks the other two men who just nod.

"If he asked for it, I'd lick the sweat off him," you comment to which Soap playfully hits your arm. "Same but you're nasty out loud, lass." The three men just watch in amusement as Soap and you cheer for when the attractive men of the teams come on screen and boo when they aren't on screen. "One of these days we'll have to put them on leashes or they'll bite any man that resembles any of those lads." Gaz comments and Price, like a tired father nods. "They'll end up getting us in trouble if we don't control them."

"Agree with that." Ghost comments. After the match, you and Soap do the usual social media scan, looking for any of the thirst traps any other fan has made. But in the middle of the weekly blushing and thirst comments said out loud, you and he ended up thirsting over the much older but still attractive, older men in the acting industry. "I don't condone cheating but if he wanted to have fun for a night with me before going back to his wife, I'd give him a pass." A comment to which Soap nods, "Honestly if I were to be with this exquisite piece of art, I'd brag every minute of the day." You hum in agreement.

"They'll be the downfall of this task force." Price says before passing out a cloud of smoke. "Aye, but at least it gives us three hours to ourselves." Ghost comments. "Anyway, you lads want to head to the mess hall." Gaz offers and both men nod, to which they all leave the room. "Fuck do I need an older man inside of me." you sigh out and Soap pats your shoulder, "One day my friend."

A/N: I have no idea where this is headed...

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jhuzen · 1 year

Note

*pops open another beer 🍺*

helloooooo can u pls give me some sugar baby dottore hcs??? i am currently bent on him i need u to quench this thirst

the love in hatred [m.reader]

hope i’m not too late in quenching your thirst beer anon hsjsjdsj. i was busy with some uni things and only got to it now. hope you don’t mind me adding in a little spice in the dynamic ;D and i’m sure you like it nsfw so there are some little sprinkles of it lmao.

𖦹 modern au (but it’s not heavily implied), suggestive themes (of course), a little bit of dark themes, possessive dottore but he hates you at first lol, nsfw terms, reader is rich rich.

Imagine…

Sugar Baby Dottore who absolutely despises you and every fiber of your very being. You were the antithesis of his existence, absolute respite encompassed you while he was the unyielding scholar. He pursued knowledge until the very edge of Teyvat, while you sat back and relaxed, stopping because you ‘know your limits’. You’re a coward in his eyes, that’s what. But you’re a coward that can make a lot of money. And a coward that he can coerce into giving him financial aid in his experiments because he doesn’t want to lower his pride to ask Pantalone instead.

Sugar Baby Dottore who was welcomed by the not-so-cowardly you when he came to strike up a deal with you. No longer were you that chipper easygoing lad that he despised, but an incredibly emotionally constipated man that can barely work your facial muscles into a fake smile. It almost felt like getting bit back in the ass by the way you threw him off the loop. He no longer knew you the same way you no longer knew him. It’s a clean slate. But he still hates you.

Sugar Baby Dottore who was genuinely surprised that you didn’t need a lot of convincing. That you were willing to give him everything as long as he abides by certain rules and requests of yours. He hates it (and again, you), but he’d rather cut his throat than ask Pantalone for even a tiny pouch of mora. And while he’s relentless in his pursuit of knowledge, the man knows even the mora in his pockets have limits.

Sugar Baby Dottore who was relatively glad that you never once placed him under a tight budget. You were generous with him and maybe he sort of liked that all he had to do was spread his legs and tempt you into a good time. No attachment. As soon as the fun (for you at least) ends, Dottore wakes up with an allowance that any Northland Bank branch could only gawk at. It was ridiculously heavy.

Sugar Baby Dottore who only ever resorted to seducing you when he needs something at this very instant and his little impatient mind couldn’t bare you entertaining your big shot clients first. You promised you’d give him everything if he fucked you dry, right? Often times, when his impatience strikes, he’s already grabbing at the lapels of your pristine suit, tugging you away from your now confused clients while you and him screw in the empty room right next to your study. After milking you dry, he already has his greedy little palm out, expecting you to just drop your entire leather wallet on him (he’s hoarded so much of your wallets already).

Sugar Baby Dottore who at first finds your date nights annoying but necessary (to butter you up into buying him new laboratory apparatuses) — you’re so difficult to talk to! Unlike your days in youth when you would engage him with a small smile, you and your annoying stone face only prompted him to want to watch bacteria cultures grow in a petri dish. But the moment you start opening about your work the more he feels relatively intrigued.

Sugar Baby Dottore who’s slowly starting to cherish the little knickknacks you give him. He never really batted an eye to the souvenirs you’d bring home to him from your international trips. In fact, he used to cherish the times you were away. He still receives cash and he doesn’t have to fuck you. Anyway, he used to just ignore them and opted to only take interest in the money you give him for his lab equipment, but it’s recently that he’s staring more and more at the taxidermies of certain native species you gave him. And maybe some of those magnet things from each nation… if one looked behind his wheeled whiteboard, they could see some of the ones you brought home.

Sugar Baby Dottore who starts to get more conscious of how he looks around you and starts taking effort in looking good for you. Don’t get him wrong, he knows he looks good, it’s partly why you agreed immediately in financially supporting him. For his looks and his body. But there was something refreshing in making a conscious effort of looking even more alluring — absolutely loving the way your usually stern eyes just digging into his form.

Sugar Baby Dottore who’s slowly becoming addicted to your scent. Your imported colognes that he used to gag at, he’s now spraying into his suit before he heads to the laboratory, absolutely loving the way when your eyes twinkle in recognition at his new scent whenever he passes by you to get his daily allowance of a hundred thousand mora (how are you not broke yet, no one knows).

Sugar Baby Dottore who’s slowly feeling the grips of insanity when he realizes that his hatred for you is dissipating into nothingness. When he’s slowly looking forward to your cock shoved up inside him more and more. He hates that within the few months that you and him made that deal, he’s becoming more and more enamored to the mornings where he can still see you beside him, your big sturdy back facing him with all the scratch marks and love bites he made on you the night prior.

Sugar Baby Dottore who becomes far more possessive. Suddenly, the tables have turned. He thought he’d always have the upper hand, he could charm you with his body and there’s mora in his pocket in an instant. But somehow it’s him that gets hungrier and hungrier for you — he went on an all time high the one time you dropped by his laboratory to talk to him about something he doesn’t remember anymore. He likes the attention you’re giving him and archons, he wants you to have him as your sole object of affection. This man will go feral if you made external arrangements in your business trips.

Sugar Baby Dottore who’s becoming clingy to you. He can’t leave you alone for a second. His addiction of you festering within him. Suddenly, it’s not just about the mora that you’re giving him anymore. It’s suddenly turning into a matter of your loyalty to him, that one day you’ll make him your pretty wife, financially secured with his own laboratory in your mansion, leaving you no room for bargains while he stuffs himself with a mouthful of your delicious cock.

Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~

May you kiss your bachelor days goodbye now, because he’s never letting go of you.

Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~

Oh no! It seems like your pretty little doctor has moved onto the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~

Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~

#i hope this was worth your beer my guy #this was nice to write LMAO #someone give me a fic of sugar baby dottore i will fucking cave #i will love u #genshin impact x male reader #il dottore x male reader #dottore x male reader #dottore thirst #jhuzen’s stupid hcs #time to do the part 2 in that sagau thing that i did

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holdmytesseract · 8 months

Text

A Spell To Break?

model!Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Summary: When you have to witness Tom posing with another woman for a sexy perfume photoshoot, your insecurities are kicking in...

Warnings: thirst, angst, insecurities, swear words, fluff

Word Count: 4,3k

a/n: I couldn't help myself but to write a part three for this lil' series/AU. 👀 I had an idea and well... This is the result. I hope y'all enjoy it! 😁

Divider by the lovely @fictive-sl0th <3

Tagging: @lulubelle814 @km-ffluv @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @vbecker10 @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @mochie85 @chantsdemarins @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vanilla-daydreaming @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @evelyn-kingsley @the-princess-of-loki @acefeather2002 @chokeanddagger @smolvenger

°☆• Masterlist •☆° Hiddles Masterlist •☆°

Here's part one and part two of the model!Tom series. This can be also read as a stand-alone fic.

(Credits for the pic goes to @multifandom-worlds )

The day had started so good. Better than the most days. You woke up early - but in your boyfriend's arms, had a nice breakfast, three wonderful photoshoots that morning, and the coffee machine wasn't broken. That was how every work day should be supposed to go. It was a perfect day - until after your lunch break. That was when the dream started to turn in a nightmare...

You had one photo shooting left for the day. A very huge photo shooting, to say the least... A perfume ad - and it was for none other than 'Dolce & Gabbana'. Yes, no joke. After you had landed the Calvin Klein job almost two years back, quite a few other big shoots followed. 'Dolce & Gabbana' was the fifth one this year - and it was July...

And not just that... Quite a few things had changed within those two years. You still worked with your best friend Sam - but she had promoted you and suddenly, you owned this little company as well; were the second boss. Beside that, you had found your soulmate and were in a very happy relationship. Remember that handsome lad with the tattoos and piercings, Tom Hiddleston? The newcomer in the model business? Exactly. You two were a thing now - a big thing.

All in all, you could say that the Calvin Klein photoshoot had turned your life upside down - in the best way possible.

You were in the studio now, setting everything up for the said perfume ad. A green screen, small wind machine and your camera, of course. The clothes your models were supposed to wear, laid perfectly folded on the little table in the corner. Sam had forwarded you the email of 'Dolce & Gabbana's management, so you knew what they wanted and what the setup should be. They didn't want anything super special, but it was definitely... spicy and sexy. A couple on a stony beach, with the sea and waves in the background. Wet hair and clothes; paired up with intimate poses.

You were totally lost in adjusting the camera and tripod, when you suddenly felt two muscular arms sneaking around your waist; big, gentle hands crossing in front of your tummy. You couldn't help but flinch at first at the sudden contact, but when you saw the beautiful, black inked flowers wove around the strong arms embracing you, you relaxed immediately. "Tommy?" You asked; giggling like a schoolgirl, as you felt his lips on the exposed skin of your neck. "What are you doing here?" You heard a deep chuckle rumbling through your boyfriend's chest. "Your humour is truly something else, darling." Uhhh, okay… Now you were a bit confused.

Frowning, you turned in Tom's embrace, hands landing on his white t-shirt clad pecs. His beautiful smile greeted you instantly; alongside those stunning baby blues. "My... My humour? Tommy, I'm afraid I can't follow you at the moment." Tom's expression changed at your words; eyebrows slanting. "Baby, I think we are talking past each other. You asked me, why I'm here. I thought you made a cute, little joke. I'm here because of you." You blinked, "Because of me?" before your cheeks turned red. "You are visiting me at work? Awww, cutie pie, that's so sweet of you!" Tom giggled, but shook his head. "No, darling. I'm here because you booked me for this photoshoot."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, what? No, I... I didn't book you for this photoshoot. I booked a couple, 'cause the management of 'Dolce & Gabbana' asked for it, so I booked Nicky and Tessa. Not you." Tom was visibly confused now as well. "What? But... But Luke told me I was booked for this photoshoot. Perfume ad. 'Dolce & Gabbana'. And since you were listed as the photographer, I didn't ask further."

Your frown deepened. "That's quite a bit quaint and... strange. Something definitely went wrong." Tom shrugged his shoulders; tongue darting out to wet his lips, bringing his tongue piercing on full display. "Perhaps it was a misunderstanding?" "Could be, yes. But that doesn't answer the question who booked you. Clearly, I didn't, the management neither and Luke had nothing to do with it as well. Who booked you th-"

You weren't able to finish your sentence. The thud of the wooden door to the studio closing shut cut you off. High heels click-clacked over the floor; announcing another person's arrival. And then her voice cut through the air. A voice you hoped you'd never hear again. Not after everything that happened.

"I did. He is here, because I wanted him to be here." Instantly - like struck by lightning, you let go of your boyfriend; eyes landing on the woman with blonde hair, leather skirt and skintight red top; looking as arrogant and tarted up as always...

Ivy. Your former high school best friend. Emphasis on former.

Back in school, you were like the yin and yang to each other. Soulmates. Inseparable. Now? Now you were not even close to what once was. Now, you were enemies. Why? Well...

It all started with you both sharing the dream of becoming a professional photographer. You followed this dream together. Bought your first professional camera together. Applied to various photo studios together. You encouraged each other. Always. For years. At some point, Ivy decided to switch to the model business instead - a decision you supported wholeheartedly. Since both your jobs were quite similar, you kept on helping each other to reach your goals - until that one particular day...

You didn't really know where you both took the wrong path, but suddenly, Ivy distanced herself more and more from you. She became bitter, harsh and especially jealous. Perhaps because you landed a big job first, but who knew? You spent endless nights awake; pondering about why things went as they did. Why you were losing your best friend. What mistake you made to get the ball rolling. You didn't know. You just didn't know. It ate you up inside. So, you decided to confront her - which caused things to escalate and get even worse. You walked in that conversation with the hopes of you and Ivy reunite as best friends. Instead, you walked out as enemies. She hurt you to the bones that day; called you unspeakable things and spat right into your face that you were nothing more than a millstone around her leg. With that, Ivy just moved on, but loved to give you absolute hell once in a while. It was exhausting, but it didn't stop you from reaching for your dream. And then you met Sam. She picked up all your broken pieces and puzzled them back together. She became your best friend - a true friend. Someone you could trust with your life.

They say time heals all wounds - but not the wound Ivy inflicted you. It was a scar so deep; bound to stay forever carved into your soul.

"I-Ivy? What... What are you doing here?!" The blonde-haired woman gave you a spiteful smirk. "What do you think, silly? I'm the female model for this photoshoot." Your face fell. "W-What? But... But that can't be! I booked Nicky and Tessa a-and-" Ivy cut you off with a high-pitched laugh. "Oh, you wish you did, sweetheart. I changed it. Well, my management changed it. They asked me to choose a male model as well and I chose Tom." Now you were even more speechless - and utterly angry. The problem was, that Ivy knew Tom - and Tom knew Ivy. She had casted an eye on your beautiful boyfriend a long time ago, and when he fell in love with you and the two of you got together, Ivy bursted with jealousy. In her eyes, you weren't worthy of the sweet, polite gentleman.

You were quite a bit bewildered and stood in front of your boyfriend and former best friend like an absolute fool. "I-I... B-But this was supposed t-to be a couple photoshoot. Dolce & Gabbana asked specifically f-for a couple..." Your former best friend faked a surprised gasp; "They, uh, wanted a couple for this photoshoot?" and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh... Whoopsies. My bad. I didn't know that. Sorry, bestie. In that case, Tom and I have to make it look very real."

A breathless gasp left your lips at her words and you had to fight hard against the rising bile in your throat. All of a sudden, you felt like absolute shit. She knew. She knew - and did this on full purpose. Only to get her filthy hands on Tom and torture you. What a bitch.

Another bitchy giggle left Ivy's lips. "You don't look well, Y/N. Perhaps you should call it a day, go home and let this photoshoot do someone who can stay professional." That was the point where Tom couldn't just stand by anymore. He had to intervene. And he did. He walked the few steps up to you and placed a comforting hand on the small of your back. The handsome Brit wasn't able to change the situation, but he was able to help you.

"Perhaps you should go and get changed already, Ivy. I'd like to have a moment alone with my girlfriend." Tom audibly underlined the last two words of his sentence, while pulling you closer towards him. Ivy just answered with a fake smile, then stalked past you and Tom; vanishing in the small side room.

"Darling..." Your boyfriend addressed you immediately, once Ivy was out of earshot and took your smaller hands in his bigger ones. "I am so sorry about this. If I would've known I-" You shook your head; interrupting him. "No, it's not your fault, Tommy. It's entirely her fault." "That may be true, but if I would've talked earlier with you about this, I could've prevented it from happening. Now, I'm afraid we both can't change this situation. But I can assure you that this photo shooting is going to be purely professional. I'll do what I have to do, but it won't change anything." You nodded; trying to look confident. Tom knew you better, though. He knew how insecure you were about yourself. Letting go of your hand, he lifted his up to gently cup your chin. "Hey... I love you, sweet girl - and you better know it." Once again you nodded; giving him a small smile. "Love you, too." Tom pressed a sweet, lingering kiss on your lips, before he left to the other side room, in order to get changed as well.

Once everyone was ready, the photo shooting could start. You tried your best to stay completely professional; block out everything around you. You'd pull through this shooting like every other shooting - and you did. At some point, you were so focused, that you didn't see your boyfriend and ex best friend standing in front of you and posing together for a quite spicy perfume ad. You saw two clients; doing what they should do, in order to get the job done.

At this point you were confident to believe that you had tricked your mind and dodged Ivy's attempt to fuck you up. Little did you know, that everything would come back at you later...

It had gotten quite late. The photoshoot had taken more time than you had expected. After cleaning up the whole studio and sending Sam home, you decided to edit the photos you had just taken. You wanted to get over with it and move on.

Being still completely convinced of the strong wall you had built up around you, you sat down at your desk, connected the memory card to your computer and opened the program. When the first picture of Tom and Ivy came up, the walls came immediately tumbling down. It was the moment you realised, that these walls had been anything but strong; rather consisted of paper and not solid stone.

It was also the moment it dawned on you, that your mind couldn't be tricked. It had just tricked you into believing you had. How foolish, you thought of yourself. How fucking foolish.

With that, the damage was done. It got the stone rolling - and you wouldn't be able to stop it. You knew it. Your mind had you trapped now, and the bad thoughts - all your insecurities came crashing down on you; invading your system like poison. Every look on each picture hurt you more - and destiny had chosen one of the worst ones to start with...

It had been a picture you had taken towards the end. Scenery: Tom and Ivy were both wet; clothes absolutely drenched with water. Ivy wore nothing more than a scarce, white bikini; showing off everything she got - and Ivy got a lot. Way more than you did...

Tom wore a tight, white tank top, which literally clung to his chest, but also showed off his tattoos and especially nipple piercings. His hips and legs were clad in jeans dungarees - close to those who mechanics wore, but with the straps dangling loosely around his thick, muscular thighs. Of course, they were also wet. Water droplets ran down the skin of his neck, face and arms, causing him to look even sexier.

Ivy wasn't any less sexy. It was simply a fact. And the posture they were in didn't lack sexiness either. Quite the opposite...

Your former best friend stood in front of your boyfriend; literally clinging desperately to his wet body. Both her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, while they gazed each other deep in the eyes. Their heads were close; lips not far from touching. Tom's big hand was splayed out across Ivy's back; fingertips tantalisingly playing with the knot who held her bikini top together. It was perfect - and you hated it. Sure, you had told them to posture like that, 'cause 'Dolce & Gabbana' described something along that, since they had a TV ad which was similar, but nevertheless... It fucked with your brain. And the other pictures on which they were free to posture how they wanted weren't any better... Ivy being as close to Tom as somehow possible; always literally eye fucking him with her lusting gaze and touching him in places only you thought you were supposed to touch him. In one picture her hands were close to his ass - you could tell. Or in another, she was touching his pecs and six pack. Hence, she even had her hands in his hair once.

Watching all the pictures you had taken; it came all crashing down on you. But it wasn't jealousy, who poisoned and fogged up your brain, no... It were your insecurities who kicked in; causing you to fall down a deep, dark hole.

Seeing how utterly perfect Tom looked with a woman who was so much prettier and sexier than you could ever be, planted the toxic thought in your brain that you simply weren't good enough. Not pretty enough. Not sexy enough. Not smart enough. Not loveable enough. You were just you. And being just you didn't apply to Tom's standards. He was out of your league - by miles. What is he doing with a girl like me? you thought. He deserves someone better... Perhaps Ivy had been right all the time. You weren't worthy of such a handsome, loving and respectful man.

You clicked further through the pictures; tears starting to form in your eyes. Since you already were spiralling down that dark path, once thing was triggering another and fear joined the party. Fear of Tom leaving you. Why would he not? You're nobody, the voice in your brain whispered. He could get rid of you so easily. And he would. You were sure of it. One day, he was going to wake up and see. Tears trickled down your face by now, as emptiness spread within your stomach and radiating throughout your whole body, causing you to feel so utterly cold and lonely.

You had lost every sense of time, but you could tell that it was quite late. You didn't care, though. All you cared about was if you should leave Tom before he could leave you, or beg him on your knees to stay. Anyways… It was both pathetic...

By now, you had abandoned your computer and the pictures; said huddled in a corner of the little office and positively crying your eyes out.

Tom, who had waited for you at home for way longer than planned started to worry, of course. Always checking his phone and walking impatiently up and down in the cosy, little apartment you two shared. He got uneasy. You hadn't texted him and you also didn't pick up your phone. What if something happened? He decided to not just sit around longer. He couldn't. So, he grabbed the keys of his bike, alongside his leather jacket and helmet, and swung himself on the vehicle; riding straight to yours and Sam's photo studio.

When he arrived, he saw that no visible light was on in the building, giving him an even more uneasy feeling. The unlocked door didn't quite help. Quietly, he entered the studio; switching on the light. "Y/N?" No answer. "Sam?" No answer. He swallowed hard, but made his way through the studio; checking every room - which turned out to be either locked or neatly cleaned up; ready for the next day.

Tom's heart was literally beating out of his chest, as he went to check the last possible room you could be in... Your office. With a slightly shaking hand, he opened the door. The lights were out, but he could see that the computer was on and the only thing which casted a small ray of light through the darkened room, was the display of your camera - on which he recognised himself. Small, soft whines and whimpers could be heard, causing him to immediately switch on the light. And then he saw you. Curled up in a ball in the corner. Your body was shaking with sobs. Relieved, that he had finally found you, but nevertheless worried about the condition you were in, he literally threw his helmet aside and ran over to you.

"Y/N!" He said with relief; dropping to his knees beside you, "I thought something had happened to you! My texts stayed unanswered and whenever I called, you didn't pick up... Gods, I was so worried!" and immediately scooped you up in his arms. You let him hug you tightly for a few seconds, bathing in his embrace and how good he smelled, before your brain kicked in again and you started to push him away from you, leaving the handsome Brit confused.

Frowning, he pulled back - like you obviously requested and letting go of you. "Darling? What's wrong?" Tom tried to reach for your hands, put you avoided his touch. It confused him even more. "Love, what- Why are you crying? What happened?" You didn't answer him, but pushed yourself further against the wall in the corner; wrapping your arms around yourself and hiding your face. Your boyfriend tried to connect the dots; figure out what could be wrong - and suddenly it fell like scales from his eyes... The pictures. The photoshoot.

"Y/N..." He spoke your name with his deep, velvety - but hushed voice; addressing you gently. "Is this about the photo shooting I did with Ivy today?" Her name upon his lips caused the tears to fall even more. "Please... My love... Talk to me," the Brit literally begged; tongue playing nervously with his black labret piercing.

You looked then up at him; eyes swollen and red due to all the crying. "Don't... Don't call m-me that..." You whispered; shaking your head. "Don't call you what?" "L-Love... D-Darling..." "But why? You are my love and you certainly are my darling." You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head again. "'M not worthy." Your boyfriend frowned. "Not worthy?" You nodded, "Of your love. Of you." and shed another few tears. "You deserve someone better, Thomas." The way you rolled his full name over your tongue left a bitter feeling behind. It sounded so wrong to him.

"It's okay if you're going to leave me for a woman who is smarter. Prettier. I can't force you to stay. Even if I wanted to. You are free to go." The words caused a stinging pain to shoot through your heart, like you've been just pierced by a knife. Your whole body was shaking; trying somehow to compromise the heartbreak.

Unbeknownst to you, was Tom looking at you like he had just seen a ghost. He was literally speechless; couldn't believe what he had just heard. His heart ached and screamed; suffering with you. "Y/N... How... How can you say something like... like that?" He needed a moment to find his ability to speak again. Tom knew about your insecurities and fears and he had witnessed them playing with your mind more than once, but that... That was a whole other level. He had never seen you like that - and it shook him to the core.

"Why should I ever leave you? I-" You interrupted him. "Because you can't waste your time on me!" "Waste... Waste my time on you?" That was it. He needed to stop this. Shaking his head and reaching out his hands, he slowly lifted your chin with his fingers, before he cupped both your cheeks; gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "Y/N..." He spoke - again, in that deep, velvety voice, which lulled you easily to sleep at night; having such a calming effect on you. "Look at me, please." You did what he asked you to and looked up into his baby blues - which were clouded with tears.

"My sweet, beautiful girl... I'd never... NEVER waste my time on you. Neither would I ever leave you. I don't want somebody else. I don't need somebody else. All I ever wanted is you." Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously as you spoke up again. "But-" "No, my love..." Tom interrupted you this time, before you were able to say something bad about yourself again. "Please listen to what I have to say. Don't listen to the voices in your head. They are wrong. I am not out of your league. You are out of my league. When I walked through that studio door, down the hall for the very first time and saw you there, I couldn't believe my eyes. I had never seen such beauty before. You literally swept me off my feet - and definitely not just with your good looks. You are beautiful from the inside and the outside. I had a hard time playing it cool."

You were still gazing in his eyes, listening to his every word. "It pains me thoroughly to hear how ill you speak of yourself, because you are the prettiest, smartest, sexiest, sweetest, kindest, funniest- Do you want me to keep going?" For the first time since hours darted a small smile over your lips. You couldn't help it. Tom noticed, of course. "Ah! I saw that, my love! I saw that!" He exclaimed like a happy little boy, who had just walked into a candy store.

He smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss on your forehead. You felt the cool metal of his piercing on your skin. When he pulled back and gazed at you again, you saw that a tear was rolling down his cheek. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so much it hurts and I promise you, I'll never leave you. You are enough. You are more than I ever dreamed of." You nodded, trying desperately to believe him. "Are those voices quiet now?" "A-Almost..." He shook his head. "Now, now, we can't have that. I must eliminate them from your sweet, creative mind. I can't keep on letting them poison the woman I love and want to spend the rest of my life with."

Your heart literally skipped a beat at that sentence.

Tom leaned towards you again and kissed you repeatedly on the lips; whispering countless 'I love you's' in between - like a preacher a prayer in the church.

The voices in your head really disappeared and at some point, you broke out into giggles. "Tommy! I-" Kiss. "I need to-" Kiss. "Breathe!" Kiss. "I need to breathe!" Your boyfriend stopped then, chuckling softly and watching how you took a few deep breaths. "Was my mission successful?" You nodded; smiling up at him. "Voices gone?" "Voices gone." You shuffled; moved towards Tom and snuggled into his awaiting arms. "Thank you, Tommy... And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you and-" He interrupted you once more.

"Shush, baby. It's all good." He moved to sit on the floor beside you, then pulled you into his arms; making you sit onto his lap. Tom cuddled you close; not letting go. You accepted his touch and the comforting position; cuddled close and just enjoyed the moment.

"Did you feel that way because of the photoshoot?" Tom asked after a while. You nodded, "Uh.Huh. Seeing Ivy on those pics, having her hands all over you and giving you those 'Fuck me' eyes unleashed the insecurities in my brain." Your boyfriend nodded; interlacing your fingers with his. "I should've said no. I should've known..." You immediately shook your hand, "No, Tommy. You couldn't know. You did your job." and traced the tattoo on his arm with your free hand. "I just let Ivy get into my head..."

You felt how Tom's soft, warm lips pressed a sweet kiss against your temple. "Well, I won't let her do that again, baby."

#tom hiddleston au #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #model!Tom #tom hiddleston oneshot

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nebulous-library · 1 year

Text

Additional Demon Slayer Dick Headcanons

Because I’m a thirsty bitch who developed simptoms for additional kny lads

Part 1 here

Iguro Obanai —

listen I cannot stop thinking about my short king, I want to give him so many kisses and also ride the life out of him.

I think he’s packing again, some fairly average length and girth. I’d say about five and a half to six ish inches, but the man is snappy with his hips.

He likes when you get on top so he can hold you and bury his face into your chest while he plows you with reckless abandon.

Definitely knows where the clit is and exactly how you like being touched. A considerate lover with immaculate technique.

Self esteem issues big time, so he has a hard time looking you in the eye or letting you see how cute he is with his cheeks all flushed and the neediness in his eyes

Just let him drown in tiddy while you cum on his dick, it’s all he wants.

Tell him he’s a good boy for you, he’ll melt

Better yet, actually, let him have one of your tits in his mouth. He’s embarrassed at the way he mewls and moans for you, so anything to muffle that is perfect in his book

He’s soft at heart okay obanai deserves that sweet, sweet lovin’

Gyuutaro —

When I tell you this thirst came out of nowhere, you guys….

Okay first of all, we know this man is a good big brother. A very family-oriented demon who would absolutely make the shittiest parent. But does that stop him from having a breeding kink??? Absolutely not.

Packing at least a solid 7.5”-8” ish if you ask me

You know that stereotype about scrawny emo boys who have giant schlongs??? Yeah, uh, that’s Gyuutaro

He is not at all nice when doing the nasty

He will 1000% have a corruption kink. If he sees a sweet pretty little thing like you who thinks they can fix him??? He’s gonna fuck that goody-goody savior complex right out of you

He loves the idea of ruining you from the inside out

Will absolutely cum all over you. He’ll bounce back quick and go round after round until he’s covered your face and tits and stomach and ass and back. Everywhere is fair game

Will spit in your mouth

He’s nasty and I like him okay

Akaza—

We already know he likes fisting (I’m so sorry, I had to)

Okay no I'm gonna be serious about this, he 100% is the type who would rather finger blast the life out of you. Like??? That man is not at all focusing on his own pleasure

You will probably have to beg him to put his dick in you

I'm leaning toward saying he's got about 6"-7" going on, but girthy as hell

Like, it's gonna take at least working up to 3 fingers before you can actually take that bad boy

He will fuck you however you need it, though.

We know he's chugging his Respects Women juice

If you tell him you want him to be rough with you, he'll do it. It'll take a lot of "....are you sure" "i am" "okay but are you SURE you're sure" "oh my god, YES" kinda conversation going on

Really really he prefers going slow and deep. Def specializes in very passionate moonlit rendezvouses(?)

Okay that's all I got, see you when Swordsmith Village arc starts byyyyyeee

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #iguro obanai #gyuutarou #akaza #akaza x reader #gyuutaro x reader #iguro x reader

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incorrect-nevermore · 10 months

Text

Modern au Headcanons!!

• Ira is straight up, completely fine, even supportive of Lenore as Annabel’s partner.

Annabel and Lenore coming back from a trip or something: Father, I’m home-!

Ira, running past Annabel: Ah! Lenore my boy, welcome home!

Lenore: Hello sir- wait, I don’t live here?

Ira: Ah, you might as well at this point! Annabel hurry up and make it official by putting a ring on the lad will you??

Annabel: *stares in wtf you never welcomed ME home with that much excitement* FATHER PLEASE STOP TALKING.

• Ira who was a closeted but not really gay man in 80’s. Clocking Lenore’s butch ass in as homo faster then everyone else.

Annabel: Oh! father, it’s finally time you’ve met Lenore.

Lenore, still with long hair tied into a braid but in a suit: Pleasure to meet you sir-

Ira, after observing Lenore for about 1.2 seconds: Oh, you are gay-

Annabel: FATHER-

Lenore, smiling, very caught off guard cause. She thought she was doing a very good job of acting hetero: What-?!

Ira: Oh, my apologies. Hello, nice to meet you. You are gay.

Thaddeus: Oh, well. We have been thinking about setting up Lenore with a certain gentleman-

Ira, trying desperately not to burst out laughing: OH, h-have you?

• Lucille and Theo disapprove of Annabel’s britishness immensely.

Annabel: Here’s Lenore’s jumper, she left it at my-

Lucille and Theo: WRONG.

Annabel: :l

• Both the Vandernachts and Whitlocks are still big important business people here, but they aren’t exactly famous like people in the industry absolutely know who they are but they don’t have to like go incognito to get coffee at Starbucks or something.

•Every once in a while someone finds a picture of Lenore and @s The Vandernacht corporation account like “Man fuck the trains- I want the founder’s daughter to rail me instead.” And sometimes Theo sees it and goes “:l >:0” *blocked and reported* but takes a screenshot and sends it to Annabel to remind her his sister HAS OPTIONS SO WATCH YOUR SELF-

(One time the account in question may or may not have just been Annabel’s alt and she may or may not have made several thirst posts after getting a little too drunk after a shitty gala “Pet, stop laughing it isn’t funny-“)

• Berenice once made a “Your mom” joke while at Lenore’s house and Lucille fucking appeared out of thin air and scared the ever living hell out of her and Berenice has been too afraid to make another one since.

•Annabel used to be very good at hiding when she was drunk. But ever since dating Lenore she has found that it much harder to fake sobriety when all you wanna do is yell about your wife. She is a “LOOK AT MY WIFE!!” Drunk.

• Lucille has found all the misfits asleep in Lenore’s room multiple times and just… stopped questioning it after a certain point like “Go clean my daughter’s room but do it quietly try not to disturb the young cat like young man in there taking a nap Lord knows the kid needs it. I don’t think I’ve seen dark circles that bad since last i looked in the mirror.”

She would often find Berenice knocked out cold in Lenore’s bed, sometimes in Lenore’s clothes and one or thrice in there with Lenore herself- and was convinced that these two were dating. Berenice is just a cuddly bastard but it takes a while to convince Lucille.

• Lenore and Theo have matching tattoos Lenore shows her’s off with out much care but Theo hides his FOR DEAR LIFE- even tho like… Neither thad nor Lucillecan be bothered to care at this point-

+ Lucille was goth in her youth source: Trust me bro Lenore’s dark circles and natural air of sadness have got to be genetic or something

#nevermore webtoon #lenore nevermore #incorrect nevermore quotes #annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee x lenore #white raven #pluto nevermore #Annabel lee Whitlock #lenore vandernacht #Thaddeus Vandernacht #Lucille vandernacht #theo Vandernacht #headcanon #headcanons

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mlmxreader · 5 months

Text

Johnny's Mansion | Kenshi Takahashi x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Heya! Can I have prompt #15 for Kenshi Takahashi? - @brymalibu ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Kenshi get invited to Johnny Cage's birthday party, which is all fine and dandy, but the music choices are certainly... unique.

: ̗̀➛ swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Johnny Cage’s mansion, or as he called it, his “mojo dojo casa house”. You and Kenshi had been invited, as it was Johnny’s birthday and everybody simply had to be there, although neither of you were rather happy about it; usually, Tuesdays were often saved for your date night - you split it evenly between who chose to do what, and you were excited, as it should have been Kenshi’s turn.

But, neither of you wanted to let Johnny down; he was a good lad, really, even though he tried to hide it under his layers of ego and self-importance, and you both knew that he valued your friendships more than anything… except maybe the DVD collection of EastEnders from start to present that sat, always immaculately clean of dust, by his television.

Maybe he did love you both second best, after all… but he was still your friend, and neither you nor Kenshi wanted to let him down; he wanted you at his birthday party, just as he wanted Kung Lao and Raiden and Syzoth and Baraka. Just as he wanted Mileena, Sindel, Kitana, Sub-Zero, Scorpion.

The music coming from inside the home was so loud it made the ground shake as you and Kenshi entered it, holding onto each other’s hands tightly, not wanting to get separated or lost within the expansive rooms.

Why Johnny chose an open plan for his mansion, you would never know, and you didn’t really want to ask, either. Still, even when you went to grab drinks, Kenshi held onto your shoulder; without Sento, he couldn’t see a thing, and with the waves of partygoers, it was difficult for him to navigate the house the way he could when you visited Johnny on weekends.

‘1916’ by Sabaton played loudly on the speakers, and when you turned to pass Kenshi his drink, you gently tugged at the string of his hoodie to signal for him to bend down so he could hear you.

“It’s our song,” you told him.

He listened for a moment.

“I knew at the time that a year in the line was a long enough life for a soldier… we all volunteered and we wrote down our names and we added two years to our ages, eager for life and ahead of the game, ready for history’s pages, and we brawled and we fought and we whored til we stood ten thousand shoulder to shoulder, a thirst for the Hun, we were food for the gun, and that’s what you are when you’re soldiers…”

He smiled. “This is the one you played in the car when we first started dating.”

You grinned. “You remembered! Can we… can we dance?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“C’mon, take my hand and dance for once, have some fun,” you told him, taking your drink and his and setting them on the table. “Please? For me?”

Shaking his head, Kenshi buckled, and gave you his hand; he allowed you to lead the way, finding a clear spot near the speakers.

You took his hands in yours, one just next to your elbow, you dropped one of his hands and let him rest it on your shoulder while you grabbed his waist, gently moving him from side to side until he moved closer and rested his chin on your shoulder with a hum.

Listening closely to the lyrics.

“I heard my friend cry, and he sank to his knees, coughing blood as he screamed for his mother, and I fell by his side, and that’s how we died - clinging like kids to each other, and I lay in the mud and the guts and the blood, and I wept as his body grew colder, and I called for my mother and she never came, though it wasn’t my fault and I wasn’t to blame, and the day’s not half over and ten thousand slain, and now there’s nobody remembers our names and that’s how it is for a soldier.”

He smiled, thinking of when he took you to see that exact band as an anniversary present; you had been so happy, forcing him to stand in the front row. He had never heard you sing so loudly, and he couldn’t say he was shocked when your voice didn’t work the next day.

He could still remember how tender his arm was in the morning thanks to you getting over excited and hitting his arm within a second of every song; naming it and telling him exactly what it was about. He would have given anything to take you back there again, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

You had been so happy, and Kenshi had a sneaky feeling that the music was Johnny’s doing when ‘The Unkillable Soldier’ started to play, making you gasp as you gently shook him.

“This one’s about Adrian Carton De Wiart’s career during the first world war!” You yelped, excited and rushing through your words. “C’mon, you know this one!”

Kenshi laughed softly, of course he did. You played it often enough when you were tidying the house. “At the edge of madness, in a time of sadness, an immortal soldier finds his home! Proven under fire, over trench and wire, forged for the war he’s unbreakable!”

You laughed, and Kenshi could have died right then and there and been happy about it; his favourite sound in the fucking world.

“See?” You nearly stuttered, you were so happy. “You do know it!”

“I only know it because of you,” he pointed out with a grin. “I only know any of their songs because of you… but I think Johnny did this.”

“What?”

Kenshi pulled you close to his side, resting his head on your shoulder. “I think you’ll find Johnny’s playing all of your songs because he knows we’re here.”

“Is that a problem?” You asked, frowning.

He shook his head, letting out a soft hum. “No, it’s not… I get to see you happy, I’m happy.”

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gabigabigabby · 1 year

Text

jealous of joão's beauty

another lovely drabble of our golden boy j. félix! inspired by the photo on his stories 👀 i stg i died ⭐️ this is so short i'm so sry, but i hope u enjoy lads!

"JOÃO!" u scream, ur voice echoing through the entire house. u have never yelled his name in anger before, so this genuinely terrified joão when he heard it.

joão's head peeks through behind a wall, eyes wide open. "yeah baby?"

"come 'ere." u say. when joão didn't move, u widen ur eyes, pointing next to ur spot on the couch.

"beb, did i do somethin' wrong?" joão asks, cautious with his tone. "beb, u know u can tell me. i'll fix it rn."

"yeah j. u did something soooo wrong, it's almost unfixable." u tell him. joão's eyes shut as his hands run down his face and through his hair.

"tell me. pls." he almost begs.

u grab ur phone from the coffee table and unlock it. u go on instagram and search for joão's page. as u click on his instagram story, this photo comes up.

u flash the photo to him, ur face like ☹️. "babe are u serious?" he chuckles.

u furrow ur brows. "yes im serious!"

"babe ur mad about this? this photo i took ten minutes ago?"

"yes j!" joão starts laughing, rubbing his eyes. "babe u just posted a thirst trap! who are u trying to impress here?"

"u! ur the only person i want to impress!" he smiles, snatching ur phone from ur hands. "look! u liked it too. that's all i need."

"i was impressed. i just wasn't ready for all that body..." u mutter under ur breath.

joão inches closer to you before whispering in ur ear. "i knew u weren't."

"quit that," u smack his thigh. "i hate u."

"love u more." joão grins, getting up, about to head back outside. "oh btw, i can delete that if u want-"

"don't!" u raise ur voice. "keep it up..."

"who's the weirdo now?" joão giggles, heading back outside to finish his workout.

#joao felix fluff #joao felix #joão félix #joao felix x reader #joao felix drabble #joao felix x you

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