#one time i had to walk the choir kids to the church and they were literally singing all the way there like Lotf

[maybethereisabeast]

was I the only one who had to look up what C sharp sounded like when i first read lotf?

[moncharrow]

𓆩⚝˚‧no room for the holy spirit ♱꙳˚₊‧

a/n: finally it's here! been screaming into the void abt this one for... ever. a thousand thank yous to @thirsting-over-women who proofread this for me :>> my savior actually. if the religious themes offend you (whether you are religious or have trauma) i encourage you not to read, maybe check out my other works instead :D

content/warnings: 4,500 words, preachers daughter!ellie x fem!reader, nsfw, reader wears a skirt, semipublic/car sex, fingering, oral (r receiving), reader's first wlw experience, sexual awakening?, religious motif, christian themes, mild religious guilt throughout, mentions of religious homophobia, internalized homophobia, ellie smokes a lil, she's a bit mean, fuckin in a church parking lot

The pressures of being a teenage girl were hard enough without the pressures of being a gay teenage girl. Being a gay teenage girl was hard enough without the pressures of being the daughter of a fucking preacher. Ellie had never really bought into the whole 'organized religion' thing, ever the skeptic. Even as a puny 8-year-old, she asked why she had to wake up early every Sunday for something she didn't even like doing. Her attitude didn't change much after that, but her parents got stricter and stricter in an attempt to control her sacrilege. She didn't spend much time with her family, instead seeking familial bonds at school, especially with her mechanics teacher, Mr. Miller. But, you know what they say:

Strict parents raise sneaky children.

And it's true. If Ellie's dad knew what she was doing outside the holy walls of the ministry, he'd have an aneurysm and have her exorcised. But, she always thought, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

You were the opposite. Raised the same as Ellie, you took to religion and fully participated, though mostly out of obligation. Just go every week for an hour and your family will leave you alone. This tactic, for the most part, worked. Your traditional family had their rough moments, specifically when they mocked the outfits you'd wanted to wear to service and called you some... unsavory names. But if you could avoid any similar incident, any clash with authority, you were taking the holy road.

On the outside, you were the purest of people. There was never a bad or dirty thought in your mind. You were a pillar of the community, someone that parents pointed out to their kids. "Be like them," they'd say. Your parents were proud, so you should've been proud. Should've.

You and Ellie had grown up quite close due to being in similar social groups and seeing each other every week at service. Since then, you'd grown apart as you took different paths in life, though you still felt a sense of commitment toward her; So when she cursed out her father in front of the clergy, your eyes widened.

"You fucking dick! You don't know shit about anything! You use all this- this... bullshit- as a crutch so you don't have to own up to your own baggage!"

As she stormed out, you silently move from your spot in the choir, doe eyes shining in the bath of stained glass light, and shuffle up to the front of the room.

"Father, if I may, I would like to go check on your daughter." You're a model fixture, a saint.

"Of course, my child. I hope someday she'll be more like you. I pray that-" You shuffle off again, not wanting to hear about how he wishes his daughter was different. He really wishes his child hid who she was, you think bitterly. You admired Ellie's rebellion, though you'd never say it, and you wished you were as strong as her.

You walk away from the church to the little park you and Ellie used to go to. Your memories flood with nostalgia for simpler times, and you smile to yourself, pleasantly strolling through the large trees and foliage and looking for the rough girl. You find her crouching against a tree, squatting with her head between her legs.

Is she crying?

"... Ellie? Are you alright?" You whisper, not wanting to startle her.

You notice Ellie tense up before quickly standing up and whipping around to face you, a hand behind her back. "Oh! It's... you. Hey. Aren't you s'posed to be inside?"

"Yeah, but I just wanted to check on you. That was intense in there."

"Mhm, I'm good. Just needed some, ah, fresh air. Y'know?" She sounds a little too jolly, weirdly chipper. It's suspicious.

"Uh-huh," you say, unconvinced. "Whatcha got there?" You point to whatever she's trying to conceal.

She knows she's been caught. Her attitude suddenly shifts from faux-innocence to her usual snarky persona as she rolls her eyes, leaning against the tree and revealing what she had. She brings her hand up to her lips. "Nothing."

"Ellie!" You shriek. "You can't do that! Where'd you even get a cigarette?"

She laughs as if you'd said the funniest thing imaginable. "You think this is a cigarette? Are you stupid? No offense. But are you stupid?"

You scoff. "No! I mean, you're smoking it. What else am I supposed to guess?"

"A blunt, idiot. Kush. Mary Jane. Weed. Ma-ri-jua-na." She spells out for you like you're a toddler.

You cross your arms defensively. "Okay, I know what weed is, smart guy. You still shouldn't have it. Where's it from?"

"Stole it. I just wanted to see why people liked it so much. They say it relieves stress, and I think yes." Ellie grins lazily, eyes lidded. "I got another. You want?"

The answer to your question only makes you freak out more. "No! And you stole?! You stole? Oh my goodness, Ellie, you're gonna get us thrown in jail or something!"

Ellie wordlessly watches your breakdown, eyes red and amused, the corner of her mouth turned up. "Relax, man, it's barely illegal. Who's calling the cops for a single gram? Don't be lame like that."

"Lame?" You scoff. "Are you a first grader? Ellie, it's against the law, you could go to prison. And it's not juvie anymore, you're gonna go to real jail!" Your hands flail around wildly as you explain the repercussions of her actions.

"Jail..." She rolls her eyes.

"Yes, jail! That's kinda what happens when you steal something, Ellie!" The high-pitched, prissy tone with which you said her name was starting to annoy her, but the way you looked when flustered was intriguing. Maybe in another context, she'd enjoy hearing her name fall from your lips.

Ellie takes another hit, looking up at you. She tilts her head, asking if you're being serious. "Jail? Over a single blunt? Who cares that much?"

You gasp when you realize: "I'm an accomplice!"

"You're not an accessory just because you're here." She chuckles as the wind blows past and carries her smoke near your head as you duck dramatically and swat away the smoke. She looks at you for a moment, slightly smiling. Her green eyes meet yours briefly before turning her attention back to the joint.

"Why are you using it anyway? It smells rancid."

"Already told you. I wanna know why people do it. It relieves stress and I'm plenty stressed. Plus, I look dope as shit with it, right?" Ellie leans against the tree, and a small part of you wants to say yeah, you do. "You should try it. Maybe get that stick out of your ass."

"You're gonna get addicted."

"God, it's just this once. What are you gonna do, tell my dad?" She chuckles to herself, taking a long drag.

She checks you out, head to toe, examining the flowy fabrics and neat hair and the Mary Jane shoes that drive her crazy. Who wears those? Her gaze returns to meet yours, and she looks utterly dumbfounded by you. Your eyebrows furrow as you see how her expression changes. "What's that look for?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "I dunno. You're just so robotic. It's like you never think about stepping the teensiest bit out of line. It's creepy. You've never had an independent thought in your life. Have you ever done anything even remotely rebellious?"

You make a noise that seems to say Well why would I? "No! Of course not! And you shouldn't either, I mean look at your dad, he's-"

Her voice raises, a tone you've never heard and don't care to hear again. "-My father? You mean the preacher?" She mocks. "What about him? You don't know anything about my father." Ellie's look hardens, eyes steely and mouth pursed into a thin line. It's a look you've seen maybe twice before, both in much more tense situations. Her voice says that you can't change her mind. You don't care to try. Whatever she's referencing, you believe her.

"Okay. Okay... sorry." You say gently, losing the defensive energy you'd held a moment ago. Ellie sighs and takes an irritated puff. To relax, you think.

"And you always apologize. It's so weird. You need to loosen up a bit." Another long, somehow sarcastic hit. "What's the worst thing you've *ever* done?"

An embarrassing, very private thought crosses your mind. You obviously can't tell her what you think about at night- you're barely able to admit to yourself that you have such impure thoughts. Instead, you shake your head. "Can't- I can't think of anything."

You watch her forest green eyes roll up, then down. It's a very familiar expression on her. "Thought so." She grins up at you, and you look away into the treeline nervously. "Do you wanna try something fun?"

"Is it... illegal?"

"No. Don't worry about that." She motions for you to come closer, so you take a tentative step forward, eyeing her like a wild animal. She hates the way you look at her, making her feel alien. Just because she lives authentically. It makes her want to ruin you, to have you stoop down to her level. Then maybe you won't look at her as if she were extraterrestrial.

You need an attitude adjustment, you need to chill the fuck out, you needed to get fucked, and hard. Ellie thinks she can help you with that.

She grins that toothy smirk as she watches you step closer, taking a puff and placing the blunt between her slender fingers. She doesn't miss the way your eyes trail the two long fingers that hold it. You wonder if she's doing this on purpose.

Ellie backs you up against a tree, and you recognize it as the same old oak that you would climb with her as kids. The branches and bark have left scars on you that Ellie helped you heal. She wonders how they look now.

Your back hits the trunk with an unceremonious thump, and you startle. Ellie keeps walking toward you, now getting uncomfortably close. "Uh- so what are we..." You trail off, thinking she'll explain what she's doing right in your face. She doesn't.

Her arm raises, trapping you between the tree and her body as she studies you. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin, but feels incredibly electric at the same time- it's a sensation you've only felt around her, though you don't know why. She takes another hit and you nervously look away.

She tilts your jaw back to look at her. You have to face her pretty green eyes, unwavering as she stares you down, while you sneak glances just to check if she's still there. Your breath speeds up when she leans closer.

Ellie puts her stupid pink slightly chapped adorable smiling lips near the base of your neck.

"What are you doing?" You say breathlessly. You swear that you feel her ghosting over your skin, so close, yet not as close as you want her. Maybe if you lean in...

Before you can, she breathes out her smoke, lightly trailing her lips down your neck. Her tongue comes out to prod at the skin, tasting you. You whine. The smoke envelops the two of you, and your nose crinkles at the foul smell. You look down to chastise her but she's already looking at you with those eyes and that cheeky look. No matter what you say next to defend yourself, you know you're caught, that Ellie knows she's affected you. It's in your eyes, the way you've seized up so tightly, how you look at her like you can't wait to see what she does next.

She presses a chaste kiss on your collarbone and you crane your neck upward. You're not sure if you're trying to get away or if you're giving her more access. She pulls away and you find yourself leaning forward to try to get her back on you.

"Is that the most rebellious thing you've ever done?" She chuckles, taking another drag and blowing it over you, bathing you in the white haze. "You like being treated like that, huh?"

You shiver. "I don't get it," you say dumbly. You've never been this confused.

"What don't you get? I just think it's fun to make you squirm." She thinks you've had enough and blows her next exhale away from you. "I wanna corrupt you, sweetheart." It sounds derogatory coming from her but you find that you don't mind the tone. The spot Ellie had made contact with feels as if it's burning. You crave for that feeling all over your body.

You stammer over your words, pathetically unable to spit out any sort of coherent reaction to her. Any reaction would be better to tripping over your words. Fed up with trying to sound like a person, you decide to stop talking.

"You enjoyed that huh? Admit it." She inhales and repeats her action. "Makes you feel hot inside."

"What? No- no, are you insane?" The sane part of you is telling you that you shouldn't be doing this, especially not with Ellie fucking Williams of all people. She's everything you aren't- she's rude and snarky and devilish... and tall and strong and hot. Oh shit! The batshit insane part of you is slowly melting the angel on your shoulder, and you can basically see the little devil cackling as you feel yourself straying further from the good girl persona you'd cultivated. You feel your heartbeat in your pants.

Ellie begins to kiss down your neck, sucking and licking at your jaw and collarbone. This time, you're acutely aware that you're actively giving her access to do as she pleases with you. "Maybe I'm insane, but I can tell. You did like it. And if you deny, I'll do it again until you tell the truth."

"Well I didn't, so you can forget about-"

She places her thumb on your lower lip as you start your tirade, effectively shutting you up. "Too late." Ellie leans in and before you know it, her lips are on yours. Her arm snakes around the back of your waist and pulls you as close to her as you've ever been. That warm feeling flushes down your body, leaving chills across your skin. More. All you can think is that you want more. Your hands come up to grip her shoulders, you almost want to push her away, but you find yourself pulling her closer and closer. No room for the Holy Spirit.

Ellie pulls away, smugly looking down at you. "Told you you liked it."

"I didn't say that." You were being a contrarian on purpose at this point. Anything to keep Ellie treating you like this- you wanted to prolong this moment for however long you could. She hoists you up, bringing you out of the park and into the back of the parking lot. She throws you into the backseat of her beaten pickup and crawls atop you with darkened eyes.

You squeal in surprise. "El-lie!"

She continues to kiss you, making you wetter by the second. The heat pooling in your panties is so fucking embarrassing, but you find that you don't care how humiliating this is. You just want more.

"Els, what if someone sees?"

She scoffs as if the idea is preposterous; as if the prospect of getting caught is impossible. "Nobody can see us, and they won't leave until later. Don't stress about it." Ellie bites her lip and it makes your body get hot flushes. "I can do whatever I want to you. But you know what? I think you'd let me. Is that right?"

"...Maybe." Read: Yes, yes, anything! She leans down, placing her hand on the back of your neck and pulling your head closer up towards her. Her hand forces your legs apart further to allow her access. The way she lays on your inner thighs, atop your clothed core, makes you feel lightheaded. You love the way she manhandles you, and it's exactly how you thought she'd be. Every time she adjusts her position, your clit rubs against her and sends jolts of electricity up your body.

"I knew it. You're not as perfect as you try to be. You're dirty."

You want to deny it, you really do, but the evidence is clear. You're disheveled under her, lips swollen from hers, and she's pulling your panties to your ankles and shoving them in her jacket pocket, yet you're ashamed to say that you don't feel an ounce of guilt over it.

Despite how excited you are for whatever is about to happen, you're still incredibly nervous. This is the most physically vulnerable you've ever been with another person, and the fact that you're completely bare under your skirt makes your stomach flip.

Your face must betray your emotions because Ellie momentarily softens. She pulls her hands away from your hips and cups your face, peppering kisses across your cheeks and up to your forehead, making you laugh lightly. "You alright? We can stop."

"No... please don't." Her face lights up.

"Sorry, say that again?" You roll your eyes and she chuckles. "I knew you were like this. Not so pure now, huh?"

"Guess not."

"So you admit it?"

"...Fine. Yes."

Ellie sighs in relief as if her thirst were quenched- that's what she's been wanting to hear from you forever. She could see it in the way you snuck glances at her during mass, finding your wandering, hungry eyes from across the room. She could feel it in the way your hand lingered on her a little too long to be friendly, your touch suspiciously light, like if you touched her any harder you'd start to tremor.

But now, there's no semblance of the timid person you'd been. When Ellie pulls away, your hand comes up to the back of her neck to pull her back in. You're insatiable, and Ellie fucking loves it. She tugs at the bottom of your sweater. "Pull that fucking thing off. Show me those pretty tits." Her breath becomes heavy as you oblige and become needier. "Did you know you were this easy?" She teases.

"What? I'm- I'm not." Everything she says feels designed to evoke the biggest reaction from you. She keeps you on your toes, never letting you get too comfortable. How exciting.

"So it's just for me then?" You don't answer, and it excites Ellie to know that she's right. This reaction is purely for her. Nobody else has seen you like this, and she's grateful to be the one who gets to corrupt you. It really didn't take much effort. "You're so easy to control."

Her hands drift back to your thighs, sliding under your skirt, her lips press to your jawline. Hot breath trails along your neck, down further to your collarbone. Her fingers slide over your inner thighs, sensitive skin rippling as she applies light pressure, testing how reactive you are. You twitch, unwittingly opening your legs more and giving Ellie more access. "You look good like this, though."

Ellie's fingers dig into you, grasping the flesh of your ass and moaning softly into your ear. Her thumbs are on either side of where you desperately need her, and your hips buck up into her, seeking her touch. "Knew you had a nice ass, too."

"Shut up." You mumble.

"Why would I? You like it when I say things like that, don't you? You wouldn't be this drenched if you didn't." She swipes the pad of her thumb over your clit and applies delicious pressure. You nearly cum on the spot.

Is this what you've been missing? This pleasure, this euphoria? Ellie grins at your reaction, drinking in your desperation for her like a succubus. "Aw, sensitive little pussy. Haven't you touched yourself like this before?"

You had, a few times, actually, but it never went this far, deep-rooted guilt gnashing in your stomach and ending the moment before you'd been able to finish. After admitting this, she coos at you. "Poor baby." Her tone is so condescending, but it makes you clench around the tip of her fingers.

She slides the first knuckle of two fingers past your entrance, pumping them in and out painfully slowly. "Ellie, you prick. Come on." She continues her ministrations, gently stroking your entrance, never giving you enough to feel remotely satisfied. She uses this time to take in your disheveled, sweaty appearance. Your cute tits bounce as you shift uncomfortably, waiting for Ellie to please you. A bead of sweat rolls down and she can't help but bring her mouth up to lick at it as it slides over your nipple. Her mouth attaches to you and you sigh, holding her closer by her hair. She grins up at you, making eye contact through her lashes. You can see the tip of her tongue poking out, wetting your bud as the cool air nips at you, making you all the more sensitive. Even now, Ellie still hasn't stopped her teasing below.

"Can't call me a prick then beg for me to fuck you. 's not how it works, pretty girl."

"Then what do you want?" You whine.

Ellie can feel your clit flutter and pulse as she moves. "Fuck, you're so desperate for me, aren't you? I want you to tell me how bad y' want me."

"I- I d-" You begin to protest, being cut off with a squeal as Ellie licks a sloppy stripe up your pussy, finally tasting you.

"Don't bullshit me. If I'm gonna fuck you, I needja to be a little more honest with me. I see how you look at me. You been trying to push some thoughts down, huh?"

It was so humiliating how well she could read you. Whenever her tongue came out of her mouth to take communion, your eyes would be trained on the muscle, breath hitching as she would wink at you. Without fail, you would trail your gaze up her body when Ellie walked in with a suit, her way of dressing nicely for service. Always, always, she could feel the heat radiating off your body as she pulled you closer, not taking her eyes off the pastor speaking.

Your thoughts were impure, sinful, and how embarrassing that Ellie knew. You believed you were hiding it well- obviously not.

"Yeah. Maybe."

Ellie's big hands wrap around your thighs, fingers landing on the sensitive skin near your pussy. She looks up at you and you can feel her hot breath on your clit. It takes everything in Ellie to not eat you out immediately, but your embarrassment is too tempting to pass up.

"Tell me about it. You try to fuck yourself thinkin' of me?"

"I do. I- I tried to, at least. Doesn't work."

"Why not, babe? You're so responsive right now." Her fingers find their place back at your entrance, pushing in as you speak.

"I- oh, shit-" You gasp.

Ellie grins. "Talk to me."

"My fingers aren't good enough."

"Ah," she says, "and mine are?" She knows the answer.

"So good."

Ellie likes that she's made you desperate enough that you've abandoned your pride. She enjoys the flush on your face as you shamelessly admit your secrets to her, the good-girl persona a figment of the past.

She's so busy staring up at how your face contorts in pleasure that she doesn't realize that she hasn't moved her fingers in a hot minute. The teasing is torturous for you.

"Ellie," she hears you whine, "Please!" You rut your hips against her fingers and she feels lightheaded. Jesus fucking Christ.

"Sorry, pretty girl. Got distracted." She smirks. "I'll give you what you want now." Ellie finally moves her fingers, curling them in and out slowly. You groan again and she laughs. "Okay, okay! Sorry." Her face darkens and she bites her lip. "You want me to fuck you? Alright, I'll fuck you."

Ellie's fingers begin to pump inside you, hitting all the spots that make you jump and squirm, and you're sure the rusted heap of a car you're in is about to fall off its chassis. She's going so fast and hard that you're immediately overwhelmed and you don't know where to put your hands. In the span of a minute, they cup your face, a forearm slings over your eyes, and you throw your arms up against the window. Finally, you settle on cupping your cheeks, fingers slit open so you can peer down at Ellie's focus on you.

Her eyes haven't left your pussy since she started. She's absolutely mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, how you seem to suck her fingers back in as she tries to pull out and your body betrays how desperately you want her. Ellie's mouth is slightly agape and she can't help when her tongue flickers out to lick curiously at your clit, wanting to taste you again.

"Fu- fuck!" You yelp, bucking your hips up into her face. Ellie snorts as she watches how you squirm. You can feel something building and though you have an idea of what it is, it's building fast and slightly scaring you. "Wait, Els, hold on a second, something- ah- I think- I think I'm-"

You're nervous about how it creeps up on you so suddenly but you find there isn't time to be self-conscious about it because you cum, and you wonder why God could possibly think that doing this is a sin. How could it be a sin if it felt so right?

You don't know what sound you made or how your face looks, but by the way Ellie looks up at you, it must've been something. Her eyes flicker back down to how your clit pulses as you finish, leaking cum onto her fingers and trailing down her hand. You know what she's fucking thinking because you always do. Before you can form a sentence, she's licking up your cum like it's the best meal she's tasted.

You shudder violently. "Ellie, holy fuck, stop, I'm still sensitive! Oh m- Ellie, come on!" Only when you push her face up does she stop, giving you the cheekiest grin.

You roll your eyes and throw your head back against the car door, panting. The dull ache in your thighs is apparent when you attempt to sit, pulling your panties up and cringing at how your cum pools on them.

Ellie still hasn't said anything. You glance over at her, wondering how she feels about whatever just happened. She's looking down, grey hoodie still pulled up to her elbows, staring at the fingers she'd just fucked you with. She glances up at you, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. 

“That was hot.” Her hand rubs up and down your thigh, a kind of comfort you’d never received from her. It wasn’t unwelcome.

You don’t quite know how to feel. There are twinges of guilt gnawing at your stomach, that religious guilt creeping in. Had you done something wrong? 

But at the same time, there was a warmth in Ellie’s gaze that made you feel like maybe, it was all worth it. Was it unholy? Almost definitely. But this awakening couldn’t be all bad if she kept looking at you with those soft, fond eyes.

my masterlist...

[shadeysprings]

The Tears on Ivory

—Priest!Lee Bodecker x Church Pianist!F!Reader

Summary — The new priest of your church asks you to sing for him.

Warnings — noncon, public sex, face shot, religious references, and other dark themes. There may be more that I forgot so I ask that you read with caution.

A/N — Kindly blame @vellicore and @flordeamatista for such sexy sinful ideas. But I mean, who could even resist this belly daddy? Not me. No beta so may be sloppy.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

A sense of unease washes over you when you see Father Bodecker standing by the royal doors, bidding the last child and his parents goodbye. Choir practice just ended and you collect your music sheets from the stand of the piano, yet you do it with haste, not wanting to be alone with him in the great hall. But the sound of the wooden doors closing is just as loud as your beating heart.

“Leavin’ so soon, Sweetheart?” His voice echoes through the night air and you turn to face him, watching as he slowly walks up to you.

“It’s gettin’ late, Father.” You tell him with a smile, doing your best to hide the fear that begins to bloom in your core. “My daddy wouldn’t want me stayin’ out too long. Says it ain’t safe for a lady bein’ alone in the night.” You explain, hoping that the mention of your daddy would keep him at bay.

“But you’re in the house of God with your priest. Ain’t nowhere safer than here, right?” He’s closer now, intense blue eyes trained on you and the smirk he sends your way brings a chill up your spine. You look away, not wanting him to see your dread, and focus on the white tab tucked underneath the collar of his black shirt.

“I hear you singin’ with ‘em kids—such a lovely voice you have.” You take his compliment but keep your guard up as you cradle your purse in your arms, keeping the bench between the two of you. “I want to hear it again. One of ‘em hymns for tomorrow’s mass.”

“I’d love to, Father, but—”

“You know, disobeying the will of the priest is equivalent to disobeying the will of God.” Your hand trembles with how he says those words, swallowing thickly as you try to calm your nerves. “You wouldn’t want that, do you? To disobey the Lord?”

You shake your head.

“Good girl.” The praise makes you feel nothing but disgust. “Now, why don’t you get back in that chair and start playing?”

And just like that, you do as you are told; setting down your purse on the side of the piano and taking your seat once more. Your spine tenses and your hands shake upon setting them over the keys when he goes to stand behind you, feeling the excess of his stomach brushing against your arm.

Just play, you tell yourself, and you hope then when you do, when you’ve done what is being asked of you, that he will leave you alone.

Ever since Father Bodecker - Lee as he likes to be addressed - arrived in your quaint town as the new priest, things for you have never been the same. The sense of trepidation never once came across your mind when you were first within his presence, but it soon blossomed, quite strongly, in your opinion, when you saw the way he looked at you each time you stayed behind to practice the songs for the mass. 

How his hands would mindlessly touch you, innocently from the outside looking in, but you know to yourself that they’re beyond appropriate especially for a woman as yourself and even more for the man of God. His lips utter words of vulgarity, ones you know someone of his profession should never say.

But what had you fearing his presence was once, before Sunday mass, while you were practicing the psalms on the podium, you saw him enter from your periphery and stood behind you, too close for your liking. You thought he was simply curious about what you were reading but such thoughts ultimately vanished when he pressed his hands on the wooden surface of the stand and you felt something hard dig into your backside. 

You’d only ever escaped when one of the parish volunteers arrived earlier than expected and you heard the growl of disappointment that he emitted. Yet you know deep down that won’t be his last attempt, especially after seeing the determination in his sapphire eyes, a promise of a next time. 

As you reach the end of the song, you startled upon feeling his hands rest on your shoulders, his thumbs massaging your muscles and his warm breath scattering against your cheek.

“You play so beautifully, Sweetheart. Singin’ those praises like an angel.” He’s so close and you feel your heart pounding wildly against your chest, panic completely setting into your bones. “Why don’t you sing another praise—for me this time.”

“I’d love to, Father, but it is already getting late.” You tell him as you move to stand from your seat but his hands keep you firmly still and you gasp in shock when he leans you forward, pushing you against the keys that cry upon being pressed. “Father—what are you doing?” You ask frantically, eyes wide in fear as you struggle against his hold.

“I just want to hear that sweet voice of yours.” His voice is laced with darkness and your knees almost buckle when he pushes away the bench from underneath you, hand lifting the skirt of your dress. “I wonder what other sounds you can make, huh? I’m dyin’ to hear.”

You claw your fingers against the piano when you hear the sound of his zipper being undone, struggling much more to set yourself free. But you’re rendered helpless against a man his size, his feet pushing your own apart and a gasp wretches from your throat when in one swift move, he’s inside you—your walls stretching in pain from his girth.

Tears spill from your eyes as he moves his lips in a sadistic pace, each of his thrust sending you shivers of agony, making every second of his assault unbearable. His groans mix with the sound of ivory and your pleas for him to stop, Father Bodecker panting and mumbling a slew of curses when he continues to plunge, harder and faster, unrelenting of his sinful intent. 

You beg once more, your nails digging into your skin as you try to push him back, but such a gesture is futile—benefiting him further as it allows him to slide deeper into your core that begins to grow damp with each torturous second. 

He calls out your name in the flurry of notes, his hips moving erratically that you feel something foreign, something new, something forbidden pull at you from within. You grit your teeth and shut your eyes as you endure the sins he brandishes on your soul.

But all at once, he’s gone and you’re empty, the walls of your abused cunt clenching around nothing. A grunt is then pulled from your lips when you're effortlessly pushed onto your knees and you stare up at him in horror when he grabs the back of your head, keeping you in place.

That’s when you truly see the devil he truly is. He’s no man of God but a spawn of the underworld.

He groans once more, his cock stiff and throbbing in his hand as he strokes it once, twice, seeing his eyes shut tight with his face twisting in bliss and you’re shocked to your core when streaks of hot, white essence paint your face.  

Disbelief engulfs you, along with anger and shame—that he would do this to you and in the house of the Lord.

A dark laugh escapes him as he looks down on you, his hand cupping your cheek as he smears his seed on your face then tapping the tip of his cock against your lips.

“Blessed are you among women,” He quotes. “And blessed is the one who has shared the seed.”

[natashaslittlegirl]

Sweet Sin - WM

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI +18 ONLY.

Sweet Sin | Sweet Wanda | Sweet blood

Summary: Your dream university and the one to which you were admitted is Catholic, the last requirement is that you have to take communion. Being a non-believer girl you were going to give up, until you remembered one of your neighbors thay could help, Wanda Maximoff, head of the choir and catholic teacher in your town.

Catholic teacher ! Wanda Maximoff x Student ! Reader

Smut, dirty talk, oral sex (w receiving), vaginal fingering (w receiving), praise kink, hair pulling, finger sucking, semi-public sex, church sex, age gap (legal r).

Words Count: 1400+ 

Wattpad Masterlist Wanda Maximoff's Masterlist

·

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff, for agreeing to teach me," you said smiling at the woman in front of you. "I really appreciate it."

"It's okay sweetheart, it's never too late." She smiles back at you to start catechism class.

You didn't like the church, or God, or anything that has to do with religion, but the university of your dreams was Catholic, so you swallowed your pride and started with communion to be able to enter.

Your neighbor, Miss Maximoff, was very sweet to you, letting you into the church for private lessons, she couldn't put you in the class with the nine and ten year olds kids, it would be torture.

So that's what your summer Saturdays were going to be like, three hours in church between Wanda's classes, and then the one-hour mass.

Sometimes you stayed a little longer than you should, helping your neighbor tidy up the rooms and the church. It is the least you could do since she was helping you fulfill your dream.

Not only that, you also had a little crush on her. The woman was beautiful, but she was unfortunately married to a disgusting man and she had two children, she was also extremely devoted to God, which if she found out that you are a lesbian she would probably pass out.

This Sunday the church had a charity event, a food fair with the whole town participating so that the money raised goes to the orphanage.

Wanda requested your help to prepare the salon for the event, which was behind the church, so here you were carrying chairs from the church storage room to the salon.

You spent all morning carrying and bringing things, your arms were already tired from so much effort, but it was worth it, since seeing the beautiful woman who gave you private lessons, in a black dress that fits perfectly fine her figure was worth all your time.

"Honey, can you help me bring some boxes from the storage room? I've already put the food on the tables, just need the decorations." She asked you smiling to which you nodded and walked next to her.

"My arms just hurt a bit, is it heavy what we have to carry, Wanda?" She tortured you into calling her by her name, you that calling her by her last name so formally made her feel old, even though you assured her she wasn't.

What you didn't know was that she didn't want you to call her that because of how much it turned her on, having that little authority over you.

"Oh, swettie, why didn't you tell me you were tired?" She stopped before entering the deposit, putting one of her hands on your cheek, caressing it.

"Because I'm okay, Miss Maximoff, I can go on" you smiled assuring her not to worry. A devilish grin formed on her face at hearing her name.

"You were a very good girl for me all morning honey, helping me so well, I think you deserve a reward don't you?" The smirk on her face got you, nodding as fast as you could. "Come with me, baby."

She opened the door, entering the room and closing the door right after you passed, leading you by the hand to where the organ was, the one that played every time the choir sang. Wanda positioned herself on top of it, putting you between her legs.

"Do you want your reward, sweetheart?" Her hand still grabbing yours, you gave it a squeeze as you nodded. She released you to start pulling her dress up, leaving it coiled to her hips, your lips parting at the revealing of her bare wet pussy, glistening with the little sunlight coming through a window.

Your mouth watered, there she was, legs spread, almost dripping in front of you. You sighed at the thought of tasting her, your hands went to her thighs, caressing them.

"Come on, take it, honey." she encouraged you and you fell to your knees to the ground, without taking your eyes off hers, now dark green, full of lust and desire.

You didn't waste another second and brought your face closer to your neighbor's pussy, the most devoted woman to God in the whole town was now exposed and wet at your disposal. And you were totally ready to sin.

Your tongue curled over her clit, causing her hands to go to your hair at the first lick, making you moan at the sweet taste of her.

If this was like eating the forbidden fruit, you'll sin every day for her, the most delicious and sweet sin you tasted in your entire life.

"Mhm yes, so good, dear." Wanda was trying not to moan so loudly, as even the little sounds echoed in the giant room, but you didn't care, you wanted her to scream until there was no air left in her lungs.

Your tongue ran up and down her wet folds, alternating between her entrance and her clit, her hand still in your hair, pulling you closer, if that was possible.

You plunged a finger into her without warning, stealing a loud deep moan from her throat, causing her to bring her own hand to her mouth to muffle the sounds coming from her.

You started slow, making her growl in desperation, bucking her hips against your face, another finger entered her, now two were working on her entrance while your tongue was on her clit, licking and sucking it.

Wanda's legs began to shake, squeezing your head, curling your fingers inside her, touching her g-spot, she felt in heaven.

You looked up, seeing how she had her head thrown back, one of her hands still covering her mouth, her brows knitted together and her chest heaving sharply for air.

"Don't stop honey, I'm so close, oh you're so good at this."

You doubled your efforts, even though you were already tired, but all of that vanished with the moans that Wanda let out of her lips.

"Oh fucking god, I-I'm gonna cum." and you stopped, suddenly you stopped and she looked down at you, with her eyes wide open and furrowed brows, not understanding what happened.

"That's not my name." and then she realized.

"Come on, Y/N, don't fuck with me now" a smirk formed on your face, her deep and agitated tone of voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way your name left her lips sent a wave of wetness to your core.

"I am fucking you now, Miss Maximoff." She growled at her name, grabbing your hair to pull it hard, making you groan at the tight grip.

"Don't be a brat now and make me cum, or you're gonna regret this." Her voice loaded with authority was all it took to start moving your fingers again, fast and hard, curling them while your tongue sucked on her already swollen clit.

Wanda came undone moaning your name, falling from her lips like every Sunday prayer. Getting you soaked with her cumming while you helped her ride her high.

You pulled your fingers out of her, bringing them to her mouth, for her to licking them clean, she moaned at her own taste.

"You taste so good, Miss Maximoff."

"I can't wait to taste you, my good little angel."

You shared a wet yet soft kiss, with her hands fixing your messy hair and yours in the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. When the lack of air became present, you both separated, you helped her get off the organ and adjusted her dress.

"Come on, we still have to decorate the room, sweet girl," but before going to the church, Wanda grabbed your wrist pulling you closer to her, your back crashing to her front just to whisper in your ear "I'll wait for you after the event."

[novistarplanet]

Daddy's Girl

ExDrugDealer!Connie x BlackReader

summary:

cw:

wc;

a/n; hope yall don't get offended by this only read this over once this is also for my fllwers 🩷 + requests are open

Growing up you were raised with a very religious background your furthest memory to date was your mom making you sing in the choir.

You didn't mind at all you actually liked going to church at times with your father being the pastor you were inspected to be modest all the time since you had a reputation to uphold.

Which means no growing up. No parties, No skimpy clothing, and most importantly No boyfriends.

You could never wrap your head around it.

"Y/N pull out your bible and pay attention maybe kids your age can learn something from it" Your Auntie Ruthie smacks your arm with her hand fan.

pulling out your pink bible turning the page to the scripture.

It felt like forever of your dad preaching about the same things but with different words.

Each time he finishes reciting the stories a string of "hallelujahs" and "amen" flooded the medium-sized church.

it was going just like every Sunday went it was just about time for offering when you noticed a man well boy with a collection of tattoos that marked his neck and entire two arms standing beside your father

"Brothers and sisters ill like to introduce a new family member of our church Brother Springer"

looking around you it's clear as day not everyone was with the idea of him joining.

His full name was Connie Springer or "Constance" as people called him in the streets. He was a big-known drug dealer in the area who was recently shot.

Who now found himself in your daddy's church ranting about him finding God.

Did you believe him? Hell No. But as a Christian, you have to see the good in people.... so who are you to judge?

“Now folks I want you to open him with open arms lets all bow our heads and say a prayer towards this young brotha!” on cue, everyone bowed their head as your father recites the words.

You could feel eyes watching you while each word was spoken. slowly opening your eyes up you see Connie smirking at you biting his lip

you couldn't help but stare he was oddly attractive your aunties warned you to stay away from thugs and deadbeats.

but something about him made your heart skipped.

closing your eyes again focusing on the prayer and blocking him out but it wasn't too long before negative thoughts filled your mind.

dirty ones.

you have been having dreams of someone buried deep between your plush dark toned thighs slopping all over your messy cunt while one of his hands is wrapped around your neck.

rising up from your two soft pillows your clear juices dripping from he’s barely visible stubble beard.

His hands soon found home around your jaw shaking it roughly

“open your fucking mouth bitch” the dark figure huffed out.

quickly opening your mouth obeying his command

he used the hand that was wrapped around your jaw lifting it up and shoving it back down.

“you know what to do stop actin dumb” he takes his other hand that was originally holding your thigh to slap you across the face till your pink little tongue came out.

“ m’imma reward you for being so good” he hurtles a gob of spit down your throat forcing you to swallow it.

“yea thats it you really want daddy’s dick huh? you fuckin dirty whore” he lets go of the placements of hands as now they found their way towards his pants.

unzipping them revealing dark blue boxers with a large bulge

slowly pulling the-

“Y/N! You better not be sleep!” your auntie hits your side again slightly shoving you.

by the time you opened your eyes, everyone was on their way out probably going to red lobster or olive garden.

“now this is my first and only daughter y/n” You look over to see your dad talking to Connie looking directly at you.

connie still had the look in his eyes he did before

“well look at gawd y/n come over here and say hi to our new member”

you walk over gripping at your coral-colored dress.

“Hola hermosa, ¿cómo estás?” he spoke his spanish fast and you couldn’t lie you found it attractive especially the way hes tongue moves

“huh?? sorry im not very fluent in spanish” heat flooded your cheeks quickly. maybe you should have paid attention in spanish.

“ahh it’s okay Cariño i was either at first” followed by that he opened hes mouth displaying hes pearlie white teeth shiny teeth and me you guess.

“well good news baby connie here is coming to bible study”

okay what does that have to do with you???

“and you’re gonna help him find the way of god”

WHAT??

Today was the day you and connie were having a one on prayer session. You didn’t even know the boys last name.

and here you are wearing a simple peach shade dress with white stockings underneath.

not to mention the black lace bra that cups your breasts perfectly

you walked in to see Connie already there reading over the bible

he was wearing a wife beater tattoos marked all over hes two arms depictions of guns,skulls and you even spotted prayer hands.

you quickly rush towards your seat right in front of him he slowly raises he's head up meeting you in the eye.

"how long have you been staring at me hermosa?"

you quickly bended your head down shying away from he's grazed as he chuckles.

"im just joking with your baby"

despite the lingering sexual tension in the air you continue preaching

"uh okay so in Matthew 4:1 it talks about temptation from the devil and"

as you continue with the verse you can feel hes eyes lingering across your stockings you couldn't help but to look towards hes peeking becip.

during the session Constance lip bites , winking and even hes hand traveling too far down your cleavage

" and we drink the grape juice to symbolize Jesus’s purity an-“

“your not pure are you”

your head whips up with quickness as the words left hes mouth”

“what are you talking about?”

“i know you we’re having a wet dream about me sunday”

he arises from hes chair and puts your right leg over hes shoulder

he pulled up your skirt exposing your white dolly panties with a small bow on top with a small patch of wetness on the soft cloth.

“the only name i respond to is daddy” his hands found comfort around your throat. testing the waters he squeezed tightly.

“ is that clear whore?”

“yes daddy” small tears begin to prick from the corner of your eyes.

everything happened so fast your skirt and panties fully removed with your left breast making an appearance out.

“ do i have permission?”

you noticed his pants were ready off leaving him in his boxers in the short time you came to terms with everything.

slowly nodding your head up and down in agreement

“words hermosa”

“yes daddy”

he , mischievously grins down at you pulling off in boxers in a swift motion revealing he's length in all its greatness

you never seen a dick face to face this was all new

the tip of he’s head lined up to your entrance making its way inside of you

you can feel your body being rigid with inch length goes in

“Dios mío why didn’t you tell me you were this fucking tight”

he started moving in and out of you at a slow pace. You can tell by the look on his face he was holding himself back

he made soft movements as he kept going in and out

the pain on its own was unbearable it was like someone stabbing your uterus over and over again it didn't make it no better that you can feel him knocking at the entrance of your Cervix.

after a while of bad after bad thumps pleasure develops in your tummy.

"ohhhhh my god"

your hands went down and gripped the base of the chair despite the loud sounds the chair constantly makes. he stops for a minute repositioning himself into a better angle and striking himself back in you. His movements came with practice and skill as he continuously flicker your G-spot. You breathes were uneven and lost in the noises that your pussy made.

you could tell he was close he's movements became more sloppier with each stroke.

"im cumming oh my fucking god im cumming"

he's fingers found their place on your clit going in a circular motion.

you too both groan loudly together while the waves of pleasure passed you as he spills himself inside you he speaks again with he's deep voice.

"same time next Wednesday?"

[hayakawalove]

Sacrilege

Description:

“Are you the Devil?” You breathlessly ask.

Suguru smiles softly before fixing a piece of your hair.

“The Devil was an Angel, I’m something much worse.” 

TW: Just kind of gross overall, reader has fem genitalia and is referred to as a girl, slight sexism, blood, anal sex, rimming, vampire, dubcon, fear, sacrilege.

A/N: I'm sorry. Just kidding I'm not. Enjoy this gross man. Thank you to those below for helping me come up with things for this. The top two are on archive of our own. @icepopbucky23 @JuicyT @zeninsama

You hear the church bells before your eyes open. 

You weren’t completely used to them yet. Before you became a nun the sound never bothered you, it was barely a blip on your radar. But now it guided your every movement. 6 am, wake up and have breakfast. 12 pm, lunch and mid day prayer. 6 pm, dinner and afternoon prayer. Between the loud chimes there were duties that helped fill your time such as cleaning, helping new sisters, and baking. You were left with one day a week to do whatever you pleased, and it so happens that one day of the week was today. 

You groggily stand, dragging your feet around your room to get ready for the day. You throw on a white long sleeve shirt with a black floor length skirt. Even though you could forego your usual attire today, you still wore your coif. You look into the mirror and adjust the headpiece, letting the length of it flow against your shoulders. 

You had heard murmurs around the convent of a forest nearby. A forest that had wild blueberries, ripe for the picking. You planned to get a basket full and bring them back to make desserts for the other sisters. Not only were there whispers of fruit, but there was talk of a being that lived in the forest. The idea occupied your mind more often than you’d like to admit. The stories ran rampant, all different versions so there was no way to know what was true and what was not. 

Hushed whispers between sisters were often exchanged while cleaning. 

“Sister Sarah told me it has razor sharp teeth and glowing red eyes!” 

“What? No way. It has horns and fur just like the Devil himself.” 

You never participated in the discussions as you had only joined the convent several months ago. But you certainly listened. 

And because of this, you had decided to venture out into that very forest for blueberries. If you happened to catch a glimpse of the being that lurked out there, that wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen, now would it? 

With a wave and a smile you leave, woven basket in tow. 

The forest was a short walk behind the nunnery. The further you walk, the more the shrubbery engulfs you. Bird song fills your ears, along with the sound of a creek running freely in the distance. You spot speckles of blue, and you can hardly contain the excitement that flows through you. 

Your knees hit the ground while you reach over, plucking blueberries and dropping them in your basket. 

You were so distracted with the task at hand you didn’t even see him coming. 

“My my, looks like I have a lost little lamb on my hands.” 

Your head snaps up in the direction of the words. A man. Not just any man, but a beautiful man, venturing on ethereal. His long black locks flow freely from his head, with beautiful dark eyes trained on you. His attire was out of place for the forest, a long black dress shirt with black pants to match. 

Your eyes rapidly blink like a deer caught in a trap. You had no idea what to do. 

“It’s okay darling, I don’t bite.” 

Had the birds gone silent? You could have sworn they were chirping only moments ago. 

“I-Im so sorry Sir. I didn’t know this land belonged to anyone.” Lies. Yes you did. You just hadn’t expected it to be owned by someone like him. 

Your staggering words amuse him. A deep chuckle rings out, a sound so heavenly it competes with the voices in the choir. 

“It’s okay, I’m only teasing you. I don’t mind, really.” He takes several steps forward. 

“They do taste wonderful this time of year, I like using them for tea.” He continues on. 

You can’t help the confused look that grows over your face. 

“What?”

“The blueberries. I take it you’re here for them.” He looks down at your basket. 

“Oh! Right. Yes, but I apologize for picking them without asking. I will leave this here for you, I didn’t mean to take from you, truly.” 

A soft smile spreads over his face. 

“You can take as many as you like, Sister.” 

Your heart beats so rapidly that you feel like it will burst from your chest any moment. 

“In fact, there’s also raspberries out here as well. You can have some of those too, if you like.” 

Heat creeps up your cheeks, and you’re sure it wasn’t from the mid autumn breeze. 

“You are too kind-“ You realize you don’t know his name. 

“Suguru. You can call me Suguru.” He speaks smoothly. 

When did he get so close? He was a foot away now, legs lowering into a deep crouch beside you. 

His cologne fills your senses, and a low buzz crawls over your skin. He smells dark and forbidden, you couldn’t get enough. His hair falls around his shoulders and you briefly wondered what it might feel like against your hand-

He reaches forward and picks a berry from your basket, slowly bringing it up to his lips. You can’t look away. It feels like a sight you aren’t supposed to see, bordering on something intimate yet completely normal. 

“Are you okay Sister?” He brings you back to earth. 

“You don’t look so well. Would you like to come back to my house for a drink?” His tone dips into that of worry. 

His words shock you to your senses. You shouldn’t be out here in the middle of nowhere with a man, a man you hadn’t met before, no less.

“No thank you sir Suguru, I should be heading back actually. But I’m truly grateful for your kindness and generosity.” 

He looks deep into your eyes, his shoulders relaxing. 

“That’s a shame.” 

The hypnotizing hold he had on you is broken once he stands up. You let out a shaky breath and stand as well. 

“Well, if you ever want to get raspberries or more blueberries, you are welcome to stop by again.” He speaks with a soft smile. 

Despite the soothing effect his voice has on you, you can’t help but notice how the hair on the back of your neck stands up when he speaks. You nod curtly, thanking him once more before scurrying back towards the nunnery.

Thoughts of him occupy your mind for the rest of the night, and several nights thereafter. You were expecting a monster lurking, not a man. Not just a man either. You had never seen someone so beautiful. His words captivated you, you had held your breath every time he spoke. 

The blueberries you had picked were all used for baking that week, and you found yourself craving more. 

At least, that’s what you told yourself. But really, what you craved was more of his presence. 

On your next free day you decided to get blueberries once more, nerves filled your veins at the idea of catching a glimpse of him again. 

After a short walk you find yourself in the middle of Suguru’s forest once more. You see him sitting under a tree, a meal spread out before him. 

“Oh hello Sister, here for some more?” He asks, looking up at you with a grin. 

Heat creeps up your cheeks. 

“Yes, if you’ll allow it.” 

“Certainly.” 

You work in silence as you pick more blueberries. He continues sitting against the tree, eyes flicking over a book that sits in front of him. 

You try to keep from peering over at him, but you can’t help yourself. You try to steal glances much like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

“Is everything alright Sister?” He caught onto your act. 

You clear your throat and stare at your hands working in the bush. 

“Yes. What is it you’re reading, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“The Old Testament. I like to refresh myself occasionally.” 

Your eyebrows quirk up and you whip your head around. A book binded in black leather rests against his lap, the pages flipped to the middle of the book. 

“You read the word of the Lord, Suguru?” 

His gaze catches yours, and there’s a glint of something sinister lurking behind his dark eyes. 

“I like to indulge myself once in a while.” 

You feel your cheeks begin to burn at the intense eye contact. Your fingers begin to work on plucking more blueberries as you rip your attention back to them. 

“I didn’t know.” 

Suguru flips a page, the sound filling the quiet space. 

“That’s alright. We’ve only just met, after all.” His voice sounds like velvet. 

Your fingers tremble. You were unsure why your body had such a reaction to being around him. He was a kind man, you had nothing to fear. 

“What’s your favorite passage?” You ask, trying to stave off your nerves. 

“Do not fear, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your god. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” He speaks. 

You could recite the testament by memory, you knew it just as well as you knew your own name. 

“Isaiah 41:10.” You breathe out. 

Suguru hums softly and flips another page. 

“What’s your favorite, Sister?” 

“Oh, I don’t think I could pick.” Just as you had swore you knew the Bible inside out, all memory of it completely vanished the second he asked. You don’t think you could remember a verse if you tried. 

“You truly are a devout follower.” 

You feel your knees begin to ache beneath you. Surely you had been here for at least 30 minutes by now, but time passed by slowly with Suguru. 

Your legs straighten out as you stand up. Suguru looks up at you, his face relaxed and beautiful as ever. 

“Done already?” He questions. 

You look down at your basket, happy with your harvest. Your eye trails over to the food laid out beside Suguru. He hadn’t touched a single thing since you had gotten there. Maybe he wasn't hungry. 

“I think so. I’m on dinner duty tonight so I need to get back.” 

“Okay, well it was a treat having you again.” His voice both warms you and chills you to your core. 

You smile softly.

“Yes, it was nice to see you again as well. Thank you sir Suguru.”

“Just Suguru is fine.” 

You look down bashfully. Addressing him so casually felt wrong, but if he said it was okay then it must be. 

You turn around when a flash of red catches your eyes. A bundle of flowers nestled in the greenery sticks out to you. 

“Oh, these are beautiful.” You lean over and hold one of the petals. The color was breathtaking, the beauty of the flower completely entranced you. You didn’t even notice the thorns. 

“Ah, yes. Euphorbia milii. Christ’s Thorns.” Suguru sighs out behind you. 

“They are so lovely. How long have you had-“ Your words cut short as your finger slides against a thorn, the sharpness slicing through your flesh. 

You let out a yelp and draw your hand close to your chest, cradling it against you. A pressure presses against your back, making you turn your head. You were met directly with Suguru’s piercing gaze. He looks down intently towards your hand. How did he get to you so fast? 

“Are you okay?” He asks, his tongue sliding against his bottom lip. 

“Yes, I think I just pricked myself.” You murmur, looking back down at your finger. 

Blood was dribbling from the nick, a bright red, a red rivaling that of the flowers. 

Suguru grabs your finger, pulling it to his mouth. His tongue slides against the pad of your finger, before his lips encase it. You feel as he sucks on the wound, his warm saliva coating you. Pain spreads through you before instant relief. His lids close as his tongue laves your finger. 

“Suguru, what are you doing?” You ask shakily. 

His eyes flutter back open as he comes back down to earth. 

Suguru pulls your finger from his mouth and looks down at it, before meeting your eyes. He draws in a sharp breath, staring deep into you. 

“I'm sorry, force of habit.” He brushes off. 

“Do you need first aid? We can go back to my house if so.” The smell of copper leaks from his mouth as he speaks. 

Goosebumps cover your arms as you look up at him. 

“I think I’m alright, it’s not that bad. Thank you, Suguru. I should be headed off.” You stutter out, completely taken aback. 

He's somehow even closer than before. You take in his appearance, noticing the way your blood stains his bottom lip. There was something predatory in the way he looks down at you. Your stomach fills with unease at the sight of his pupils dilating. With a weak smile you turn around and head back to the church. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel the way he stared at you as you left. 

You had gone back to the forest several times. You couldn’t explain why you kept going back. It felt like a magnet was drawing you to the depths, you were unable to resist. Every time you returned, Suguru was always there. It seemed as though he was lurking around, waiting for you. But you knew that was impossible. He lived nearby, you figured that must be why he was constantly around. 

The two of you had gotten fairly close. You had explained to him why you joined the church. A missing piece in your life, it had seemed. He rarely spoke. You wanted to learn more about him, but he always waved you off, telling you he preferred to listen. 

The next time you had gone, you barely even realized the dark heavy clouds that hung in the sky. You picked a decent amount of blueberries, with Suguru stealing several of them. Before you could gather more than a few dozen, rain started to pour. The two of you ran towards a large tree seeking refuge. 

The wind rushed around you. Suguru’s voice melted into the sound. His words flowed together, but you were sure he offered you shelter at his house. Before you knew it, you said yes. 

It was a short walk to his home. The building was small and blended into the trees surrounding it. You certainly would have missed it if he didn’t guide you. You were sure you would’ve gotten lost if you didn’t watch his tall figure in front of you. 

The door creaks open as Suguru turns the knob. He ushers you inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Suddenly you felt like a rat in a cage. 

“Stay here Sister. I’ll go get matches.” He squeezes your shoulder before heading off into the darkness. A shudder runs through you, but you blame it on the way rain water clings to your clothes. 

You expect to hear noises or movement, but the entire house was completely silent. The storm rages on outside, but somehow the noise of it was completely drowned out by the absence of noise in the house. 

A loud swish catches your attention, causing you to jolt. Suguru had struck a match, and was lighting candles around the house. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he drifts across the room. 

You chuckle and watch his figure move skillfully about. 

“It’s okay, just on edge I suppose.” 

Suguru looks down and blows on the match once all candles were lit. 

“Would tea help? I find that always calms me down.” His voice is like honey. A warm noise that fills your bones. 

“That would be wonderful.” 

Suguru excuses himself once more to get you tea. You hear him call out to you shortly after. 

“Follow me.” 

You feel a lump settle in your throat at the request. There was no reason for you to distrust him, so you make your way towards the sound of his voice. 

You find yourself walking into a decently sized kitchen. Suguru stands beside the counter with two cups in front of him. Steam floats above them, carrying over a heavenly scent to you. It smelt like blueberries, it must be the tea he had mentioned previously. Suguru lifts up one of the cups, offering it to you. You gladly accept, striding over to stand beside him. You slowly sip on the liquid, letting it warm you inside out. The two of you stand in silence before Suguru breaks it. 

“Sister, has anyone told you how breathtaking you are?” 

His deep voice rings through your ears. You feel as heat spreads throughout your body, suddenly making your outfit feel stifling. 

“Pardon me?” You look up from your mug and meet his gaze. 

His face was neutral but his eyes were calculating. He steps forward in front of you, placing his hands on the counter on either side of you. A sickly sweet scent fills your nostrils. You weren’t sure if it was the berries on his tongue or the cologne concoction on his throat. Had men always smelt this addicting? You had never been so close to one before, so you weren’t sure. 

“It’s a shame you’re cooped up there so often.” He muses to himself quietly. 

Your eyes dart to peek at his tongue when he speaks. Stained red. Must be from the berries he had let you pick. 

“I enjoy my work, Suguru.” You try to defend your home. 

You did love being a nun and all the work that surrounded it, so why did it feel like you were lying through your teeth right now? Your mind knew you preferred the pews, so why did it go against every instinct your body was telling you? Each day that passed by since meeting Suguru, you felt yourself wishing to be by his side. Even if that meant you weren’t in the house of God. 

You expect to feel a fan of breath hit your face at any moment, but it never comes. 

“Of course, my apologies.” He murmurs, before pushing himself off the counter. 

You find yourself missing his closeness as soon as he steps away. Your fingers idly fiddle with the mug. Your tea began to get cold, and you had only drunk half of it. You had been too preoccupied with Suguru up until that point. Your eyes drift down and you notice that his cup was still completely full, not a drop of his tea gone. Maybe he wasn’t thirsty? 

“Maybe it’s for the best. Men can be scoundrels. It wouldn’t be safe for you.” His finger traces the lip on his mug once he settles in place beside you again. 

Your throat feels dry as you straighten yourself out. 

“What do you mean?” You hadn’t put much thought into men before. 

“Temptations of the flesh, of course.” His finger stops and his eyes meet yours. 

Your cheeks instantly heat once you realize what he’s insinuating. 

“What about you Suguru? You are a man. Are you not tempted by flesh as well? Are you dangerous?” 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

“I’m safe, Sister.” You feel a chill run down your spine at his words. 

“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. Sometimes I wonder why it’s a crime under the eyes of the Lord.” He goes on to answer your question. You suddenly feel uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. 

“That must be the Devil luring you.” 

“Is it? Tell me Sister, why would God make something feel so good if he didn’t want his children to indulge in it from time to time?” 

Suguru was as much of a child of the Lord as you were, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was a part of something else much darker. 

You’re in a trance as Suguru removes the mug from your hand and sets it on the counter beside you. 

“It can’t be that good.” You find yourself stating as he moves closer to you. 

Suguru lets out a chuckle. 

“Is that so? How would you know? Have you engaged in fornication?” 

“Of course not.” You stutter out, defending your purity. 

“Have you ever been curious? Surely that isn’t a sin alone.” He questions. 

You had wondered what another’s hands would feel like against your skin from time to time. You always redirected your thoughts as soon as you caught yourself slipping, feeling guilty the second it happened. 

“I was waiting for marriage before I became a nun. Once you become a nun, you are married to the Lord, there is no room for another.” You say. 

You look up and notice him staring intently at you. A tingle shoots through your body, you nervously glance away. You could still feel him stare at you. 

“Yes, well, there are other ways to indulge in the pleasures of life besides lying with a husband.” 

You peer up at him. 

“Like what?” 

You had only ever been taught about wedding nights, learning about certain things a woman must do to please her husband. 

He takes a step closer towards you. 

“There are many… pleasurable areas to explore.” 

Suguru reaches for your hand, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist. 

“Come Sister, let me show you what it’s like to enjoy yourself.” 

You have no time to protest. He leads you away from the kitchen counter, bringing you towards a table. It was made of a dark mahogany wood, with nothing on top. Suguru slides you next to the table, and you can’t help but look up at him in confusion. 

“Get on top.” He says. 

His strong hands help you sit on the table. You sit on your spread knees, your ass hanging off the edge. 

Hands grasp at you, inching your skirt up. You find yourself helping to pull the clothing out of the way. You let out a shaky breath as you feel a cold brush of air kiss your thighs. 

“I’m not sure about this.” You whisper, suddenly becoming aware of the situation. 

Suguru’s movements slow. 

“Do you trust me Sister?” 

You wait for a moment before nodding your head. Fingers wrap around your underwear, pulling it to the side. A feather touch breezes past your asshole, making you gasp out. 

Hands grab onto your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. Something wet presses against your asshole, making a moan slip past your lips. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. You couldn’t tell if you liked it or not. Suguru kneels behind you as he begins to devour your ass. You wiggle around, not sure if you want to press into him or not.

Wrong. This was wrong. 

But if it was so wrong, why did it have to feel so good? You were always warned not to indulge too much, but how were you supposed to stop now? 

Suguru’s warm hands hold your quivering thighs down. The wood table digs into your skin and you swear you were getting splinters. Somehow you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when you felt something warm and wet press against your entrance. 

You let out a soft whine, feeling your hole clench around nothing. Suguru’s tongue traces around your asshole lightly, teasing you. 

“S-Suguru-“ You whimper. 

Before you could say anything further you feel one of his strong hands reach up, grazing over your lower back. He pushes your back down, softly but forcefully. You can’t help but lean over completely, only jutting your ass out further. 

Suguru’s tongue dips in your hole once causing you to moan out. His hands grasp each of your cheeks as he spreads them apart, laying you open for him. Your face was flushed and hot in embarrassment. You had never been so exposed before, not even when you laid your sins bare. 

Suguru continues to poke his tongue in and out of your ass, every so often wiggling his tongue inside. You feel your chest tightening with every breath you take. Your pussy aches in need, you could feel it dripping against his wooden table. How filthy. 

Your fingers twitch, desperately wanting to relieve some of the pressure. But you couldn’t, it was wrong. This was wrong. Your moans fill the kitchen, bouncing off the walls. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. 

You could feel as your hole twitches around his tongue, begging for more. 

His tongue slides up and down against your ass, drawing more moans from you. Nothing in your life had ever felt so good. 

“How does it feel, Angel?” 

Your mouth drops open, trying to respond to him. 

“It’s- it’s-“ Another swipe against you causes you to shiver. 

“Will you let me show you more?” He asks, pulling away. 

“Yes, yes!” The words escape you before you can think to regret them. 

Suguru stands up straight, smoothing his hands against your perched ass. You hear something clink and unbuckle. Your head turns before Suguru grabs it, facing you forward again. 

“Eyes forward, little lamb.” He commands.

You nod your head shakily. The world stills around the two of you. Nothing could get between you in this moment. 

Suguru stands behind you, while you kneel on the table. Your back straightens, no longer awkwardly leaning down. One of his arms wraps across your waist while the other reaches up to hold your jaw in place. You feel as he takes a deep inhale against your neck, lips placed against your pulse. 

“Are you ready?” 

The question runs through your mind. Were you ready? You knew once this happened there was no going back. But your body craved him. It was like an invisible force pulled you to him with string. You needed to be closer to him.

You nod your head as best you can while he holds it. Suguru clicks his tongue and licks up the side of your neck. 

“Need to hear you say it, little one.” 

“I’m ready.” Your voice squeaks. 

You feel as his cock slides against your ass, rubbing against your tight hole. 

“I’m scared.” You admit, trepidation trembling your voice. 

“What’s my favorite passage again?” He questions. 

“Do not fear for I am with you. Do not be dismayed-“ you begin reciting the passage from memory. 

His cock pushes against your opening and you feel it slide in. Your face pinches in pain while you feel the dull ache of his cock splitting you open. 

Just when you think he can’t get any deeper, he pushes in more. 

“Hurts.” You moan.

“You’re doing so well.” Suguru speaks against your skin. 

He pulls his thumb from your face and slides it into your mouth, the length of it stretching across your tongue. You suck on Suguru’s thumb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

The hand resting across your stomach slides down and holds your thigh open at the crease. His hand was dangerously close to your pussy, and you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than for him to touch you. 

Pain shoots through your body once his hips meet yours. His grip remains tight on you as he fills you. Your hole clenches around him, sucking him further into you. 

He pulls back slightly before shoving his cock in you once more. It felt like your head was in the stars, a mixture of pleasure and pain pulsing through your veins. 

His cock keeps a steady pace as he stretches you out over and over again. Tears prick your eyes at the sensation. 

Your hand holds over his tightly, afraid you would fall forward if he didn’t keep you upright. 

You moan around his thumb. 

“Does your pussy feel neglected Angel?” He asks, pulling his thumb from your mouth.

You hold tighter onto him. 

His hand slides out from underneath yours and he grabs your hand, guiding it between your legs. 

“Touch it for me baby.” 

“It’s wrong.” You moan out. 

“Why is that? Is it wrong to feel good?” 

You feel your fingers make contact with the sensitive nub between your legs. Your stomach tightens as he applies pressure against you. 

“Feel how wet you are?” 

He moves your hand to collect the wetness from your slit before pulling it back up to your clit. 

Suguru thrusts his hips into you, his strong hands holding you in place. 

You can’t stop yourself. Your fingers begin to draw small circles over your clit, eliciting gasps from you. 

“Feels so-“ you moan out. 

You feel something sharp graze your throat. 

“Yeah? Tell me how it feels.” 

“Feels so good Suguru, thank you!” You can’t help but cry out. 

A deep rumble sounds out from his chest. His cock never slows down, continuing to fuck your tight hole. 

Your fingers slip against your soft skin. You no longer cared about what was right and what was wrong. There was only what felt good, and right now that was this. 

Your fingers speed up as you feel something growing within you. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to stop, you had never done this before. But your body begged you not to. 

“You’re gonna cum for me? Cum on my cock?” 

Your body shakes in his grasp. The force of him fucking up into you would shove you down if it weren’t for his strong grip on you. 

“I- oh!” Your moans tremble throughout your body. 

“That’s it. Don’t stop.” He urges you. 

You feel your body tighten when something explodes inside of you. A moan falls from your lips, between pleasure and desperation. Your tight hole squeezes and spasms around Suguru’s hard length. As you feel yourself let go, something sharp pierces into your neck.

You clutch Suguru’s arms harder, your moans falling into desperate pleas. Your mouth moves to ask him something, but nothing comes out. Something warm trickles down the side of your neck and down your chest. The pain from your throat burns across your skin, making your chest pound. It hurt, but the pain felt irresistible.

Your eyes glance down and you see red trickling down your chest, sliding down. 

“Suguru” you start, unable to say anything more. 

His teeth dig in deeper, sending waves of pain throughout you. Your body felt like it was set ablaze, the high not completely washed over. 

His cock drives further into you as you twist in his arms like a wild animal. It felt like his hands were everywhere all at once, keeping you pliable. 

“You do taste sweet.” You hear his voice grumble beside you. 

His tongue licks up the side of your neck, trailing against the warmth that dripped down. 

Teeth graze against your neck once more, diving deep. Suguru’s lips make contact with your throat as he sucks the life from your veins. You can’t help the moan that escapes your throat. Your body felt incredibly dizzy, your mind woozy. You can’t feel anything besides the way he forces himself into your ass over and over. 

“You’ll let me fill you up, won’t you?” 

His hand keeps your face forward, not giving you much moving room. 

Your lips twitch to respond, but nothing comes out. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get your body to speak. 

Despite the way you involuntarily thrash in his hold, your body aches for more. His mouth cracks into a grin and he speeds up his pace. His cocks slams hard into you making you shake like a leaf. You feel warmth spread inside you when his cum shoots deep into you. You couldn’t tell if he was breathing hard or not, your heartbeat was too loud. It felt faint in your chest, but the sound of it deafened you. 

Something wet slides against your neck once more. You identify it as Suguru’s tongue when you feel sharp teeth graze your sensitive throat. You wait for him to puncture you once more, but it never comes. It was like he was showing you he could do it again, and there would be nothing you could do to stop it. 

Your panting fills the room so loudly you swear it shakes his house. Suguru’s fingers dig deep into your waist as he slips himself free from your tight ass. You whine as you feel his warm cum seep from your hole, dripping against his kitchen table. Freezing fingers grasp your ass and spread it apart once more. Suguru’s tongue makes contact against your hole. A strangled noise escapes your throat as you feel him lick the dripping cum from you. His grip remains steady against you as you try to wriggle free. 

“Hm, good girl.” He whispers against your skin. 

Suguru parts from your ass and slides his hand around your waist again. He lifts you with ease off the kitchen table, and you suddenly become aware of how badly your knees ache. You wobble for a second, grabbing onto the desecrated table. Suguru grabs onto your hips and leans down. You watch as his tongue slides against your stomach, following the trail of blood all the way up your chest. He licks your skin clean while staring into your eyes, and in some way this felt far more intimate than anything else the two of you had done. Once he finishes licking it up, he straightens out. 

“I don’t like to leave messes.” He speaks. 

Your hand reaches up to grasp your neck, feeling the ruined skin. Your body feels incredibly hot somehow, a warm tranquility settling over your bones. 

You look at the man in front of you, if you could even call him that. 

“Are you the Devil?” You breathlessly ask. 

Suguru smiles softly before fixing a piece of your hair. 

“The Devil was an Angel, I’m something much worse.” 

The words shock you to your core. You weren’t sure of what happened, or why your body liked it so much. 

A loud church bell sounds out, snapping you from your thoughts. 

“It looks like it’s dinner time for you, Sister.” Suguru says. 

He helps guide your skirt back into place, and adjusts your headpiece. You couldn’t find any words to speak. Everything felt like a dream, you weren’t sure if you were awake or not. 

Suguru tucks you in his side and leads you outside. The rain had cleared up, a beacon of light shining on the tall roof of the nunnery. It feels as though you’re in a trance as he leads you back to the house of the Lord. He guides the two of you all the way up to the large entrance of the nunnery. Large wooden doors greet you. Suguru knocks twice, before the door creeps open. A mess of white hair comes into view. 

“Oh, Sister. We were looking everywhere for you.” The head of the church looks between the two of you. 

“My apologies. It seems she got lost in the forest, I’m just returning her to you, Satoru.” The lies slip past Suguru’s lips so easily you almost believe them. 

“Thank you, Suguru.” 

You feel yourself freeze at the realization that he knows Father Satoru. The door opens wider as Suguru passes you over, the other man ushering you inside. You turn around, your eyes locking on Suguru’s. He cracks a small smile before the doors slam shut.

[kissorkill16]

The Ballad of Lucy Yi: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: The Ballad of Jane Doe, but with Lucy Yi and Mya Peterson.

And from the ground beneath my feet

Lucy doesn't remember what happened after she flew out of the seat of her car. All that she felt was a crash, then sharp shooting pain throughout her entire stomach, then darkness.

She woke up and suddenly didn't feel like herself. She looked all around her body, and she was surprised to see that her stomach had a giant laceration, and she was bleeding out. How this didn't hurt for her was somehow a miracle.

I hear the anguish of the street

Just then, out of nowhere, she heard screaming and arguing coming from somewhere near the Golden Apple Amusement Park. First screaming, then arguing, then crying.

A choir never complete

She walked as quickly as she could to the sounds, and her eyes widened when she saw that the forest was flooded with ambulances and police cars. What happened here?

"What's going on?", she wondered. "Hello? Mom, Dad? Where are you?

She scanned the areas for her parents, and when she saw them, she ran to them, but stopped in her tracks when she saw that her mother was on her knees, crying her eyes out.

"Mommy? Daddy? Why are you crying?", she asked them. But neither of them answered.

And like an old, forgotten tune

"Mommy! Daddy! It's me, Lucy!", she yelled at them. They still didn't answer. She thought they were ignoring her, and that made Lucy angry.

"I'm bleeding, guys! I'm bleeding here! Get a doctor!", she screamed. "Mom! Dad! Why won't you listen to me?!"

A song that no one knows

Forgot how it goes

"My poor baby girl!"

Lucy was confused. Why was she crying about her when she was literally standing right in front of her? "Mom?", she asked, "Mommy, I'm right here."

But her mother still didn't answer.

Lucy still didn't get it...until she saw the lumpy white blanket behind them. She looked passed them to see a hand sticking out, and that hand and wrist held her Golden Apple charm bracelet.

"Is that me?", she whispered to herself. "Am I...dead?"

She couldn't believe it.

Just you and me, forever eternally

Lucy Yi

When she witnessed her funeral, she couldn't help but scream in anger and anguish.

And I'm asking "WHY LORD?!"

"I had a family, and friends! And I was just stripped away from them for no reason at all! It's not fair! It's not fair!", she cried into the air of the church, yelling as loud as she could, because she knew no one would even be able to hear her.

IF THIS IS HOW I DIE, LORD

"I didn't deserve this! I had so much more time than this! It's not fair!", she kept screaming. She cried as she watched so many different people go to the podium and say different things about her. How kind she was, how lively she was, and how it saddened them to see her go so soon.

Some of them even started to cry and couldn't even finish their sentences, no one could even get the words out. Lucy didn't blame them, because she was starting to cry too.

Why'd you take me from my family and my friends?

As time passed, she watched over the city of Raven Brooks. Her sadness quickly grew to anger as she was forgotten within just a month.

Seriously? People just forgot about her just like that? She hadn't even been dead a year, and they're already going on with their days as if she never existed in the first place.

Her anger turned her into a darkened and distorted shadow with angry white eyes.

I've gotten little celebration

"So you're all just going to forget about me just like that?", she asked the people from afar. "After all we've been through together? I thought we were friends."

What angered her even more was that Maritza stopped wearing the Golden Apple charm bracelet she wore along with her and Mya. Did she really want to forget about her that badly?

But no consolation

But the thing that angered her most of all was how Mr. Peterson continued to live his happy life with his wife and kids. She knew he wanted to forget about her the most, considering he was the one who killed her with his death machine.

The man hadn't even bothered to show up to her funeral. Did that man not want to face the consequences of his actions? Was he so afraid of coming face to face with his messes?

She knew Mr. Peterson had to pay for his crimes. One way or another, he'd atone for his sins. Now that would bring Lucy peace.

He'll lose both children in the end

More months passed by, then Lucy met Mya in the basement as she died by falling off the roof. She was watching over Aaron as he cried into his makeshift bed on the cold wooden floor, her hair out of her usual pigtails and her cheeks stained with tears.

Lucy offered her to join her in her darkened shadow. She refused, but Lucy wouldn't take no for an answer. She reminded her of all the times Aaron treated her so badly and how her father did nothing to stop it.

Mya gave in after only a few days, and she was corrupted by the same shadow as Lucy.

A melody flows through the air

When silence falls, does no one care?

(Does anyone care?)

More months passed, and Nicky was thrown down in the basement with Aaron, Mya and Lucy. The two little girls were more than happy with him down here with them.

Lucy loved how he was the only one who didn't forget about her after her death, and how he was the only one who seemed to care after Aaron and Mya went missing. She remembered that he was the one who cried the most at her funeral.

Another sad, forgotten tune

Another song that no one knows, so that's how it goes

Lucy and Mya begged him to join them so they could be together again, but Nicky refused. He kept screaming at them that they weren't Mya and Lucy, they were just demons, figments of his imagination. That made them angry.

The two little girls threatened to hurt Nicky if he didn't do as they said. Technically, Lucy was the one who did the threatening, Mya just stood to the side and watched, sad with the fact that she couldn't do anything as her friend was tortured.

Just Lucy and me, forever eternally

Mya Peterson

As the month went by, Nicky became a mindless, beaten up, obedient ragdoll for Lucy and Mya to play with.

Lucy loved his obedience, Mya didn't like it too much. She loved Nicky so much, and seeing him like this made her sad. But Lucy distracted her by telling her that this would drive him to kill himself...

Then they could be together again.

And Mya wanted nothing more than to be with Nicky again.

And she's asking "WHY LORD?!"

Why oh why oh why oh why?!

But despite all of that, despite wanting nothing more than to be with Nicky again, she also wanted to see her brother.

She wanted to let him know that she wasn't angry at him. She knows it was an accident, she knows he didn't mean to push her off the roof.

If only Aaron could see her...

If only she could see Aaron...

Maybe then he'd forgive himself just a little bit.

This is no way to die, lord

No one to sing, no one to sigh

The little girl began to lose her sense of identity. She wondered how she let herself turn from a sweet little girl to a shadowy demon. She wondered why she didn't intervene as her own friend tormented Nicky, who was also their friend.

She wondered why she didn't do anything to help him, why she didn't help him escape. Because apparently, no one seemed to even notice he was missing in the first place.

No one was coming for him, and he wasn't getting out anytime soon.

Now that all is said and done, isn't there anyone to tell me who I am?

"Don't you know that man can't even face the fact that he was a neglectful father?"

She was listening to Lucy again. The girl was once again telling her that her father was a bad person. While that was only partly true, Mya didn't want to listen to her. She didn't want to listen to her friend talk badly about her father.

"Answer me this, Mya. Did he even bother to throw you a proper funeral, or did he just bury you in the backyard like some disgusting brute?"

Mya already knew the answer to that question.

Instead of just putting together another funeral, he decided to just bury her in the backyard and make up a lie about her and Aaron going missing. He even went so far to make her own friend look like a crazy person.

She started to wonder if her father even loved her at all.

No singing songs of celebration

Just this sorry speculation

"But Mya, it's okay.", said Lucy as she put a hand on her shoulder. "You have me and Nicky now. We don't need anyone else, not even Aaron. If he's going to treat you badly, then he doesn't even deserve to call you his sister."

Mya slowly nodded.

"I know it's hard to accept the fact that you're dead and there's nothing you can do about it..."

Like Lucy, I'll be eternally

A forgotten name, some lost refrain

"But I swear, it'll get better from here. This'll drive him to kill himself, and then we can be together, and Nicky wants to be with us again. Even he agrees.", Lucy turned to look at Nicky, "Don't you, Nicky?"

The boy nodded, mumbling a silent "Yes, Lucy."

Lucy patted the boy on the head, "Good boy."

Mya smiled at her friend. She had to admit, she did love it when Nicky agreed with them. She'd never seen him like this before, never had he been so happy. At least, that's what Lucy said.

Underneath that potato sack he wore over his handsome face, Lucy would tell her that he was happy, she'd tell her that she made sure he never wanted to leave ever again.

Mya patted Nicky on the head. As long as Nicky and Lucy were happy, she was happy.

Just Lucy...

Lucy Yi and Mya Peterson

The two little girls wrapped their arms around Nicky.

A melody flows through the air

When silence falls, does no one care?

Lucy Yi and Mya Peterson

[povofjustme]

Fake Lovers

Your are the singer of a band and a ‘rival’ of Tokio Hotel. The fans loved when you guy interact with each other. So the company make you fake date someone! 

Part one 

Georg listing x Black reader

Have fun love<3 - bc its not pr. I wrote in at 3 am. Didn't have time(:

I am a part of a girl band from the US.  I have been singing since I was a little kid. At a church and  school, I would be in a choir. I met my best friends in high school. Nia the drummer, Jade the basses and Alex played the guitar. We all had a love for music and from then, it was history. 

Alex wanted to post a song that we had been working on for the longest. The next day the girls all woke me up, telling me that the song bowled up on YouTube. I never thought it would happen but now look at us. We made something of ourselves. Going on interviews and meeting up with big names. 

We had a tour in Europe, surprisingly we had a big fan base over there. Nia, Jade, and I we’re in our practice room, thinking of more outfits for the upcoming show in a few days. “Hey, guys!”  Alex came into the room with our drink she went out to get. “Hey babe,” I said with a smile. “So I was thinking, we can do a song for the stage broke.”  are heads all turned to the left.

“Okay listen, there's a band here called... Tokio Hotel” “Oh yeah, I heard of them,” Nia said. She has always been the quiet type. The things that came out of her mouth surprised us at times but she kept us on task. “They are a really big group here. Girls are in love with them” Nia added. “They are not bad looking” We looked to see Jade on her phone looking them up.

“Well, I was thinking we can do one of their songs when we hit Germany” “That sounds good but girl... I will have to learn it in like 2 weeks. I know German but it's Arsch”.  It was a really good idea, but I didn't want to fuck up anything. “I can help you G, you forget am half germen. I speak it at home,” Nia said. “I know, but people already hate me because am black. I don't want to give them another reason.” 

“G, we will all help you, we have 2 weeks. You got this, We got this” Alex told me, All I did was shake my head. For the days leading up to the preforms, we would do a concert and after I would spend m. In my time with Nia, I learned the lyrics to the song Durch Den Monsun.

Now the two weeks are up and it was time to sing. Walking out on stage, we have seen so many people. Signs with our names and faces on them. They were so sweet and amazing. 

 Now is the time “Wie fühlen wir uns heute Abend? Ich weiß, wir sollten Pause machen. Ich wollte euch etwas zeigen. Bereit Mädels?” (How are we feeling tonight? I know we should be on break but I wanted to show you guys something. Ready girls?)

The guys gave me a head nod and we started on the song. It was 3 seconds into the song and the crowd is going wild. I could remember a thing after that. Now am back in the hotel room lying down. “You know you did amazing, you got all the words right” We stayed in two hotel rooms. I got the share with Nia. “Thanks, babe”

“G, wake up. Addy needs to talk to us” Nia told me “Girl what time is it?” “7 a.m., come on and get dressed, I have to go wake the other girls.” “Is everything okay?” “I don’t know. She told us to meet her downstairs in an hour or so. She told us to dress like ourselves. So go in the shower first, it takes you forever to do your hair” I laughed while she was walking to the next door. 

We all met up in Nia and I's room to just do some finishing touches on our look. We all have a different look. Jade, Alex, Nia, and I all wore the same shirt differently but had the same dark blue jeans. I had washed my hair and it ended up in a curled-up afro which I loved. I had made my shirt into a high crop top so you could still see our band name and the dark blue jeans high-waisted.

We got downstairs to see Addy waiting for us. “Good morning my loves. I want to meet you guys to some people!” “Addy I know you are the manager and all but I might have to kill you if you try to wake us up again this early?” Alex said. “I got you guys food” “Okay I love you again” Alex added. “So what's up,” I asked 

“Tokio Hotel saw your guys perform last night and they wanted to meet you, in person,” She said with a smile on her face. “Wait are you for really!” “Yes I am, and we have to meet this in 3 hours. The place is an hour away and I want you all awake so we will drive there. Get more food and meet up with them. Okay” “Yes” we added at the same time

“Let us get this shit on the road. Am want to sleep in the car” Alex had always been the outgoing one. Always speaking her mind and not caring. Jade was that way too but she had a filter. The car ride was okay. We called for a bit until Alex went to sleep. We stopped and ate and 15 minutes later we were at a company building. The man who was driving told us we had to go through the back, due to the fans. 

Even going through the back there was still fans everywhere. All I could think was that this group made it far. Each of us had a security guard by our side until we got into the building and into the room we were supposed to be in. Addy opened the door, she was greeted by a man who I assumed was their manager. They chatted for a few seconds then he looked at us.

“It is so nice to finally meet your girls. My name is Max and am the boy's mangers.” “Hello, Max” “Hi” we each said. “Max can you give the girls a run down for today” “Oh yes, I know it's one of your breaks from your show and I premises you girls can all sleep in Tom-” All I was thinking at this time was just sleep. “You and the boys will have an hour to yourself. No cameras, no pictures, nothing. Just getting to know each other.” He looked down had his right wrist “Then in about, an hour and a half now. We will have you guys take group pictures together. Everyone in Germany loves you guys here and why not have two big groups show some love to the people but give them what they want? Yeah!” 

The girls and I looked at each other “Excuse me, sir, what do you mean?” Nia was saying what we all were thinking. “The people want to see the group interact with one another. Is that fine with you guys?” Just nodding our heads yes. “All right, follow me!” He took us to a room, from the outside we could hear voices. 

He knocked on the door. “Boys there here”  He opened the door. The girls and I looked at each other. “So who’s going in first?” I asked “I say you G, You are a singer” “Yeah, G” “ What the fuck, why.?” You are the face of the group. Now go show your face first” I walked in with a fake smile on my face. The first person I see he a tall, guy with long brown hair. His smile was to die for and I only looked for 3 seconds before taking my eyes off him. 

The rest of the girls followed right next to me in a line. “Now I want you all to mix in with each other. Bill, Tom, Georg, and Gustav. Meet G, Jade, Alex and Nia. We will see you all in an hour” I looked around the room, It was like an office space. A big round table that fit all 8 of us. Everyone got into a spot with a person we didn’t know. The brown-haired boy sat on the right of me.

“Am Bill!” He had the biggest smile on his face and his hair was as big as mine. He sat on my left “I always wanted to meet you all. You guys are amazing!” He finished “So are you! Your voice is beautiful by the way”  I feel like I could talk to him for days without getting bored. “Do you only go by G?” “Yeah it is a stage name. And It is easier to say for people” 

It took a while but everyone started talking to one another. It felt so good being about the talk to people who have the same passion that you do. We related to each other, not even an hour later and it felt like we had been friends for over years. Less than an hour. 

I found out his name, Georg. He was talking to Jade about the animal when she brought up my name. “Oh G loves animals, She has like 5 dogs. Right G?” “Oh what's their name?” Georg had asked me. “Princess, Prince, Zoey and Zion. I only have 4.” I laughed, he was looking at me the whole time I was talking or anytime we talked. He would always be the one asking me questions. I just felt so open with him, I didn't know how to act. He made me feel somewhat. A safe way but I didn’t know if I wanted to get too close, just to keep out of making a fool of myself. 

Right when I finished laughing with Georg the door opened. We didn't stop talking, we were all having a good time. “Okay guys, It's time to go,” Addy told us “It's off the the shot. Now would you all like to take different cars or take the bus?” Max asked. “We will take the same bus, I have so much to ask Alex” Bill and Alex were talking the whole time. They seem like they would become best friends by the end of the day. 

I made sure everyone got a chance to walk out the door before I did. Georg stayed behind me. “You can go first,” I told him “No it's fine, please go first” “I really hope we aren't gonna fight about this” “We are not, because you will be going first” I walked out signing. I walked out to see Max and Addy waiting for us. We walked ahead of them. I looked behind me to see them talking, I tried to listen but I could hear nothing with Alex and Bill talking loudly. 

We went through the first to get to the bus. There were fans everywhere. Since Georg and I stayed behind a little, we ended a stuck. With people trying to get on the bus. “Hold my hand, I will push us through this,” He told me and I told his hand and made it on the bus, safely.

I hoped you like it!

[windvexer]

Hi, I would say I've been practicing witchcraft for over a few years. Obviously I still don't know much, haven't experienced much, having confusion with spirits at the moment.

What would you say to someone who's afraid of making mistakes and is always caught up in the details of preparing before hand with multiple back up plans and usually ends up severely panicking when confused or when a slight thing goes sideways?

I'm aware it's impossible to avoid making mistakes but dumb anxiety bird brain seems to think that it justifies avoiding it entirely and moving on, or desperately trying every other possible alternative when the real solution could be as simple as opening the window. What say you, Chicken?

I'd say,

what a lovely opportunity to explore this facet of yourself.

Perhaps presumptuous of me but I doubt that this tendency begins and ends for you at witchcraft.

It seems as if your natural inclinations create for you a complex spiderweb of ever-vibrating strands, and when the moment comes you have trouble knowing which line to walk down.

There is nothing wrong with that. Imagine having so many strands in a web! A lovely gift, perhaps. Maybe less so, if it seems that there are too many to navigate.

We all know the first answer is "get therapy," which is a boring answer because it's tantamount to "fix your anxiety," which yes, we all know that would be best. That being said:

Consider working with spirits which have a keen sense for navigation. Animal saints, we might call them, because that sounds cool. No need for two-way communication; veneration and asking for help will do. Helpful figures might include Salmon and Spider.

Reframe

When I was a kid I went to church, and churches are big on how to church, do you know what I mean? What the sermons should be like, what worship should be like, and so on.

Church first taught me about the art of performative spirituality. My first church was a really big one. The worship team had rehearsals with an AV guy. Coordinated choir outfits, a full band on stage. The reverb fades out and the pastor is ready with the first prayer. They practiced all week. It was a religious set - DJing the Holy Word.

Polished, smooth, pretty. And embarrassing when someone got it wrong. I still remember when the guitarist's sheet music was out of order. Thirty seconds of social agony up on stage while the bassist helped him figure out the order of songs. Awkward smiles from the rest of the band. The pastor politely folded his hands. Twenty years later I remember this - he messed up the performance.

At that time, I didn't know there was anything different. I don't mean that I didn't understand that there could be smaller bands, or no band. Or different kinds of sermons, or smaller stages - or no stage!

I mean that I didn't understand that worship could be nonperformative. I didn't know that there was a way to do it that wasn't about what was being presented.

Do you ever feel that watchful eye of judgement on you, anon? Are you ever the guitarist fumbling with sheet music, with three hundred souls politely waiting for you to get on with the show?

Their show, not yours - you are the performer.

Yes, I think many people feel this way when it comes to magic. I think many witches perform spells, and feel judged and watched when they fumble.

When I was still young - but a little older than when the guitarist had his music out of order - I heard some men of the church talking.

"When I grew up, all the churches were really slick. Not a second of time in-between the acts. You could tell they practiced. The first time I went to a worship group and the leader stopped to tune his guitar, I got whiplash."

I asked my dad what that meant. He explained to me that some worship groups are more casual, like a conversation instead of a show.

You'd think that such a little comment so many years ago wouldn't mean much. But now, to me, these words still ring true.

I get caught up in the performance of spell work, sometimes. I'm not alone, after all. I call the spirits. I'm the worship leader, really. I'm the bottleneck, the gatekeeper. The experience moves with me, though me. I've called you all here today -

Called them here for what?

Not for the intent of the spell. The decision that comes before that.

I've called them here for what?

So they can be an audience staring at me on stage? So I can display my practiced performance? So that they will get a show?

Or, have I called them to me to be my fellowship? To participate in a conversation? To whisper loving affirmations to each other as I stop to tune my guitar?

Have I invited them because my performance is worthless without them to observe it, or because my worship is enriched when they participate in it?

Sometimes I get befuddled. I work spells with a lot of content - things need to happen in a certain order. Too many thoughts hit my head at once, and for that I have one cure:

Whiplash.

I stop, and sit, and gather my thoughts. If I'm anxious about the spell, I tell them. If I don't know what to do next, I tell them. If it doesn't feel right, I tell them.

They didn't come because they're my audience. They came because they're my fellowship, my friends. My family.

And whiplash creates beautiful cracks in the performance for their love to seep through.

Reframing spells from performances to communication doesn't cure anxiety. But from time to time, I think it's worth challenging the foundational perspective upon which we have built our craft. Is witchcraft a series of actions, a mechanical toy which will go off the rails if you are not a perfect engineer? Or is it taking time to tune the guitar?

Each of us gets to decide.

[umbranocturnes]

Shelby Vickers

Character introduction below! Shelby is one of my side characters from my historical-fiction story set in World War Two. I absolutely love him, he has become one of my favorite characters recently and I want to draw him more. This is the first thing I have drawn since December of last year so I am rusty and my art style is a mess but of well I am trying to improve!

This is a long post below! It contains all his background I have so far, he's not a completed character yet though since I am still developing the story.

TW for some heavy content: abusive family, homophobia, Biphobia, and general bigoted time period views, not from Shelby but his parents! There's also a small amount of 'bury your gays' trope in Shelby's story or at least 'bury your bisexuals' but it's a war novel. I am a LGBTQIA+ creator and I have plenty of LGBT+ characters that live in my stories so take it for what you will.

Shelby Vickers was born 27th of January 1899, in a rural lakeside village near the coast of Ireland to an Irish father and a French-Scottish mother. He has two older brothers, Anthony and Sean Vickers.

He was raised in a predominantly Catholic household, his father being Catholic while his mother was protestant. They often ended up quarreling with each other while the children are off playing and can't hear. Their family lives off the land trading and buying from locals in their small town where almost everyone knows each other. Shelby was always an outdoorsy kid, he loves going hunting and fishing with his father and brothers. He also enjoys going into the town's center with his brothers often finding himself getting into mischief with them. He loves both his eldest brothers dearly especially Anthony who he learns a lot from and looks up to. His favorite activities are swimming and fishing at the lake their home being so close to the lakeside. He attended the local school and Catholic Church where he was a choir boy. His mother started teaching him French from a young age on top of the traditional Gaelic and English he was being taught in school so he could understand his French relatives. Even as a youngster Shelby could tell not everything was perfect in their family home and that there was tension between his eldest brother Anthony and their father despite their family being close. Whenever he would ask his older brother about why he would always kindly be told, "I'll tell you when you're older".

When Shelby was around 14 years old he began to realize he wasn't just attracted to the local girls his age and started taking an interest in some of his fellow choir boys a few years his senior. Around this time his tight knit family was also beginning to fall apart when it was discovered Shelby's eldest brother Anthony was gay. He started facing more abuse from their father despite his mother's pleading . Their relationships became strained but Shelby never lost his closeness with his brother in fact growing closer with him after Anthony discovered Shelby secretly kissing one of the local choir boys. Eventually despite his eldest brother's protection, their father found out about Shelby's bisexuality from a local busy body gossiping about how he always hangs out with the choir boys and had a "queer demeanor" about him. Shelby's father caught him and a young man hiding out together in an old fishing shack along one of the lake tributaries and grew enraged. He sent the boy away and shouted at Shelby leaving him to walk home crying and when his mother found out what happened she got into a screaming match with his father pissed at how her sons were being treated. From then on their family wasn't the same. Shelby's father became an alcoholic after his sons "destroyed their family's reputation" and grew more abusive and distant. Their mother began living in fear of his abuse, her sons having to step up to fight off their father an help take care of her and the home.

--WWI--

At the outbreak of WWI Anthony is drafted into the British army along with his boyfriend Hughes and is sent off to war. A year into the war their family receives a letter that Shelby's eldest brother was killed in action. This did little to phase their father but devastated their mother causing further conflict. Shelby is heartbroken by the news and retreats further into himself becoming closer to his brother Sean in their grief. Only a few months following the death of his older brother Sean is also called off to fight, leaving Shelby and his mother at the mercy of his father. His father continued to be abusive towards the both of them, berating Shelby telling him he and Anthony made their family a disgrace to the whole town due to how they turned out.

Things kept growing worse and Shelby finally had enough running away from home and enlisting in the British Army at age 16 to fight in the Great War. He lies about his age to join alongside some of his friends and the other boys from their small town. His mother flees to live with her sister back in Scotland, his father dying a few months later from alcohol poisoning. Shelby would eventually get word that his mother died from illness in 1917, weakened by stress. His remaining brother Sean would never make it home from the war. In WWI Shelby is placed in a unit alongside Arthur Steel, William Dinsmore, and Alfred Hackett who he would grow close to, along with some other men including an odd foreign vampire named Valerius. Shelby is thoroughly traumatized from the Great War being subjected to horrific conditions, terrifying weapons, and seeing many of his friends die including William.

-- The Interwar Years --

Following the end of the Great War Shelby becomes displaced not truly having a home to go back to in Ireland. He decides to leave traveling to visit his aunt in Scotland for a while then using the last of his money to get onboard a ship and head for France. There he goes to live with his grandparents for a change of scenery but falling in love with the French countryside he decides to stay permanently. He finds work at a local vineyard eventually saving up enough money to get a apartment. Quickly he developed quite a reputation for being a flirt hooking up with locals he meets late at night in bars he frequently hops between. The relationships never last long often fleeting one-night stands though gossip has it he tends to keep the company of men longer. He becomes a well known local heart breaker and womanizer it is also no secret he sleeps around with men. Shelby lives a relatively normal life albeit a reckless carefree one, until the growing rise of Fascism takes hold of Europe.

--WWII--

When France falls to the Nazis between May and June of 1940 Shelby takes up arms with the French resistance heading underground to fight the Nazis. Throughout WWII Shelby works with French resistance networks and would later on be reconnected with on of his old service buddies from the Great War now head of a splinter branch of the Special Operations Executive in Britain, Alfred Hackett. Alfred sends for the SOE to recruit Shelby into the French section, the Prosper Network. Being a polyglot, resourceful, and quick thinking his skills are very valuable. He works with the Prosper Network and helps to fight with and aid local French Resistance. Later on when potential turncoats in the Prosper Network lead to the Gestapo capturing most of its agents Shelby narrowly escapes with his life.

He tries to rally the scattered remains of the network and the French Resistance but to no avail. He ends up being captured by the Gestapo in a raid trying to assist other resistance leaders in escaping. While being transported in a truck it is attacked by seemingly two German commanders who kill the surrounding nazis and help assist in getting them to safety. When they make it to the underground the man tells Shelby his name is Setheroth and he's a SOE agent, he warns him to leave while he still can and quickly leaves the area himself. Shelby helps the others escape but does not follow them to safety instead he decides to join up with the Free French Forces under De Gaulle.

He fights alongside the Free French Army in the Sicily campaign and after a particularly brutal battle against the Germans when his whole unit is nearly wiped out he links up with he British troops bumping into another old war friend Arthur now ranked Captain. Arthur and his lieutenant Walter are called back to Britain as part of the preparations for Operation Overlord they bring Shelby along and once back in Britain Arthur helps to reinstate Shelby's position within the British army now Captain rank. Arthur and Shelby are given the task of helping to prepare for Operation Overlord by training troops and Arthur is promoted to Major, he tasks Shelby with helping to train and run a base full of recruits. There he meets a young charismatic troublesome private named Wesley Sharpe who is beloved by his fellow soldiers.

During his time helping Arthur train the recruits his reputation and history follows him back to Britain bringing him into trouble with fellow commissioned officers and facing more discrimination for being openly bisexual. Many officers refuse to work with Shelby some even refusing to shake hands not wanting to be seen with him. While on base training recruits, private Sharpe also takes an interest in him and keeps inserting himself into his daily tasks and routines. It's clear he is flirting with Shelby and is a lot like him when he first moved to France so he tries to keep a professional distance between them given their ranks. However, Wesley makes it difficult and eventually weasels his way into his life and he ends up falling in love with him and tries to keep the affair a secret not wanting to endanger Wesley's military career or his own despite Wesley's tendency towards not being very discrete. Arthur ends up finding out but covers for them despite thinking it a bad idea and breaking army laws on multiple levels.

During Operation Overlord Shelby is part of the invasion force with Wesley and Arthur. They fight their way up through France where they are pinned down in really heavy fighting and during one of the skirmishes Wesley is shot by a sniper dropping dead. This rattles Shelby to the core and makes him completely lose his focus having not felt such horrible loss since he lost his brothers. In an almost suicidal move he runs closer to enemy lines throwing grenades into the German positions allowing the allies to advance. During the fighting he's shot through the right lung completely and collapses. Arthur and the unit's medic Bram Faulkner barely save his life and he's taken to a medical tent where Arthur visits him later when he's conscious. He thanks him for his efforts but knows they were spurred on by a nothing left to lose mentality. This instability combined with his injuries and age leads Arthur to make the choice to send Shelby back to Britain where he will be suspended from active duty for the foreseeable future until he recovers. This sends Shelby flying into a grief driven rage demanding he be allowed to keep fighting and after shouting at each other Arthur leaves him no choice.

Shelby returns to Britain parting with Arthur on a slightly uneven note, and Shelby takes with him a couple of Wesley's old things he wanted to leave to him. Back in Britain Shelby spirals becoming a heavy smoker and a alcoholic just like his father who he tried hard not to become. At his lowest point he's found by Hugh his eldest brother Anthony's old boyfriend who promised he would look after him if Anthony were to ever be killed. He tries to support Shelby however he can offering him to stay in his flat with him for a while and they catch up reliving memories about Shelby's brother. Shelby goes on one last mission towards the end of the war along with some of his friends as part of a recovery unit to save the man who saved several of them as a SOE spy now trapped in Germany. With the help of his friends old and new Shelby slowly learns how to live with grief and all the trauma that comes with living through two wars and manages to turn his life around towards the better becoming more stable after the end of the war.

------

Trivia:

Shelby has been arrested several times over the years, 3 times on "indecency charges" where twice he was given a slap on the wrist and the 3rd time he spent 10 days in jail before Arthur could post his bail. He also spent a night in jail after the war for punching a constable for making a snide remark about him being Irish. He is let go the next morning having claimed to be 'drunk out of his mind'.

Shelby loves fancy confectioner chocolates especially different types of truffles.

Shelby is a great singer and can also dance pretty well. He occasionally tap dances getting a laugh out of his friends.

[omalahsocs]

@vampiremood not sure if this'll fit into the notes cause it might end up getting long so Imma just toss it under a read more so it doesn't clog dashes ^_^;;

Sean was my first LaSombra and he's a bit a of a bean. I love him dearly. He was a choir boy actually. Born far enough back that it was semi common place for families with lots of money and multiple kids to send one of their younger children to the church because it's one less mouth to feed, it makes the family look good and (bonus) they now no longer have to worry about one more person inheriting in the family will.

Sean actually was devout even before he joined the church so in his eyes this honestly worked out well for him. He -liked- having a more simple and pious life. He fully planned on living out a life of celibacy and prayer 🙏

And then his Sire came along. When the night was clear and bright he could see from his window all the way down to the shoreline where she was walking like a ghost. She was beautiful and she was the first thing he saw outside the church that gave him a desire to look twice and wonder if he could worship something new.

He snuck out at night to find her and when he looked close enough he saw she didn't look like a ghost might be expected. He asked if he could draw her and she was enchanted. The way that he looked at her made her feel like she held a whole new type of power (but that's a story for another day).

It was a little more than a month before she Embraced him and led him away from the church because he couldn't enter it anymore. He treated her like gold and she treated him like a pawn. It took him a while to realize that the things she could do, he could learn if he had time away from her to stretch his wings so to speak. So little by little he learned to bend shadows and enhance his strength, he honed his skills with pencils and paint to make sure she never got tired of him, and then learned to play the violin so he could compose for her.

She was never really going to be satisfied with his adoration, it would never really be enough. And someone might have given him the idea that he would never truly be free until she was gone. Fighting back against her was harder physically than it was mentally, mostly because the things he learned were picked up through watching and catching snippets from conversations in Elysium as older kindred bragged. But LaSombra are nothing if not determined. Sean staked her down and found a beautiful spot to lay her to rest in the sunlight, watching for as long as he could before shutting the trapdoor to the dug out bunker he'd made in advance.

When he woke again the next night, he found what remained of her ashes and spread them in a pretty garden full of nightshade, leaving behind a necklace in the flowers to implicate the Toreador who owned the home.

He lives in a small haven far from the cities hustle and bustle, and he still occasionally paints her portrait. He'll tell anyone who asks just who she was and how much he misses her. There was no proof to link him to her death, even after the Toreador was found innocent. As far as anyone is concerned, she just disappeared. Probably into the ocean that she loved so much, and he'll never tell anyone otherwise.

[slayingstan]

CHICAGO

| I was surprised to see, that a woman like that was really into me. |

Riri's POV: 

Riri had been in Wakanda for a couple weeks now, she was there helping Shuri develop ways to advance the 'Midnight Angels" suits. She has a habit of singing when she works and she has been in choir for years. Even though she doesn't sing many church songs anymore her voice is still amazing.

For the past couple days she's been singing tons of Michael Jackson. Every Era. She has been making Shuri listen to it as well, Shuri didn't listen to a lot of Pop, she enjoyed playing instruments instead. She played violin, piano, and electric guitar. Yet, Riri didn't know that. The constant exercise of her fingers came with many perks, but one was being able to type extremely fast. She has to invent a new keyboard for herself because of how fast she types, but once she was finished with her daily work she always took Riri to her wing of the palace. There was tons of space. 

As they walked into Shuri's highly decorated room, the princess asked "What's that song you've been singing."

Riri couldn't answer this question, she had been singing a lot. "I don't know? I've been singing all week."

Shuri huffed, and she let out the most vicious screech that contained some of the lyrics of Chicago by Michael Jackson. "I was dun dunnn to seee, la la la into meee."

Within seconds Riri was coughing and her jaw was locking from laughing so hard.

"Please don't ever sing again! I don't even recognize whatever the hell you just sung." Riri laughed through her sentence.

"I'm going to play it, since you seem to not know. Its so simple Riri." Shuri rolled her eyes as Riri continued to laugh at her efforts.

"Come now." Shuri guided Riri to an outlined wall with a little screen on it, she held her Kimoyo beads up to it and it opened. It was a room filled with instruments. Guitars hung on the walls, along side keyboards, as well as assorted records. On the floor was a drum set, and a purple Steinway piano that was surrounded by velvet ropes, and a couple of swivel chairs.

"Sit." Shuri looked at the amazed face of Riri as she spoke.

"Where did you get all of this? Do you play all of this? How much is all of this worth." Riri began to flood with questions.

"You didn't answer my question, I'm not answering yours." Shuri spoke as she grabbed a 1961 Vintage Stratocaster off of the wall, along with the a cord. 

"You play that don't you?" Riri looked to her for an answer and Shuri just smiled.

Shuri plugged it into a speaker, and sat next to it in a swivel chair and she began to tune it. 

"Who taught you to do all of this, you amaze me everyday." Riri questioned.

"My brother was a musical prodigy, most of this stuff is his. He needed a place to put it, so I let him keep all these things here in return for full access to it all. He taught me how to read music, and play just about everything. I play everything in here except that piano." There was a tinge of sadness as she spoke and looked over to the grand piano. She felt like she could still see and hear her brother playing it, now the piano sat untouched behind velvet ropes. Never to be played again.

Riri sighed softly, the two sat in a comfortable silence. Understanding was never a challenge between them two.

Suddenly Shuri plucked a string of the guitar, and it let out a roaring noise. Riri jumped a bit. Shuri played a quick warm up melody. 

"I haven't played guitar in a while, I hope I'm not rusty. Now time to play that song." Shuri played some chords that were recognizable, as she tried to get an idea of the song.

"Alright here we go." She began to play the chorus of 'Chicago' and Riri instantly caught on.

"This girl she had to be, an angel sent from heaven just for me. She said she didn't have no man raised the kids the very best she can." Riri sung with the guitar. Shuri began to sing the ad libs, the only part she seemed to be good at.

Shuri decided to throw in a guitar solo, purly for the purpose to showing off. She played until she noticed she cut one of her fingers and started to get blood on the guitar. 

"That was a sign for you to stop being such a show off." Riri joked. 

Shuri hastily wrapped her finger with bandage, and used a cleaning wipe on the body of the guitar. She laughed at Riri's joke. 

"Eh, I don't think I will ever stop trying to one up you. Let's get out of here. " Shuri smiled.

Shuri grabbed Riri's hand and lead her out of the room back into the main bedroom.

[seabreeze2022]

2023 Bahamas Cruise, Part 18, Apr. 12. Weather hold on Long Island.

What do you do when the water is this clear and calm? Jump in! Bahamas are not all beaches, pina coladas and “green flash” sunsets. After these two flat calm days, the next two days we were surrounded by storms from a stalled cold front. Miami flooded with 8” of rain in two days. Yet, we never really got rain.

Easter Sunday, I dropped off Nancy at the closest dinghy dock to St. Joseph’s Anglican/Episcopal church in Thompson Bay. You can just barely see it in the background behind her. Around fifty people were in attendance. She had met most of them during our time on the Island. A much more reserved service, than last years service in Black Point. No tambourines, no kids choir, and a third the time. Fifty/fifty men and women, where Black Point was a high majority of women.

After dropping Nancy off, I swung by the Thompson Bay Yacht Club. Cruisers over time have set up a small picnic area on shore here, dubbed TBYC. No one was here. Only two of us are anchored in the bay now. Then I headed back to the boat for boat chores. Took the trash to shore. Filled the water tank using our water maker. Trickle charged the start battery and fixed a thing or two.

Nancy called on the VHF radio for a pick up at Basil’s dock. Once we got back to the boat, we lifted the anchor and headed north. Great wind from the west for sailing on a beam reach. Nancy baked bread while the boat was heeled 10-15 degrees to starboard.

Fresh Coconut cinnamon bread!

Just before the two loaves of Coconut cinnamon bread came out of the oven we sailed over the Tropic of Cancer northbound. Coordinates are displayed on the top left of the chart plotter, N23 26.031 Actual Longitude of the Tropic of Cancer North 23 degrees 26 minutes and 10 seconds. We anchored off of Simms Settlement on Long Island. That is where you see Nancy jumping off the boat. She paddleboared along the shore. While I made water on the boat.

Nancy caught mid flight playing around and cooling off some.

The next day we dinghied to Simms Government Dock where the mail boat comes in. With a west wind blowing the dinghy against the sharp rocks. I sent Nancy on walk about, while I oared around in the dinghy. She visited the prison and several graveyards. The prison and most buildings in town had outhouses near them. Not sure if either the outhouse or prison have been used in recent history. Think Mayberry RFD, Bahama out island style.

Just before we left for shore another monohull sailboat pulled into OUR anchorage. This is OUR anchorage damn it! As soon as we got back to the boat we pulled anchor and went north around the next point. I had gotten lazy and forgot to check the charts. We went from 7 ft. depth to 5 ft. in a couple of seconds. Oops! I went to idle and started the turn back to deep water. Too late…..squeakkkkk. We had skidded to a stop in pure white sand. Quick check of the shore for current tide. Looks kind of low. Pull up weather app. we are close to low. Had this been a sailing YouTube channel. All sorts of drama could be made up. Water was flat calm. First dropped the 55 pound anchor and twenty feet of chain that weighs 1 lb. per foot. The chain laid over the top of the anchor in a pile. Had some snacks and a beer. Went swimming. Walked chest deep around the boat. Nancy jumped off the boat and hit bottom doing so. Wind changed 180 degrees and picked up enough to move the boat when we floated free. So pulled in the pile of chain with the anchor suspended above the sand. Couple of hours later…..we floated free after dark. Waited until 7 ft. showed on the depth finder. Then drop the anchor and chain, then went to bed. Next morning we snorkeled around the boat.

This blue tip crab put up his dukes, when I stopped by. Reviewing weather, anchorages and possible plans we decided to sail back to Thompson Bay. Then rent a car and tour the north end of the island. Wind was on our nose, so we only sailed an hour; then motored to Thompson Bay. In between rain storms we took 4 jerry jugs to Long Island Petroleum for diesel and gas. Had a great talk with Walter Fox the part owner.

On Wednesday when the weather seemed to break. We hiked over the island to the ocean side, then south along the beach for a mile. Then back across the island to the “Sou’ side” (Sound side) of the island. Round trip walking was a little over 3 miles. We were hot and tired with nothing but photos to show for our beach hike. We are surprised that little to no shells on the reef side of the island. Today though we were both looking for Ambergris. Found lots of tar balls, but no ambergris.

On the way to the dinghy we stopped at the “Sou’ side” bar for a cold Kalik beer and cracked chicken. Then back to the boat.

Rainbow over Salt Pond at the end of the day.

S/V Sea Breeze, Thompson Bay, Long Island, Bahamas.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

We snapped one of our first selfies back when we were dating. A long, long time ago. We met, though, years before that moment. Maybe by even more than a decade.

To hear my mom tell it, Kimmer had her eye on me way way back in Sunday school. I think, though, that's just my mom retconning what's otherwise two high energy kids existing in proximity who naturally recognize members of their own ADHD tribe.

Now, neither of us went on to formal diagnoses but my boy scout troop leader did tell my mom I was "hyper".

She was not amused.

And there's no question I drove various grade school teachers to distraction with my behavior. Absolutely. My first grade, fifth grade, and sixth grade teachers especially, I won't lie.

I can't tell you what Kimmer's experience was, but I'm sure she wouldn't be surprised that she was characterized as high energy in polite company. By today's standards, she seemed an extrovert. She was definitely inquisitive, adventurous, confident, funny. She was quick. Pretty much all the kinds of things you have to be in order to keep getting into trouble at school.

So we were birds of a feather. And we did run in overlapping circles growing up in church.

My enduring memories of Kimmer are two-fold. First, a mental still photograph of her in my mind. It's a moment just outside the doors to the chapel at First United Methodist Church, the building with the dome next to the Columbia Tower on fifth between Marion and Columbia. I was with whoever I was with walking to the chapel for kids church when we turned the corner and there she was in front of the doors. My memory didn't capture why she was there, who she was waiting for. It just captured the image. She's wearing a white dress with faded pink crosshatches. She's smiling. Not at us... she's just smiling. 

The second memory's a later one, closer to high school, I think. It's more of a video memory with motion and sound. We're both at some youth event on the other side of Aurora Avenue from the Woodland Park Zoo. We're playing touch football and, at some point during the game she rips my shirt pocket off my, you know, shirt.

So that happened.

Followed by accusations, protestations, deflections and so on.

Of course.

There are other memories we share growing up. But in general I think that's just what they are: shared memories. Not necessarily ones focused on each other (unless my mom was right about Kimmer from the very beginning, of course 😉). Otherwise, we share memories of youth group, of dances, of overnight conferences (lots of stories from the one in particular), as well as the boys and girls choirs we were in plus that dance group I think she was in. 

All 'n all...

Just a coupla high energy kids growing up in proximity like particles in a particle accelerator speeding in opposite directions along the same circular path.

Or something.

Anyway...

We snapped maybe our first selfie the old fashioned way in a fun house mirror when we were dating.

It was a long, long time ago...

But we've known each other much longer ago than that.

☺️❤️❤️❤️

[shakespearerants]

15 Questions 15 Minutes

Thank you for the tag @neverland-in-space ! I already did this like 10 years ago (gefühlt) but I love talking about myself so here we go again 😈.

1. Are you named after anyone?

No, but my parents are The Epitome of scatterbrained scientists so. It is very possible I am and they just never told me.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Uhhhhhh good question I don't remember. I almost cried when @freizusein picked me up in the middle of my Odyssee to grant me heat asylum in her apartment a few weeks ago, does that count?

3. Do you have kids?

I call my houseplants kiddies. In other words no.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

No, I don't, but people think I do bc apparently I have a tone?????? Please know if I ever asked you something sarcastically and you thought it was an excellent joke - I was serious and I'm still waiting for my answer.

5. What sports do you play/have played?

Team sports? Soccer in elementary school. Am not a fan of collective excersice unless we're talking (ballroom) dancing.

6. What's the first thing you notice about someone?

VIBES. My Freitagsstammtisch can attest to that I've been complaining about someone at uni all year based on a 5 sec interaction and it took me multiple days to even notice they have very very prominent tattoos.

7. Eye colour?

Greenish - brownish.

8. Special talents?

Ohhh boy. Charming older (as in your grandma older) women. Especially antiques dealers. Got a deal on some very nice brass pendants when I was in Leipzig the last time just by being me and looking a little bit sad. I was once gifted a whole ass diamond ring on the street by a woman wearing a fur coat in 35° weather. I have had MULTIPLE elderly women come up to me when I was walking the dog UNPROMPTED and tell me about their dog who recently died. Last time I went to my local antiques shop I was offered 100€ discount on a ring I was looking at within 5 mins of walking through the door, and I hadn't even brought up the price yet.

Also I am unfairly good at doing things, especially art related things, perfectly after watching someone do it once. Was very surprised in 4th grade when I realized not everyone can weave a whole 12cm Perlenarmband with design in 45 mins on their first try.

10. Where were you born?

In a town with a MASSIVE causewayed enclosure. I'm talking multiple trenches multiple ha crop mark visible over 3 different fields.

11. What are your hobbies?

Ceramics (looking at, sorting, reading about, counting, collecting thereof), churches (insert "I just think they're neat!" Meme here) (as in looking at them and usually grumbling about those damn neuzeitliche Umbauten), Adventures™ (can't leave the house without having one!), cooking, reading, painting, sketching, embroidery, I've made a resolution to get into making my own clothes, houseplants, writing.

12. Do you have pets?

I technically own a rabbit but she lives with my parents and younger siblings.

13. How tall are you?

Child sized according to the helpful measuring sticks at Ganzbeck.

14. Favourite subject in school?

Art, choir. For a very brief period of time maths.

15. Dream job?

Grabungsleitung of a really really big Forschungsgrabung on the Baustelle of the wannabe Lindners I went to school with. I want to see their faces when I tell them they can get their building privileges back in 5-10 years if they're extremely lucky. Let's leave the fact that I haven't even finished my bachelor's yet and really don't want to stay in academia out of this fantasy.

Tagging: @lachricola @evolutionsbedingt @freizusein @perchingowl @clueless-dullahan @frubeto and anyone else who wants to have a go!

[rylredrants]

Dads of GenX

Seems the theme for today is Dads.

One friend that I grew up with shared stories of the abuse she suffered at her dad’s hands… some of which I saw firsthand. We were teenagers getting ready for church at her house, in the bathroom doing our hair and makeup when he yelled at her and shoved her so hard that she flew behind me and landed in the bathtub… then we all went to church where he sang in the choir.

Another friend posted about the anniversary of his dad’s passing and how much he missed his parents because of how much they taught him and how well loved he was as a child.

We’re all roughly the same age (early/mid-40s, late GenX/Xennials) but I think our dads were of different generations. The good dad was a bit older than the abusive one and my friend with all the positive memories of his parents was adopted.

The abusive dad was close in age to my own ‘dad’ (and my father) which is what all of this brings to mind. The man who raised me and the man I recently discovered was my father were both in the military during the Vietnam War. My bio dad was a Soldier & Marine while the man who raised me joined the Navy to avoid combat. Their drugs of choice were also on the opposite end of the spectrum with the man who raised me smoking copious amounts of (then illegal) cannabis and my bio dad (allegedly) being a heavy meth user.

The man who raised me was the picture of undiagnosed depression, hiding in the garage and avoiding me when he wasn’t working on a construction site, slinging racist rhetoric, or screaming at fast food employees. If he’d been alive on January 6th I have no doubt that he’d have been at the Capitol in a red hat. In my childhood home, I was the one who did the yelling… yelling at my brother in the middle of the night for pissing on the toilet seat or at my ‘dad’ when I came home from school because we had DARE that day and I’d discovered a bag of weed in the pocket of the jacket I’d borrowed from him. I remember calling him by his name and yelling, “What the fuck is this shit?” as I flung the baggie at him.

I was eight.

I was constantly told how grown up and mature I was but in the times when I truly needed an adult there wasn’t one who I trusted to parent me. My ‘dad’ was afraid of me and/or so deeply resented my resemblance to my mother that when I looked straight at him with some hard or uncomfortable truth he literally ran away muttering, “I have to go to the bathroom” where he would lock himself away until I retreated to my bedroom.

As for my bio dad, I’m told he was a yeller as well. His widow said that she didn’t think he was made to be a parent and that he was constantly hollerin’ at the kids. She had 2 when they met and they later had my sister. My little sister, his youngest, described him as kind and loving but also that he could get scary at times.

My husband’s father is also a Vietnam Vet who survived a horrific incident that left him pretty badly wounded. His parents went in the opposite direction of my own, becoming deeply religious. Their home had no drugs or alcohol, only Jesus.

Oh! And a missionary trip to Africa with all 3 boys during a political coup that became its own trauma fuel for my husband and his brothers.

My childhood home included a pot-growing babysitter which was fitting because apparently my ‘dad’ was a dealer. Their disco cocaine days only slowed down after my baby brother walked into the living room with a McDonald’s straw up his nose because he’d seen them doing lines.

From where I sit now I can see all the trauma across my family tree.

I see the abuse my mother endured as the later-in-life accident in an otherwise ‘perfect’ Catholic family.  Her anorexic mother chided her about her weight and the magnet on the fridge read, “Holy Cow! Are you eating again!” with a small bell that alerted the household that the door had been opened.

I see the quiet acceptance of poverty from my ‘dad’ as the child of a teenaged mother whose bio dad abandoned them shortly after his birth… a mother who’d grown up picking cotton in the fields, a ‘rich Oakie because they had 2 mattresses for all dozen or so kids.’ And I wonder how much he heard as a child about the traumatic birth she experienced because breaking her hips to deliver him was the way it was done before C-sections. I can only wonder because they all passed away before I could begin asking these questions.

I see my bio dad’s family and the stories my living blood relatives have told of alcoholism, parental estrangement, murder/suicides, drug abuse and a host of Jerry Springer episode fodder. Add all of that to combat in Vietnam and it makes sense that he would self-medicate into an early grave.

I see it all and it makes sense, but none of that means they are forgiven for the way I grew up. You can’t forgive away that kind of deep damage.

And where I sit now, that also helps me understand why my own daughter cut me out of her life like she did. I understand her trepidation at reconnecting after her father’s suicide and the fact that no matter how many times I’ve said “I love you” to her since, she’s never said it back.

Do I expect forgiveness from her for everything she had to endure because of my own trauma? No.

You can’t forgive things like that away.

What I can hope for is that she’ll understand and accept that I know better now and I’m trying to do better. I will never be the mother she needed because I can’t go back in time. I can’t bring back the dead. I can’t fill the holes in her soul or mine that festered and grew because our parents didn’t have the tools to support us when we needed it most.

The best I can do from here is speak up and tell my story so that others don’t feel so alone in it. I can break the silence around the parts of our GenX/Xennial feral latchkey kid narrative that so many of us are only beginning to voice.

We were alone. Unparented. Abandoned by parents who were also very damaged people struggling to make sense of the world around them.

A world full of Vietnam veterans and the women back home who were suddenly told that being a wife and mother wasn’t enough.

It’s a wonder that so many of us have made it to middle age at all!