#black choir dress

[stageaccentsnj]

Aria Short Sleeve Dress

Buy one  of the best concert black dress from stageaccents.com.

Trendy, but sophisticated, this dress features a soft lace inset on the asymmetrical neckline that is highlighted by a scattering of black sequins.

[arisveah]

hermitcraft is slowly removing my willingness to curse and possessing me to say things like HECK and DARN and GOSH GOLLY GEE like a comically angry butler from the 1800s or an old southern lady, neither of which are a good fit on a goth 15 year old

[supercantaloupe]

does anyone have recommendations for where to get a good plus size formal dress

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

Back from seeing the Oedipus Rex play, lives were changed (mine), habits were ruined (will never be able to read greek tragedies again now I need to see all of them live)

[cronagorgonzola]

Fuck i love songs where the meaning of the chorus changes each time it's sung

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

Say what you will about Van Helsing 2004; hate it, love it, be indifferent, But the All-Hallow's masquerade ball went sooooo hard and it had zero right to do so! It's a fun, campy, monster mash movie with wonderfully dated ( and expensive) cgi and non-stop action meant to be a popcorn flick one takes out to watch around spooky season. And it has this* chef's kiss* GORGEOUS 6 minute sequence plopped arbitrarily in the second act, which unexpectedly surpasses nearly every other ball in the last 30+ years of film( notable exception being the Cinderella 2015 ball) for literally no reason other than to be dramatic af.

Like feast your eyes on this Gothic masterpiece!!! Who doesn't want to immediately live in this picture?!??

They used those candles with oil in them so that they would have real candles, real string orchestra( I believe), probably around 100 real life extras( something which is tragically absent in modern film), said extras are all in beautiful fully decked-out costumes( which are in luxuriously dark colours, but nearly no fully black, another thing you cannot say for much modern cinema), REAL CIRQUE DU SOLEIL PERFORMERS for all the acrobatics!!!! Hell, instead of filming in a sound stage, where they could control the reverb and the acoustics and the size of the set and the bloody lighting ( they apparently had a heck of a time emulating the firelight for this sequence) and the temperature( it's very cold in stone churches!) better, they filmed in a Baroque church in Prague! As I said, peak dramatic splendour, jfc...

Think about that a second...They filmed a vampire masquerade in a Baroque Catholic Church( St. Nicholas' in Lesser Town, if you were curious) with amazing over-the-top acoustics and marble statues and real, tiled floors and marble pillars and a choir loft which they very much utilized, covered the pipe organ and the altar with a grand brocade curtain so it wouldn't be so obviously a, you know, a church! And there's a gold gilt elevated and canopied pulpit into which they put two vampire kiddies for, again, the sake of being dramatic.

And the costumes! They remind me of the 25th anniversary Phantom of the Opera Masquerade costumes. Same quality, like they're old, well-cared-for costumes pulled out of a warehouse, instead of fast industry churn-outs. With lots of trim and colour and masks and lace and feathers and..just...ugh.. they are all perfect! Just look at all the head pieces on the ladies and the hats on all the gentleman ( save Dracula of course) and the powdered wigs on the musicians. ANNNNDD! The dresses are historically correct!!!!!! It's the 80's bustle era! Nobody does the 80's bustle era in film anymore and it's a bummer. Oh and one other thing! Anna's ( and other women's) hair, at least here in the ball, is also historically accurate because it's all pinned up! None of those fucken modern beachwaves at a ball! Everybody's got updo's!

Gah, I swear, Dracula in his gold cloak really does things to me in this scene!

By the way, the acrobatics are bonkers in here for just background stuff!! Especially the random guys on unicycles and the dude playing the violin whilst standing on a ball...Like....WHAT?

Anyways, all this to say, that this masquerade ball feels sooo real and tangible and because of that it blows every other film out of the water, and no, I will not change my mind!!!!!

Here's a few more gifs, bcuz, why the hell not, this scene is sexy as fuu*ck?

Alright I need to go to bed now.

[nemesyaaa]

losing my religion // dark!cult leader!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; god loves you but not enough to save you.

warnings : mentions of religions. manipulation. cult. smut. corruption kink. small town church trope. religious trauma. purity/innocence kink. slight of god complex. first time. dark/soft!rafe. mentions of murder. sweet lamb trope. coercion. smoking. little age gap. heaven goal. mentions of size kink. glorification. be careful with the warnings. minors DNI.

author's note : it's around 5k words. pfiouuuu. televangelism by ethel cain playing in the background please.

“ father, will i go to heaven ? ”

“ father, will i be this good all my life ? ”

“ father, where was god when i thought he was there ? ”

“ father, did god let me sin on purpose ? ”

you lived in a small remote village, the kind of town where everyone knew each other, and where there were no secrets. well, you thought there were no secrets because everyone here was a true and firm believer. all the locals lived for god. and you would do anything for him and for your ticket to heaven. you had been baptized as a baby and had grown up as a child of the lord, and his most faithful angel. you have acted so well since your childhood and were sure that your death will be a pleasant trip to paradise.

you went to church every day because you always had something to say to god, to ask him, to make him understand. you prayed to speak to him, for him to see you, for him to hear you, for him to know how grateful you were for the life he had given you. your parents had always recommended that you cherish your existence, but also everything that happened to you, the misfortunes as well as the pleasures. life was neither all rosy, nor all white, nor gray or black. you were the only person to give it color. so your religious sister told you that you just needed to know how to paint, but that sometimes you would fail, you would fail but that it didn't matter. because you will make a masterpiece again sooner or later.

you were a devoted child, a faithful lamb with no anger inside, but above all full of love. you gave it to everyone when god had taught you and commanded you to share it as much as possible, that it was this feeling that would bring peace on earth. and who did not want peace, who did not want to please his creator? you were a good girl, so sweet and innocent, the kind sweetheart of the town, incapable of harm or sin, always dressed in your white dress and your little black shoes. you wear everything that can please god. you walked through the church hallway to join the choir, holding the candles. the world had his eyes on you, but especially this tall man lodged in the dark corner.

this man was not god and you knew it, because god would never look at you that way.

you wouldn't know how to describe this gaze on you, but it made you uncomfortable. you continued to move forward, holding the flame preciously against you. you sang with your angelic voice, glory to the almighty, glory to the one who made your existence so beautiful, to bring your back to life every time you felt, and this guy was still staring at you like you were the only person that existed, like the world had taken away the entire universe except you.

maybe you were an angel. after all, you were among the Lord's faithful.

you had never dated a man in your life. your parents and god forbid you, because you needed to stay pure for the good one. you had to remain virgin and clean for your future husband. you were forbidden to look at them, touch them or talk to them except for church activities. you were so loved by god so you had no right to sin, no fucking right to betray him. you had to remain as intact as the mother of everyone, as virgin mary.

you were as holy as the bible, the treasure of the creator. you were devoted like a lamb to his owner, as the followers to the cult leader.

you had never experienced something like touching yourself, making yourself feel good, and anything that included carnal pleasures. you didn't know about pornography, sexuality and lust. you walked away from it as if it were the devil. you were unable to make your god mad, you were too scared for that.

you were faithful to the lord. you helped the people of the village, homeless, the destitute, poor children, the elderly, you helped the world become a better place even when it seemed to be turning against you.

at the end of the mass, everyone, the priest had sent you to collect the funds from the locals.

you were standing in front of the steps. people were always kind and smiling to you as you were collecting funds for the church.

and you had been waiting for this voice to come at you.

“do you really want to go to heaven ? ”

you turned to face the man from earlier, the one hidden in the benches. you answered him with the sweetest smile, and the most nervous look. "yes, i do everything to go there. am i not good enough ? "

“everything?” the stranger had laughed kindly, but it had offended you slightly with that soft giggle.

“ why are you laughing ? this is not funny. ”

“ slow down, baby. you're too pretty to get on your nerves. ” he had pulled out a cigarette.

“will you forget God for a second and be an angel to me ? ”

“ God is in my heart, is in me. i can't forget him, even for a second. he's the reason why i'm living. ”

“ be sweet, angel and light it for me. don't say no, your divine father is watching you, you don't want him to catch you refusing to help a stranger and be mad at you? ” you looked at him with strange open eyes but you accepted. because he was right.

you didn't know how to say no to people. God didn't teach you to say no. people needed to help the people.

you lit his cigarette, and during the whole process he looked at you, his glare scanned your face. you were staring at him, and saw your own silhouette in his eyes, your shadow dancing in the perfect blue of his pupils.

you felt the heat in your cheeks, the burn of his gaze on your skin. you were unwell. you didn't like this situation, the unsteady feeling, the stranger proximity.

when you met him, you felt like a sinner more than a believer.

but he smiled at you. the soft kind of smile that made you forget everything, that made you feel so dumb.

“would i go to heaven now?” you teased him with a small laugh to echo his words.

“not yet but i can help you if you want if you're serious about that.” he answered.

“ i'm serious. ” you were really curious, and he had your full attention. you knew it wasn't good to talk for that long with a man. especially, older. but you took the risk.

you should have stopped when he complimented you because your parents said that men who are nice to girls like you always have bad intentions. but there was also something so charming and bewitching about this man. the way he was adorable. you didn’t see the evil in him.

“i really want to go to heaven, i swear on my life, sir. ”

“ sir ? such a polite thing but i'm not that old, sweetheart. i'm tall, not too old. ”

“ anyways, i really want to go to heaven !! ”

“you already said it, doll. i think God is tired of hearing it now. he wants proof, you know. he needs to see how devoted you are to him. ”

“how can i prove it to him?”

"i know God. i talk to him every day. i am his ruler. do you know what that means? that i am the one who decides for him whether people go to heaven or not. i am his most loyal servant, so he trusts me.”

“are you really connected to God?”

"you are too. we all are but the difference is that i can take you to heaven. i promise you." he placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it gently , a tender and unique gesture that made you shyly smile. “i’m not an angel. not yet.”

"yes, i assure you. i knew it as soon as i saw you in that church. join me." he announced with a warm voice.

“you have always been divine, i never doubted it. you have to go to heaven, you understand? you can't behave so well, be so charitable and disappoint God? and you wouldn't dare doing it, don't you, pretty lamb ? because do you think he will forgive you ? no, sweetheart. you will be punished and rejected like every sinners. ”

“ you're wrong ! God loves me ! ”

“you don't understand. you must be perfect until the end, you must be a great god masterpiece, not his biggest failure. you can't just be the chorus of this choir, be the beautiful thing who holds the candles at mass, the kind soul who helps others. you can't be just that when i can offer you even better and absolutely everything you want. any of your wishes. join me and i will make all your wishes come true, i will make you the new face of the paradise. i will make God see you everywhere. ”

"it seems so unreal...i don't know..."

he had cut you. he didn't want to give you time to think, leaving room for the barrier of doubt."you have to join me, isn't that what you wanted? for me to find you? if you believe in god, you have to be a good girl, make the right choices. "

“okay….” you finally agreed.

he waited for you in his car, one hand on the steering wheel. and you joined him inside. there was so much euphoria in you. you felt like you were doing something so right, so you had this goofy smile on your face.

"does God think i'm a good believer ? i pray every day, i attend mass every time, i sing in the choir and in my rooms all the songs dedicated to him. i only have the Bible as a book and i read it all the time. i can't do anything wrong. i'm good, i promise, i'm good. ”

"is that true? you'll have to show me so I can tell."

“I’m going to pray for you too.” you added. “I pray for all the souls in this world.”

“oh yes my angel will pray for me. i want to hear your prayers, all your prayers about me. but not in front of me. "

“ why ? ”

“ seeing you bent on your knees for me will make me sin. i wish you could see the kind of temptation you are. ”

you had arrived in front of a mansion. you were so flustered and nervous. you didn't understand what you were doing in front of this place, and why he had brought you here. he took your hand, reassuring you with his touch, and guided you inside.

you were not alone. there were other people, women and men. all dressed slightly the same, as if there was a regulation outfit. the atmosphere was strange, a little sectarian. there was an organ playing in the background, and everyone was looking at you kindly so you tried to relax.

"don't be afraid. they're like you, they just want to go to heaven. can you understand?"

you nodded and he showed you around all the places. he even showed you a room and said it would be yours. she was pretty, absolutely perfect but she wasn't yours. not that of your house.

"I'm not going home?..."

"what do you mean? this is your home now. we're a family."

"a family? i have parents, they will worry…”

"i thought you wanted to be close to God. were they lies? you know, you shouldn't joke with religion, and with words. if you want to be a good little christian, if you want to go to heaven, it is to me, and only to me, that you must be devoted.”

"I...I...no, i promise! I'm sincere! i'm sorry, really, I'm sorry. " you now felt terrible. there were so many tears in your eyes, you couldn't even see the room clearly.

the man smiled before taking you in his arms. "it's nothing, you just need to be clearer with your words, okay? I'm your only savior, you don't need others.”

he had wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I have a gift for you…” he whispered and you found your smile again.

no one ever gave you gifts. it was so rare. “open it” he told you.

it was a dress. not the one you usually wore. “you have to put it on. don't you want to shine, shooting star ? ”

" now ? "

"now." his voice was a little firmer.

“i can’t change in front of you…” you admitted. "you're a man...and I'm a girl...it's sinful, it's like having sex! we have to get married to have that intimacy. "

he smiled and laughed. "you've never been naked in front of someone? you've never left this body in front of someone else?"

he had approached, slipping up behind you, towering over you with his height, his hands resting on the corners of your trembling shoulders.

“my sweet thing, it’s as if you’re begging me to corrupt you.”

“what do you mean?”

“that i must see this body.”

" Is it bad?"

“What would be bad, angel, would be to upset me.”

he had pulled the tab of your dress to lower it a little. there were shivers in your body. you felt like you were doing something wrong.

"you're not doing anything wrong. this is what god wants you to do. he told me."

" It's true ? "

“ only the truth. just now. i wouldn't dare lying to you, my sweet. ”

there was nothing you could refuse god. If it were his will, you would do anything.

"but I've never done anything like that? I always thought it was wrong, that I didn't have the right."

he pulled your dress down to the floor, your naked body revealed in the mirror. you could feel his gaze growing more intense as he took in everything you had shown him. "is my body okay? I mean, this is the first time anyone has seen it so..."

"sweetheart, I've never seen anything so beautiful. but I don't just have to see it to judge it, I have to touch it. will you let me ? "

“Lust is a sin.”

“do you want to know my name?”

you had just now realized that you didn't even know his identity. you nodded your head.

“rafe.” he spelled it. “ you must know my name to pray for me, but also to glorify me.”

“glorify ?”

"you must glorify me. salute me and worship me. these are the rules if you want to go to heaven. you must be devoted, I told you.."

" fine…”

he sat on the bed, and you moved closer but he stopped you.

"no, no. all this sweetness but no useful brain ? ” he mocked. “ to worship me, you must be on your knees. ” he said, crossing his arms on his chest.

“ treat me as the same way you treat your god, angel. because this is what i am to you. i want to see your legs bow down for me, i want to see them treading the ground up to me. i want to see that precious look at the same height of my knees, let me see that head lifted up to glory me. "

he had lit a cigarette, the fourth since you had spoken, and had smiled when you started walking on your knees towards him.

he pressed his hand against the growing bulge in his pants.

“open your mouth.” he commanded and you obeyed, and he slipped his cigarette between your lips. “don’t smoke it, hold it only. don't go against my rules. can i trust this dumb baby brain for once to not disappoint me ? ”

he had taken off his pants, with his boxers. and you turned your head, strongly ashamed by his action.

he mocked gently. “in your place, i would not look away, that would avoid unpleasant surprises when this thing will be buried inside your virgin cunt, sweetheart. ”

he had retrieved his cigarette, and turned your head towards him.

"I can't believe you've never seen one. you've been such a good girl to me. you've been waiting for me. "

“will god hate me?”

“how can i show it to you?”

"it's not god you have to fear, it's me, sweetheart because I'm the only one who will decide for you from now on. do you understand? I have to be sure that you are deserving."

“give me your hand. let me guide you...do you trust me? ”

“ i trust you, rafe. ”

he had positioned your hand on his cock which was already hard. you shivered. your hand was clumsy around his painfully boner. yet you had heard him let out a grunt.

his fingers moved with yours, accompanying you in his lewd movements. you had god in your head, heart and body but your fingers fisted around that thick dick made you warm and good. you hated that feeling, but you can't deny the pleasure. it was the first time. you weren't used to it. you moved back and forth with little confidence, while he kept your grip around his bulge. you followed his back and forth, pumping him with fragility. you weren't sure if it felt good but his muscles had tightened.

your fist slid over his length, your hand working massively. your touch was divine, he threw his head back. you could feel his abs twitching in synch.

“open those legs. let me see that sweet untouched pussy. i'm gonna take such good care of it. are you still trusting me ? ”

“ yes…”

you didn't want to. it flowed between your thighs, the wetness spurted in a mess on the floor. and you weren't sure if that was a good thing. you couldn't tell if it was pleasure or not. it was new to you.

“trust me, you don’t want to make me repeat that a second time. do you ? ”

and that was enough for you to bend to his will.

"you feel, baby ? the sweet mess between your legs ? don't hide from me. ”

you continued to masturbate him up and down. you turned him on so much that he already wanted to come in your hand. his cock twitched in your hold and his balls slapped repeatedly against his skin.

"does that make you feel good? do I need to do better? do you want me to put my lips on..."

he had cum on your face. and you stepped back in surprise. “let me clean you up…”

you came back to him thinking he was going to wipe you but he caught his seed with his fingers, and brought them to your mouth. “if you don’t want me to put them down your throat, you better lick them now.”

you lapped up every last bit of cum on his fingers until they turned white again. you knew he was serious when he threatened you. "that wasn't really a warning, I'll do it someday. I really want to use every part of your body. and you'll let me. yes ?”

“whatever you want...”

he smiled and stroked your hair. “you learn quickly.”

you didn’t really know why but his recognition made you happy. she had an impact on you. you needed, and sought, his validation. it promised you to be even closer to god, to show god that you were faithful to him.

you had this urgency to please rafe, to show him that you could be really good.

for rafe, you were another girl that he led into his cult, another lamb in the troop. you were perfect, you always had the profile. he knew it as soon as he saw you.

he had come to the church only to see you. he attended every mass and ceremony hoping to corrupt you. you were so innocent, so kind and so sweet, and above all, you were ready for anything.

you prayed every day and read the Bible. so you had a desire, a goal, a faith.

he had placed you on his legs, his hands caging your waist, wrapping each part of your hips. “I’m going to make you an angel.” he had said, rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet entrance.

“I’m going to go to heaven?”

"it's heaven that will beg for you to come to it, I can even say. but you still have to do one thing for me..."

“tell me. I’ll do anything.”

" good. i really want you to take that dick. show me how much you want to reach eden, i want to see god in you when i'm fucking you. i want to hear prayers in that mouth for how i make you feel, how perfect i am to you and that sweet cunt of yours.”

you rubbed your dripping pussy against his cock, feeling the feverish, leaking tip against your slick folds. you had gently entered him between your impenetrable walls until now, letting out a long and loud moan when you felt his dick getting even harder inside you. It took you several bounces on his thighs to get used to, your pussy stretching around him. you could feel every inch of his length filling your canal but also widening it.

his large hands covered your ass, gripping the gummy flesh of your cheeks, his body moving and following your movements. he had grabbed your face to force a kiss from your already open lips, sliding his tongue against yours. a drool dripped from your jaw, as your pelt slammed and bounced violently against his. your hands were around his neck, trying to keep up the pace.

seeing you struggling and jiggling, he laughed. “even if you had prayers, you couldn’t even say them, too fucking dumb for that shit, right now ? ”

and it was true, you weren't even able to say a word without gurgling. you had tears streaming down your face, your moans were locked against rafe's glossy and pretty mouth, and you were trying hard to take his big cock as best you could. his dick was stuck between your sticky walls, your breasts hitting her toned chest.

“keep going, you’re perfect…” his smile was evil because it motivated you.

you were riding him without even being able to think. you were a fragile little thing doing bad things with a bad guy.

but you wanted to please him. you wanted rafe cameron to think you were good and deserving. you wanted to go to heaven, so you did your best.

and he knew it. you had broken your purity for him.

you were convinced to do something right, convinced that god saw you and that he would be proud to see you so devoted to him.

you didn’t see the harm. you were an angel and you let a demon corrupt you.

you had succumbed to man and his vices, you had let sin enter into you, and let it do you good.

rafe knew what he was doing. you had been his prey. and he couldn't wait to see you at his feet, to make you his perfect doll that he could handle so easily.

because it was only the beginning before you were completely his, completely in control of you, choosing what you eat, what you want, what you wear, what you think.

you were his and his only.

you were his nice girl, not god's one, the one who smiled at everyone, who always prayed in the church pews, who helped those most in need.

he had found you and snatched you from god. because it wasn't him to whom you owed your life. you were wrong and he had to correct that.

you were an angel, and he loved seeing you cry for him. your tears was made for being looked by his ocean eyes, to felt loved by his kisses.

he was completely buried inside you, plunged so deep that you were completely dizzy. and every time you thought he couldn't go any further, he surprised you. you were pretty sure he could put a baby inside you right now, just from the way his cock thrusted inside you, invading your shaking body.

you had squirted and cried, accompanying your tears with apologies. "you're fine. it's just means you liked it. it will also happen to me, angel. don't worry.”

the more he called you angel, the more you began to believe that you were one. you had squirted again but now you weren't scared anymore because he had reassured you. you had been afraid that it would be a disgusting thing and that he wouldn’t want you anymore.

but it was so strange. he was both gentle and cold.

“stop...I’m going to be pregnant!”

"that's not how it works...but if that's what you want, I can take care of it...whatever the angel wants.”

after that day, your life had been totally different, completely transformed by rafe.

you were part of this community now. you were all brothers and sisters, united for a common goal. you always prayed. but above all, you were completely manipulated. you were so controlled that you forgot your family, your friends, your entourage, your involvement in church. only god remained with you. he was still there.

you wore the outfits rafe wanted you to wear, you ate the food he wanted, you only talked about topics he allowed, you became someone else. you were what he wanted you to be.

but one night you heard god. you were sure it was his voice in the darkness. you were sleeping in rafe cameron’s arms, his bicep resting on your stomach. it was strange to see him sleeping like a child when he behaved like that.

you had begun to follow god’s voice in the darkness, your feet pacing and pacing through the empty hallways. the light guided you, it was he who accompanied you. he pulled you out, into the huge garden.

“do you think you can leave? do you think you can leave me ? are you that fucking dumb ? ”

Rafe’s voice made you jump. you weren't sure if you woke him up because you were a quiet person. but now he was in front of you, and he really didn't look very happy.

"I have to leave..."

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

“god spoke to me.”

"oh really? god may be talking to you but you need to listen to me. aren't you grateful for the life i gave you? didn't you want to be good? you're tear up your ticket to paradise. just bury yourself alive at this point."

tears had started to fall down your cheeks. you felt trapped because you didn't know who to listen to. god or this man?

your feet moved towards rafe. as you approached, his arms stretched out as if to reassure you.

“i’m sorry….i'm really sorry…..”

“i know you are but you also know that it’s not enough.”

“so tell me what i need to do to be good enough? ”

“you must sacrifice yourself. ” he said with that deep serious tone.

you looked at him with fear. you couldn't kill yourself.

“ i can’t kill myself, rafe…”

“i know, angel but don't worry, i will. ”

“ what do you mean ? i always did what you wanted me to do, i always been so good to you, i never be against you and your rules ! you promised me heaven, you promised me....everything. was that a lie ? you 'ever be serious to me ? answer me...never ? rafe, i was all what you wanted me to be, even that was not enough for you ? ”

“ i really wish you were. any last word, baby? ”

“ can you at least shoot me in the heart ? ”

“ tell me why...”

“ it's the last part of me you never took away from me. but now that i will die, you can take it. it's all yours. ”

[wakandama2]

I wanna Black Carrie-inspired movie, real rep for us stuck in a white country town Black girls. So, walk wit me real quick-

Locational Background: We still set in the late 70's. Set in multiple rural towns, the main town being Chamberlain, Missouri when the meat of the story takes place. We are firmly in the upper south/Midwest tho.

Our Carrie inspired MC is named Alanna(will be relevant and fucked up later)

Alanna's Mama, Evette, is a Black white passing woman and was the daughter of the town's Black tailor and his wife a music teacher and a righteous choir leader for the Black church who was known for a 'voice of power' that was known to shake the church foundations and make people run around the building in glory.

This gift is passive in Evette leaving her with just a beautiful singing voice. Evette's voice and virtuous image and ways draws the attention of a traveling white Evangelistic-leaning cult leader, Alan Hobbs (he's kinda Jim Jones esc) who whisked her off to join his 'missionary' in order to travel around the country to warn of the rapture and demand repentance of sinners.

He unofficially marries her and gets her pregnant and when Alanna comes out looking very visibly Black, he tries to kill her as a baby because he would expose him as being 'sinful'. Alanna's gift activates through her cries and controls Evette's body and makes her stop Alan from killing their baby. Evette screams in despair and her own gift kills him. Evette's feverish (and kinda delusional) faith of what Alan taught her is the only thing that keeps her together when she has to hide his murder and head back to Chamberlain, taking care of Alanna the whole way.

When Evette gets back to her hometown and relays the story to her mother in distress. Her mother is relieved and reveals that the women in their family having Powerful Voices is a gift from their greatest grandmother as she had been blessed to use it to protect her daughters and sisters during slavery. She also confirms to Evette that Alanna's voice has the potential for Powers Grander than the last four generations of women.

Evette skews this information with the teachings of "women's sinful nature" that Alan had taught her and concluded that the gift is actual evil and a curse of sin. She convinces herself that Alanna is the sign of the devil's return and it's her job to quell her.

Evette cuts herself off from her family (especially her maternal side) and runs away to raise Alanna by herself in Chamberlain, pretending that Alanna is actually her niece and taking a public vow of silence (both for her faith and her misplaced guilt for killing Alan) She uses the tailoring skills her father taught her to work as a laundress and commission dress maker for the local tailor.

Between baby to 15 years old for Alanna, It's very much like the movies, Evette being incredibly strict and abusive in teaching Alanna that simply being a woman, was being sinful and to bundle down her emotions because having a temper or tone, to be anything other than submissive and quiet was just as sinful as womanhood. This lesson was particularly to stop Alanna from activating her powers again. There is an additional impact of insecurity she puts into Alanna with her looking Black and being one of the very few colored girls in the town.

Like Carrie, our poor Alanna gets her period for the first time during gym and none of her classmates, besides her only friend an equally shy Creek girl named Talia, are kind to her about it. Her distress makes the showers freak out and ground shake Talia is the only one that calms Alanna enough for the gym teacher to intervene and actually be of use. The gym teacher calls Evette to the school to get Alanna and explain menstruation to her.

After explaining how menstruation is all Eve's fault to Alanna, Evette has her take a cold bath and to read the story of Adam and Eve over and over again. During her bath time as she reads, rage fills Alanna as she gathers feelings that the biting of the apple and getting kicked out of Eden was a trick done on Eve, not her being sinful and selfish. This jolts her powers and with an angry whisper about how wicked the snake was, Alanna suddenly heats the bath water to a temperature that helps with her cramps and is intrigued.

Cue her being excused to the library that entire week. When Talia sneaks out to join her one day she relays all her questions and findings to Talia. Talia confirms that yes, it is NOT normal to heat water or cause quakes with her voice. Period of not. Talia explains how she was an early bloomer like her mother and grandmother and inspires Alanna to look into her mother's side to get explanations.

Now cue Alanna and Talia hijinks as they secretly research and test Alanna's powers for the rest of the week and weekend. Alanna finds all the letters her grandmother had set to Evette trying to convince her that their gift is a good thing and that she is a good woman. Reveling the deep history and various ways the powers of their voice can manifest. Alanna actually contacts her grandmother (call or letters idk what was more efficient for the 70s lol)

During all of this, the other girls are still hazing Alanna (and y'know being both macro and micro racist in their bullying). This comes to a head that next week where the prank they do gets Alanna nearly drowned during swim day.

This causes rage to rear up in Evette that she hadn't felt in years and she lays into the principal and gym teacher to actually give the girls repercussion for their actions. Leading to the three ringleaders to get suspended for a week and banned from prom that following week. They also have to write an essay about kindness.

One of the girls (uh, let's call her Cynthia) actually learns that damn, I was being a mean racist bitch for no damn reason, this girl hasn't done anything to me to warrant this treatment. She becomes cordial with Talia, then works with her Football Captain brother to put Alanna on the radar of the Black boy, Adam, and help him to woo Alanna.

At the same time this outburst of herself and near reemergence of her powers scares Evette and she confronts Alanna to see if it was actually her daughter's powers that caused it (just like at her birth). Alanna says no it was Evette's own and this causes her mother to break down and force a confession from Alanna that yes, she knows about their gift of a Powerful Voice and had been writing letters/calling her grandmother for information.

The two get into basically a battle of Powerful Voice in the argument, nearly causing a damn tornado to hit the town. Alanna proves that she has the greater voice just like her grandmother predicted (also because Alanna has been practicing). This puts her mother into submission and Alanna starts to demand and affirm more kindness (or at least being left tf alone) from her mother.

That whole week of suspension, Alanna is smitten from the soft wooing from Adam and coaxing of Talia and Cynthia for her to accept his prom proposal. While all this happens, the other ringleader (Uh, Susan!) is planning to do the whole public humiliation thing and to have her equally loser boyfriend slash Adam's tires and ruin his battery so Alanna can't get away afterwards.

Alanna grows into her powers, Evette grows more paranoid and passive aggressive. Constantly pestering Alanna that this was a test of the devil. Alanna talks to her about how much she's been hurt by her and for her to confront who hurt her before she loses her daughter. Alanna continues prepping for prom with Talia and her mother's help instead. Alanna gives her mother one more chance to be happy or show support to her daughter. Evette blows it (They are all gonna laugh at you!)

Prom... Happens. Y'all know the drill. Cynthia learns about the prank, tries to get to prom in time. Susan and her dickhead BF scare her by threatening to lie to her father that she's been hooking up with Adam putting both their lives in danger. Alanna is living it up at Prom with Adam and Talia. Cynthia is able to risk it and get Talia's attention to try and earn her, however they end up getting locked out and harassed by the dickhead boyfriend's greasy ass buddies and have to lock into Adam's car for safety.

Pig Blood (or maybe motor oil and chicken feathers) happens, Adam is KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS ( bad gash and concussion fosure) by the bucket falling, racist bs happen.

Alanna clutches Adam close as everyone hollars and taunts her. The school official barely doing anything to try and quell them or laughing along. The few other students of color use their sense of danger to either get the fuck outta there or try to help Alanna and Adam.

Alanna whispers them all to sleep. Prays for protection and calm for them.

Then. She. Screams.

I want FIRE, SCALDING SPRINKLERS, MFUKAS BEING CRUSHES SLAMMED AND CHOKED.

BLACK GIRL MUTHAFUCKIN RAGE TO RIP THEM ALL APART AND RUBBLE THE BUILDING THAT HOUSED ALL THAT HATE

Talia and Cynthia witness it all. The guys that were cornering them are fucking smite by one loud sigh coming from Alanna's mouth when she spots them. Alanna takes in the chaos and can only nod and start walking home, locking her friends into the car for safety.

Say what y'all want about 2013 Carrie, that car wreck scene? Happen exactly to Susan and Dickhead BF when they try to run Alanna over.

Alanna gets home to find Evette crying over the letters from her own mother. The phone has been shattered into pieces and Alanna breaks down and tells Evette everything.

Evette comforts Alanna, true comfort, for the first time in a decade. Bathing, dressing, cleaning and greasing Alanna's scalp as she sings delicate lullabies to her. She makes hot coca and wraps Allan up in a family quilt, reciting the story of Mary and the birth of Jesus to her in a cozy whisper.

As this happens the rescuers are only able to dig out Adam and the few others that tried to help Alanna, out the rubble whole and alive. They break Talia and Cynthia out of the car and the two girls run to Alanna's house. They are barely a block away then the earth rips open and screams. Quake after quake as a twister roars over them and heat snaps into the air, forcing them to huddle into a ditch as God gets angry.

Cars suddenly come to life and speed down the road to crash into the Hobbs' household.

7 minutes later. All is calm. Just a regular spring night, the only thing left is chaotic debris and soft wind.

All that's left of Evette within the mangled and smoldering remains of her home is her charred corpse clutching a pristine crucifix and the ribboned ends of Alanna's braids. The MD determined that the support beam tore through her chest and killed her first before the fire got to her. That the fire is what left just ash and braids of Alanna.

"Good. That Black Devil is banished back to hell." Is what the white pastors and the police chief says.

"My she burn and my child rest." Says parents that don't realize they raised nothing but viscous bullies.

"My friend is gone and I don't blame her for the mess it left behind. But...now I gotta go." Is what Talia tells Cynthia as she and her family flee the town just three days after it all.

Adam is sent to Chicago with his first broken heart.

But little do any know, about the green pickup that flew down the dirt roads, back to a lazy and quiet rural town that Alanna never got a chance to remember before.

Her Grandmother strokes her hair as she drives and tells the mute and shaking girl the story about the slave mother who would rather her baby be dead and free then living and in chains.

[footballfanficwriter]

Prise giving ceremony

Summary:Jude and the reader are invited for their children's prize giving Ceremony

"Jude c'mon we're gonna be late" I say

"Yeah, I'm coming" he says, he takes my hand and we make it out the front door

"I've already spoken to mum she says they'll meet us there, cause they need to get a few things before the Ceremony starts" He says

"Are your parents going to be there?"

"I don't know honestly, but it would be really Nice if they showed up, it would mean so much to the kids if they did"

"Hey don't worry, even if they don't show up, I'm sure it will still be fun"

"Yeah"

" how many awards do you think the kids will get?"

"I don't know, besides, I don't care I'll be proud of them either way"

"Yeah, me too, But you know how they are, they always want to be top achievers in everything they do"

"I think they get that from the both of us to be honest"

"I don't always strive to be a top achiever"

"Yes you do Jude"

"How?"

"What about that time after one of your matches and you didn't play the way you wanted to, were you not having a fit?"

"I did not"

"Babe you did"

"Well you're also like that"

"Oh I already know I strive to be a top achiever, I'm not going to deny who i am"

"Whatever" he says rolling his eyes

"But I'm sure the genes didn't spread to our kids, right?"

"Yeah, no that is a lie, our children are so competitive it worries me sometimes"

"You're overreacting"

"Oh, am I?"

"Yeah you are"

"Remember that time when Julian, lost his football game and he got so upset he wouldn't even eat his dinner?, or what about the time Julia didn't get first prize for her 1200m run, and she nearly fought the girl who did, need I go on?"

"Alright you've made your point"

"Thank you"

We arrive at the school and Jude parks the car, he walks out of the car and comes around my side to open my door

"Thank you"

"It's a pleasure babe"

"You actually look beautiful in that outfit you know"

"Really, you like it?"

"I love it"

Jude has a black turtleneck on, with a suit Jacket, black slacks and dress shoes and a silver Rolex watch, while I have on a black dress that reaches just past my knees, with a criss cross back and a slight low V cut in the front, matched with a pair of black heels a gold necklace, gold earrings and my wedding ring

As we enter the venue we see people taking pictures, no dought that these pictures will be on the internet by the time the ceremony is over

When we enter the venue we find Denise,Mark and Jobe sat in the second row behind all the teachers and principals, we make our way to where they are sitting and greet them

"Mom we're here" Jude says

They turn their heads towards us and stand up

"Hi Darling, you alright" Denise says greeting me and coming in for a hug

"Yeah mom, I'm alright"

"Aren't you proud"

"Very proud"

Mark taps my shoulder getting my attention

"Hey" he says coming in for a hug

"Hi dad, how've you been?"

"I'm alright"

I greet Jobe and give him a brotherly hug while he daps Jude up

We all take our seats with me sandwiched in between Jude and Denise and Mark sitting next to Denise and Jobe

The MC starts the program and the school choir sings the school song, after that the MC starts her opening speech

"Good evening everyone, we're so grateful for your presence here tonight, thank you for coming to celebrate the children who have undoubtably worked hard to achieve these achievements, without further ado let's get started, I would like to call on Mrs. Clinton to come and present the awards"

Mrs. Clinton walks onto the stage and greets everyone

"Good evening everyone, I am here in front of you all to present the special awards to the children, the first award is awarded to the most creative student, Jessica James"

Everyone claps for Jessica as she walks onto the stage to get her award

"Why does she walk like that" Jude asks

"Don't Judge other people's kids Jude"

"Next, this award is for the most kindest and caring student who always puts other's needs before their own, this award is awarded to Ronald Johnson"

People clap for Ronald and  he collects his award

"Those are some big glasses he's got on" he says as he fists his hands making a hole in between each hand and putting each fisted hand on each eye

"Jude, stop" I say tying to hold my laugh in

"Next this award is for the most improved student, who has improved either academically or Socially, having had a hard start when they first arrived in the school and to adapting the school's culture, this award is given to Melissa Hall"

Melissa collects her award and we all clap for her

"Now lastly this award is a prestigious one and is a shared by two students, this award is for the most ambitious and Hardworking students, Julia and Julian Bellingham"

Both Julia and Julian walk onto stage to get their shared award, I turn to my right to see Mark filming Every moment

Jude and I stand up so both of them can see us, they see us and wave and we return the gesture by smiling and waving

Next they announce that they'll be announcing the prizes for the year 1s ( first graders)

Which is Julian and Julia's year (grade)

"We will first start with the year 1s and their achievements" the MC Says

"I would like to call Mrs. Madden to the stage to present the Awards"

Mrs. Madden walks onto the stage, greets the audience, and continues Jude gives me a side eye as if to say "look at her outfit" Mrs. Madden has on an old looking cardigan and a pair of baggy trousers, bright red glasses and Pebbles/stones for Jewelry "Good evening, everyone. It's my pleasure to present the awards for the Year 1 students. These young minds have shown remarkable dedication and enthusiasm throughout the year. First, we'll start with the award for Excellence in Mathematics, which goes to... Julian Bellingham!"

The audience erupts in applause as Julian confidently strides to the stage to accept his award. His smile is radiant, and his eyes gleam with pride.

"That's my boy," Jude whispers to me, his face beaming with pride. I squeeze his hand, sharing in the moment of joy.

Julian accepts his award, posing for a quick photo before returning to his seat.

"Next, the award for Outstanding Performance in English goes to... Julia Bellingham!"

Julia, not to be outdone by her brother, walks gracefully to the stage, her expression one of quiet confidence. The applause is even louder this time, with our family cheering her on.

"I'm so proud of them," I say to Jude, my eyes welling up with tears of happiness.

"I know, me too," Jude replies, his voice full of emotion.

Julia accepts her award and waves at us again before taking her seat beside Julian.

Mrs. Madden continues, "The next award is for Excellence in Sports. This student has shown exceptional talent and dedication in various sports activities. The award goes to... Julian Bellingham!"

Julian gets up again, looking slightly embarrassed but very pleased as he accepts his second award. The applause is thunderous.

"He's going to need a bigger shelf for all these awards," Jude jokes, making me laugh.

"And finally," Mrs. Madden announces, "the award for Leadership and Teamwork goes to a student who has demonstrated exceptional leadership skills and the ability to work well with others. This award goes to... Julia Bellingham!"

Julia stands up for the second time, her face glowing with pride. She walks to the stage, collects her award, and waves once more, her smile brighter than ever.

As the ceremony concludes, the children are invited to take pictures with their families. Jude and I rush to the front to congratulate our kids, enveloping them in big, proud hugs.

"You both did amazing!" I say, kissing each of their foreheads.

"We're so proud of you," Jude adds, ruffling Julian's hair and hugging Julia tightly.

"Thanks, Mom and Dad!" they both say, their faces glowing with happiness.

Denise, Mark, and Jobe join us, offering their congratulations. Denise takes out her phone and suggests, "Let's get a family picture to remember this moment."

We gather together, with Julian and Julia holding their awards proudly. As the camera clicks, I can't help but think about how lucky we are to have such amazing children and a loving, supportive family.

"Alright, let's go celebrate!" Jude announces, lifting Julian onto his shoulders. And me taking Julia into my arms, planting a kiss onto her cheek then her forehead

"Yeah, ice cream for everyone!, Say goodbye to your grandparents and Uncle Jobe" I add, placing Julia back down then holding her hand

"Bye nana" Julia Says as she hugs her grandmother

"Goodbye my Darling, I'm so proud of you, and you as well Julian" Denise says as she hugs the both of them

We continue saying our goodbyes and walk them to their car and we start making way to our car as well

as we make our way out of the venue, hearts full and spirits high.

The evening is a perfect blend of pride, love, and celebration, and as we head to our favorite ice cream parlor, I know that this is a day we will cherish forever.

As we walk to the car, Jude spots another kid and nudges me. "Look at that kid's bowtie. It's bigger than his head."

I laugh, nudging him back. "Jude, be nice!"

"And that one," he whispers, nodding towards a girl with a massive hair bow. "Is she trying to take flight with that thing?"

"Stop it!" I giggle, trying to hold back my laughter.

"Alright, alright," he says, chuckling. "But you have to admit, this is entertaining."

"You're terrible," I say, still laughing. "But I love you anyway."

"I love you too," he replies, pulling me close and kissing my forehead. "Now, let's go get some ice cream."

We pile into the car, the kids chattering excitedly about their awards in the backseat. Jude starts the engine and we head to our favorite ice cream parlor, the mood in the car light and joyful.

As we arrive and park, Jude turns to me with a playful smile. "You know, I was just thinking..."

"Uh-oh, should I be worried?" I tease, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," he laughs. "But seriously, what if Julian and Julia go into comedy? They seem to have a knack for entertaining, just like their old man."

"Oh, really? So now you're a comedian?" I say, laughing.

"Well, I did make you laugh, didn't I?" he retorts, winking.

We all get out of the car and head into the parlor, the kids rushing ahead to choose their favorite flavors. Jude and I follow more slowly, holding hands and enjoying the moment.

As we enter the ice cream parlor, the sweet aroma of freshly baked waffles and scoops of ice cream fills the air. Julian and Julia rush towards the display of flavors, their eyes wide with anticipation.

"Mom, Dad, look at all the choices!" Julia exclaims, pointing excitedly.

"Yeah, Dad, they even have that weird green one you like," Julian adds with a grin.

Jude chuckles. "Hey, mint chocolate chip is a classic! Don't knock it till you've tried it."

I roll my eyes playfully. "You and your adventurous taste buds."

"Just trying to keep things interesting," he replies with a wink.

We join the kids at the counter, scanning the menu for our own favorites. Julian opts for a towering sundae while Julia goes for a colorful cone with sprinkles.

"I think I'll go for something simple today," I say, eyeing a scoop of strawberry cheesecake.

Jude nudges me. "Oh, come on, live a little! How about a triple scoop with all the works?"

I laugh. "I'll leave that to you, Mr. Mint Chocolate Chip."

As we wait for our treats, Jude leans closer to me, his voice low. "Did you see that kid's hair over there? It looks like a bird's nest."

I stifle a laugh. "Jude! Be nice."

"I'm just observing," he insists, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know I can't resist a good hairstyle critique."

"Well, keep your critiques to yourself," I tease, trying not to giggle too loudly.

Our ice cream arrives, and we settle into a cozy booth. Julian and Julia dive into their treats with gusto, their faces quickly turning into a sticky mess of smiles and satisfaction.

Jude leans back, savoring his mint chocolate chip. "You know, I have to hand it to them. These kids really know how to enjoy life's simple pleasures."

"Like ice cream," I add, licking a stray drip from my cone.

"Exactly," he says, nodding. "I mean, who needs fancy dinners when you've got a scoop of your favorite flavor?"

"Or a tower of sundaes," I reply, gesturing towards Julian's creation.

We watch our kids laugh and talk between messy bites, their joy infectious. It's moments like these that remind me why I fell in love with Jude—the way he finds humor in everyday moments and brings out the best in our family.

As we finish our ice cream, Jude leans over and whispers, "That kid over there looks like he's trying to break the world record for fastest ice cream eater." He says eyeing the poor child that just seems to be really enjoying his ice cream

I burst out laughing, unable to contain myself. "Jude, stop, what's wrong with you today and making fun of kids!" I manage to say between giggles.

He grins mischievously. "What? I'm just stating the obvious, and it's not like I'm saying it to their faces, how will they know I'm talking about them ?"

"You're terrible," I say, shaking my head, still laughing.

He chuckles softly. "But you love me anyway, right?"

"Of course," I reply, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "Even when you're making fun of kids' hairstyles."

He squeezes my hand back, his eyes warm with affection. "I love you too, always."

We sit together in comfortable silence, watching our children and soaking in the happiness of this simple, perfect moment. As we prepare to leave, Jude leans over once more.

"Ready to head home, or should we challenge the kids to a rematch in mini golf?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Let's save that for another day. Right now, I think we've had enough excitement for one evening."

"Fair enough," he says, rising from the booth. "But don't think I won't take you up on that challenge someday."

I smile, knowing that whatever adventures lie ahead, we'll face them together—as partners, parents, and best friends.

"I love that idea," I say, kissing him on the cheek. "It's perfect."

As we sit there, enjoying our ice cream and each other's company, I realize that moments like these are what life is all about—love, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.

Jude takes a spoon of his ice cream  and leans back, content. "This is the life," he says, smiling at me and the kids. "I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Me neither," I reply, squeezing his hand. "Me neither."

The evening winds down with more laughter, stories, and plans for the future. As we drive home, the kids eventually fall asleep in the backseat, clutching their awards.

Jude looks over at me and smiles. "We did good, didn't we?"

"We did great," I reply, feeling a warm glow of happiness. "Our little achievers."

We pull into the driveway, and Jude gently carries Julian inside while I take Julia. We tuck them into bed, kissing their foreheads and whispering words of love and pride.

Back in our bedroom, Jude wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. "Thank you for being my partner in this crazy, wonderful life," he says softly.

"Thank you for being mine," I reply, resting my head on his chest.

As we drift off to sleep, I can't help but feel incredibly grateful for this beautiful family we've built together—a family filled with love, humor, and endless possibilities.

[blackdollette]

girl im so high rn i need euronynous who go to church w a super innocent reader and he slowly corrupts her (cnc 😛) and she starts to believe he is god xx

-🎀

thank you for this!!

"you're my religion." | euronymous

religion. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart@imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35

female!reader x r!euronymous

word count: 622

contents: slightly smutty, public teasing, not proofread

“you ever been to a place like this before, sugar-tits?“

euronymous’ arm tightened around your waist as he picked you up out of the passenger seat of his van, setting you on the sidewalk as you two gazed up at the large, white church in front of you. 

you looked up at him, shaking your head as he started to walk you to the entrance. it was a bright sunday morning, bringing in nicely dressed people of all sorts to listen to this morning’s sermon. pastel-coloured, overly-modest dresses heavily contrasted the skintight mini dress that euronymous had you put on for the occasion, revealing just enough of your cleavage and hips to make you stand out.

euronymous, dressed in black jeans (not torn, shockingly) and a black button-up shirt that was tight enough to show a sculpted figure underneath with his hair done up in a tight bun, leaving two strands out, looked down at you, watching as you fiddled with the cross necklace that rested in the valley of your breasts. from a normal person’s perspective, you and him looked like two whores ready to turn the church into a brothel.

you had to admit, you never thought that oystein aarseth, terror incarnated and the lord of chaos, would be taking you to church. you had made the mistake of stepping into his record store, mindlessly looking through his inventory. but he viewed you as a piece of fresh meat, ready to be chewed and swallowed.

you felt two of his fingers inching underneath your dress, finally resting on your ass as you and him walked into the church. instantly, you felt the disapproving glares of almost everybody on the premises. just as embarrassment began to coil in your gut, euronymous sat down in a little pew at the very back of the church, pulling you down by your hips until you were perched on his lap, his thigh between your legs and making your dress slowly move up your hips. he was loving the view. he had gotten front-row seats to the show of his life.

“you comfy like this, angel?” he wrapped his arms around you from behind, making you lean back on him a little more. you nodded, thanking the heavens that you were out of the pastor’s view. 

you felt euronymous’ hot breath hitting your back as the people in the church stood, rising as the choir began to sing hymns. you could just barely hear him muttering how his music was much better than this. his leg had started to bounce ever so slightly underneath you, your breath starting to hitch as he massaged slow circles onto your waist.

you bit your lip, suppressing a noise but letting a little whimper slip through your teeth. euronymous let his fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass, shaking his head with disapproval. “oh c’mon, baby. look at you, already becoming such a mess. you can’t just blatantly sin in the church.” he spoke tauntingly like he was a greater being chastising you for your misdemeanors.

you felt your cheeks burning up, partially from embarrassment, mainly because of lust. how sinful. you gasped softly as he pressed his knee into your burning core, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper to you, just as the sermon began. “i want you to behave yourself until we get out of here, got it?” he brought his hand to your cleavage, twirling the cross around your neck between his fingers. you swallowed hard, muttering quietly. “yes, euro…”

he gripped you tightly, almost to the point of pain. “yes, who?” his quiet whisper was edged with the sharpness of a blade, making your heartbeat spike one last time. 

“yes, master.”

author's note: i did not write this with the intention of being blasphemous towards anyone's religion!

[poppy-metal]

it’s your birthday and you weren’t expecting your husband to do anything for you. he usually forgets and then buys you an expensive present weeks later, out of guilt, but tonight, he promised to take you out for dinner. after getting your makeup done professionally and dressing to the nines in a tight black dress and sleek black louboutins you head to the restaurant he told you to meet him at. after waiting for hours, you decide to go home where you find him pumping into a gorgeous woman, who you later on find out, is his secretary. you silently head to your walk in closet, pack your bags, and head to your range rover in the garage. with tears streaming down your cheeks, you call patrick after settling in a suite at a nearby five star hotel. wall street patrick immediately cancels his dinner meeting with a major potential client and speeds down the highway.

after arriving at the hotel, he finds your bare faced with your glasses on, wearing a silk nightgown and some fuzzy slippers. for a moment he’s taken aback. you always look so high maintenance and put together but to him this is the most beautiful you have ever looked – puffy eyes, pouty lips, wet lashes and all. you look up at him and beg him to hold you. he rushes to the couch you are seated on and lets you cry on his armani suit. he doesn’t care that you’re getting tears and snot on it. seeing you so comfortable and vulnerable around him makes his dick painfully hard. all he cares about is being there for you and probably ordering a hit on your soon to be ex husband tbh.

after you fall asleep on his chest he gently carries you to the bedroom, kissing your temple before tucking you in to sleep. you awaken from your short nap and ask him to sleep with you, it’s been so long since someone slept next to you, and he almost cums in his pants, the thought of you asking him to sleep with you consumes his mind, but after taking off his suit and washing up, he lays in bed with his undershirt and his boxers. he apologizes for not having any clothes with him because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scare you off but you jokingly reply “usually i sleep naked…you’re fine”. being in his boxers, it gets harder for him to hide his thick bulge.

it’s 2am in the morning and patrick startles awake. you’re talking in your sleep and he’s worried. you’re having a nightmare…or so he thinks. you’re whimpering and moaning and he thinks it’s so hot. poor baby hasn’t been fucked right in so long, the only action she gets is in her dreams. he giggles a little until he hears you moan his name. to him, it sounds like a choir of angels singing the most divine melody to ever exist. he ends up rushing to the bathroom and spitting into his hand to take care of his problem.

you wake up to shlick shlick sounds and groaning in the bathroom. could patrick be touching himself? he forgot to close the door all the way and you could peep into the bathroom through the crack. you probably shouldn’t, it would make you a bad friend, but ever since the first day you saw him, a part of you has wanted to sit on his cock and fuck yourself through an orgasm. you slowly walk towards the door and see him in the shower, sniffing the used panties you left in the bathroom while furiously stroking his giant veiny cock. it looks so scary with its angry red tip but your mouth starts watering. you rush back to bed feeling guilty for overstepping boundaries and for wanting to gag on your friend’s dick while rubbing your clit. patrick on the other hand, being a calculating master manipulator left the door open to make sure you would hear him and see him, hoping that he would have the same effect on you, that you have on him.

- alien anon

so I need to touch myself .

[rodolfoparras]

Imagine fucking the spot from every last hole of his and having your cum leak out of all his orifices 😫😫😫

Content warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, Spot X Top Male reader, sub spot, dom male reader, group sex (M/M/M/M), sensory deprivation, mild degradation, Power dynamic, non human anatomy (let’s say spot can’t feel a thing but likes to be used for sex)spot basically being a cum bucket, author does not care for grammar and spelling errors for once. Anon I know u didn’t say anything about group sex but I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this and churned this thing out in an hour and it’s a lot so brace yourself Also pls don’t consider this a proper Drabble this is just me rambling djdjd

Spot is down on all four, blindfolded and surrounded with people he doesn’t know.

He knows that because he can feel rough hands digging into every inch of his skin. He can hear a choir of heavy grunts and gasps mingle with the sound of skin slapping together. He can almost taste the cocks thrusting into him. He can even smell the scent of sex lingering in the air.

Some would feel scared to be rendered in such vulnerable position but Spot isn’t, matter of fact he had wanted to do this.

See once you and spot started getting intimate you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to fuck all of his holes and fill them up to the brim with cum but you couldn’t do that alone of course and would need help from some people.

So one day you had suggested the idea to him and he had easily agreed to do it.

You had given him a week to prepare, a week to back out if he needed it even but he never did instead he came with you to the decided location, only dressed in a simple black blindfold.

He hadn’t gotten much instructions other than to get down on all fours and use his safe word if he needed to.

So here he is, down on all four blindfolded and surrounded with people he doesn’t know.

He knows that you’re there as well, can hear your voice. He just doesn’t know if it’s your hand on his shoulder. All he knows it’s a rather demeaning grip, uncaring if they’re being gentle with him, only meant to sturdy the person in question as they’re trusting their cock into one of his holes.

He can feel another hand on him, blunt nails sinking into the supple skin of his ass as they thrust their cock into the spot just under his buttocks.

He can also feel fingers shoved into the hole on his face while someone’s thrusting a cock into the spot on his neck.

He should feel embarrassed. These unknown people are treating him as if he were nothing but a form full of holes where you could just shove your cock into it, cum and leave it gaping for more.

But for some reason he doesn’t feel embarrassed, instead he feels rather proud with how good of a job he’s doing right now.

See the group of people will each find a hole, and fuck into it until someone cums. Once someone does, they rotate to find another hole and when they find it, they do the process all over again til they manage to reach their goal.

So far they’ve rotated rather quickly, spot’s surprised that he isn’t filled to the brim right know because he can almost taste the bucket loads of cum at the back of his throat, can feel the many cocks at the very pit of his stomach but it takes a while until squelching sounds can be heard along with the sound of something dripping to the floor.

“Oh god looks like you made a mess,” he hears you say, false concern dripping from your tone.

And that’s when he realizes. You’ve actually managed to fill him up to the brim to the point where cum is leaking out of his holes and dripping to the floor.

And Spot is slightly embarrassed, doesn’t know what to say, just stays kneeling on all four, blindfolded and surrounded in puddles of cum.

“How about you clean it up for us, yeah?” He hears you speak again. There’s an echo of agreements, even some laughter can be heard.

He quickly snaps out of his embarrassment and scurries to do as he’s told. However before he can go any further someone’s pressing a boot clad foot against his shoulder, halting him from going any further.

“Only with your face Jonathan” he hears you say again, can almost see the smile on your face in his head.

“Of course sir” is all he says in response before he lowers his head to the ground.

[mamisfavmosher]

hear me out rhea x southern!reader. like reader is from DEEP in the south and rhea can’t understand her sometimes

hehehe i have some deep tennessee roots in me so i absolutely love this!

i just did some bullet points of certain sayings and scenarios i think would happen :))

sweetie from the south // rhea ripley x fem!reader

"you done started pissin' me off, Rhea. i swear we can't have anything nice in this house." you huffed as rhea broke yet another object, determined to prove her ultimate strength to you.

"lord help me"

"Rhea, god willing and the creek don't rise, I think you're gonna be WWE's biggest star yet!" you exclaimed, kissing her cheek. "What creek?" She asked, confused.

"there really ain't nothing to it, Rhea. I know you drank the last of my Kool-Aid!" "i needed something sweet and you put loads of sugar in there!" She defended herself.

"hurry up! I swear you're movin' slower than molasses over there!" you hollered at Rhea as she took her sweet time fixing her hair.

"babydoll, how much hairspray do you need?" rhea asked, walking up behind you. "you know what Dolly always says, the higher the hair the closer to God!" you smiled at her through the mirror and continued your never ending spritz of hairspray.

"oh my sweet heavens! Rhea!!" you clutched a hand over your chest as Rhea stumbled backstage with bruised ribs after Nia Jax's attack.

"well, butter me up and call me a biscuit, it is hot out here." you huffed, hands on your hips. Rhea admired you from behind, taking in the view of you in your bikini at the beach. "I'll butter you up, don't have to tell me twice. C'mere, baby." She said and pulled you to her, a cheeky grin on her face as she held up the sunscreen.

"It's just so frustrating, you know?" rhea ended her angry rant about some annoying person at work. "you're preachin to the choir, baby." you agreed with her rant casually.

"how long is the party gonna take?" Rhea asked, smugly observing your outfit as you fixed your makeup in the mirror. "Till the cows come home, probably." You shrugged, spritzing perfume on your neck. "Cows? You're bringing cows home?! Babe, maybe you shouldn't go-" Rhea looked alarmed as she quickly blocked the doorway. "I am not bringin' cows home, rhea! It's just an expression." you giggled.

"you're glowin', sugar! look at you! grinnin' like a possum eating' a sweet tater!" you hugged rhea as she came out of the bathroom in a pretty black dress. A strong look of confusion crossed her face, "a possum? i hope that's a compliment." She shrugged. "Well, you missed the rest of it! A possum eatin' a sweet tater! Means you look happy." you gave her a sweet smile and pecked her lips. "I'm always happy around you, babe."

"pretty as a peach, mami!" you commented on her appearance when she came out of the bedroom one day. "Pretty as a peach? What's that supposed to mean?" She chuckled. "Ya' know... you're lookin' prettier than a glob of butter meltin' on a stack of wheat cakes!" you exclaimed. "Babe... what?" Her face said it all. She was so confused. "It means you look dazzlin', sugar. Now, c'mon, let's go!"

i loved this, i could definitely do more at some point if anyone wanted it

[koolaidoverwriting]

GENERAL HEADCANONS

CHARACTERS: Ticci Toby, Lyra Rogers, Connie Rogers

This post follows their life before the incident, during it and after.

CW: Childhood Abuse, Bullying, Death

TOBIAS ERIN ROGERS

From the ages eight to fifteen, Toby was homeschooled. He was removed from school in the first place due to bullies, but he came back in the fall of his Sophomore year.

Toby's skin is sunkissed — freckles speckled everywhere.

He bit off all his fingernails. To prevent him from biting his fingers more, Connie gave him gloves.

Toby liked riding his bike around the neighbourhood with his sister.

Toby was protective of Lyra. He took most of the hits from their father, even when Lyra told him not to.

His favourite season is the summer. He loves watermelons, oranges, and cold drinks (especially lemonade).

He is a foodie. He'll try anything he sees, even if it doesn't look that appetising. His favourite food is waffles — especially waffles with caramel syrup.

He's not a good artist in the slightest, but he enjoys doodling on himself with pens and markers.

Toby goes by "Ticci Toby" as a way to reclaim it from his bullies and also to poke fun at them. The kid you made fun of years ago is now a serial killer. Fun how that works.

When the car crash happened, he was only sixteen years old. Lyra's death caused Toby to become less restrained and he stopped allowing people to walk over him.

Toby doesn't regret killing his father, but he does regret leaving his mother.

He received his cheek gash from the car crash. He had already bitten his cheek to a certain extent and the crash worsened it.

Toby can drive, but he prefers not to during the winter.

LYRA MEREDITH ROGERS

Lyra was three years older than Toby. Before the incident happened, she was starting college as a Marketing major.

She was a prep/y2k girly. She had a good eye for fashion and designed her own clothes in her free time.

When they were younger, Lyra would dress up Toby and do his makeup.

In highschool, Lyra took choir. She also did volleyball. Lyra was pretty and popular; she was a gifted honours kid. Despite this, she frequently argued with her mother over trivial things.

At times, she snuck out to go to places with her friends, asking Toby to cover for her.

Her favourite fruit was peaches. She had peach scented lotions and perfumes.

Lyra took a bunch of polaroid pictures. There was a scrapbook in her room filled with pictures of her, her family, and her friends.

She made attempts to reason with her parents about getting a divorce, but that only grew tensions in the family. Lyra knew more than she let on in front of Toby.

When Lyra's annoyed, she likes to leave the house. Usually drives around the streets.

During the car crash, Lyra was driving very fast. She was heated at the moment, distressed because she had fought with her parents prior to driving. Toby told her to slow down, but she didn't listen.

If Lyra hadn't died, she would work at a business firm and sell her fashion designs as a side job.

CONNIE PAULA ROGERS

Connie is a loving, yet strict mom. All her life, she's wanted to protect her children.

Her relationship with Frank (her husband), was tense ever since Lyra was born.

Seeing too much of herself in Lyra, Connie was especially hard on her. Once Toby came around, she grew softer — especially because Frank started drinking more.

Connie loves cats. The family had a black cat named "Molly" before Connie, Toby, and Lyra agreed the cat would be safer away from Frank.

She likes iced tea — the homemade kinds only. Also, she's somewhat of an almond mom and eats very healthy.

She tries to make the most of what she has with her family. But due to her depression, she can be quite moody and act out without much thought. Connie does make up for it, unlike her husband.

Her last interaction with Lyra was a heated argument between Lyra, Connie and Frank over their future. Lyra stormed out of the house with Toby. Connie, enraged, didn't chase after them.

Connie feels guilty about it. She wishes she could have told both of them that she loved them before they left.

When Frank dies and Toby disappears, Connie lives alone.

She gets into therapy, adopts a few cats, and tries to tough it out. Connie has a support group — her co-worker friends and kind neighbours.

Connie misses her children everyday and regularly checks the news for any signs of Toby out there.

!!! my first headcanon post on here! i really wanted to speak on the rogers family because i haven't done anything with them yet. frank is not included because he's frank and i hate him.

[moltengoldveins]

@clingyduoapologist made a really cool “what if DSMP were a stage play” post and basically the instant I saw it I was struck by the muse but I don’t want to just chain reblog the dang thing or make one huge reblog with all my thoughts so instead here are all my thoughts on this concept

i don’t think it’s a musical. I think the tone of the story doesn’t fit. But if it were, it would have a Lot of scenes of unsung dialogue, and that dialoge? Would be rhythmic poetry. It’s Shakespeare Appreciation Time baby.

i do however think there would be a live score and an orchestra. A lot of the music would need to be recorded but there’s at least be a few musicians.

different characters speak in different poetic styles at different times to communicate character and plot development.

to elaborate on that: Characters switch from loose ABBA or ABAB rhyme schemes and vaguely rhythmic meter when chatting back and forth to strict perfect iambic pentameter for tense scenes or political speeches.

Techno speaks exclusively in unrhyming dactylic hexameter, an extremely common poetic form for Greek and Latin poetry. It’s what the Iliad was written in. This has the interesting effect of making Techno sound, at first glance, unpoetic. His speech doesn’t rhyme, and doesn’t follow a common English rhythm scheme, so it wouldn’t immediately register as structured. However, dactylic hexameter is actually significantly harder to write in English than expected because of our syllable stress patterns. Speaking like that would be, objectively, a sign of extreme intelligence, but could easily be overlooked as coarse uncultured behavior.

Techno’s chorus - composed of audience members, background extras, and people (in safety harnesses) sitting in the theater rafters - speak largely in Greek and Classical Chinese, quoting sections of the Art of War and Homer’s work. The major exceptions to this are ‘Blood for the Blood god,’ ‘no,’ and ‘do it.’ They all wear a hat or some form of headband that has a glowing LED eye, hidden, but activated when they speak. The audience plants are all in dark clothes, and when the lights go down they don medical masks/sunglasses. Anything to obscure their faces.

The Chorus, a group of robed masked people who broke the fourth wall and often entered the audience, was a vital part of early Greek theatre. I am an intolerable nerd, and the thought of sitting in a dark theatre only to hear an low distorted voice beside you start to comment on the play as a whole choir of voices echo around you, then turning to see your seat neighbor is a masked person with a glowing red eye in your forehead? Literally incredible.

Dream is the only character dressed in even remotely modern clothes.

Dream is first seen as someone (again, in modern clothes) sneaking around backstage in a black hoodie: most of the audience probably assumes he’s a stagehand and not meant to be seen. Then, at some point, he moves from behind a set piece and enters the scene as an actual character, revealing his mask.

interestingly, this is really similar to what I believe is a bit of myth about why ninjas are dressed in all black in modern media. They wouldn’t have been irl, they would’ve dressed like civilians. But stagehands in Japanese theatre would dress in all-black, and were often completely visible onstage moving sets - it was common courtesy to ignore them. Then one day some playwright had the brilliant idea of having one of the stagehands enter the story as an assassin, and suddenly every actor in all-black was a threat. For the life of me I can’t remember where I read that but it’s a cool thought :D

Dream canonically can interact with set pieces, lighting, and curtains.

Dream actively directs lighting in scenes he is not in, sitting above the stage kicking his feet.

Dream is often used to hand off props to characters instead of having them pull them from a pocket and pretend they were pulled from their ‘inventory.’ This begins to get confusing when Dream is acknowledged later on as the he person giving, say, TNT to Wilbur, or wither skulls to Techno.

characters address the audience as ‘Chat,’ (English’s first fourth-person pronoun my beloved) almost constantly, especially for comedic purposes- most of their monologues are addressed directly to the audience as well. For Wilbur, it’s a sign of instability when he stops addressing ‘Chat’ and start addressing the sides or back of the stage.

philza enters from the lower audience, right by the stage, probably after pooping up from the orchestra pit and taking a reserved seat halfway through so no one sees the wings.

Tommy has by far the least structured or rhyming dialogue - if it weren’t for how carefully crafted it was it would sound like normal prose.

Tommy speaks to the audience by FAR the most. Wilbur only addresses them when soliloquizing. Techno barely addresses them at all: they address him. Ranboo speaks to the audience only when alone, and it’s usually phrased like he’s writing in his memory journal. Tommy speaks to the audience at first like a loud younger brother. As he gets older, it sounds more and more like a plea for help, a prayer for intervention that will never come. Exile is one long string of desperate begging aimed our way.

Tommy stops speaking to the audience so much after Doomsday. He starts again when Dream is imprisoned. He stops for good when he dies in there, beaten, alone.

Sam and the Warden are meant to be played by different actors, ideally siblings or fraternal twins. They wear identical stage makeup and costumes, but the difference is there. None of the characters acknowledge this.

the Stage would need to be absolutely massive and curve almost halfway around the central audience, largely because it should be able to be split at times into two separate stages to show different things happening at the same time. This could possibly also work if there were two stages, but getting people to easily turn from one stage to the other without loosing sight of what was happening would be rough.

Doomsday taking advantage of the scaffolding in the rafters and using them as the ‘grid’ for the tnt droppers.

actual trained dogs for Doomsday my beloved. Would cost a fortune but could you imagine.

the entire revolution arc ripped off Hamilton, we all know that, I think we can afford to have a stagehand step forward in that frozen moment in time when Tommy and Dream have that duel, grab the arrow, and carry it slowly across the stage right into Tommy’s eye. For morale.

throughout the execution scene Techno keeps slipping out of poetic meter, especially when he sees/is worried about Phil. After the totem (which would be freaking amazing as some sort of stage effect with like lights and red and green streamers or smthn dude-) he stops speaking in poetry. The scene with Quackity is entirely spoken dialogue. Chat is silent. It’s only when he gets back and sees evidence that his house has been tampered with that Chat starts up again (kill, blood, death, hunt, hunt, hunt-) and he starts speaking in rhythm again.

Every canon death, Dream marks a tally on something in the background. Maybe it’s in his arm? Like a personal scorecard. Or maybe it’s on the person themselves, a little set of three hearts he marks through with a dry-erase marker or something.

phil and techno have a lot more eastern design elements and musical influences than the rest of the cast, except for Techno’s war theme which is just choir, bagpipes, and some sort of rhythmic ticking or thumping. Phil’s also got a choir sting but it’s a lot harsher, the ladies are higher and them men lower, and the chords are really dissonant (think murder of crows)

Tommy’s theme has a lot of drums, but its core is actually a piano melody. The inverse of Tommy’s theme is Tubbo’s, but Tubbo’s is usually played on a ukulele. Wilbur is guitar, obv, and Niki’s is on viola.

Quackity is a little saxophone lick. He and Schlatt both have a strong big band/jazz influence.

None of the instruments that play dream’s theme play anywhere else in the music. I’m thinking harp, music box, and some kind of low wind instrument.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Destined Dreams of Love: Prologue

Summary: As no stranger to arranged marriages, your parents excitedly marry you off to the king at his request. He is contradictory, cold yet caring, strict yet liberating, it's all too much! He could never love another for reasons you do not understand either, didn't he just meet you? Perhaps in time, you can learn to love him, too.

Warnings: ~1.3k words. Arranged marriage trope, slow burn, alternate universe, eventual smut, miscommunication, general palace drama, no i don't know the rules of royalty, ANGST (It's my specialty)

Tag list is open, just let me know!

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Everything was too much.

Too much fuss, too much noise, too many smells, too many textures. Your mother stands beside you as she fluffs the veil one last time and smoothes your silken dress. The corset you wore was bone-crushing, making the already anxiety-ridden day even harder to breathe. With sweaty, shaking palms, you grab the bouquet of flowers, gripping onto the fragile stems tightly as your only saving grace. 

Your mother moves the veil over your face a few moments before the large doors open. She cups at your face through the see through fabric and looks at you with teary eyes. 

“Oh, my own daughter. Married off to the king at his request,” She gushes with love. “Now, make sure you make him happy, bring honor to our family.” Her last bit of wisdom falls from her lips. 

You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes at her words. You’re no stranger to arranged marriages, it’s quite the normal in the higher social circles that you find yourself in. Your birth was that of an arranged marriage, after all. You are, however, a stranger to King Morpheus. 

That is to say, you have seen his portrait several times, and you would be lying if you were to say he is not of good breeding. He always eluded a sense of authority, even through the layers of paint. Perhaps it was the way he held his head, or his posture, or how lean and muscular shoulders meet slim waists. But then you’d be rambling - and a proper lady does not ramble, you can even hear your mother’s voice echoing the words. 

The music swells in muted harmony on the other side of the heavy doors and you hear the gregarious sound of people standing from the pews as the door slowly opens. Your mother leaves you side and it would be the last time you will feel her comforting arms around you. It takes everything in your willpower to not turn around and beg her to reconsider. But who would defy a king?

Your father stands on the other side of the doors and you walk a few paces to meet his awaiting arm. His face is as stern as always, only more groomed than normal. The crow feet and smile wrinkles are few, but some are discernable to you as you look at him one last time. You can recount each memory those wrinkles came from, few from joy. Perhaps today you will make him proud. To throw away your own dreams and desires for your family. 

He leads forward, your hand slotted to his arm, and your heart pounds louder than the choir. Each step you take, the closer you are to your future, to your soon to be husband. Each step another wish gets left behind in the vibrate but dying petals of fresh flowers. You will never know the warmth of your own bed again, nor the hearth that burns proudly in the drawing room where you like - liked - to spend your time, no more familiar faces to bother you. Your fingers will never dance across the same pianoforte’s glass keys, and they will never caress the old books in the library that talk about love. 

Your father lets go of your arm and you stand on wobbling legs to stare through thin fabric at the new outstretched hand. Pale skin is hidden by midnight black sleeves, trimmed with gold and flames. He wears a formal suit, an equally dark cape draped behind him that pools along the stairs like the night sky fell to the Earth at his feet. Your gloved hand takes his as he helps you up the last few steps. The choir stops, and it is just you and your heart against the world. You take a look at him, and the last of your breath is taken away. 

He’s somehow even more handsome in person, his portraits certainly didn’t lie about his facial structure. In fact, you believe his jawline to be stronger than the paintings. His eyes stare at yours through your veil, an enchanting mercury blue. Cold, but you think if you were to dig far enough, you would find warmth instead. 

A cough from the priest brings you back to the present and you jump slightly in your skin. His thumb runs a soothing finger over the back of your hand, but it somehow does the opposite. It makes him real, it makes the situation real. 

“Distinguished guests, esteemed family members, and honored participants, we gather here today to witness and solemnize the union between His Majesty, King Morpheus, and Lady (Y/N). In the tradition of arranged marriages, this ceremony represents the merging of two families…” The priest’s voice fades into a muddle, the monotone reading of the speech out of an old dusty book ornate with gold and jewels. 

You find your eyes wandering to anything you could see without moving. Yet they always returned to those cold mercury blue eyes. You knew nothing about this man, even the news articles the school boy brings every week never spoke of anything specific about the king. He wasn’t known to be the closest to his subjects, only ruling them from a six foot long pole. Would he be the same behind closed doors? Only calling you when he demands it? Or will he be something else, something different? 

All questions to be answered in due time, for sure, but is it wrong to ask now? Before you are tied to this man until your dying breath? 

“In the presence of witnesses and under the guidance of tradition, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.” The priest finishes. 

You blink when the speech is over. King Morpheus takes a step closer to you and you think your heart is going to jump out of your chest and plunge itself into the nearby sea. His hand leaves yours and slowly lifts the veil, a slight smile is apparent on his face. A blink and you would have thought you imagined it. The veil falls behind you and you are completely presented to your king, the flimsy fabric the last of your defenses. 

His warm breath tickles across your glossed lips before he pushes forward with a kiss. Soft lips meet your own, tasting of sweet wine and berries and leaves you dizzy. You always thought your first kiss would be that of romance, something you read in your many books. Where you had run off into the forest and stolen a kiss with a forbidden lover, shared only between the two of you and full of giggles and promises to run away together. How ironic it is instead with the strictest setting possible, witnessed by the entire court of his kingdom. 

His fingers find their way to your cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin. 

“I could never choose to love another,” He hums while he looks at you. It was hard to discern what kind of emotion he was showing as he didn't show any at all.

His declaration shocks you and yet… calms down all of your nerves and never ending questions at the same time. His voice was not what you had expected it to be. Somewhere in your head, you had convinced yourself that his voice would be harsh, cold, and rough like the oak trees that shaded the river. Instead you are lulled to him by his voice, it’s soft and deep. He speaks slowly with no rush in his tone at all. It’s a voice of seduction and authority, a voice that knows its importance and will be listened to. 

Your own voice finds itself as you respond. “Maybe one day, I’ll could learn to love you, too.” 

“I will wait, my dear.” He breathes out, yet he doesn't meet your eyes quite so.

“May I present His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen Consort.” The priest announces. The King drops your hands immediately as if you were made of hot iron and turns to the crowd, any sentiment the two of you shared, lost immediately.

Cheers erupt around you, flowers following their excitement as the marriage is sealed in golden ink.

☾ ✴ ๋࣭ ⭑․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․

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