#and i hope you enjoy it ❤️

[kikker-oma]

Fanart based off of THIS AMAZING WHUMPTOBER FIC of @skyward-floored 's!! Please read it and it's sequel❤️

Warning: Blood, stabbing, character under control

[ravenxbones]

i have finally FINALLY finished my star trek tos crew lps customs! i will be posting close-ups individually but here’s a group shot of the bridge crew :]

+ the sickbay team:

+ a bonus lieutenant saavik!

[kitamars]

HAPPY (early) NEW YEAR (yuri)......thank you so much for all the support you've given me this year, I will keep making art that I hope you all enjoy, so have a good year ahead!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

textless ver under the cut:

[shorelinnes]

12 days of skzmas [12/12] ↳ 24 to 25

[sugoi-writes]

Nun! Alastor X Reader - Part 2 - The Confessional

HahahaHAH ITS HERE!

Warnings: serious filth and sacrilege, mentions of tentacles, some choking, fingering, oral (surprise for whose receiving~) and some really depraved confessions and convos. Cursing!!! Yay, sin! I hope you guys enjoy 💗 there will be a VERY important poll at the end, so be sure to give it a look 👀

Edit: I noticed a few mistakes on my 100th read-through, and made some changes. Apologies for that!

Never had you felt more nervous when stepping towards a chapel, hands wringing themselves soothingly. The sweat clung to your palms as you looked up towards the looming structure, head straining to take in the full magnitude of the building. The intricate stained-glass windows were illuminated under the moonlight, casting grand scenes across the earth at your feet.

In Hell, most sinners were more active at night. Depending on the Ring you would visit, you would likely run into 'unsavory' company. But thankfully, this humble part of the Pentagram was lulling with sleep, as if abiding by the arbitrary notion of a "Sabbath Day". How ironic.

You wet your lips, cursing yourself for not taking better care of yourself, before you quietly enter the building. Your eyes scanned the main hall, the room you had sat in not too long ago. Candles lit up the pulpit faithfully at the front of the chamber, while torches lined the perimeter. In this lighting, the room seemed so different, giving off the air of a deathly calm and peace; a juxtaposition to its normally bustling, jittery energy.

You almost called out into the dim room, but restrained yourself. You bowed your head, looking down cast before uttering a gentle apology for the intrusion. When you looked back up, you nodded, hyping yourself up before coming into the room further.

It is by this point that you hear something shuffling, your head snapping towards the sound. Your bravado was instantly dashed as you flew into a panic. Your eyes flash with fear, hands flying defensively upward... before you sigh with relief. You caught sight of a small, fuzzy mouse, scurrying away from you. False alarm, for now...

Your eyes scan your surroundings again, before you spy a short hallway. You step towards it, noticing that there appeared to be a private area. You squint in the dim light, spying a humble looking booth within the room.

Bingo. This must be where "confessions" occur.

You start to make your way down the hall, eager to meet with the Priest about redemption. Your head was high; you had genuine, innocent hope that this wouldn't be some money laundering, bait-and-switch scheme. And if it was... well, you just might punch a priest.

Your eyes observe paintings on the wall; you were surrounded by familiar depictions. The birth of Jesus, the Crucifixtion of Christ... the First Fallen Angel, Lucifer's decent. The rise of both Lilith and Lucifer in Hell... all of the depictions reminded you just how dire your predicament was, and how much you desperately wanted to leave hell.

In the last frame in the hallway, you spy a photograph, pausing to get a closer look. In the center, arms folded pridefully, there stood the Priest, St. Vox... among him, to both sides, stood honest though demonic looking nuns. You squint at the form to his right, unable to make out the face of the tall, slender Nun. All you could make out was a set of yellowed, razor sharp teeth smiling back at you. You shuddered, unable to shake the feeling you were being watched, before you entered the private room.

Without hesitation, you entered the booth, having a seat in the left side. You were not comforted by a cushion or pillow, the seat creaking under you. You flinched, the noise almost deafening in the resounding silence. And then, you waited, waiting for a sign of the Priest you sought to speak to.

You were welcomed in perfect silence, your eyes trained on the confessional booth before you. A simple construction, for sure, but the carvings and finishes made the booth seem... expensive. You walked up to it, hand tracing intricate carvings of religious iconography. Snakes, the Forbidden Fruit, Angelic wings... a myriad of designs and carvings litered the enter frame. Had you had better lighting, you would take the time to appreciate it more... but you were here on strick business.

When the bench in the booth to your left suddenly creaked, you nearly banged your head on ceiling. Your heart was in your throat, frightened; did the door even open??? How did someone get in there so quickly???

A throat was cleared, the sound of static crackle replaced with a low hum, before a familiar voice cut through.

"Child, I apologize for keeping you waiting. Sadly, there's no rest for the wicked, nor those who seek to help them." You sigh in relief as Vox speaks to you, shoulders instantly relaxing. You fold your hands neatly in your lap, looking towards the booth's door as you spoke.

"No worries! It uhh-- it wasn't for long, if that's what you're worried about. I... well, your Nun informed me that you had a chance to hear me out? I hope that I came at the correct time..."

Midnight, on the nose. Though some cultures differed, you were sure you were correct on this notion...

"My Child, you came at the perfect time. But, I must fulfill my duty to you; to listen first. What have you come to speak about?"

You leaned back as your thumbs twiddle, suddenly sheepish," Well... I know your methods of redemption usually come through... err, "offerings". Monetary ones, at that. I was wondering if you had ever seen anyone be saved? Redeemed and brought to Heaven on just... good will and sinless lifestyle alone?"

A dark chortle... then, an uproarious laughter fills the booth as you look in shock.

"Oh, dear Child, you are mistaken! A sinner is not capable of change! Nor is a sinner able to even fathom walking to the Heavenly Gates. No... the actions taken can never be washed clean... at least, not in Hell. What's done is done. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. But..."

You feel your skin crawl as you feel the Priest facing you, still unable to see him in the darkness of the booth, just behind a lattice-patterned divider.

"You mention humble offerings... now those have proven to make life in hell more... comfortable. Much more so than that of anyone. Offerings have the ability to keep you safe; make you privy to things that others are not." You shrink back from the voice as it draws closer, a characteristic glitch setting in the tone.

Your face instantly morphed from bafflement to rage, anger brewing in your core," What-- what are you saying?!?"

"I-- your money can make you safe. It can welcome you to my fold, dear... Or... if money isn't on the table... there are... other ways to earn favor in this sacred place."

The voice past the partition seems to smile a wider," Dear, I believe you know that your soul could be traded... for freedom. For pleasures. Who best to give it to than a Priest who can promise you untold riches? No salvation, but, comforts in this life time? I can give you that-- and SO much more!!!"

"Forget it!!!" You shrieked, standing firmly on your feet and slamming your fist into the wall," I do have a confession to make, after all!"

You feel your eyes welling with hot, angry tears as your words spew out, unabashed," I LOATHE your methods! I think that taking people's money for their loyalty is-- it's sick! Almost as sickening as buying their love with promises of salvation! You're just-- just some pompous, religious twat!"

You slam your fist into the partition again, feeling your anger bleeding into your physical form," I'll tell you-- I'll tell you that I think you're a fucking sham.. this whole Chapel is! The only GOOD thing you have in this building is your fucking Nun, Alastor!"

The voice from the other end does nothing to interrupt you, seemingly silenced by your fury.

The door to your booth is slammed open by your hand, as you trudge towards the door.

"In fact-- I think I will go seek her-- him??? THEM out!!!"

"I've had it with this discussion. You aren't here to help me. You're here to coerce me. And I'm not gonna listen to another word of your warped gospel, you cheap, conniving, greedy fUCKER--!"

A sickening, twisted laughed bellowed in the chamber, the tone of voice morphed and unable.

You gasped when you were suddenly slammed into the wall, body pressed flush to it as someone pinned you from behind. You struggled, choking as the air was unintentionally pushed out of your lungs. You became frantic as the hot breath of the demon behind you fanned across your ear. Shit-- shit!!! You fucked up!

"At last, Sweet Lamb... you've begun to see the light!"

You freeze, eyes straining to look behind you. The voice of the Priest was no more, replaced with the familiar, velveteen tone of the Nun. You opened your mouth, struggling to speak with no support," Y-You! This is-- please explain!" was all you could squeak out, before a neutral hum sounds behind you. You shuddered as it reverberated through you, no time to think as you were spun around.

Again, the Nun's body pinned your own, craning downward to look at your frightened face," Sadly, the Priest could not make it to Confessional tonight... But, I was more than happy to step in, in his absence." You trembled as his arms left deep rivets in the wall beside you, swallowing hard," And, to be frank, the help he would have offered you would have been the same; inadequate, even."

You stopped struggling as you locked eyes with the demon above you, swallowing shallowly as he spoke again.

"Now, as for helping you: I'm afraid the only entity who can divinely interfere with your predicament is the Lord and his Seraphims. Not even the Ruler of the Hells could hope to overwrite God's Will." You eyes turn downcast, face heating at the words. Of course... that would make sense. Only God and the angels can open the gates, right? How foolish an idea you had...

"There are things that a Saint, such as myself, can still offer to you..." Your eyes widen in recognition: Aha! So he WAS a man, afterall. You blink, shaking your head quizzically.

"However..." You felt a clawed finger beneath your jaw, beckoning you to look up. You were faced with the same, wide smile, eyes narrow slits filled with delight.

"I have SO many questions-- for one, why would you be parading as a Nun, if you're a Saint?" Alastor's grin grows a touch mischievous, before a weighed sigh leaves him," Alas, the Priest here struggles with... containing himself. He has a history of giving in to Earthly desires, time and time again. I can bring him much discomfort with just my voice, let alone my body... I am merely a vessel for the Lord, and yet he wishes to, well, lay his claim. And so, the habit conceals everything he can't keep his eyes off of; everything he is not permitted to touch by the Lord."

His neck tilts, cracking with the harsh angle as he looks to you," I think it's quite the sound idea, don't you think?"

Alastor leans back, his hips still pinning you to the wall. Your face heats hastily with embarrassment. He seemed to be gauging your every move, calculating what you may try while under his trap.

"Sure, right-- Okay... perverted Priest. Wouldnt be the first time I've heard of that..." You looked up shakily to the nun... saint...? You aren't sure what to call him anymore. Alastor quirks a brow up at you, egging you to speak.

"Okay, okay, second question: what are you implying that you can help me with?" You yelp as a knee comes between your legs, caging you again. Alastor bends down at the waist to match your height, his face growing closer to yours. With hands at either side of your head... you were still so close... and so, so trapped.

"I think we both know that you have something else to get off your chest... Thoughts that you've been plagued with, My Lamb." A slender, warm finger runs down your cheek, knuckle first, ending the trail just below your jaw. You gasp as Alastor comes impossibly closer, his fringe nearly brushing your forehead.

"Wh...what do you mean...?"

The Saint chuckles darkly, shaking his head," Oh, wayward one... your eyes betray you. They betrayed you the moment you looked into mine." You nearly squeaked as his other hand brushed through your hair, ensuring he could see your entire face.

"I saw you, even from across the room... Eyes wide in awe, wonder... You were completely spellbound by a riveting performance. You tried to look away, you shifted in your seat to silence your nerves... And yet: your eyes never strayed far from this Servant of the Lord."

A choppy gasp as the hand in your hair ran down to your neck, lightly caressing and pressing to your pulse.

You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, subconsciously parting them as he continued to speak," Your body kept betraying your internal struggle, Little Lamb."

"I could sense your heartbeat, quivering and loud, with each movement I made, each inhale I had to take to sing. Each time I smiled just a touch more... I could almost taste the sweat that ran down your brow, your eyelids fluttering during the final chorus. Your thighs could only do so much to relieve the pressure that built up in you. You were enthralled... but not by the Lord's gospel: but by me."

His hand drifted down to your chest, settling over the very spot your heart should be. Your breathing quickened, your eyes never leaving his. You cursed yourself, biting your lip to stifle any shameful noise you might create.

St. Alastor's smile never wavered as he leaned over you, that familiar heat ghosting over your neck.

"I didn't miss the way that your pulse quickened when I walked closer... you hadn't even been a part of my original section, you know. But Sister Eunice was more than willing to switch. Your palms became clammy, eyes glassy as you tried desperately to plan your escape... And the moment my arms caught you, I knew for sure: you also struggle with impurities of the flesh. Specifically..."

You watched with baited breath as his hand drifted lower, until they landed on the hem of your bottoms, ghosting just above your core,"... you struggle to keep your thoughts, your body's reactions, at bay around me."

You gasp as you are groped by the large hand of the Saint, breath already ragged from his words," But... to know for sure, I need to hear these impurities come from your lips. The first step to forgiveness is confession; honesty. You must repent for your actions, in order to properly atone. So... is there anything you need to confess to, Bashful One?"

Your eyes glazed over, a familiar heat brewing downstairs as you felt his palm grind against your clothed sex. Your head rolled back, lip quivering as the Saint waited patiently. Your mouth fell open, a quiet sigh escaping you.

"Yes, there it is... let it out, Lamb. Don't hide in shame from the Lord. Embrace it-- embrace this--" You whined as your arms grabbed at his habit, his hands shifting and rubbing you through your clothing torturously. You try to stifle another moan, eyelids fluttering," Th-This is-- haaah!" You let your eyes fall closed, brows furrowing," Y-You have the wrong idea, I didn't come here to f-fuCK--"

You could barely contain yourself as you felt the hands of the Saint slip into your bottoms, fingers tracing a sensual line from the bottom of you slit, up to the pearl that sat atop it. You whined as Alastor pressed against it, unable to think clearly as he began to swirl two digits around your clit. His movements are slow, not to overwhelm you, eyes taking in your expressions to monitor your progression.

"St. Alastor! I--" you caved to the feeling, grinding into the saint's hand," I-I didn't come for this, but... I-I did think immoral things about you." Good choice, Alastor thought.

You bit your lip as you were rewarded a pinch to your bud, back arching off of the wall as you wailed," I-I-- fuck-- y-your voice was really-- mmph!" You grabbed onto the demon's shoulders above you, rooting yourself in place as you felt Alastor's pace increase.

"Hah... y-your hands looked-- feel-- so warm! Uhhn! Y-your eyes were--" Alastor pinches again, correcting you," A-Are--! Your eyes are s-so deep-- it feels like you were-- i-it felt like you were undressing me with them!"

"W-When you caught me, for a moment I felt- hah-- saAAaafee~" You mewl as Alastor's fingers move lower, teasing your entrance, where you desired his fingers the most. Your face was tilted further to the side, before you felt a wet, hot mouth suckling at the junction of your neck. You shuddered, fighting the mewl he tore from you so easily. Unsatisfied, you felt sharp teeth biting down, making you shriek with surprise. Pain was quickly replaced with a soothing pleasure, Alastor kissing and licking at the wound apologetically. You sighed, working up the mental capacity to speak again.

A sly smile graces his face, leaning in to place chaste, innocent kisses to your neck," ...and perhaps they were, clever Lamb... Perhaps they were~" You whined at the notion, mouth hanging open as you continued your confession. You could hardly think straight as you felt his fingers quicken, your eyes beginning to lose focus. You trembled, knowing that this confession had been doing lewd thing to your mind and body.

"I-I felt, no-- I needed those arms around me again. I wanted..." Boldly, you moved your arms from his shoulders, pulling lightly at Alastor's veil," I really wanted to see what was underneath all of this, too... call it a sin, but... I... I have nothing to hide anymore; not from you or the Lord."

You watch as Alastor's head doubles over, a shaky groan escaping him. When he looked back up at you, his eyes blended in with the rest of the room: they became pitch black.

"What an obedient, honest fucking pet you are, Little Lamb~"

Without warning, two fingers made their intrusion, but your silken heat was relaxed enough to take him. You cried out in bliss from the reward, tugging at the head dress again. Alastor simply kept going, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he thrust his digits up into your welcoming, quivering heat.

"Ahh, ahh~ I've taken an oath, little one. No one is permitted to see such secrets~"

You whine as you clamp down on his wet fingers, brows furrowing. You needed more; you demanded to see more. You didn't miss the way that Alastor hissed, brows furrowing at how tight you were. It seemed that he enjoyed the display far more than he let on...

Attempting to ground himself, his hand landed on your neck, holding you in place. The effect seemed to make you wetter, eyebrows raising with realization as your moans deepened. What an interesting revelation~ The Lord most certainly worked in mysterious ways!

He leans down to your ear, voice low and dripping with a sacrilegious heat," ...Tap once if you would like me to tighten my grip. Tap twice to stop it immediately." Your eyes, wide with desire, fluttered and rolled towards the ceiling, but you nodded nonetheless. If this was how all of your confessions would go... then you would become a zealot of the Lord and the Saint before sunrise.

You gave his shoulder a tap, hand landing there as you let his fingers explore and scissor the walls of your pussy. Alastor was happy to oblige, his hand squeezing your neck gently.

The action made your mouth run dry, your eyes glazing with desperate, passionate tears as his fingers thrust deliberately in your core.

Another tap to his shoulder, your eyes gazing into the flickering radio dials that had become Alastor's pupils. Again, Alastor was happy to amuse you.

You couldn't contort or stifle the noises you made, grunts and mewls the only music to leave your delicate throat. St. Alastor's hand squeezed as promised, making you flutter pathetically around him. You whined as you took in the nun turned god, your tongue hanging precariously out of your mouth. He smirked, a dangerous chortle bouncing off the chamber walls.

"Already at a loss for words, Lamb?" Alastor's fingers inside of you flex inward, pressing against a spot that made you see the pearly gates.

"My, my, your confessions will fall unto deaf ears at this rate~ Speak up, won't you? The Lord and I are granting you an audience~" He knew you couldn't speak; he knew and he didn't care. He just wanted to see you keen and struggle against him, unable to do anything but beg for more or stop this all together.

You couldn't even think of a sentence, let alone speak it into existence. Your lips flapped desperately, hands snaking up to grip at the wrist and hand on your throat. Your legs quaked, your eyes threatening to roll back as you gave a singular tap. Just one.

Alastor's eyes gleam with insidious joy as his smile expands.

Even tighter.

You felt your hips guiding themselves along Alastor's devout fingers, chasing a feeling that was hastily approaching. Alastor did little to stop you, intrigued by the display. At the intrusion of a third finger, a wanton dribble of saliva cascaded down your chin. A strangled groan: you certainly didnt mind the delicious stretch that your entrance underwent.

St. Alastor returned his attention to your face, licking a heated stripe across your parted, swollen lips. You sputtered with ecstacy, the feeling further spurring you on. You felt your coil tighten, your throat burning as you panted with reckless abandon.

"Come unto me, Little Lamb."

You needed little motivation, a silent scream gracing your face as you completely shut down. Your legs spasmed and stilled, heart racing as Alastor finally let go of your neck. Your voice was hoarse for a beat or two, hands instinctively going up to your neck. You felt a small, dried blood trail from the bite on your neck, trembling with the notion that he visibly marked you. If he didnt intend to own you, then he made a grave mistake.

You only whine as the feeling of his warm fingers left your core; this only managed to light a fire in you. You look back towards the Saint as your eyes lidded, a heavy sigh his only warning as you pushed him off of you. Alastor, surprised, caught himself with a pitch black tentacle that manifested behind him. You start to unbutton your bottoms, pushing them off of your hips before kicking them to the side. You start trudging towards the Saint with a renewed heat in your eyes. Alastor's grin nearly split his face in half as he watched you, completely overtaken by your desire to commit more sins.

Alastor tilts his head, taking deliberate paces away from you and towards the confessional booth. He had a grand idea!

"It seems that you are still plagued with impure thoughts. Tell me, Dear Lamb..." Alastor practically chuckles as he takes you by the wrist, tugging you off your feet and into the booth. You land harshly on his lap, the both of you groaning as you grind down on his firm, tall erection.

His tone was dangerous, a myriad of tenacles materializing around your limbs," What other impurities trouble you, my Lamb?" You grow impatient, boldly reaching for his lap before your hand is held aloft. Cursed tentacle!!!

"P-Please, Sister-- Saint Alastor," Your tone comes our more like a plea than a demand, as your other arm is held over your head. Your legs are spread apart, your bare cunt dribbling your essence; it drips down your glistening thighs in a tantalizing way.

"I have had thoughts of you f-fucking me... a-and I don't know how to b-b-- AHH!!" Your hips buck at an unfamiliar feeling, one of Alastor's tendrils caressing and teasing your entrance," I-I don't how to-- How to banish the thought... I-I may need higher intervention. I-I need your blessing, St. Alastor."

A prideful, malicious smile replaces the amusement on his face, long, slithering tongue dragging across his lips," Well, that is certainly a hefty demand! You poor, sinful wretch!"

You cry out in pleasure as the tentacle spears you, exploring parts much deeper than his fingers could reach. You felt your arousal slicken the foreign body, making the intrusion easier. A wanton moan sounds in the air everytime the tentacle thrusts into you.

Alastor stands on his feet, flicking a wrist as the tentacle's speed picks up. You were completely helpless to his whims, your eyes threatening to roll back as you are overcome by the tentacles' hold and movements. The Saint looked all too pleased as you heard the rustling of fabric. You tried to look down, but a tentacle covers your leering eyes, making you wail in frustration. Alastor tuts like a disappointed teacher, shaking his head.

"And here I was, about to reward you for your blatant, unabashed honesty... Should I stop? Should I call the Priest to finish the job? Or should I leave you here, tied up and aching for relief... Just to let any-old-sinner find you in such a state?"

You freeze, biting your lip as the tentacle slows to a painfully slow slog. You whine again, thrashing your head in protest," N-No, no, no...! Ughhnn, no please! Don't stop! I-I still want your blessing, Alastor! Pl-Please!"

A wicked laugh sounds in front of you as a hand snakes up your top, finding and fondling your right nipple. You jolt at the sensation, the feeling multiplied due to the lack of sight. You weren't expecting the tentacle inside of you to stir to life at the same time, now with a renewed, brutal pace. You were practically screaming at the onslaught, bouncing from every thrust you were gifted.

"Ohh, I knew you would succumb to God's Will, my dear... You see, we all fall helpless, begging at God's feet."

You feel yourself being dragged down until your knees hit the floor , your hands still held high above your head. You weren't expecting warm, firm flesh to land on your face, gently slapping at your parted lips. You could only speculate what it was, your thighs unable to clamp together.

"I must warn you, receiving my blessing can be quite taxing... do you still wish to accept it, Lamb?"

Your tongue comes out from your lips, swiping along Alastor's cock. You feel his hips stutter as you lick all that you could reach, your head already lightheaded from your desire to please him. You swirl your tongue around the head, the tip of your tongue teasing the slit in your movements. You heard a warning growl, a hand fisting your hair and holding you in place.

Still unable to see, you look up towards the noise, mouth wide open," G-Grace me with your blessing, Oh Shepard..." You could feel Alastor's breath hitching, trying to restrain himself.

"Guide this Lamb to the light of the Lord. Please.."

You were given no time to prepare as Alastor thrust into your mouth, his animalistic grunt your only solice. You were shell-shocked as he and the tentacle worked in tandem to break you. You swiveled your hips and met the thrusts from below, arching your back as your head was used as a personal cock sleeve. Though you wished to see Alastor's own lips, bruised and panting, his hair clinging to his forehead as he thrust into you... the feeling would have to surfice. And though you wanted to run your hands along his abdomen, raking your nails across his pistoning hips... you couldn't deny that the feel of the whole ordeal verged on the precipice of Nirvana.

You groans and mewls made his cock twitch and leak more precum, making your mouth even more slick for his movements. He couldn't deny how good this felt; he, himself, would have a lot to answer for later, in the privacy of the basement. He moaned as he thought of his future atonement, limbs spread and head to the floor to form the cross before a statue of Jesus. His fingers would be clawing into the floor as he recited his virtues and prayers, pleading forgiveness for a sin he felt no guilt for.

His mind clouded with visions of you, trying to seduce and distract him. Your hands would trace along his body and caressing his traitorous, sensitive tail. This information, for now, was still unknown to you...

He practically shouted from the pleasure your mouth offered him, one hand holding your face still while the other braced himself against the confession booth door and splinted the wood.

He was already approaching his climax, and by the looks of it, you were nearing your second. His smile strained as his hips lost their rhythm, opting to seek the feeling and not the motion.

"Fuck-- fuck, Lamb... oh, my sweet Lamb!!!"

You whined around Alastor's cock, your hands struggling against their restraints as you cunt throbbed with the desire to cum.

"You are so-- fuck, so fucking warm!" You felt your orgasm bubbling in your core, your tongue doing its best to carress and snake around his cock, welcoming his release with open mind and body.

"An obedient Lamb... worthy of my blessing!! Arggh-- b-blessings upon you, Lamb!! Take it! Take every last drop-- Hah--"

You gagged as Alastor bottomed out in your mouth, unable to pull away as his 'blessing' painted you white as snow. You shrieked around his cock as a new tentacle traced fast circles around your clit, forcing your release to hit you by surprise. You screamed into the climax, feeling a warm gush between you legs as you finally came undone.

Alastor pulled out of your mouth, his tentacles still touching and pulling you through your release. Your eyes are uncovered as Alastor kneels before you, kissing you hard and passionately. Your hands were soon freed, and so you tore off the damned veil. You began tangling your hands into the Saint's red and black locks, your euphoria starting to die down.

Once you felt like you were back in the right state of mind, you parted from Alastor's lips, a pleasant smile on your face. You looked down to your lap, embarrassed at the unmistakable puddle you left behind from your passions. Alastor looked too, eyes flicking back to yours as his grin softened.

"Worry not. I will handle this, Lamb. No one will know of this night. And your confessions will be safe with me."

"...REALLY now..."

The both of your freeze, looking to one another as a familiar voice sounds behind you.

"Y'know, confessions: they're supposed to be in a private, sacred place... and from your actions, this place has been sullied and desecrated."

The door to the booth flies open, Alastor and you both jumping from the sudden BANG. Your eyes widen in horror at the Demon who stood in the doorway.

"What do you both have to say for yourselves?"

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

My Muse

Cardinal Copia x Artist!Reader

CW: SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The Cardinal catches his favorite Sister of Sin making some spicy art on her iPad, and smut ensues.

A request written for the lovely @mustluvecho 🌹 you are the best and deserve all the love in the world from our precious Cardinal, especially for the beautiful art you make of him!

Btw this is based on a real piece of art Echo made. I'll leave it up to her if she'd like to share 😉

Word Count: 2k

"...do you know what I mean, Sorella?"

Your beloved Cardinal continues to scribble away at something on his desk, absentmindedly rambling to you about his week, when he notices you haven't responded to him in several minutes. "Sorella?" He perks up, gazing across the room to find his favorite Sister of Sin perched on his bed, lost in her own little world as she whittles away at something on her iPad.

Silence falls over the room, except for the sound of your Apple Pencil quietly tapping the glass screen. Copia decides it's time to quit working for now anyway; it is the weekend after all, time to partake in the sin of sloth.

Letting out a sigh, the Cardinal stands, sauntering over to get a peek at your art. What he sees makes him flush a deep shade of red, coughing wildly to disguise his shock as if he were choking on something.

"Cardi, are you okay??!" you ask, concerned at his sudden outburst.

"Sì, Sorella! I am- I am fine!!" he says practically running to the kitchenette, "I was just going to make some tea, would you like some?!"

Surely your face showed your confusion, but you don't question it further, simply replying with your favorite tea flavor.

After a while, he re-enters the room, tray in hand with a pot of water and teacups.

"You're dressed nice," you remark at his button up shirt and slacks. It's not the full Cardinal get up, but you know that's pretty much what he wears underneath the cassock.

"Ah, yes. I had a meeting with Papa Terzo this morning," he responds, pouring water into the porcelain cups and plopping teabags in.

"Terzo? He got up early on Saturday for a meeting? Must've been important." You glance up at Copia momentarily in disbelief before returning to your drawing.

"I said I 𝘩𝘢𝘥 a meeting; I didn't say it happened," he deadpans, before you chuckle at the realization of what he meant. "I'm sure he had some Ghoul or fine Sorella occupying his short attention span." He rolls his eyes, drizzling a little honey into his teacup.

"Or both," you quip.

"Dirty girl," he mumbles under his breath, trying to hide the smirk on his lips. "May I sit?"

"You may, but it's pajamas only in this bed," you smirk back up at him.

"Oh, so you get to make the rules about what happens in my bed?" You love seeing him banter like this; he isn't always so confident around others, and it had taken a while for you to get him out of his shell.

"Well... I seem to recall you whispering in my ear about how I was your queen a few nights ago. Typically the queen makes the rules," you shrug.

He scrunches his nose at you playfully before going to change as you had requested. In the meantime you take a sip of your own tea, appreciating the way Copia always makes it just the way you like.

Returning in nothing but a pair of maroon sweatpants that leave little to the imagination, he asks, "Is this to your liking, amore mio?"

You look up from your artwork, admiring your muse standing at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips and expectant eyebrows raised. Smiling shyly, you still find yourself easily flustered by your lover, even after all this time. Gazing over his bare chest, dusted with brunette hair and marked with the sign of the Olde One, and then on up to his handsome visage with his well-groomed mustache and full sideburns, you nod your approval.

"Now, may I sit?" he repeats his earlier question.

You nod again, glancing back down at your tablet, but when you feel his hands on your shoulders, urging you to lean forward, you giggle, "What are you doing?!"

"Sorella," he grunts as he throws a leg behind you, flopping down on the mattress, "I am 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 to offer you a more comfortable seating arrangement as well!"

His dramatic tone sets you off laughing, while he settles in comfortably behind you. Your Cardinal knows humor is one of the many ways to your heart, and, oh, how he desires to be someone that you care for. Finally, with his legs on either side of yours and his back against the headboard, he pulls your hips so you're placed squarely in front of him then tugs on your shoulders so you're lying back against his chest.

You stop and look up at him, trying to hide your chuckles.

"Well, we are comfortable now, sì? Go on, continue sketching," he dismisses you with a smirk, as if he hadn't just caused a scene trying to get in bed.

"Okayyy," you concede, still grinning as you return your iPad to your lap.

Now, the sketch you are working on is quite... steamy, to put it lightly. Your Cardinal had caught a glance at it earlier, but now he's settled in, your heat pressing against him as you work diligently.

From what he can tell from the lines on the digital page, it seems two lovers are deep in the throes of passion trying what he would describe as a rather... experimental position. Depicting a man laid back with his partner atop him, facing away and legs spread wide, the picture has heat rushing various places in Copia's body. First and foremost, the flush in his cheeks tells him he is feeling embarrassed or even guilty, like a young boy seeing a Playboy for the first time. But the stirring between his legs has him wanting to see more.

Carefully he peaks over your shoulder, watching the naughty display come to life before him. "S-so... Is, um, is that... you?" he asks softly, admiring the curves of the hips and breasts of the woman on screen.

You chuckle at the way his shy personality resurfaced, "Yes, see?" You pinch to zoom out, revealing your own likeness next to his, clearly blissed out.

"Is-is-is-is that 𝘮𝘦??" he stutters, shocked.

Turning to look over your shoulder at his bewildered expression, you pull him in for a sweet kiss, fingertips tickling at his jawline. "Of course it is, il mio Cardinale... I haven't been with anyone else since you."

Blushing at your admission, he tells you, "S-sì, I haven't either, amore." Just as you're about to turn your attention back to your art, he blurts out, "But... but we haven't done that before."

"Hmm?" you ask coyly.

"That--uhh--𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵!" He points at the lovers intertwined. "The position... We haven't done that position before."

"Well, that's what art is for," you smile at him, "to explore the feelings we've had in the past, or maybe want to experience in the future..."

As you go back to your work, your lover finds his hands gripping your hips roughly as his head is reeling, the blood traveling south not helping his case. "Well... Wouldn't you like to," he grunts into the back of your neck, mustache tickling at the skin there, "work from a real life reference?" The buck of his hips into your backside accentuates his point.

You press the end of your stylus to your lips, trying to hide your excitement.

"I mean, we are already right here... We are practically in position as it is, cara mia," his suave manner sneaks forward again. With that, his hand sneaks down your front urging your legs aside.

"Copiaaa," you sigh as his fingers softly trace over your core through your silky pajama bottoms. Relaxing into his ministrations, your head rolls back, landing on his shoulder. His other hand snakes around your waist, holding you steady as he massages your breasts. Alternating rolling your nipples between his fingers, he knows he'll make you putty in his hands in no time at all.

"Sì, bella mia, what is it you want?" his voice hums low in your ear.

"You, Cardinal, I want you... I want 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴," you hold up your iPad to make your point before tossing it aside.

Without another word, he catches your lips against his in a heated kiss, mustache prickling at your upper lip as his tongue practically pries its way into your mouth. As if he's in some kind of rush, Copia's hands grip the waistband of your shorts, pulling them and your underwear down in one swift motion. Miraculously, you manage to not break the kiss while kicking them off, and your Cardinal's hand returns right back to where it had been, earning a muffled groan from you as he teases your folds with his deft digits.

Unfortunately, it never lasts long enough as he's onto the next task of getting you propped up on your feet, knees bent as you hover over his lap as he squirms his way out of his own clothing.

"What's the rush?" you chuckle at your lover.

He pauses briefly, like a kid caught with his hand on the cookie jar, "Have you seen that drawing, Sorella?? I am in need of that immediately," he says with urgency, "You know very well how I am when I want something."

Another laugh leaves you, but it's cut short by Copia suddenly pulling you down on his aching cock. Gasping loudly at the stretch, your eyes go wide at first before fluttering closed at the sensation of his warmth pressed tightly against your fluttering walls.

He only offers you a brief moment to adjust before nudging your ass, urging you to move.

Rocking your hips lightly at first, you chide him, "Demanding, huh?" You smirk to yourself as you start to bounce up and down on his length, grateful for his strong hands helping you stay stable above him.

"S-so good, bella mia," he groans, "the angle is... delightful..."

You can hear just how affected he is. "Sounds like the party might be over before it even begins," you joke, laced with concern.

He glances up at you with a fire in his eyes before gripping the underside of your thigh firmly, taking control of your pace. "Just because the ride is short, Sorella, does not mean it won't be the time of your life," he grunts between thrusts.

The hand under your thigh causes you to lean just a bit to one side, making it easier to turn and look into his eyes as he impales your body on his girth. His other hand takes grip on your ribs, fingertips brushing at your breast, helping to push your weight up and drop you back down again. Wordless, you snake your fingers into his hair, jaw hung open in pure bliss as he slams that sweet spot within you over and over and over.

"Touch yourself," he commands, "touch yourself for me, amore."

You comply, hand slipping from his locks to tease the area where your bodies are conjoined, eyes squeezed shut as you hurdle towards the heights of your pleasure. The thing that sends you over the edge is his hot mouth dragging against your nipple, sucking it harshly.

"Cardi-" you choke out the nickname as your body shudders, clamping down on him as your legs tremble in his hands. "Cum- cum with me, Cardi!!!"

"I am, Sorella, I'm cumming," he nearly whines as you're filled with his warmth, mustering all his strength to not go limp right then and there as his cock swells inside you. Riding you through the waves of your shared orgasm, Copia then slips out of you before flopping you next to him against the pillows before slouching down himself, dragging in deep breaths.

Recovering a bit quicker than him, you curl up by his side with a giggle, "Are you okay, my Cardinal? I didn't break you, did I?"

Languidly, his gaze turns to you, still looking a little mind blown, "Well... My dick may well never be the same after that, but I think I'll be alright." He throws an arm over your waist, as you squeal at his crass remark. "Seriously, amore, you must keep making your art. I've never seen anything quite so... inspiring." He gives you a wink before pulling the sheets over your entangled forms.

[whentommymetalfie]

refuge

.....

A scene from chapter eight in Bird Song. Where a worried Alfie attempts to take care of an injured and frightened Tommy (which as always involves putting him on the sofa and dressing him in Alfie's clothes)

[keithsandwich]

Hey, lovelies!!

So, it's my birthday this month and to celebrate with y'all, I'm taking requests for this kiss drawing prompts ❤️You guys are so nice to me I wanted to give something back.

Fandoms: IkePri, IkeVamp, IkeRev and IkeSen.

OC x Character (I may reach you for references), MC x Character, Character x Character. You have to choose the prompt and the pairing.

Two requests per person max.

❌No incest or underage.

I only do traditional art and nothing fancy. You can check my fanart masterlist for reference.

I'll probably take a while, but I intend to have everything posted until the end of the month.

I'll take requests until April 10th.

Love you guys!!!

[cametotheshowinsd]

Midnights tracklist (Halloween version) [pt.1|pt.2]

[draconicdeityarts]

Look at my Husk redesign boy

[sunkissedlouis]

he’s the sweetest 🥺🩵

[lovelyheartclover]

GLOBAL STRIKE: DAY 6

CEASEFIRE NOW 🍉🍉🍉

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A post shared by Bisan’8 - حكواتية (@wizard_bisan1)

[lu-sn]

Gremlin Macau for the prompt ? Or ramble on about Macau? 😬

huh. how the heck did you know i think about macau 24/7 😂

here's a post-canon headcanon for you:

neither vegas nor pete are any good at taking photos. vegas will obediently point a camera in macau's direction whenever macau asks ("uh, yeah, hia, i can and will shove all fifteen of these marshmallows in my mouth, are you doubting me") — but vegas doesn't have the instinct to take photos on his own, and the only selfies he's ever taken are thirst traps and dick pics as part of his ill-advised seduction attempts (not that macau knows this, bless his soul). pete, on the other hand, wasn't allowed a cellphone as a bodyguard, and cellphone technology evolved eight times over during his tenure, so pete can't take a good photo to save his life. stray blurry fingers in the corners of photos, light glare, terrible framing, that sort of thing.

what this means, of course, is that neither vegas nor pete have a ton of great photos of each other.

but macau is a fucking pro at this shit, okay, macau has studied the blade. so macau takes more than enough photos for the three of them, because he's great, and someone needs to document all the shit they do, and hia and phi better be thankful—

and they are. they'll linger over his shoulder as he's going through his photos, and they'll go "macau, that one's really good," and "can you send that to me?" and macau will start to sense a pattern. namely, his brother and his (soon-to-be!) brother-in-law are gross sappy dorks, and are farming him for photos of each other.

so macau, because he's the bestest little brother ever, starts to deliberately sneak shots of each of them to send to the other. totally unprompted, he'll send vegas these stunning candid shots of pete — pete playfully biting into a chicken skewer, pete waving at macau from a distance while leaning casually against their car, pete smiling off into the sunset. and vegas is down bad for these photos, macau sends him one when they're in the same room and gets to hear vegas make the most embarrassing strangled noise when he opens the notification and macau busts a lung laughing at him about it. (vegas does not put him in a headlock over it, because vegas is an addict, and vegas knows better than to piss off his dealer.)

the catch?

the photos that macau is sending to pete, of vegas... are terrible 😂 meme-worthy levels of cringe. vegas caught mid-snore, vegas's face scrunched up mid-blink, blurry chipmunk vegas with his mouth full of some food or the other. macau even manages to get a shot of vegas tripping and almost faceplanting over a loose branch on the sidewalk, and macau and pete cannot stop giggling about it for a straight fifteen minutes. (vegas is extremely suspicious, and also doesn't want to know, thanks very much.) pete eventually starts setting these photos as his phone lock screen and it drives vegas insane, but of course in the end he lets pete do whatever pete wants. of course he has no idea macau is the real culprit. (this con goes on for years.)

(but macau loves his brother too, so every once in a while, he'll do his brother justice. and he'll send something to pete, and he'll see the most gentle smile spread across pete's face, and he'll think, hell yeah. nailed it. best bro award goes to ME.)

[emmyrosee]

hi emmy! congrats on the milestone!! (im sorry for being late 😔) u deserve so much more love <3!! i feel rlly proud for u, even tho i started following u not long ago :) i can feel u being sincere with everybody which is rlly cool! :D and i wanted to do 27 from your prompt list and 4 from the second list on hugs w/ tsukki :) i hope u have a great day and stay healthy and take care!! -anon :)

YOURE SO SWEET, THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS 🥺💖

Honestly I want this to be a place where anyone feels welcome to poke around, so to kinda hear that you get that vibe really does mean the most. ALSOO my first Tsukki piece!! Hope I didn’t do him dirty!!

27 “I swear, I’m not scared”

4 Hugs “Comforting”

—

“Are you sure-”

“Yup. I am perfectly fine with this circumstance.”

Despite your quivering words and tense shoulders, your eyes never leave the screen. Seems to be mistake, as instantly, the monster portrayed in the film hides just in the background, barely in sight. Kei rolls his eyes while yours absolutely refuse to leave the monster that lingers without being noticed by the protagonists.

Next to you, an equally scared but exponentially enthralled Yachi, on the floor are the other three third years who shout at the stupidity of the characters on screen.

Movie nights have always been a tradition, especially on Halloween; like hell you were going to disrupt the fun.

Not like you were scared or anything.

“If you’re scared, I can ask Tadashi to-”

“I swear, I’m not scared,” you hiss. Your body betrays you, as your finger nails dig at your cuticles, anxiously scanning for the monster the movie finally has panned away from.

“But what if it’s real?” Hinata says, popping some gummy bears in his mouth. 

“What if what’s real?” Kageyama asks back.

“Like, what if you were killed in any rage? Do you think you would come back as one of those?” Hinata’s finger nudges at the screen, referring to the horrors as if they’re not fake.

“You keep talking and I’m gonna kill you in a fit of rage,” Kageyama snaps, and a few feet away, Tadashi snickers.

“If I come back as one of those demons, I’m gonna haunt you so bad!”

Next to him, Kei hears you whimper, and he lets out a snarl at the idea of the others making you afraid.

“That’s enough,” Kei finally snaps. “Shut the hell up, or we’re leaving.”

“What’s the matter?” Hinata teases. “You scaaaared we’re gonna haunt you?”

You look away, embarrassed. If looks could kill, Hinata would be buried by Kei’s.

“You already haunt my everyday life, that’s horrific enough.”

Finally, a quiet falls back over the group, engrossed in the rising tension. You look like you’re completely settled in rigor mortis, and you look so scared he thinks you could puke straight onto Yamaguchi’s rug.

With a deep inhale through his nose, sucking up his pride, Kei wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. You make a small, confused noise at the sudden affection, and he noses at your hairline.

“Kei? What’re you-”

“I’m scared,” he says simply, though there’s a total calm in his voice. He conceals you slightly in his frame, the flashing on screen dimmed in his hoodie fabric. “Hate this shit, but I know you want to finish it, so I’m just gonna... hold you.”

An overly wordy, but extremely soothing “I know your stubborn ass doesn’t want to leave, so I’ll keep your cover.”

You blink, surprised at the gentleness in his voice, but you decide to curl against him adoringly, melting in the comforting embrace, the friends scattered around you two being none the wiser to the chatter between you both.

You press an soft kiss to his jawline, feeling immensely better in the bulk of his arms. Your eyes gently flutter close and you take selfish inhales of his scent, mumbling a soft “thank you,” into the meat of his bicep. He nods and settles back down for his own physical comfort, the whole group gasping out as another scare plagues the air surrounding you both.

The scare fades, and you feel your breathing even out as you rest against your boyfriend, mind at ease and-

“Ohhhhh, I get it! Tsukishima wasn’t scared, but-”

There’s a sudden thump and a pained whine from Hinata, quickly then followed by “don’t kick me, Suckishima!” Your laughter gets muffled in the hoodie, mingled only with the other laughter from the other boy, Yachi quickly asking if the middle blocker was okay.

Definitely a tradition.

[dimeadozencows]

Merry crisis

[hottiehiei]

- Slow burn romance with Hiei PART 3 (Final)

Hiei gets a taste of his own medicine…

sfw, gender neutral, angst, fluff

read PART 1 and PART 2 for the full experience!

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei continues to put up a wall, only this time, it’s stronger than ever. Somehow, the accidental confession only caused more tension. He doesn’t give you the cold shoulder like before, but things aren’t quite the same either. Conversations trail off into silence. Body language becomes stiff and closed off. Longing gazes turn empty.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Truthfully, Hiei feels embarrassed— ashamed even. He lost his composure at the sight of your tears. Now, he can’t bring himself to face you without the entire scene playing over in his head. He convinces himself that you’ll be better off with some other human. Someone that won’t make you cry.

𓆩⟡𓆪 The way he sees it, there are more negatives than positives. He’s a demon, a thief, unfit to be with you. He doesn’t know the first thing about love. The very thought of it makes him uneasy. What could he offer you besides trouble?

𓆩⟡𓆪 With all of these doubts floating around in his head, Hiei makes no attempts to rekindle the relationship, and you give up trying. One could only be turned down so many times before finally taking the hint.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Each passing day, you drift further apart. Your memories with Hiei fade into nothing but a distant dream, as if they never happened in the first place. Once friends, almost lovers, now strangers. There was nothing left for you two….

𓆩⟡𓆪 Yet— the minute you stopped giving Hiei attention, he suddenly felt ill.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Despite his avoidance, he looked forward to hearing you speak to him, or at least look in his direction. It was the only thing he could hold on to, a sign that you still cared.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei watched from afar, irritated beyond belief. You would hang around everyone but him, smiling and joking like normal. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you so happy. Surely Kuwabara wasn’t that funny.

𓆩⟡𓆪 To make matters worse, there was no need for Hiei to swoop in and save you anymore. After spending time with Shizuru, you picked up a few self-defense tricks. You were managing just fine without him.

𓆩⟡𓆪 At this point, Hiei is spiraling. How could you move on so effortlessly? When he tried to break away from you, he nearly lost it. Yet here you are, livelier than ever.

𓆩⟡𓆪 It wasn’t long before you felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head. You turned to meet his stare, fully expecting him to look elsewhere before you could catch him. But he didn’t. He wanted you to look at him. Who cares if it was just for a few seconds. He needed to look you in the eye.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei wouldn’t draw attention to himself without good reason. His face remained stoic, but you suspected he was trying to communicate something. Holding his gaze, you waited with bated breath.

𓆩⟡𓆪 He walked away, but not before signaling you to follow with a subtle tilt of his head. Undeterred by his silence, you trailed behind him until no one else was around. Hiei only says one thing.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

𓆩⟡𓆪 After days of not speaking, you would have liked some kind of explanation, but making any demands would shatter this moment. The only thing you can do is read between the lines. It’s unlike Hiei to be indirect. A hint of uncertainty lingers within his gaze. Seeking you out was a huge step, and he needs reassurance.

𓆩⟡𓆪 As long as you are willing to accept him, Hiei will do his best to keep you happy.

You nod to his question.

Hiei is silent for a moment, unsatisfied.

Just as your heart began to sink, he was standing directly in front of you, one hand cradling the side of your face and the other tracing your bottom lip.

"Use your words.”

He spoke so quietly you thought you misheard him, but the word yes came rushing from your mouth before you realized it.

Then he kissed you

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

extra:

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei takes on the role as your “boyfriend” without formally asking you. He dislikes the word boyfriend, though. It doesn’t fit his taste. It’s too cutesy and teeny. In his eyes, you are his lover. This relationship is far more serious than your average romance. Hiei is attentive to your needs and knows more about you than he lets on. He would put his life on the line for you without hesitation.

𓆩⟡𓆪 A date with Hiei typically involves relaxing outside. It’s his ideal way of spending quality time with you. Chatting about trivial topics or napping while lying on the grass is perfect for bonding. If you aren’t afraid of heights, he carries you up a tall tree so you can admire the view.

𓆩⟡𓆪 In private, Hiei’s love for you is evident, but he’s still a smart ass. He occasionally pokes fun at you in a lighthearted manner.

𓆩⟡𓆪 His possessiveness jumps to a new level. He can freely interject when someone gets too friendly. No more glaring from a distance. He outrightly threatens anyone who gets too close. “I suggest you get lost or die.”

𓆩⟡𓆪 Everyone will start to assume you two are together— or at least have feelings for each other. Hiei doesn’t bother denying the rumors. If Yusuke or Kuwabara try teasing him, he simply tells them to mind their business. Handling those two is nothing, he’s used to the witty banter. However, they might catch him off guard with a suggestive joke.