#there are so many beautiful beautiful things about the church which is why I love to be there

[kingofthewilderwest]

Moral Orel hit me in a sweet spot. I think it’s beautiful seeing fans on different paths discussing how the show touched them. I’ve seen people who’ve left the church, agnostics, atheists, and Christians all say the show spoke deeply to them. Of course the show’s black humor on religion offended many, especially before its last season aired, but I think the show’s resulting legacy - connecting to people who’ve both left and who’ve stayed - demonstrates successful nuance to how Moral Orel was crafted.

The show’s creators have said it’s not against religion per se, it’s against hypocrites. Even with the first season, I felt that and found appreciation (frankly, joy) for what was satirized. Here was a show speaking up, exaggerating, and lampooning the facets of Protestant American Christian culture I’ve vented about in confidence to relevant friends and family - without, like many modern shows which tackle this subject do, mocking followers themselves, faith itself, and suggesting to viewers one way of life is better than another, one group of people is (ex: intellectually) superior to another.

Some people have stepped away from Moral Orel and said, “This show comforted me when I left church,” or outright, “This show taught me there is no god.” And that’s not an unfair way to interact with Moral Orel because it doesn’t preach what you “should” do there (a sign of mature writing, really). I stepped away from Moral Orel and said, “This show comforted me in the areas I get frustrated,” which assuages my feelings and makes me more confident in my faith and place within culture.

I feel awkward in contemporary culture because I was raised with minimal secular exposure - daughter of a worship pastor, student at a private Christian school until high school. Meanwhile, in adulthood, I didn't attended church functions for over a dozen years. My group of friends have largely been non-Christians who hold negative opinions about the religion and don’t live remotely similar lifestyles to what I was raised with. I love what I've learned from them. Unfortunately, this also means the cultural building blocks that make me who I am seem shared by no one I'm around, which, even though I'm in my 30s, remains disorienting.

On the flipside, I'm the weirdo with the third eye in Christian spaces, too. I’m an ever-thirsty knowledge-seeker who strives to comprehend forbidden topics from all angles. I spent my twenties researching, questioning, rebuilding knowledge, and critically analyzing everything about the Bible. Church attendees and services feel painfully artificial, with mental blockers to topics I feel are critical to understand.

In either community I partake in, I feel “off.”

I’m grateful to have been raised by parents who didn’t pussyfoot around issues, with a father who deep-dives research. Discussions, delving, and digging into the hard stuff has always been fostered. My family spoke to pastors when we disagreed with their theology. I grew up around people who practiced passive acceptance, but my family was not that.

In the last year, I’ve returned more strongly to my faith and have been reintegrating with the Christian community. In some areas, my faith has grown and, humbly, I’ve learned much from peers. Despite stereotypes, I want to note that, in certain fields, the church community has always been deep and meticulous! And there are so many beautiful and uplifting areas in the church. But likewise there are those areas that get assumed, aren’t questioned, and aren’t… responded to well by questioning spirits. There have always been areas in the church culture I find disingenuous, foolish, illogical, limited, oversimplified, denialistic, or susceptible to hypocrisy and immorality. I’m not better than any person on this planet, but I’m rubbing shoulders with a community that has different blinders than I do, who don’t even consider asking the types of questions or seeking out the information I find necessary for a solidified faith.

Moral Orel disparages the toxic elements of Protestant culture, the misinterpretations, the artificial facades, the mindless assumptions, the poorly-hidden underbelly, all the areas Christian community can and does go wrong. It makes me feel justified feeling awkward in two worlds: someone for whom Christianity is deeply important, but someone whose mindset doesn’t jive with the rest of the town. Someone who can find and wants to find the best lessons outside of Christianity. Someone who believes in questioning, rethinking constantly, raising her eyebrows at common notions within church culture, and striving for the actual love, sincerity, dedication, and goodness our faith should be based on.

[imbecominggayer]

How To Scare Your Readers

tw: mentions of murder and other horror media, its not specific or gorey but I just wanted to mention it

Today is one my hardest asks as it is a highly individual process to freaking out your audience with @differentnighttale asking: "How do you write horror, and how do you write it good nail biting and very unsettling type of horror."

Specifically, we are focusing on supernatural horror and dark fantasy. Due to the fact that there are numerous ways of scaring an audience, I'm going to focus on more diverse and interesting ways to freak out the readers. There are obvious tricks like "focus on the tactile senses" and stuff like that but let's cover something not as cliche!

Again, there are many ways to instill horror.

One: Combine Beauty And The Macabre

While this is a common trick seen in visual horror such as the works of Junji Ito or Midsommar, it's also an important and useful element in other beloved horror media.

This can be useful for a myriad of reasons.

The ability to combine the fantastical beauty of the scenery with death or the lovingly detailed imagery of a victimized body might be just the thing to elevate the scenery and visuals.

It also works to surprise your readers. If you are reading horror, you expect the murder and terror to appear in dark hospitals and obviously disgusting places. But what if the horror was in a cherry blossom field? In the church? In the character's childhood bedroom during the sunset?

It follows the perversion of the familiar. Most people internalize certain environments are seperated from society which might assist you if you are going for that specific type of horror. BUT! If you have horror in the supermarket, in the coziest little cottage, in the beauty.

TWO: Focus On A Specific Brand Of Horror

This is especially important for horror that is based off of pop culture spooks such as ghosts, ghouls, witches, zombies, and werewolfs.

Doing some research into why these monsters have survived in the public mind and what exactly is frightening abou them can influence your settings, characters, and horror.

There is horror about isolation.

There is horror about losing yourself.

There is horror about the female body.

There is horror about puberty.

There is horror about gender dysphoria.

There is horror about everything.

Decide what is the core fear you are proding at.

THREE: Be Ambiguous

Readers are comforted by linear stories with a beginning, clearly laid out morality, and a clear cut ending which provides either a happy ending or a sad ending.

Messing up any one of these things can lead to your story haunting the minds of your audience for a long time.

Midsommar is constantly debated about over if the ending is happy or sad.

Joker(2019), a thriller but not a horror, is infamous for it's amazing usage of hallucination and delusion to tell a non-linear story with a confusing ending.

Leaving the ending, villain, characters, or plot ambiguous and not clearly detailed might elevate your horror :)

FOUR: Use Your Own Fears

When you write about what scares you, that natural fear tends to radiate into your writing more naturally :)

This fear can be a lot of things from the specific phobia of bugs to the fear of being mistreated by a loved one.

Conclusion:

I hope I gave you some interesting advice that you haven't heard before @differentnighttale

p.s: at what point does something become "Mature"? I did mention "murder" throughout my post somewhat frequently but I never went into specific detail so I can't tell if it's "Mature" or not?

If it is mature and I mislabeled it then I can edit it to be "Mature"

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Three.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky get closer. Your choice only gets harder.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au.

Word Count - 6.4k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Author's Note - angels, i can only apologise for the wait!! i've had some stuff going on, and i was on vacation, so this has taken a while. thank you so much for your patience, kindness and support on Honey Girl - it means everything.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! i will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sunlight seeps through the stained glass windows, murmured chatter echoing off the stone walls around you.

You smooth down your dress and adjust your bracelet, smiling at the rare sight of your family and friends all gathered together in one place. Your parents are sat on either side of you, all of you eagerly awaiting the beginning of this exciting occasion.

Man, you love weddings. You always have. So much happiness and joy in one short day, everyone excited about the possibility of eternal love.

You're still sat waiting when you realise, with quiet uncertainty, that you're not sure whose wedding this is. All of your family is here, as well as many of your friends. So why do you feel so confused all of a sudden?

The Priest gestures for all of the guests to stand just as the first notes of the Wedding March begin to reverberate around the room. You turn around, craning your neck to try and get a glimpse of the bride.

You don't know her, but she's... beautiful. Long, dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, white silk dress hugging her frame perfectly, accentuating every dip and curve. She has kind eyes, warm and brown, and a blinding smile that's infectious and dazzling. Her skin glows in the stained glass sunlight, illuminating her in an ethereal radiance. She has a beauty that belongs on the cover of a magazine, or on the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel.

You eagerly turn back towards the altar to find out who her lucky groom is. He has his back to you, dark suit stretched across his broad shoulders. He turns, and you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips.

It's Bucky.

You're panicking, suddenly. You want to scream, shout, run over to them and object in any way possible. Your Mom grabs your hand tightly from one side, as your Dad does the same on the other.

"Mama, I have to-"

"You can't, sweetheart. It's not fair."

"You made your choice," your Dad says kindly, not an ounce of malice in his voice. "Now you have to let him make his."

White hot tears drip down your cheeks as your chest rises and falls with frantic frustration. This isn't how you wanted things to go. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The lights in the church are suddenly too bright, the wooden pews too hard. There's an incessant knocking noise coming from somewhere in front of you, loud and overwhelming. You swear someone's shouting your name in the distance, among all of the chaos.

"Honey? It's Bucky. Are you okay?"

Why is he asking if you're okay? Of course you're not okay, you're in this living nightmare.

Nightmare.

You're having a nightmare.

You wake with a startled gasp, cheeks wet and warm, sweat dripping down your back. The knocking hasn't stopped, in fact, now it's even louder.

"Sugar? Are you in there? Can you let me in?"

It's Bucky. Bucky's here.

You throw yourself out of bed and race through your apartment, swinging open the door. Bucky is stood on the other side, still in his navy plaid pyjama pants, sweater thrown over himself haphazardly. You look down at yourself and see that you're only wearing an old t shirt, legs bare and feet cold on the wooden floor.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, stepping forward into your space. "I had this horrible feeling. It was like... like I was panicking. I knew it wasn't me so I figured it must have been you. What's wrong, sweets?"

He snakes his fingers around your wrist and pulls you into him gently, wrapping his arms around you completely. You relax into his embrace, inhaling the warm, cosy scent of him. All the fear leaves your body, and you cling to him tighter, worried that he'll disappear any minute.

"I had a nightmare," you whisper into the soft cotton of his chest.

He pulls back to look at you, large, calloused hands cradling your tear stained cheeks.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You deliberate for a second before shaking your head softly.

"If you change your mind, you know I'll always listen to you. Any time. I mean it."

"I know," you say quietly. "Thank you."

You step away from him and towards the couch, where you curl up with your legs tucked underneath you. Bucky walks over to the kitchen, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove. He makes two mugs of tea, handing one into your outstretched hands carefully. He shuffles to sit next to you, pressed into your side, arm slung around your shoulders. You relax into the broadness of him, the comfort he brings, the safety. The two of you fall asleep intertwined, warm and content, wrapped completely in each other and the blanket of your love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're both startled awake by a phone ringing. The unwelcome melody is coming from somewhere between where you're nestled together, limbs intertwined and bodies connected.

"It's-fuck- is that mine or yours?" Bucky's mumbling as he scrambles amongst the couch cushions.

"Yours, I think," you reply, finding your phone on the floor where you've kicked it in your sleep.

Bucky finally finds the source of the noise, trapped in the arm of the couch. He presses the green button reluctantly, still disorientated from being woken so suddenly.

"Hello?"

That deep, raspy grumble of his morning voice is enough to make you melt back into your original position, the tone golden and honeyed. You slide back towards him and tuck yourself into his side, the two of you fitting together perfectly.

You can hear muffled talking on the other end, which takes Bucky a minute to comprehend. When he does, his eyes widen, and he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

It's your Dad, he mouths silently, muscles in his body going rigid.

Fuck, you mouth back, praying that he can't hear the two sets of heaving lungs on your side of the line.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be there. Sounds good, man. See you then."

Bucky's about to hang up the phone, when your Dad makes a noise of complaint. You can hear your Mom yelling something at him in the background.

"They're coming here," he whispers to you as quietly as possible, covering the phone speaker. "Fuck, what do we do?"

"Tell them you're already here... borrowing something. Or giving something back."

You shoot him a look that says trust me. Trust you, he does.

"I'm with her right now. I can ask, if you want? Yeah, just dropping off a couple of tools - last time I saw her, she mentioned a few loose screws in one of the kitchen cabinets. Easy fix."

You can hear your Dad singing his praises and expressing his gratitude, and your Mom asking Bucky to put you on the phone. He passes it to you carefully, as if it's a bomb, bound to explode at any given second.

"Hi, Mama."

"Hey, sweetheart. Bucky get everything sorted for you?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been great. Fixed it in two minutes flat. I just didn't have the right kind of screwdriver."

"He's one of the good ones, huh?" she chuckles. "We called to tell you that you have to come to our get together later. I know it's a little impromptu, but we have so much produce from the garden, too much for just us. We'll have dinner in the backyard, and drinks, and play some games. And we'll tell you all about the wedding!"

Your Mother has a gift for hosting. She's a people person through and through, warm hearted and kind spirited in nature. She loves having people over at the house, loves cooking for them, loves choosing wine pairings for her dishes and explaining each one carefully. It's a gift. She's a gift.

"I'd love to come, Mama. Do you want me to bring anything? I can make desserts?"

"Oh, darling, would you? I'm making a strawberry and cream tart, but you know it's nothing compared to your talent."

"Oh hush," you chide playfully. "I'll see what I can conjure up. Maybe I'll even rope Bucky in to help."

You wink at him cheekily and he laughs, the sound settling gently in your ribs like a caged bird singing it's morning song.

"Glad to be of service!" he yells into the phone, his right hand moving to rest at the nape of your neck. He massages the muscle there gently, and the tension leaves your body just as quick as it arrived.

"What time, Mama?"

"Everyone's arriving at seven o'clock, but you and Bucky feel free to come any time. Did you hear that, Bucky? Any time!"

"Loud and clear," he chuckles. "See you soon, Lori."

"Bye, you two. Call if you need anything. Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too."

She hangs up the phone and you're plunged into silence, the two of you panting like you've just ran a marathon.

"Fuck," Bucky breathes.

"Yeah, fuck," you exhale. "Now my parents think I'm not capable of fixing a loose screw."

"It was the first thing I thought of! Sorry, honey. Didn't mean to undermine your DIY skills."

You fake angry, but you can't keep it up while he's looking at you like you hung the moon just for him. The corners of your lips twitch, and before you know it, you're grinning at each other like idiots.

"Now I have to make dessert," you laugh. "There go my plans for the day."

"You offered."

"I panicked!"

"I'll give you a hand, if you need it. I don't have to be at work for another hour and a half."

"It's okay," you reassure, reaching out to link your fingers with his. He's still absentmindedly tracing patterns across the back of your neck, the sensation almost soothing you back to sleep.

You relax into Bucky, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He's so warm, and soft, and broad. You realise that there's been two occasions recently where you've slept like the dead. Both were in Bucky's arms.

"You wanna help me make breakfast?" you whisper, careful not to disrupt the golden glow of the morning sunlight. The orange hue of the room feels fragile, sacred even. You don't want to ruin it.

"Of course. I can't bake, but I can cook. I have my uses."

"That, you do," you tease, leaning back into him as he places a tender kiss on top of your head. If you could bottle up this feeling of complete tranquility, you would. For a moment, everything else disappears. It's just you and your soulmate. Nothing else matters.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky, as it turns out, is a decent chef.

Sure, he's not Michelin star level, but neither are you.

You're sat on the counter, bare legs dangling over the side as you watch him move around your kitchen with ease, as if it's his own. You can't help but notice the way he belongs here. Like he's been here all along.

Bucky leaves everything cooking on the stove to come to stand in between your legs, warm hands splayed across your thighs. He rubs comforting circles into your skin while his steely blue eyes look at you intently.

"You okay?"

You smile at him softly, draping your arms around his neck to play with his hair.

"I'm fine."

You're not fine. The words California and Bakery and Dream Job and Bucky keep circling around your mind like horses on a fairground carousel. The more time you spend with Bucky, the more your Tethering makes sense. The two of you work. This connection you have is made of threads of gold, braided into both of your souls.

"You've been quiet all morning. And... I can feel it, you know. This anxious, sinking feeling, deep in my chest. There's something really bothering you, honey."

You take a deep breath and grasp onto his shoulders tightly, grounding yourself back down to Earth.

"I'm okay. There's just a couple of things I need to work out, and I think they're giving me some anxiety. I'm just stressed, I think."

"Are you trying to convince yourself, or me? Because you're not doing a very good job of either."

He's only teasing, but the way he's looking at you makes your breath hitch. It's as if everytime he looks into your eyes, he's also looking into your soul. It's like he can read your mind. Your heart is covered in braille and he's running his fingertips over it gently. You suddenly feel very exposed, shrinking down into yourself on the counter.

"Hey, pretty girl. Look at me. Please."

He uses his finger and thumb to tilt your face towards him, holding onto your chin gently.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to push you, or anything. I'm just worried. It's weird, being able to feel what you feel. I think I'm still getting used to it."

You smile at him carefully, running your fingers over the stubble on his cheeks.

"I appreciate you looking out for me, Buck. It's just... overwhelming, I guess. Nothing's a secret between me and you anymore."

You both know that's not true.

"You know, if there's anyone who understands how you feel... it's me."

"You're right," you laugh, "on account of the whole half-of-my-soul thing, I guess."

"Exactly. It's scary, but you're not alone in this. The two of us will figure it out. I know we will."

He has so much faith in you it makes you want to cry.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, firm and reassuring. It's like he's reminding you that he's right here, in front of you. He's not going anywhere.

You might be, though.

"We've got all the time in the world, remember?" he murmurs against your mouth.

"All the time in the world," you echo, tucking your head into his chest.

He holds you close until your breakfast starts to burn. The impending fire on the stove is nothing compared to the impending fire that feels like your future.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you eat on your balcony, tangled together on the love seat chair. The sun is beating down, beams of light illuminating Bucky, setting him aglow. He looks like an angel, the golden hue creating a halo around him. You wonder for a second if he is. An angel sent just for you.

"Oh hey, did I tell you?" he asks, turning as much as he can in his spot to face you.

"Tell me what?"

"Leonie and Eli are having a baby."

"No way!" you exclaim, grabbing a hold of his hands in excitement. "I'm so happy for them. Man, it feels like yesterday that they found each other."

"Right? Hell of a story, too."

"Rough one, though. I mean, imagine it. You introduce your brother to your new girlfriend, and turns out they're soulmates."

Bucky's laughing so hard that he's clutching at his stomach, shaking the chair and you along with it.

"That's fucked," he wheezes. "It's so fucked."

You can't contain your own laughter, not when his is so contagious.

"It's not funny," you breathe, but you're giggling so hard your sides hurt.

"Not funny at all," he chuckles, pinching your thigh.

"If you think about it, our Tethering is a little fucked up too. I mean, you're my Dad's best friend."

"Yeah... not ideal, huh?" he teases, still laughing.

"Not ideal at all, really," you agree playfully.

You sit in the quiet for a moment before you speak again.

"What do you think they'll say? When we tell them, eventually?"

Bucky thinks for a moment, cogs turning in his brain. He considers carefully before he answers you.

"...I think they'll be happy for us. Your Mom'll be excited. It might be a little harder for your Dad to navigate, I guess, but... he'll be okay."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

The rational part of your brain is telling you that he is. They'll be ecstatic that the two of you have found your person. The celebrations will be endless.

But there's a tiny, nagging piece of your mind that won't let you rest. It's taunting you, telling you that they're going to be confused, shocked, upset. That they won't accept the two of you. You can't lose them over a soulmate. You won't.

You clear your throat and stand from your spot, picking up your empty plates.

"Don't you have to be at work soon? I doubt you can show up in pajamas."

"I'm the boss, pretty girl. I can wear whatever the hell I want."

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he relents.

"Fine. I need to change. But I'll see you later? At your Mom's?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you there."

You walk Bucky to the door, opening it expectantly. He looks at you for a moment too long, still unconvinced by your reassurances from earlier.

"If you need anything, just call me. You know you can talk to me anytime, yeah?"

"Yeah," you confirm, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his t shirt. "I know, Buck. Thanks."

He leans in to kiss your forehead before leaving you in the doorway, more confused than ever.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You commit your day to baking your feelings away.

As soon as Bucky left your apartment, the space felt empty, incomplete. Much like you do. As much as you hate to admit it, you feel better when Bucky is around. You know it's the whole Tethering thing, but still. Your heart feels fuller, the world seems brighter, the sun on your skin is warmer. Everything's easier when your soulmate is next to you.

You click on the radio, a soft, jazzy melody filling your kitchen. You begin to measure your ingredients, picking up bowls, utensils and your piping bags as you go.

This is the only thing you've ever felt like you were made to do. Sure, you've had hobbies as you've grown up. You're a good swimmer, you enjoyed soccer, you weren't too bad at dance. But nothing compared to baking.

Which at first, sounded ridiculous. Grown ups would ask you what you wanted to be when you were older, and when you said Baker, they'd laugh in that patronising way that adults do. It didn't stop you, though.

Your Grandma bought you a half empty recipe book for your tenth birthday. You can create your own and add them, she'd said. You'll be publishing a book with your name on in no time.

Your parents took you on a European vacation when you were sixteen. In Amsterdam, you passed this tiny little bakery, tucked away down a back street. It was red brick with a big window in the front, showcasing the cakes and endless sweet treats they had to offer. When you peered through the glass, you watched as the woman who you assumed was the owner went about her day. She looked so happy to be serving her customers. You decided then and there that was going to be you one day. A Bakery of your own. A happy life.

Which is why you're having such a hard time. You haven't talked to Stella since she called you, and you're worried she's going to change her mind if she doesn't hear from you soon. You haven't talked to Bucky about it either, even though he presented you with opportunity after opportunity this morning. It's starting to feel like the walls are caving in.

So, you do what you do best. Bake.

The day passes by quicker than anticipated, lost in a cloud of cinnamon and powdered sugar. You're wiping down your counters when your phone rings, Bucky's name lighting up your screen.

"Hi, Buck."

"Hey, pretty baby. You want me to pick you up later? I'm passing your place anyway."

He's always thinking of you so selflessly. The thought makes your heart stutter for a moment.

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Course not. I can drop by at six? Gives us enough time to help your Mom set up."

"Sounds perfect. Thanks, Buck."

"See you then, honey."

You hang up the phone and realise the hours have completely escaped you. You jump in the shower and do your hair and makeup in record time, miraculously. You're stood in a towel in front of your closet when you feel Bucky pull up outside. The tension in your chest eases a little, and you take a deep, full breath. He knocks on the door, and you completely relax.

"Hey, you," he greets, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

You take a step back to look at him, and almost lose your balance. He looks ridiculously handsome. He's wearing a dark short sleeve button up that hugs his biceps so tightly, you're worried it might burst open. His jeans cling to his thighs deliciously, and the leather jacket slung over his shoulder adds a ruggedness that most men couldn't pull off. Your eyes rake over him slowly, taking him in from top to bottom. He lets you devour him, smirk never leaving his lips. Eventually, you meet his gaze.

"You see something you like?"

"You clean up real nice, Barnes," you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

You untangle yourself from him before you jump his bones, and walk back to your closet. He follows you and sits on the edge of your bed, watching your every move like a hawk.

You pick out a sage green sundress that skims your thighs and hugs you in all the right places. It's a warm night, and your Mom loves to start a bonfire when it's cold.

"Close your eyes, playboy," you scold jokingly, laughing when he flops backwards to stare at your ceiling.

You slip the dress on, and realise it has a zipper at the back that you can't reach.

"Buck? Can you zip me up, please?"

He rises from his spot on the bed and strides over to you, standing a little closer than necessary. He pulls the zip upwards ever so slowly, fingertips brushing your spine as he goes. He's so warm and so broad behind you that it sends a shiver through your body.

Bucky brushes your hair to one side and leans down to press a featherlight kiss the place where your neck meets your shoulder. You hum in contentment, which only spurs him on. He begins to leave kisses wherever he pleases - your shoulder, your neck, behind your ear. You practically melt into him, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady.

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen."

You smile at his words, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder.

"Says the man that looks like a goddamn supermodel."

"Oh, angel. Now you're just lying to me."

His chuckle rumbles through the both of you, the sound lighting up your nerve endings.

Your eyes flick across the room, where you notice the clock on the wall.

"Baby," you whisper. "You gotta stop. We're gonna be late."

He groans lowly and lets his head loll into the crease of your shoulder.

"I was fine until you called me baby," he murmurs. "Now that's all I'm gonna be thinking about for the rest of the night."

"Sorry."

"You're not."

"I'm not."

You both laugh and untangle yourselves, you moving to put on your shoes while Bucky straightens himself out.

"You gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself, lover boy?"

"I'm gonna have to," he grumbles, trying to hide the smile that's fighting to take over his face.

You lean against him as you do up the straps of your shoes, dancing your fingers down his arm to interlink your hands.

"Ready?" you ask, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

"Ready," he confirms, leaning down to kiss you chastely.

"A night of pretending that we're not soulmates. How hard can that be?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Pretending that Bucky isn't your soulmate is one of the hardest things you've ever done.

You haven't even made it inside yet.

Buck parks his truck in your parents driveway and turns to look at you. You've been silent the entire ride over, and it's making him anxious. He reaches over and places a warm palm on your bare thigh, thumb rubbing patterns back and forth.

"You okay?"

You take a deep breath, which is all the answer he needs.

"It's alright, baby. I'm nervous too. We've got this. We're alright."

You look into his eyes for the first time since you were in your apartment, and have to fight to stop yourself from crying. You nod and bite your lip, inhaling and exhaling carefully.

"You're okay. I promise. It's me and you, honey girl. It's me and you."

You want to crawl over into Bucky's lap and bury your face in his chest. You want to curl up in his strong arms and let his scent envelope you. You want to tangle your fingers into his hair and smash his lips to yours, until you don't know where you end and Bucky begins.

Instead, you bring his hand from your thigh to your lips, and kiss each of his knuckles tenderly. The gesture makes his heart beat so fast, he's a little worried he's about to pass out.

"Come and talk to me anytime tonight, okay? I've got you. I've always got you."

You nod again, and take another deep breath.

"I know, Buck. It's the only thing I'm sure of."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"My baby!"

Your Mom smothers you in a hug the minute you knock on the door, almost tipping you over in the process.

"Oh, you look so beautiful. This colour is gorgeous on you, sweetheart."

The heaviness of your heart gets a little lighter at the sight of your Mother. She's magic like that.

"Thanks Mama. Is your skirt new? It's pretty."

She gives you a twirl, the skirt billowing around her like a princess. Both you and Bucky smile when you catch each others eyes briefly.

"I got it on our trip! Your Dad got a new shirt too - he looks so handsome."

She's grinning from ear to ear talking about him. Your smile only gets wider.

Bucky gives your Mom a one armed hug, and hands her a white box with a bow on.

"I wish I could say this is from me, but I don't have nearly enough talent for that."

"You're plenty good at other things, Buck," she laughs. "What's in here, sweetheart?"

"Apple, carrot and cinnamon cake with cream cheese frosting. I piped little bunny rabbits on top, too."

Before she can say anything else, you take the box from her hands and walk into the house.

"We better put this in the refrigerator before the frosting melts!" you call as you leave.

"Come on Buck, let's get you a drink. Jack bought your favourite."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your parents backyard looks incredible.

Golden fairylights adorn the deck, illuminating the dining area that your Mom has set up. The table is covered with a white lace tablecloth, and littered with tea lights and candlesticks. Each place setting has a wine and a water glass ready, fringed cushions perched on each wooden chair. There's a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a stained glass vase as the centerpiece, more flowers scattered across the entirety of the table.

The sun hasn't set yet, and the entire garden is dripping with the glowing orange hue of the evening. The air is warm and calm, salty ocean breeze only disrupting the peace occasionally. If summer were to be summed up in a night, it'd be this one.

Your Dad is pouring water into all of the glasses from an ornate painted jug when you walk into the yard.

"Hi, Papa."

"Oh, sweetheart!" he smiles in surprise, abandoning his task to come and give you a hug. "You look amazing. I like your dress."

"Thank you - hey, is this your new shirt? It suits you!"

"It's nice, right? Your Mom picked it out. She said the colour brings out my eyes."

You look him up and down comically, crossing your arms over your chest like a cartoon detective.

"Hmm... she's right. It definitely does."

You're both laughing when your Mom and Bucky join you, the two men immediately smacking each other on the back affectionately.

"Where you been, Buck? Work keeping you busy?"

"Stupidly busy - you wouldn't even believe."

"Well, it's your night off, so no shop talk!" your Mom encourages, handing Bucky a beer.

"Easier said than done," he winks, and your breathing picks up just a little.

"Mama, do you need help with anything in the kitchen?"

"Oh, yes please, sweetheart. Come, let me show you what needs doing."

The two of you leave the men to catch up, walking inside to prep the appetisers.

You're slicing tomatoes carefully when you turn to watch your Mom for a minute. She's chopping up basil, completely engrossed. The evening sun beams in, illuminating her as she stands by the window. You love her so much it makes you unsteady on your feet.

"Hey, Mama? Can I talk to you about something?"

She turns and immediately stops what she's doing, giving her full attention to you.

"Of course you can, baby. Anything at all."

You take a deep breath, and carry on slicing while you talk.

"So, you remember Stella, right?

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

There's good food, gorgeous wine and even better company. Your parents invited many of their friends, meaning twelve of you are sat around the meticulously prepared table. In between courses, there's conversation, laughter and games, everyone letting go of the stress of the week.

You're doing everything you can to avoid looking at Bucky. You're worried that if someone catches the two of you, they'll know everything. You're surprised you haven't confessed already, the weight of the secret too heavy to bear.

Your Mom is cutting your cake on the table when there's a sudden commotion.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Shit! Shit, I'm sorry. Shit."

"Is everyone okay?" your Mom asks, flitting to the other end of the table.

"I'm so fucking clumsy, my God. Dropped my wine straight onto Bucky," Jesse, one of your Dad's oldest friends, explains.

"As long as it doesn't stain my white tablecloth, we're fine," your Mom laughs. "What do you need, Buck?"

"It's only white wine, luckily, so no stain. I'm just wet. I'm gonna go dry off."

"I have a hairdryer?" you offer without thinking.

"Good idea, honey. Go help Bucky upstairs while I get some paper towels."

You rise from your chair and make your way inside, heart racing as Bucky follows you. You rummage around the drawers of your childhood bedroom, certain you used to keep all of your hair tools here somewhere.

"You got it?" a warm, whiskey smooth voice asks from behind you.

"Got it," you reply, standing up with the hairdryer in your hand.

Bucky kicks the door closed behind him, and takes a step into you.

"I can't focus on anything when you're sat there in that dress," he murmurs. "Look like a fuckin' angel, all pretty under the lights."

Heat blooms over your chest, and you pray he doesn't notice. Your breathing quickens, and you step forward too, now chest to chest with him.

"I'm so worried that I'm going to accidentally blurt it out," you confess. "You're the only thing that's on my mind."

Bucky leans down to press his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. You fist your hands into his shirt and pull him closer, snaking your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like mint and sugar and every kiss for the rest of your life.

He groans when you bite his lip, nipping yours back in retaliation.

"Easy, baby," he warns teasingly. "I can't go back down there black and blue."

You roll your eyes and kiss him harder, practically melting when he grabs at your ass roughly.

"What do you need, pretty girl?" he questions against your mouth. "I'll give you anything."

You're panting against him, vibrating with need.

"Need you to take the edge off," you whisper, hands shaking as you unbutton his wet shirt. "Can't carry on like this. Please, baby. Please."

"We've gotta be quick," he reminds, sneaking his hand under your dress to tease you over your underwear.

You grab at his shoulders for leverage, almost certain your knees aren't going to hold out long enough. Bucky doesn't even take your panties off, just slips his hand down the front. It feels filthier this way.

"Fuck," he groans. "This all for me, honey? You been thinking about this?"

"Yes," you whine. "All I've thought about."

Bucky wastes no time, slipping a finger into you easily. After a minute, he adds another, setting a steady rhythm immediately.

"Shit," you breathe, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chest. "We're supposed to be taking it slow."

"You want me to go slow?"

"No, fuck," you say immediately. "Don't stop. Please."

He chuckles lowly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

"I won't, baby. Almost there."

It should be embarrassing, how quickly he can take you to the edge, but you don't care. This is what having a soulmate is. They know you better than anyone - inside and out.

"So close," you whisper.

"I know, pretty baby. I can feel it. Stay quiet and come for me. That's it."

You can't hold out when he uses that tone with you. You're thrown over the edge, your climax running through you like molten honey, hot and delicious. Your knees buckle, and Bucky uses a strong arm around your middle to hold you up.

"There we go," he's murmuring. "Atta girl. That's my girl."

You wrap your arms around his waist and breathe him in, finally coming back to your senses.

"My parents are gonna wonder where we are," you realise. "Grab your shirt and the hairdryer. You're gonna have to do it while I recover."

Bucky smiles at you with so much affection, the world stops spinning for a second. This is a moment of bliss. The two of you revel in it.

Bucky dries his shirt while you go back outside, trying to keep suspicion to a minimum.

"Fixed, sweetheart?" your Mom asks, holding out a piece of cake to you. You take it gratefully and sit back down, relaxing into your chair.

"Yeah, it's basically dry. That hairdryer is old, so it's taking a while."

"Well you didn't miss much, other than Jesse telling the Joshua Tree story for the fortieth time this month," your Dad laughs.

"You love that story, asshole!" Jesse yells, just as Bucky re-enters the garden. He throws you a mischievous smile, which you reciprocate with ease.

Everyone is a little more careful with their wine as the night goes on, keeping all the glasses planted firmly on the table.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"So then I said, well, if you don't like it, leave!"

You're pretty sure you've heard your Mom's friend Cora tell this story before, but you're all laughing like it's the first time. She has such an animated voice, you're convinced you could listen to her read the phone book.

"Which, I mean, I didn't think he would. Imagine breaking up over a chinchilla! A fucking chinchilla!"

You're laughing so hard your sides hurt. You look over to Bucky, and see that he's grinning like a Cheshire cat. You could get used to this.

"So I watched him pack his shit, box by box. Which took fucking ages, by the way. He was using those big plastic boxes, you know the black ones? And he was filling them so carefully and so slowly, that I started helping him!"

You wipe a tear from your face, still doubled over in amusement. You're gonna be sore tomorrow, the way your abs hurt now.

"But I didn't want him taking those boxes, because they're nice, right? They're expensive, and they're mine! So I helped him move out, and then unpacked all of his shit so I could have my boxes back."

Your Mom, despite hearing this story before, hasn't taken her eyes off Cora the entire time. She's such a careful listener. It's one of the things you love most about her.

"Oh, I'll drop them off for you, if you like!" Cora yells, staring directly at you. Everyone turns to look at you in confusion.

"Why would she need all your boxes?" Jesse laughs.

"For the big move!"

Time stands still. The world goes silent. Your heart stops beating.

"...What move?" Bucky asks, never taking his eyes off you.

"To California! Her dream job, falling in her lap. We're so proud of you, babygirl. You've worked so hard for this."

Cora's tearing up now, the alcohol catching up to her. She raises her glass high in the air.

"To our little superstar. The best baker the world has ever seen! Cheers!"

Everyone clinks their glasses together in the middle of the table, except for you and Bucky. You haven't taken your eyes off each other. The world carries on, but you stay still.

You suddenly feel a cacophony of emotions - sadness, anger, betrayal, hurt and confusion settling like ten tonne weights onto your chest. Then it hits you - you're feeling what Bucky feels.

You feel a heart break.

You're not sure if it's yours or his.

tag list part one -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[andi-kook]

DEAD KIDS ✦ Chapter 2

SUMMARY: A group of university students kidnaps their rich batchmate for ransom. However, things take a darker turn when the new recruit grows a dangerous obsession with the captive and all hell breaks loose.

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Slow burn Yandere, Crime AU

WARNINGS: Not suitable for audiences below 18. Please do not engage with the story if you are underage. WATCH OUT FOR: dark and morally corrupt characters, foul language, mention of Catholicism, slut shaming and objectification of women, mention of inappropriate relationship between professor/student, mentions and depiction of “rape” and “rape fantasy” throughout the story, masturbation, threats, MC has an NSFW blog with hard kinks and fantasies, non consensual touching. Overall, this is a disturbing chapter – based on my standards – so if you are not comfortable with these topics, do not proceed. Inspired by the film, Dead Kids (2019).

TAGLIST: @hopeworldsupremacy @aliajomarie011 @ackercute @tatumrileyslover @ane102 @jjk174 @dontcallmeelle @merrygo1427 @taekritimin123 @r1r111 @gguksfilter @coralmusicblaze

If I didn’t tag you – either your blog doesn’t exist according to Tumblr or because you did not show your age in your blog. Thank you!

ANDI: I send my love to the beautiful souls who sent me asks about Dead Kids as well as these equally beautiful souls – @.taekritimin123 @.hellbornsworld @.tinytangerineangel @.namjesusdaughter – for commenting on Chapter 1. I cannot express just how much I appreciate your words. I would have tagged you directly, but I wasn’t sure if you would want that. But I wanted to show my appreciation.

WORD COUNT: 3K

“Why did you really want to take her?” Jungkook asks Namjoon as they sit and eat the ramen he cooked around the living area. Beside him, Yoongi and Hoseok are fast asleep, the latter clutching onto the former’s arm like it’s his plushie while the former has his head thrown against the headrest.

Namjoon, who is seated on the other makeshift sofa, gulps down the soup from his ramen before letting out a satisfied sigh and wipes his mouth with the back of his mouth. “How many times do we have to say that we kidnapped Y/N for ransom?”

“I’m not stupid, Namjoon,” Jungkook says. “We’re already tied to this shit until the ransom drop. The least you can do is be upfront on why you did this in the first place. I’m not taking a bullet for you or anyone.”

The buzz-cut haired man leans his back against the sofa, which unlike his premium one, is built from scratch by Jungkook using old wood and cases of beers around the warehouse. He gazes at Jungkook for a while, studying him while swimming in his own thoughts. The tattooed man wonders if Namjoon is contemplating telling him the truth. He wonders if the two sleeping men beside him also knew the truth.

They claim to have been friends since the fourth grade, but does time really make you know a person inside out?

“My father didn’t used to be the way he is now – corrupt. Growing up, I looked up to him because of how honest and upstanding he was as a cop. I knew he did some off-the-books shit, but he still had a moral compass, still had lines he didn’t cross. But then he met Y/N’s father, Kim Seokjin, when I was ten. Suddenly, everything changed,” Namjoon narrates, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head and rubs his palms on his baggy jeans. “He went from being a great husband and father to my mother and I to a complete asshole. We didn’t have religion but after meeting Kim Seokjin, we were suddenly Catholics, attending church with his family every Sunday. I was baptized and Kim Seokjin became my godfather. But the worst part was seeing him erase all the lines he drew and swore never to cross when he began to use his position as a detective and then eventually sergeant to now the chief of the entire police force in Seoul to protect Kim Seokjin and his criminal empire.”

Jungkook inhales deeply. “So, kidnapping Y/N is you taking on revenge against Kim Seokjin for corrupting your father? It is personal. It’s never about the money?”

“Of course, the money is important and integral to the plan. But yes, you are correct – I want to avenge my father from Kim Seokjin by hitting him where I know it will hurt the most: his only daughter, Y/N.”

“You promised that we are not going to hurt her,” Jungkook counters immediately.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “If you do that – what makes you different than Kim Seokjin?”

“Why are you so protective of her?” Namjoon asks pointedly. “What? Just because she gave you a boner, you’re suddenly fucking in love with her? Don’t think I didn’t notice. We all did. Yoongi is right – drop the morally upright act, Jeon. You’re just as demented as we are. The moment you agreed to this plan, you’re just as fucked up.”

The sudden call out makes Jungkook turn crimson and Namjoon smirks, placing his leg over the other. “Don’t worry – unlike you, I don’t judge people. To each our own. If shit like that turns you on, then that’s on you. Why don’t you take the opportunity to act on it?”

His eyes widen, shocked and disgusted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jungkook knows exactly what Namjoon is talking about, but he is completely aghast at the insinuation.

The de facto leader only widens his smirk, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and lighter from the front pocket of his large, oversized coat. “You know what I’m talking about, Jeon. A pretty naked girl tied to a chair in your warehouse – it’s perfectly normal to feel aroused by such sight. We won’t judge you if you just get it over and done with.”

“You’re more than fucked up,” Jungkook hisses, face flushed and veins popping out on his neck. “I’m not going to fucking touch her.”

Namjoon lights the cigarette in between his lips. Then, he inhales, and smoke leaves his lips as he replies, “Why not? Y/N is a dirty slut who fucks her married professor with kids her age after church and dinner every Sunday night and more – I bet you all my cut that she’s not going to resist you because she’s probably into fucking someone having their own way with her. No, in fact, I can tell you she’s going to enjoy it.”  

Jungkook feels hot. Images of your naked trembling body and whimpering pleas filling his mind and ears.

“She has a blog, you know? A secret blog where she writes these fantasies and kinks she has. Posts her nudes on there too. Do you wanna know what is one fantasy she keeps on writing about?”

“No, I really don’t,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth.

“It’s a rape fantasy, Jungkook. What a fucking dirty slut she is, right? I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

He stands up in a jolt, hitting his knee on the makeshift table he made from old tires and steel roof and stammering some excuse that he needs to go the bathroom or air – he can’t remember. Jungkook finds himself in his room, back pressed against the door. His shirt sticks to his skin because of the sweat, and he takes it off, leaving it discarded on the floor. Namjoon’s words mixed with the flashing images of your perky nipples, smooth skin, sound of your whimpers, pleas, your smell – it makes him hard. Harder than he’s ever been.

Before he knows it, Jungkook is unbuttoning his jeans, pulling it down along with his boxers, his erection springing free. He spits on his palm before he begins stroking his length, shuddering at the touch, making his mouth dry. He presses the back of his head against the door, eyes closed as he imagines you on your knees – like you were with the professor – those lips around his shaft, head bobbing as you suck him dry. He imagines hearing your moans, imagines his dick hitting the back of your throat as you go deeper and beg him to fuck your mouth like a whore. Jungkook’s stroking himself faster. He imagines hearing you gag as he fucks your mouth, not stopping even when you’re clearly suffocating. Then, he cums, toes curling and a guttural groan escaping his lips.

As he comes back from his high, Jungkook stares at the white sticky substance covering his hand and cock. He just jerked off to you, a girl they kidnapped, and he knows it won’t be the last time.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Yoongi hisses at him the moment he comes back from his room, showered and changed into more comfortable clothes.

Jungkook deliberately ignores the stare of Namjoon and flops on the seat beside Hoseok who is eating the remaining ramen. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“I’m going to punch this kid, I swear to God,” Yoongi grumbles, rolling his eyes. “We’re making the ransom call, you dumb fuck. Or rather, you are.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “What? Why me?”

“Every one of us here has already encountered Y/N’s father at least once. The man remembers everyone he encounters. You’re the only exception,” Namjoon explains as he hands you a black phone. “It’s a burner phone, untraceable. I took it from my dad. And this is what you’re going to say – make sure you sound intimidating at least. Put it on speaker too.”

Namjoon places his phone on the makeshift table and Jungkook clicks his tongue. “The deal was you only use my warehouse. So far, you got me doing far more than that.”

“Do you want 25 million or not?” Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Cos if you do, you better start calling Kim Seokjin.”

I’m going to punch you soon, Jungkook tells himself before he unlocks the phone and goes to the contact list where Kim Seokjin’s name is the only one listed. He takes a deep breath, going over the script on Namjoon’s phone before clicking on the contact and putting the call on speaker. The ringing sound echoes throughout the warehouse. The tension is palpable again, like it was back in the car earlier that night.

After a few more rings, Kim Seokjin’s voice fills the warehouse. It’s light but a hint of roughness and irritation is noticeable right away.

“Who is this?”

Jungkook licks his lips as he read the script in front of him. “We have your daughter. If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 million won and bring it to 2020 this Friday night. Otherwise, the next time you’ll see her is on the news, dead.”

Hoseok covers his mouth to keep himself from laughing while Yoongi stares hard at the phone. Namjoon, on the other hand, is relaxed on his seat, smoking.

“You sound young, boy,” Seokjin remarks. “You are not the first person to call me in the middle of the night asking for ransom. Do you really have any idea what you’re doing?”

Namjoon motions for him to repeat what he just said.

“If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 mill—,”

“Don’t you think I would be able to find my daughter faster than you could ever imagine? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

That triggers Jungkook. He’s been hearing that question – that discrimination his entire life and he’s sick of it. He’s fucking sick of it.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are. Either you give us 100 million in exchange for your whore of a daughter or I will personally make you watch as we do everything we want with her, make you watch as she begs you to make it stop, make you listen as she takes her last breath before I fucking slit her throat so deep her head nearly decapitates. You have until Friday night – and you better make sure the police don’t get involved. Don’t fucking ask me who the fuck you are again.”

He ends the call, gripping the phone tightly.

“What the fuck was that? Why the hell didn’t you stick to the script?! Are you trying to get us all a one way ticket to prison?!” Yoongi exclaims.

“Did you not hear what he’s saying? He caught on that we are fucking amateurs. I saved our asses – you should be fucking grateful,” Jungkook snaps, clenching his jaw. “If you didn’t want me to do the call, maybe the three of you should have done it yourselves. Fucking useless bastards.”

“Hey! What did you say?” Hoseok stands, pushing Jungkook by placing his hands on his chest. “Who are you calling useless, huh?”

“Who do you think?” He scoffs.

“Let’s fucking kill this son of a bitch, Hobi.”

“Gladly.”

“Enough,” Namjoon says sternly. “No one is going to kill anyone. Not amongst ourselves. What Jungkook did is right, Yoongi. Jungkook saved our asses. And you,” He turns to the long-haired man, glaring at him. “Mind your fucking tone and language with us. We’re not fucking useless. Remember that we recruited you. Not the other way around. If anyone should be grateful to someone, it’s you. We’re the reason you’ll get out of this shit hole.”

Nobody says a word.

“It’s getting late. Let’s gather here tomorrow after our classes. Just go about your usual days until the drop. Don’t be suspicious,” The de facto leader reminds. “Jungkook, keep an eye out, okay? Don’t forget to check in on our little friend from time to time. Make sure she’s still breathing.” He smirks as he pats his shoulder on his way out.

Yoongi and Hoseok follow suit. Once Jungkook hears Namjoon driving off his – rather his aunt’s – property, he resigns to the sofa behind him. He buries his face into his hands. Five days. You’ll be stuck with him at the warehouse for five fucking days. Granted, he has classes to attend to, so he won’t be at home all day, but he’s sure you won’t leave his mind wherever he goes.

The phone in his hand buzzes and he stares at the new notification on the screen – a text message from an unknown number. Jungkook unlocks the phone, goes to the messaging app, and clicks on the new text.

avirgins1ut on tumblr if you wanna read some things tonight

“Fuck you, Namjoon,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. However, when he goes to his room, grabs his shitty phone and opens his data – he installs the app despite knowing it will consume almost all the remaining gigabytes he has left.

Jungkook lies down on his bed and creates his profile. He doesn’t bother customizing it, going straight to your blog which is all black and hot pink. Instantly, he’s drawn to your profile picture – a simple mirror shot of you hiding your bare chest with your arms, head tilt slightly to the side and a black panty covering your cunt. He swallows the lump in his throat as he scrolls down, reading your pinned post:

“Hey. You can call me Angel. I’m 23 years old. This blog is filled with all my fantasies and kinks, sometimes my nudes. Feel free to send me yours too.

My kinks: cnc, free use, somnophilia, spit, slapping, marking, choking, daddy, and more.

My favorite fantasies: rape play, kidnapped, kept as sex slave, knife/gun play, forced gangbang, and more – why don’t you help me unlock those? DMs and asks open for all your threats and nudes.

Update: already got myself a master/daddy. Asks and messages are off.”

As he scrolls further down your blog, Jungkook doesn’t even realize he already has his hand wrapped around his dick as he masturbates to your the latest fantasy you wrote albeit months ago.

I can’t stop masturbating to this dark fantasy of mine – being raped by someone so brutally after they kidnap me. How they would keep me chained to the bed, always naked so they can easily rape me whenever and however they want. They would mock me whenever I would tell them to stop (“You shouldn’t have worn those skirts if you didn’t want to be raped. But you did. So, this isn’t rape. You were clearly asking for this like some depraved filthy bitch in heat. You’re fucking loving this, don’t you? Isn’t this what you want?”) and choke me as they pound into my wet and clenching pussy relentlessly. They would slap and spit on my face, abusing my cunt for hours until I’m full of theirs and their friends’ cum whom they called to let them have a taste of their new toy.

They would rape me day in and out until my body gets so used to it that I start asking for it – crying and begging to be fucked. “Shh, angel, daddy’s going to fuck you, okay? Don’t cry.” Slowly, I would forget all my autonomy and identity, wholly submitting myself to them because I was never my own in the first place – I was always theirs.

“Fuck, Y/N!” His entire body shakes as he cums again. Jungkook can’t stop – he wants to read more, see more as you posted a picture of your cum covered cunt at the end of the post and he imagines it’s his. But he gets a notification that he is out of data and Jungkook slams his phone on his bed, frustrated beyond bounds. He is still hard. He still wants to see more of you, read more of your fantasies.

Namjoon’s words echo in his mind. I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

And before he knows it – he is standing across from your limp body. You’re still unconscious – sack over your head, tied and bound on the metal chair. Jungkook walks towards you, gently touching your shoulders to see if you would react but you don’t. He bites his lower lip as his eyes fall on your naked chest. He reaches down to trace its curves before ultimately cupping one breast in hand, fondling, squeezing, twisting the nipple and pinching it. No response.

He begins to stroke himself as he continues to fondle your breasts. This is wrong, but why does it feel so good?

“F-Fucking slut, you’re asking for this,” Jungkook hisses through his teeth. He’s not going to last any longer – not when those perky nipples are so inviting and moments later, he cums all over tits. He’s panting, an exhilarating feeling he hasn’t felt before rising within him as he stares at your cum covered chest. He swallows, breathing heavily. Should he stop now or keep going? He doesn’t have data anymore, but he does have the real thing right in front of him. But you twitch and he jumps in surprise. Suddenly, the realization of his actions washes upon him. He feels a coil in his stomach. What has he done? He scrambles out of the room and dash straight to the bathroom where he extensively washes his hand and splashes cold water on his face. Then, he throws himself on his thin mattress, staring at the ceiling as he pants. Namjoon is right – he’s just as fucked up as they are.

CHAPTER 3 is coming soon.

TAGLIST: Wanna be part of Dead Kids’ taglist? Fill out this form and don’t forget to read the short note in order for me to tag you.

ANDI: I do not condone the behaviors exhibited in this story. The characters of Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok do not reflect who they are in real life. Fanfiction is just fanfiction. I have no schedule in writing – I write whenever I can. Please try to refrain from sending asks about updates (or at least be kind and polite about it) and let me know your feedbacks instead as they help a lot in motivation and inspiration! 🦉

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © ANDI-KOOK 2024. NO PART OF THIS STORY MAY BE REPRODUCED, TRANSLATED, MODIFIED, EDITED, REPOSTED AND THE LIKES WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION.

[mammonscheeks]

demon brothers + dateables as destinations in the human world

✎ a/n: these are my opinions! i'm south and west asian, so i am most knowlegeable about those countries, please correct me if i've said anything incorrect!

LUCIFER

new york city, usa. he likes the cold, industrial corporate feel of nyc. it helps him avoid his feelings.

anywhere in germany. he likes their no-nonsense culture and unspoken social rules.

MAMMON

las vegas, nevada, usa. he always begs mc to take him there. the flashy lights and casinos are right up his alley.

dubai, uae. he loves the luxurious feel of it, and how its the center of celebrity gatherings, vacations, and parties.

LEVIATHAN

tokyo, japan (especially the akihabara/electronic district). he's always updated on pop culture and the newest technology/games.

seychelles island, africa. he likes swimming, but not socializing on the beach. that's why he likes isolated islands.

SATAN

london, england. he's interested in their medival history and seeing the places that inspired novels like harry potter and the sherlock holmes franchise.

cat island in japan, or any mediterranean country where cats freely roam.

ASMODEUS

paris, france. he'd love paris fashion week. he also just seems french to me, idk.

seoul, south korea. he'd adore seoul's culture, everything from the modern sappy kdramas to traditional dresses, like hanbok. he would bring an empty suitcase to stuff it with beauty products.

BEELZEBUB

mumbai, india. this metropolitan city in india offers so many different kinds of food. he would love to eat his way through the city, if not the entire country.

every city in mexico. he'd try the regional cuisine, but also hang out at the beach with his brothers and mc (so cute).

BELPHEGOR

cairo, egypt. he was once fascinated with humans, and often watched them build civilizations from heaven when he was an angel. he would enjoy the historical wonders of egypt.

reykjavic, iceland. idk why he just gives me iceland vibes. life there can be slow and cold, and it often gets less light than other countries.

DIAVOLO

transylvania, romania. he loves its breathtaking castles and culture, and is intrigued with all the pop culture references of vampires.

petra, jordan. this is a significant place in abrahamic religions, known for being haunted by demons, or jinn. diavolo would be fascinated by this history, whether its actually haunted or not. i know he'd eat up those scary ghost tours (insert fic about that here) and even probably try and scare a few tourist groups, despite barbatos advising him against it.

BARBATOS

istanbul, turkiye. istanbul has well-maintained structures from the byzantine empire, the ottoman empire, and even "newer and hip" neighborhoods. barbatos, being able to see the past and future, would appreciate the blend of it all here, like he's walking through time.

kathmandu, nepal. he'd enjoy the peace of monasteries and mountains, which are as old as the earth itself.

SIMEON

tuscany, italy. he'd enjoy the vast fields, heavenly sunsets, small towns and historic churches. he would find tuscany a peaceful place to write, but appreciates the community feel of small italian towns. would definitely be so friendly he'd get invited to eat dinner at a random family's house.

thessaloniki, greece. he would absolutely love seeing all the greek orthodox churches there, with their blue and white colors and dome roofs. he is just amused to see the religious structures humans have created. he'd also probably be interested in greek mythology, even though he's an angel.

LUKE

cape town, south africa. he would be so excited to see penguins at the beach and would enjoy the burst of color south africa offers. he'd also enjoy the modern bakeries and desserts in south africa.

lyon, france. the country is known for desserts. luke would probably take a baking class there to learn how to bake more things.

SOLOMON

salem, or just any small town in massachusetts. as a sorcerer, he's intrigued with their history of "witch hunting" and the paranormal.

lalibela, ethiopia. being old, he's intrigued with how ancient cities like lalibela have changed since biblical times. he also probably enjoys learning about different cultural practices and what they have in common with his sorcery. he also wants to learn how to cook more dishes from different countries, but fails miserably

[semisgroupie]

if i fall from the heavens, my new shelter shall be your tender embrace

fallen angel!getou suguru x angel!fem. reader

wc: 2.5k

warnings: HEAVILY sacrilegious, manipulation, coercion, unprotected sex, creampie, virginity loss, fingering (f!receiving), corruption, public sex, sex in a church, slight dubcon, betrayal, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), slight overstimulation, a little blood (quick mention), tears

synopsis: he’s lost you once and he won’t let it happen again

a/n: the art in the banner is the fallen angel by alexandre cabanel

After Satan’s rebellion against God, many things had changed. There was an uneasiness in the air and it seemed as though every angel in Heaven walked on thin ice that could crack at any second.

You were careful, every movement and action was methodical and rehearsed in your head a million times. Your lover was the opposite. Suguru wasn’t careful, he spoke his mind and was open about losing his faith in the almighty. A loss of faith turned into anger and then turned into confrontation which led to the worst moment you could possibly think of. Suguru was cast down to hell and it felt like your heart shattered into pieces.

Days passed and the ache in your chest never settled. As time passed you yearned for your lover, you missed the crinkle near his eyes whenever a smile was thrown your way, you missed the way he said your name softly, and you missed how he set your skin ablaze with just a simple touch.

More time passed and you were convinced you’d never hear from him or stumble upon him. You thought that it must not have been in God’s blueprint for you two to cross paths ever again. Why would God want you to see Suguru again anyway? He was tainted with a loss of faith and an impure heart while you oozed purity and holiness. But it never stopped your search.

Every single day you went to an abandoned church. The abandoned church was somewhere Suguru took you so you two could pretend to be normal humans with minds full of curiosity. You went again today and sat down on one of the dusty pews to recite the same prayer. You prayed that you’d have the chance to see Suguru just one more time, even if it was just for a millisecond. You were also convinced your prayer fell on deaf ears.

“Amen.” You let out a small sigh and slowly stood up then quickly turned when you heard a floorboard creak. Your eyes widened at the man that stood at the cobweb covered entrance. “Suguru?” The light that reflected off of him made him look like an angel but as he stepped closer to you, a gasp left your throat.

His wings that were once white were black, as if his old wings had been washed and tarnished with soot. Your body moved before you could wrap your mind around his new appearance. Once the distance was closed between you two he pulled you in close and hugged you tightly. “I thought I’d never see you again.” He mumbled his words into your hair as he peppered kisses along your head and all you could do was nod while tears began to stream down your face.

Your prayers had finally been answered and you were finally able to see and be with your love again. He placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled back to look at you. “Oh my sweet doll, please don’t cry. Tears should never stain a face as beautiful as yours.” He brought his thumbs up to wipe at your eyes and you lifted your hands to hold onto his wrists.

“I can’t believe you’re here Suguru. I’ve been searching for you every single day. I’ve prayed to see you once more and now you’re finally here.” You sniffled and a warm smile graced his features. “Darling, nothing can keep me away from you. I’ll always find my way back to you for our souls are intertwined. We will never part. I will crawl through the pits of hell until I see you again.”

He pulled you close again and walked with you to sit down. You brought your hand up to trace his features, memorizing each with your fingertips. “I’ve missed you more than anything Suguru. Why did you have to leave me? Why did you have to voice your doubts and frustrations? Why?” You met his eyes and felt a shiver run down your spine, the warmth you seeked in them was replaced by something odd, something you couldn’t put into words. “I couldn’t stay silent. I couldn’t stay in a place where I was frustrated, I couldn’t face that hypocrite every waking moment. I’m sorry but I had to do it. But enough of that, I’m here now and that’s all that matters.”

He hugged you to his chest and just held you. You were angry with Suguru for abandoning you but everything fell to the back burner as he held you. You shut your eyes and relished in the feeling of his strong arms around you. You had to enjoy him for as long as you could because you didn’t know when he would be ripped from you again.

He moved his hand along your arm and gently squeezed your shoulder when he reached it. “Hey, I have an idea.”

You lifted your head and looked into his eyes. “What is it?” He brought his hand that was formerly on your shoulder to your face and cupped it gently, “why don’t we consummate our love? We were never able to do it before and I don’t know when I’d be able to see you again. I want to feel you completely before I have to go back.” Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “that’s sinful Suguru, we can’t. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us.” He smiled and shook his head before pressing his lips to yours to quiet you down.

You melted into him immediately, enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours and when he pulled away, you instinctively followed his lips. “Just this once and then we’ll never have to do this again. Plus I don’t think anything will happen to you, you’ve been on God’s good side for the longest. I bet you’re one of his favorite angels.” You giggled and shook your head, “no way, you know who his favorite was and what happened to him. I can’t imagine what would happen to me.”

He kissed you again and held you closer to him, “then don’t imagine it, only focus on me. I’ll be your salvation.” He mumbled against your lips and kissed you rougher and more passionately than before. Little mewls and whimpers left your lips and he drank each sound that escaped you. One of his hands began to wander and he began to grope your breasts over the thin dress that covered your body. You gasped and he took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, gliding the wet muscle along your own. Everything he did sent fire through your veins, your body was heating up and only he could quell your burning desire.

He pulled away and began to trail his kisses along your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin. More whimpers and moans escaped you and filled the empty church. His hand that was on your breasts slid lower until it was between your thighs and he brought his hand to your most sensitive part. He helped lay you back against the pew but the second discomfort spread across your face he helped you back up. “Come with me to the front of the church, it’ll be better than these creaky pews.” He stood and took your hand in his as he led you to the front. There was a table that used to be used for communions and masses that was covered with a white table cloth. He helped you on top of it and gently pushed you back on it.

“Just rest my love, I’m going to make you feel very good.” He leaned down to capture your lips again and brought his hand back to where it was. His slightly calloused fingers dragged against your lower lips before he added a little bit of pressure to spread you open. You gasped and moaned softly against his lips as his fingers began to circle your clit, putting the slightest pressure to make your toes curl. The feeling that coursed through your veins was so foreign to you but you couldn’t help but crave it more. He slid his fingers lower and pressed them against your drooling hole, gathering all the slick that seeped onto his fingers then pushed one of them inside you.

Your mouth fell open as he started pushing his finger in. It felt like an extreme stretch but it was only a single digit. He moved it slowly, feeling your walls clench and coil around him as he experimented with you. His eyes were focused on you, watching each expression that graced your face. He pressed his thumb to your clit and a moan of his name left your lips. “Suguru!” His name echoed throughout the church and it fueled his motions. He leaned down and dragged his mouth along the sensitive skin of your neck. The feelings were all too much and all you could do was cry his name and writhe underneath your lover. “You’re crying my name like I’m your god, it’s so delicious. Cry it more.” He groaned against your skin as he curled his finger up to hit your g spot. The second his finger touched the sensitive spot, tears welled in your eyes and your mouth opened in a silent cry.

He continued to rub your clit and pump his finger, easing you through your orgasm. He kissed up your neck and kissed you deeply. It was a kiss that you could barely reciprocate properly but he still continued it. Just as you had eased around his finger, he slowly pulled it out and brought the slick digit to his mouth to suck it clean. He groaned as your juices coated his tongue then pulled his finger out with a soft pop. “So sweet. If the forbidden fruit tastes just as sweet then I can see why Eve couldn’t resist the temptation.” He leaned down to kiss you again while he released his cock from its constraints and pressed the leaking tip to your slick entrance.

“Now the all-seeing eyes of God can watch as I bathe you in the pleasure of sin.” At this point you had half the mind to question him or properly take in his words. You were still drunk from the orgasm that had just taken over your body and the pleasure that you had just experienced had quickly been replaced by another feeling as he began to push his cock into you. The sting that burned through your veins felt like what you had imagined the fires of hell must have felt like. You wanted the feeling to stop, it was all too much for you but it was as if Suguru could read your mind. He leaned down and caressed your cheek, “it’s okay my love, you trust me don’t you? Know that I will never bestow anything upon you that you can’t handle. I know you can handle this, just hold onto me and I promise this pain will quickly be replaced by pleasure.”

You nodded at his words and held onto his arms as he continued to push into you. Fresh tears spilled from the corner of your eyes and your nails dug into his flesh, breaking the skin. Once he was completely inside you, he brought one hand between your bodies and started to rub your clit. “Suguru, please make me feel good. I don’t want to feel any pain.” Your words were barely above a whisper but they reached him perfectly, he wrapped his free hand around you and pressed your chest to his. The pain soon started to dull and he began to thrust into you. Groans and moans filled the church like the harmonies of a choir. Skin slapped against skin in a sinful entanglement and pleasure coursed through your body. You held onto him tightly as he thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hit your sensitive spot with each heavy thrust. “You feel so good, Suguru. I want to experience this with you more and more, I don’t think I’ll be able to go without it for long.” Your words came out in a mix of moans and whines and all he could do was groan in response.

“I love you, Suguru. I love you so much. I never want to part from you again.” You continued to babble and Suguru looked into your eyes. “I love you even more. We will never part again. You will be by my side until hell freezes over and even beyond that.” He kissed you deeply and held you closer to him as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts. Your body tensed against his as another orgasm threatened to approach and he was just as close. His hand between your bodies moved faster against your clit, another surge of pleasure washed over you as you were sent over the edge. Your pussy tightened around his cock and that was enough to trigger his own orgasm. Thick ropes of cum filled you and coated your walls.

You both panted into each other's mouths, heavy breaths replaced all the earlier sounds. Suguru caught his composure first and his eyes lit up as he took in your appearance. “This suits you so much better, my love.” Your eyebrows furrowed a bit at his words and you turned your head to follow where his gaze had fallen. Your eyes widened at the sight, your wings had been washed with the same soot that coated his wings. “What?”

It was all you could say as Suguru pulled out of you, a mix of your orgasms and blood coated his cock and he tucked it away. “Now you can see for yourself. You can see the hypocrite he is. You have been nothing but devoted to him and this is what he does to you, this is how he repays you. In the blink of an eye you lose your spot in the heavens and gain entry into hell. This anger that you might feel towards me will soon be replaced by hatred for God, I can guarantee that. I’ve opened your eyes, now you are enlightened, not blinded by whatever bullshit he’s spewed. Now we can be together, now we’ll never be apart. I’m sorry that it had to happen this way but I didn’t know when I’d get the chance to show you. Now come on, I have to welcome you to your new home.”

He carried you off the table and held you close to him while you wrapped your arms around his neck. The thin ice that you had been treading on had finally cracked and now you had to face the consequences but at least you had your lover at your side to keep you from drowning. Maybe he was your salvation in some twisted way but that was something you had to decide. But while God had turned his back on you, you did have to thank him for one thing, you were finally reunited with your love.

taglist: @gojoest @half-baked-biscuit @lalunanymph @jozhenji @nymphoheretic @arisaturn @history-be-written @aizensballsweat @xingyunist @makisslut @sunarc @suyacho @dilftaros @satmitsuplanet @benkeibear @watyousayin

[cinnamon-girl-writes]

higuruma marriage headcanons ! . . .

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

higuruma x reader, fluff, nsfw under cut

first of all i looooovvveeee higuruma so much so i'm glad other people do and i'm not alone :')

i'm not gonna say much about dating pre-marriage

he definetly dates with the intent to get married. i can't see him as a player or someone who dates around just for fun

he'd take you on lots of dates; several a week

most of them are more modest locations like a coffee shop or the local markets, but on special occasions (birthdays, anniversaries) he books a reservation at a fancy restaurant

in a relationship and in his life i think he's very smart with money

he proposed at the spot where you met; a beautiful park in the city which was especially green this time of year

he definetly took you to get your nails done a few days beforehand and paid in full

he decided to splurge and get you a gorgeous wedding ring with a huge diamond

obviously this was well thought out and planned, and he decided that you're worth it and logically, you're going to be wearing this for the rest of your life so he wanted it to be high quality and something that you'd like

he'd definetly take into consideration whether you prefer gold or silver jewelry choose get a ring accordingly

he really just wants to have a simple wedding

mostly because he's not one for huge public displays of affection but also, going back to him being smart with money, he wants to save up for a honeymoon trip and investments like a house, furnishings, etc.

basically, he's a very logical person and doesn't see a lot of value in putting so much money into one day

that being said, he'd still make it as special and intimate for the two of you as possible with special gestures and a traditional ceremony

i can see the wedding happening in a church most likely

anyways, the honeymoon would be somewhere you've never traveled to so the two of you could experience a new place, like malaysia (iykyk), france, italy, greece, especially somewhere romantic

once y'all move in together, he'd be very adamant about holding up his end of the cleaning, cooking, maintenace, etc. even though he works a full time job. to him it's the only option; you both live there so you both do equal work to take care of the home

i see him as being a very clean and routinely person

he likes to have his morning routine before he goes to work every day: wake up next to the love of his life, sleep in for as many minutes as possible, then get up and shower, get dressed, have coffee and breakfast, and read the paper before he's on his way to work

speaking of breakfast, this man can cook. one of his favorite hobbies is cooking for you and having you be his personal taste tester

he likes to experiment with food from different cultures and other countries

sometimes date nighy with him is just him cooking a nice meal for the two of you and watching y'all's favorite movies

he loves true crime btw

also in his house this man has a huge library. like he has an office but he also has a room just dedicated to books

yea there's some law books but it's mostly miscellaneous things he found interesting: cooking books, fantasy novels, travel guides, etc.

what can i say, he'd be a perfect partner~

NSFW 🪐

higuruma is a  g o d  at eating pussy, i don't make the rules

that tongue can recite the law AND [redacted]

he also doesn't have a huge dick (y'all let's be realistic. why would you want that anyways) but this man knows how to use it

i'm thinking like 5 inches, above average girth and neatly trimmed hair but not completely gone. slight curve the the left

his favorite position is missionary 100%. this just makes so much sense to me

i know y'all are gonna say 'ass or tits' so i'll just go ahead and establish he's a tits man. yes this is the law

he has a praise kink. oh he's unfulfilled in his life and hates his job?? yea fs.

i know i said tits but this man also loves thighs. he wants to be suffocated between them

honestly 10/10 he's perfect

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 17 - The Prophetess vs. The Nun

Word count: 7,892. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter

Summary: Alastor and Mina being the power couple they are. Things get a little messy, in more than one sense of the word.

MIND THE TRIGGER WARNINGS: mind control, mass murder, graphic depictions of cannibalism, graphic depictions of torture, breeding kink (Alastor in rut/Mina in heat), religious/blasphemy kink, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, masturbation, oral (both receiving), monster fucking, tentacle sex, p&v, creampie, double penetration, sex toy/vibrator, squirting.

I can't find the artist for this image. If someone recognizes it, please tell me so I can credit them!

Series Summary:

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 17 - The Prophetess vs. The Nun

1984

When Alastor had regained some semblance of control over himself, he returned to the main room of the tower to find Mina sitting at his chair and going through his notes on Kassandra, ready to begin making plans on how to take her down.

Alastor had figured they would just show up and start destroying things but Mina had a more creative and artistic eye when it came to carnage.

Normally he enjoyed working alone. He had his work and she had hers and it worked well for their relationship that those things stayed separate. Only occasionally did they mix work with pleasure but if any situation had ever called for them to be a team, it was this one.

Mina explained to Alaster that while she didn’t necessarily have a “normal” mental connection with Kassandra, where she could possibly push back and invade the other woman’s mind, she had still succeeded in gleaming a sense of personality with the intrusive thoughts that had come along with the possession. Kassandra’s likes and dislikes, her desires, and most importantly, what terrified her.

“Lots of religious trauma with that one,” Mina said, flipping through the many pages Alastor had collected over the last few weeks. “I mean, I could have guessed that. She insulted you and I for being Catholic, even though that made no more sense than insulting herself for being raised in the Church.”

“Ah, the things we hate the most about ourselves is often what we see first in others,” Alastor said.

“She really hates nuns in particular. Must have had some run ins with a few particularly nasty ones.”

“Really? Well that’s interesting,” Alastor said with a smirk. “I think we can have some fun with that one.”

“And food, but I think you already knew that, given her history while she was alive,” Mina said, feeling her own stomach twist at the idea of eating. She still hadn’t been able to get herself to eat anything, although she was getting dreadfully hungry. “I think that’s why she targeted Cannibal Town the way she did. She’s just disgusted by them. Oh, and don’t forget racist. Which I don’t think is a result of any kind of trauma other than being from Texas. Still pisses me off.”

“Well, my dear,” he said with an unbothered grin and placing a kiss between Mina’s ears as he leaned over her from behind. “She won’t be the first white woman this mullato demon will have torn to bits.”  

With a decent exchange of information between them, they were able to formulate a plan, hoping they would be able to act on it by the next morning, depending on how Mina felt. It would have to be perfectly timed; Mina would have to be sure she could stay in control but still feel a small bit of the affects of Kassandra’s blood in her.

Tomorrow morning was Sunday, the day that Kassandra always held her black mass. And only those tainted with her blood could open the front doors of her “church.”

Evening came and Mina still refused to let Alastor take the chains off her but she wanted to sleep in their bed, confident she no longer needed to be chained to the wall upstairs.

Alastor accepted the compromise, and as much as he needed a good rest himself, he left her to sleep alone in their bed while he tried to get some rest upstairs. He kept his shadow wrapped around her, the darkness of the room making it effortless for it to take form and give her the comfort that he himself could not. Not without bringing too much temptation onto himself.

He had been stretched out on the sofa in the main room, one arm across his chest, and the other hanging off the edge, in a deep, whiskey aided, exhausted sleep, when a growing sense of alarm invaded his senses, and pulled him from the depths of his slumber.

Alastor opened his eyes to see his shadow hovering over him, its eyes and smile glowing green. He sat up as it reached for him, enveloping him in tendrils and dragging him through the floorboards before Alastor had a chance to fully wake up and comprehend what was happening.

He found himself brought into his bedroom, looking down at a sleeping Mina, while his shadow left his side and fanned itself out across the wall that the bed was tucked up against. It loomed over Mina, looking between her sleeping form and Alastor.

It was trying to tell him something was wrong with her.

Mina had kicked off all her blankets and as Alastor watched her, she fidgeted in her sleep, restless even as her eyes twitched behind her eyelids in a dreamlike state. She looked flushed, with a red tint on her cheeks and across the top of her chest, below where the heavy shackle lay.

Alastor reached over her, pressing a palm to her forehead and felt her burning up as if with fever, though she wasn’t clammy. Alarm bells rang as he wondered what new assault this was and how Kassandra could possibly have given her a literal infection of the body.

Then Mina sighed in her sleep, making a tiny, barely audible whine and Alastor pulled his hand away, understanding the situation once the familiarity of it dawned on him.

Mina wasn’t sick. She was in heat.

Alastor’s shadow felt the idea form in his mind at the same time and though it was a much simpler creature than he, it knew to grab him again and send him back up into the main room.

Once up there, Alastor sat back down on the couch, trying very hard to ignore the massive hard on he now had.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck . . . .

The mantra ran through his mind, the only clear thought he could come up with.

His rut was difficult enough. The two of them had only come into their breeding seasons at the exact same time on a handful of occasions in past years and it was always . . . an event. Mina’s spring heats were easier to keep track of and predict but her fall one was the most intense and seemed to vary quite a bit, year to year, as to when it would occur. When she did go into heat while he was in rut, it was like mixing fire and gasoline. Their hormonal urges only fed off each other’s desires. The last time it had happened, they had rented a little cabin on the far, far reaches of Pride Ring, well outside of the city limits, and didn’t leave the building, and barely ate, or slept, for three solid days. It had been the most intense, blissful, physical experience at the time but the aftereffects had left Alastor completely drained and exhausted. He understood now how real, living bucks could sometimes literally die from their ruts. And it wasn’t something he eagerly awaited happening again.

For it to happen now, when they very much needed to have their attention on other things, and Mina was already at risk of losing her mental faculties, was the worst thing Alastor could have imagined. It was difficult enough to not be practically on top of her every second that she had been around him the last two days. His body was absolutely betraying him, round the clock, his mind wandering to the most lewd and obscene ways he should be using her body.

And now the idea of her down in their bed, literally flushed with desire, likely very wet and welcoming between her legs nearly took over what was left of his shredded willpower. Not only would she not mind if he went down there and fucked her senseless, she wouldn’t be able to resist once it began; her own body would be crying out for it as much as his was.

But if they started tonight, he was sure they wouldn’t be able to stop come morning.

And the rational part of his mind, the part that was still Alastor, the Radio Demon, and not some common Cervidae demon, a slave to his own hellish form and body, refused to let go of their plan of revenge for tomorrow.

Even as he downed another glass of rye and took himself in hand in order to get a little relief from that damnable, based physical need, Alastor still wanted blood more than sex. He still wanted revenge for Mina more than he wanted Mina herself.

Maybe Abaddon was (a little) right and Alastor did crave power above all else. But if any of his desires led him to choose something over Mina, it was only temporary. By the end of the day tomorrow, he would have both his revenge and his lover . . . and his power.

He would have it all.

____

Mina didn’t even mention her heat to Alastor the next morning, though there was no way she hadn’t realized it was happening. Her pupils were always wide like she was riding the highest of highs when she was in heat and sure enough, when she looked at him as he unhooked the angelic steel shackle from around her neck, her usually vertical pupils were as dilated and round as they could possibly get.

This is why they were perfect together.

Forget how well they complimented each other in every domestic regard. Or how while alive, they had both risen from poverty during the same era, both endured racism, but murdered out of necessity and the pleasure of the deed.

It was this, this need to be powerful enough to not be messed with, this burning desire to let others know they were not to be trifled with. Mina may not have shared Alastor’s competitiveness, her desire for power was strictly a manifestation of her desire for safety, but that small difference made her even more perfect. She wasn’t competition for his position and never would be. But she could hold her own against most threats and understood and appreciated how he worked.

And though she didn’t experience touch aversion the way he often did, though she had a much larger appetite for sex and romance than him on a normal day, she could still power through the mental fog of her heat and focus on what needed to be done. Very few Sinners could say the same.

Kassandra’s black mass started at 9:00 am prompt.

At 9:05 Mina stood outside the large, imposing, and grotesquely carved wooden double doors of her church. From within, the faint sound of Kassandra’s voice could be heard, though clear words couldn’t be made out.

She had already started her sermon.

With a deep breath in, Mina opened both doors at once, leaving them wide open as she stepped over the threshold.

The pews were nearly full of ghouls, though there were several empty rows at the back. Room to grow, Alastor supposed, but Kassandra would never be given that chance.

Kassandra had stopped speaking as soon as the doors had opened, looking at first shocked, but then she began to smile as she saw who was coming in. All she could see was Mina, and it was clear Kassandra believed she had just earned herself her first Sinner convert.

Alastor moved through the opened double doors a second later, using his shadow form to drift along the walls until he solidified behind Kassandra at her podium.

In front of her entire congregation, he appeared towering over her, a taller, more monstrous version of his usual form. 9 feet of antlered, clawed, and bloodthirsty demon loomed over the new Overlord, dressed from head to toe as a nun.

“Boo,” Alastor said and laughed as Kassandra began to scream.

Mina felt the doors slam shut behind her and saw Alastor’s magical barricade form between the podium and the rest of the congregation. He would deal with Kassandra, safe behind a soundproof wall of shadow.

The rest of the ghouls were hers. And she was starving.

With Abaddon’s blood singing through her veins and heightening her power to a strength she had never known, Mina opened her mouth and began to sing.

“Take me past the outer courts

Into the Holy Place

Past the brazen Alter

Lord, I want to see Your face

Pass me by the crowds of people

The priests who sing Your praise

I hunger and thirst for Your righteousness

But it’s only found in one place.”

For a crowd this large, it usually took a few lines for Mina’s words to take hold. For the first verse, most would just stare and gawk at her as the music warped their minds, forced into a trance, until her will could be enforced. But with the power of angelic blood in her, Kassandra’s ghouls began to turn on each other by the end of the very first line.

Through the wall of shadow, Mina could see Kassandra, being strung up by tentacles, held by them from the ceiling to better enjoy the show.

Mina stopped singing, no longer needing to bother, as she marched down the aisle.

The ghouls, so starved for so long, in life and death, had been awakened to their hunger. Had been allowed to feel that burning, twisting pain Mina could feel in her own stomach, and the very desperate need for blood and meat. And the only source for that delicious reprieve was each other.

There was a surprising amount of blood in their bodies, considering how little flesh there appeared to be, and Mina was splattered more than once as she made her way up to the altar that stood in the middle of the rows of pews, and then stepped around it.

At the foot of the short set of stairs that led up to where Kassandra gave her sermons, Mina stopped, and turned her attention on the nearest damned soul.

She tilted her head, felt her jaw unhinge in preparation for its meal, and lunged.

___

Alastor smiled, a true and vicious smile, as he watched Kassandra squirm in the grasp of his shadows. The barricade was soundproof to protect them both from the effects of Mina’s singing; he wanted Kassandra as lucid and mortified as possible. But it wasn’t fully opaque. The wall was more than transparent enough to see the affect of Mina’s singing, a Catholic hymn she had thought perfect for the occasion, and Alastor could easily see the entirety of Kassandra’s cult as they began to devour each other.

He lowered the barrier, certain now that Mina had stopped singing, so they got the full surround sound affects of the screaming; along with the wet squelching and tearing noises of over two hundred bodies being torn apart and chewed on.

Kassandra began to scream with renewed vigor and Alastor loosened some of his shadow’s grip on her, just enough for her to get a real good lung full of air and scream for him even better.

With the barrier down, he could also get a better view of Mina.

She was on hands and knees, bent over what was left of the corpse of a nameless ghoul. Its rib cage was cracked wide open, and her face buried in the chest cavity. Her hands, arms, and even her hair were coated in blood, her face hidden from view as she devoured the heart, but her tail was perfectly visible as it swayed behind her.

Alastor had been wound up and strung so taut the last two days and something deep within him finally snapped and broke free as he watched Mina be her most heinous and carnal self.

For a man who had never even kissed her in public, he suddenly found the idea of taking her there in front of everyone to be incredibly arousing.

But first, he just wanted to watch her satisfy herself.

As she continued with her meal, Alastor reached his hand through his robes and began stroking himself. The long slit that he had created was not usually found on the constricting black garments that nuns wore, but this was an outfit of his own creation and he could alter it to fit his every whim.

There was a large and ornate looking chair tucked into the back of the room, out of sight from the congregation that Alastor assumed was for some kind of ritual, and he summoned it forward so that he could properly relax and enjoy the view.

He gave himself long, slow pumps, building himself up for pleasure rather than for the simple act of finishing, as he watched Mina tear out the ghoul’s liver and bite it in half. His cock twitched in his grip, letting himself succumb to the sheer amount of lust and love he felt for her in that moment.

After she finished with the liver, Mina looked up and her eyes landed on him. They flickered down as she caught the movement of his dirty deed beneath the robe and then looked back up at his face, holding his gaze. There was no disgust or even surprise in her features, just pure determination and desire.

She stood up from her crouched position, the lower half of her face painted red, the ends of her hair, the torso of her dress, and her arms up to her elbows likewise a bloody mess, and walked over to him.

Alastor rose to meet her as she approached and the chair turned to shadow, forgotten as he let go of himself and pulled her to him, grabbing her face with both hands and devouring her lips with his own. She tasted and smelled of blood and death, like power and victory; she was the embodiment of everything he cherished and craved in this world.

Mina pulled away from the kiss and Alastor could feel the stickiness of the blood she had left on his lips and enjoyed the mental image of his smiling down at her, crimson smeared across his features, adding to the blasphemous outfit he had on.

Whatever came next, he was not taking off those robes.

His cock throbbed at the thought of fucking her dressed like that, there in that church, in front of Kassandra and however many of the ghouls that were left alive.

Mina found the opening he had made in the robes and slipped her own hand through, but she surprised him when she used her nail to slice a long slit down to the floor, exposing an entire leg from hip bone to ankle. It made the robes almost appear to be some twisted risqué dress, while also giving her easier access to what she was after, and the debauchery of it only turned Alastor on more.

Looking pleased with her decision, Mina got down on her knees before Alastor and took his cock in her hands.

Before she could bring her mouth to him, Alastor grabbed a fistful of her hair behind her ears and held her still.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” she answered back.

“You like to suck my cock?” he asked.

“Yes,” she panted, never breaking eye contact.

“Pull up your skirts,” he demanded.

Still looking up at him, she let go of his erection and used both hands to first undo the buttons of her sweater and slip it off her shoulders before she tossed it to the side. Then, she bunched up her skirts at her hips. Alastor kept his grip on her hair the whole time.

“Is this how you want me?” she asked.

“God, yes,” he said, feeling almost painful with need as he stared at her exposed cleavage and the spots across her shoulders. “And touch yourself. Show me how turned on you get with my dick down your throat.”

Mina again took him in hand, guiding his shaft in her mouth, as her other hand slipped beneath the top band of her underwear and began working herself.

Only then did she break eye contact, closing her eyes and moaning as he thrust deeper into her mouth. Alastor brought his other hand to clutch at her head, holding her still as he fucked her face. The view of his cock pushing in and out of her willing lips blocked the view of what she was doing to herself, but he could see it on her face, and feel the vibration of her moans on his cock.

“Good girl,” he panted as he watched her pleasure building in her features, felt her whimpering as her fingers worked her up even as she choked on his length. “Put your fingers inside yourself. Fuck yourself for me, darling.”

He could see her shift her weight, spreading her legs a little farther and reaching further inside her underwear, and felt her moans grow deeper as she fulfilled his wish.

Alastor rewarded her by slowing down a little, not hitting as hard into the back of her throat. Mina opened her eyes and looked up at him, giving him a hard and delicious suck in appreciation.

“Hmm, keep doing that,” he encouraged, enjoying the slower, less brutal pace that allowed her to use her tongue better along his length. “That’s it, Mina, just like that.”

She whimpered, and little tears gathered in her eyes, as she shut them again.

“Oh, you’re already so close, aren’t you, my sweet thing?” He wouldn’t let her reply with words, not daring to take himself from her mouth when she was working him so well, but he could see the positive response in the way she looked at him. “Who are you going to make cum first? Me or you?”

There was a question in her eyes and he yanked on her hair, forcing her to take him deeper.

“It better be you,” he threatened, before easing his grip on her hair, stroking his fingers across where his claws had scratched her like an apology. “Or would you like a little assistance?”

A tendril of shadow snaked around his back and traveled across the floor, moving between her open legs. Alastor made it caress her inner thigh and as it touched the edges of her panties, the fabric dissolved into nothing, and the dark tentacle brushed against her fingers that were working her wet cunt.

Mina pulled her hand away, giving the shadowy appendage permission, and Alastor felt it as it entered her, curling around her to stroke her spongy inner walls. He felt her cry out and could feel the edges of her claws hitting the tentacle as she returned her fingers to her clit.

Alastor really picked up his rhythm as he slid in and out of her lips, getting off on the muffled noises she was making as he gagged her with his cock. 

She came hard and fast, his tentacle sensitive enough to pick up on the way her walls clenched and spasmed around it, and she removed her hand from herself, nearly falling forward, if not for the body pressed before her.

Alastor reached down and grabbed her hand before it could fall to the floor. He could feel his own orgasm right on the brink, and he guided her arm up enough so that he could tilt his head down and suck on her fingers.

The wet, sweet and tangy taste of her mixed with the blood of her victim excited him enough that he came right then, and Mina eagerly swallowed his release, holding onto the base of his member with her free hand.

Once he was fully finished, he pulled on her hair as she stood, bringing them together for another passionate kiss, both of them enjoying the mixed flavor of themselves on each other’s tongues.

“My turn,” he said, and picked her up, carrying her over to the altar that stood in the middle of the mass of bodies that were still actively devouring each other, and laid her on her back across the top of it.

Even as he pushed the skirt of Mina’s dress back up over her hips, Alastor was still enjoying toying with Kassandra. He used his shadows to pull her along the ceiling of the church, placing her directly above them. Let her get an even better view as he reclaimed Mina’s body and mind within the walls of her sanctuary. Let Kassandra scream as she witnessed the cannibalism Mina had brought to her door, how absolutely destructive Mina’s power could be, as he worshipped between her legs, on his knees before the altar.

Mina’s fingers had been covered in blood as she had fingered herself, leaving the small patch of black curls and pink lips of her sex painted red. Alastor eagerly ran his tongue over it all, licking her thoroughly clean, and earning him little sounds of praise from Mina.

She leaned forward, grabbing hold of his antlers that poked through the black veil he wore, something she nearly always did when he went down on her. Alastor loved it when she did that and he could feel his body respond to her touch as his antlers spread out even wider.

Once he was finished indulging and savoring the sweet mix of her natural taste with the ghoulish blood, Alastor began truly working her with his tongue. With long, rhythmic strokes from her entrance to her clit, he built up her pleasure until he could hear her gasping out his name.

Just as he had requested of her when she was sucking him off, Alastor began pleasuring himself, pumping his cock with his fist to the same rhythm his tongue was using on Mina.

“Are you? . . . oh God, Alastor,” Mina tried to say in between her little needy whimpers, “. . . fuck, love, that is so fucking hot.”

Alastor had never let Mina see him perform this act himself; not before that morning. He had made her touch herself for him before but never had he reversed those roles. But he could feel her cunt getting even wetter as she processed what he was doing and he used his now unnaturally long tongue to delve into her center, encouraged by her obvious arousal. If he had known she would enjoy it this much, he might have indulged this fantasy of hers much sooner.

He was unbelievably close for how little time they had spent in this position but judging by the sounds Mina was making, she was ahead of him.

“Cum on me,” Mina said, and Alastor’s cock throbbed even harder in his fist. That was also new but the beast within him that controlled his rut very much liked the idea of it. “Please,” she begged, “I want to watch you cum on me.”

Alastor looked up at her from between her legs, his mouth never leaving her mound, and met her eyes with his own. He hoped she could read his nonverbal confirmation and by the way she almost instantly came around his tongue, he knew she did.

His tongue slowed, giving her several lingering strokes as she rode out her orgasm, until her hips finally stilled and she began using her hands to push him away.

It was hardly a heartbeat later that he stood, pumping himself just a few more times, and then he glanced at Mina’s face as she watched, enraptured by his act as he came, leaving streaks of his creamy white seed on her skirt, inner thighs, and sex.

He bent over her and they reached for each other in tandem, kissing and groping, hands desperately roaming, grabbing whatever flesh and clothing they could reach. Mina’s dress and the nun’s tunic he wore were ruined now, both covered in visceral and semen, as they pressed their clothed bodies together.

Alastor reached between Mina’s legs, finding her pleasantly soaked down there, as he used two fingers to spread his cum between her folds, coating her more thoroughly. She moaned against his mouth and ground her hips against his hand, the added slick texture making it even easier for him to play with and tease the folds around her clit.

“Good idea, my love,” he said as his mouth left hers and began exploring her neck and shoulders. “You look so pretty covered in my cum.”

She whimpered in response to the praise and he finally pressed his fingers directly on her little bundle of nerves, rewarding her even more with gentle but quick circular movements.

With his free hand on one shoulder, and his teeth at her other, Alastor pulled the straps of her sundress down, kissing a wet and slopping pattern across her collar bone and upper swells of her breasts, leaving several bite marks along the way.

Mina sat back on her elbows, reaching her hands behind her, and Alastor watched her dress loosen around her chest as she unzipped the back. Recognizing the invitation for what it was, he pulled the obscuring fabric further down, fulling exposing both her tits, and he clamped his mouth around one erect and hard nipple as his fingers slid lower through her folds and curled them in and up once they found her entrance.

Although he was exceptionally careful with his long claws when they were inside her, making sure to only apply pressure with the pads of his fingers, he held no such reservations when it came to his teeth on her body. Mina’s breasts were particularly sensitive, and he loved to pinch and play with her nipples when he fucked her. They seemed to be her favorite erogenous zone and he had often pushed the limits of their sensitivity when she was in heat. He had even once succeeded in making her cum with nipple play alone. But he was not gentle with them like he was with her pussy, and purposefully used his teeth as he sucked and marked the curvy flesh across her chest.

Mina encouraged it with everything in her arsenal, rocking her hips against his hand as she held his head to her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, stroked his ears and antlers, ran her claws along his scalp, pressing sweet little kisses to the crown of his head, and whispering filthy things to him all the while.

He was getting hard again, his refractory period was alarmingly short and sometimes nonexistent while he was this far into his rut, and his cock bobbed in response to Mina’s panting praises as she begged him to fuck her harder, bite her again, fill her up, make her his.

She paused, the only sound coming from her being the sound of her heavy breathing and the wet noises of his fingers inside her. Around them, the sounds of pain and pleasure from those being eaten and those doing the eating, filled the air and nearly drowned out the noise of their lovemaking. Above them, Kassandra’s screams had turned to sobs of utter failure.

“Make her bleed, Alastor,” Mina said, in the same husky tone she used for dirty talk. “I’m so close, love. Make me cum while I watch her bleed out.”

Alastor head popped up from her breasts and he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her face to his as he quickened the pace of his finger fucking. She gasped in delight, her open mouth inches from his own as his smile spread with wicked approval at her words.

“I fucking love you,” he said to her and she smiled back, cupping his face in her hands, tenderly kissing his blood streaked mouth.

“I fucking love you, too,” she said, her sweet tone a stark contrast to the depravity of their situation.

Alastor commanded the tentacles of shadow that were constricting around Kassandra, holding her hostage high above them, and they responded in kind. He felt them as they began to puncture her flesh, impaling her through her lower gut as others cut through the skin of her limbs as they slithered around her.

She began screaming again, writhing in the grasp of the deadly appendages, which only made more droplets of her blood rain down from above.

Mina began to cry out as well, and her lusty shouts of pleasure harmonized beautifully with the screams of torture from the other woman. Alastor and Mina had never been interested in adding a third to their dynamic but he had to admit, he was enjoying the way the two woman’s voices blended together. He had never considered mixing his love of murder and torment with his sexual activities but the way his cock was becoming painfully hard, it was clearly a newly discovered kink for both of them. Mina held onto his shoulders, her eyes focused on the show above them, as she came undone, her walls clenching tightly around his fingers as she did so.

Even as she came down from her orgasm and her body began to settle and relax, Alastor continued slowly stroking her sex, keeping her high going. She twitched a couple times, just on the brink of overstimulation, so he softened his movements even more. He stayed patient, even as his cock twitched, hard and ready for more. Alastor took his time, kissing her mouth and neck, stroking her breast with his free hand, tenderly giving her body the small pleasures it needed to keep her wanting more.

Mina sighed into his hair as he sucked hard on her neck, right over where he could feel the hammering beat of her pulse. He felt the shift in her, the way she tilted her hips up and encouraged his fingers, and knew she was ready for more.

Alastor removed his hand from between her legs and once more took the bundled-up skirt of her dress into his fists. The orange fabric, that was now only covering up her stomach and getting in his way, disappeared at his touch, leaving Mina completely naked across the altar. 

Setting the stage for his final act, Alastor summoned flames. They burned in the air above them, fueled by nothing but his power and fury, putting a green and fiery barrier between them and Kassandra. The heat would slowly build for Kassandra as she remained suspended above the fire, first uncomfortable and then unbearable. The perfect contrast to what he was about to do to Mina.

Alastor grabbed hold of Mina’s naked hips and pulled her forward, until they were just hanging off the edge of the altar. Appreciating the new angle, she spread her legs wider and lifted them around him. He reached between them, adjusting the slit in the tunic Mina had made, until it fully exposed him and he pressed his naked pelvis into hers as his cock slid into her welcoming warmth.

He could see the reflection of the burning green glow in Mina’s wide, black pupils. She watched the flames growing above them as he began to move.

“You like that, don’t you,” he said once he got into the perfect tempo and began to fuck her properly. She was drenched, even down to her inner thighs, a mix of her own wetness and his cum, and it didn’t take long for the mess to cover himself. “You want to watch her burn as I fuck you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Mina said, every word punctuated by an inward thrust of his cock into her.

“You want to watch her skin blister? Would that make you cum for me again?”

Mina could only whine and gasp in response to his filthy words. To his amazement, it seemed like she was already close again, so he picked up his pace and began to piston into her with short, hard thrusts.

“You want to watch her burst into flames as I fill your sweet pussy full of cum, don’t you?”

“God, yes, Alastor, yes,” she cried out and then sobbed, brought to tears by the strength of her fourth orgasm.

He slowed his movements, but only to the steady in and out rhythm he had set at the beginning. Mina’s back hit the flat top of the altar a moment later, once the tension of her orgasm left her, but Alastor could still feel the tremble of her walls along his shaft, especially when he refused to let up.

She was properly overstimulated now and under normal circumstances he would give her a break. But the wild and crazed look on her face told him all he needed to know about what she wanted.

“Look around you,” he said, wrapping his hand around the bottom of her jaw and forcing her head to the side, making her look at the bloodshed and slaughter she had accomplished with her song. Over a hundred bodies left in pieces, gutted and torn to bits, and there was hardly a spot on the floor of the entire cathedral that wasn’t covered in a thick layer of blood and tissue. The other half of the cult members continued on with their newfound love of cannibalism, completely oblivious to the couple fucking on their altar.

“You did this. You wanted this,” he said, and removed his hand from her jaw only to replace it with a rope made of shadow that wrapped itself around her neck. “You’re so fucking perfect, my love. So now I’m going to fuck you as hard as I can.”

Mina shook and moaned beneath him, tears running down her temples and into her hairline as he picked up his pace again. Her sounds were audibly strangled now and he watched as her face turned red from the pressure of the tentacle at her throat, but he kept it at just the right tightness, so she could enjoy the high of being choked without blacking out.

Another tentacle sprouted from his back and twisted between his legs. He felt it grazing the bottom side of his shaft as it followed his body to Mina’s, stopping for a moment at where they were joined, and then curling lower.

Mina groaned, spreading her hips wider, as the tentacle began playing with her ass. It slid just the tip of itself in, giving soft and gentle little swirls, making sure she was relaxed and ready for more, and coating itself with the mix of their releases that had pooled there.

“Tell me you want more,” Alastor said, and loosened the tangle of shadow at her throat enough so she could comfortably speak.

“I want more,” Mina answered, her speech nearly slurred as he continued to fuck her far beyond the limits of pleasure they usually reached.

“Want more of what, my sweet girl?” he asked.

Above them, Kassandra’s screaming intensified until it was a high-pitched mewl of madness and misery. The heat from the flames had begun to warm Alastor’s back and he knew Kassandra’s skin must be beginning to blacken and bubble from the growing inferno beneath her.

Mina’s eyes had been fixed on the show above them, but they looked at him then, desperate and sure of her own desires.

“More of you. All of you,” she said, “everywhere.”

There was a whooshing sound from above and Kassandra’s screams changed into something Alastor recognized well. She had finally combusted and was now fully engulfed in flames. But the show was not over. As Alastor had first told Mina decades before, his green fire was more horrific than most as he had purposefully designed it to burn slower, defying all laws of chemistry and physics.

The tendril of shadow beneath his cock thickened and deepened, penetrating her ass fully now, and using both appendages at once, Alastor filled her up more than he had ever before. The added pressure of the tentacle inside her ass pressed the walls of her sex tighter around him than he had anticipated. They both groaned at the intense sensation, his voice full of static and guttural.

Alastor could feel himself losing control over his body. His antlers were growing impossibly heavy on his head, and he could feel his spine and limbs beginning to stretch. His focus was on so many places; keeping Kassandra suspended above them even as she burned, on the tentacle around Mina’s neck applying the perfect amount of pressure, the other tentacle pumping inside her ass, his own building pleasure as he continuously rammed his cock into her, and now he had to focus on not expanding the size of the pieces of him that were in and around Mina, less he actually hurt her, the threat of tearing a real possibility with the double penetration.

“I need you to finish for me, Mina,” he said, desperately, almost nervous. His claws dug into the soft flesh of her upper thighs, anxiously hoping he would start to feel her building beneath him again, but she just wasn’t there yet.

An idea lit up in his mind, remembering the gift he had given her just a few nights prior. He hadn’t brought the device with him but with a little bit more mental effort, he was able to feel it appear and solidify in his hands.

Mina had her eyes closed, so focused on the pleasures she could feel in her body, and the sounds of death around her, that she didn’t react when he twisted the top of the vibrator, and it began to hum. But they flew open as soon as he touched it to her clit and began moving it around the bundle of nerves.

Alastor’s balls tightened in response, not having considered the fact that he would be able to feel the vibrations through her walls.

“Oh fuck Mina,” he panted, the new sensation almost more than he could bare.

“More,” she growled, and he pressed the toy into her clit in way that must have been painful, but the way she cried out in response let him know it was exactly what she had wanted.

He tried so hard to keep his focus on her rather than how hard his cock was being squeezed inside her or how deliciously the vibrator was working both of them, refusing to let himself cum again before she had.

Mina’s chest began to rise and fall, her tits bouncing with every aggressive thrust he gave her, and she touched herself, pinching and pulling on the nipple of one bitten and bloody breast.

Alastor felt the tentacle tighten around her neck even without meaning to but Mina took it well, just moaning and throwing her head back in response.

“Come on, my love, cum for me,” he begged.

Mina opened her eyes again and looked up and then around her, as much as his chokehold on her allowed her to, getting one last look at what their vengeance had brought to this unholy place.

Then to Alastor’s initial confusion, she lifted the arm that wasn’t still teasing her breast, and brought it up and over her head, reaching her fingers out behind her as if she were trying to touch the nearest ghoul’s body.

There were still several dozens of them left alive, still mindlessly feasting on the remains of their fellow cult members.

Alastor watched as a soft golden glow shot forward from Mina’s open palm and then all at once, every one of the two hundred bodies burst into angelic flame.

She smiled for a moment and then closed her eyes, her jaw dropping open as she screamed out her pleasure, her orgasm ripping through her body and tensing every muscle she had.

Alastor felt the rush of fluid over his cock, drenching his pelvis and the tentacle beneath him.

Mina screamed on for several more seconds, and Alastor released the vibrator and his tentacles from her body, patiently letting her come down from her heightened state of bliss.

“Wha-,” she stammered as her eyes finally fluttered again, even as he continued to pump himself in and out of her, “what did I . . .”

No longer holding back his own release, Alastor loomed over her, feeling even his neck beginning to lengthen as his body changed into something far less human. Mina wrapped her arms around him, embracing his larger, demonic form.

He ignored her question, so completely aroused by her first ejaculation on him. He could tell her later what a compliment it had been to the fucking he had just given her, but right now his mind could no longer process words.

There was a second where Alastor felt Kassandra finally pass, her soul completely devoured by his flames, as her power seeped into his being.

The shadowing restraints that had been holding her up disappeared as Alastor gave himself completely to Mina, and what was left of Kassandra's charred body fell silently into the angelic flames around them.

Mina clung to his distorted body, holding him gently as only a lover could do, as he continued to rut against her, on the very brink of his own final orgasm.

Despite his increased size, she was able to slip her hand under his robes and reach around him to grab the base of his tail. She stroked it to the same beat that he fucked her, gently running her fingers through the soft fur and over the ridges of the vertebrae beneath the skin.

“It’s over, Alastor,” she whispered to him. “You can let go, now. I’m all yours.”

His release was almost instant, and she continued to caress his tail as he pumped his seed inside her, nuzzling her face into his chest as he began to relax, gradually returning to his normal form and size.

They lay together, him still inside her and becoming soft again, even as the flames began to consume the walls around them. Mina somehow kept them at bay, her command over the angelic flame increased by the power that Abaddon’s blood had given her.

She pulled off the black veil of the habit so she could lovingly run her fingers through his red and black hair, kissing his cheek and neck, all while he lay limp above her, trying to catch his breath and collect himself.

“I love you,” she said, smiling at him when he finally lifted his head and met her eyes.

“I love you,” he replied, still panting a little, and kissed her tenderly on the lips as he finally pulled himself out of her warm, wet heat.

They both sighed a little at the empty feeling. It wouldn’t be long before they were both ready for more but the flames were beginning to reach the high ceiling of the church, telling Alastor they had officially run out of time.

A minute later, the front doors of the church flung back open, and a melted form of shadow burst out and streaked away, heading for the heart of the city and the radio tower, carrying with it the two lovers as they left to enjoy the rest of their vacation in isolated bliss.

Golden and green flames mixed and began licking at the open doorway. Stained glass windows shattered and smoke and more flames billowed out from the gaping wounds left behind. Then the ceiling collapsed as onlookers began to gather and watch, unsure of exactly what had happened, but knowing the Radio Demon had finally gotten his revenge against The Prophetess.

Next Chapter ->

@inuhalfdemon @saccharine-nectarine @whoknowswhoiamtoday

[starlightbooklove]

Ok, I finally saw Journey to Bethlehem and I can't begin to express how much I loved it, I'm a very difficult person to like a full musical, which is why movies like west side story and in the heights I only liked a few songs, like as movies in general they are good, but not to my personal taste.

Furthermore, the Christian film market usually ranges from very similar, commercial and honestly boring films, to 'reinterpretations' that remove plots and things that do not go at all with the Original material So I wasn't too confident in how good the trailer looked but I was willing to give it a look, thank goodness I did.

As a Christian who was raised in the church with a Christian family, my view of religion was quite Biased by their way of looking at it Which wasn't bad, but I was focused on the religious point of view sometimes excessively, so over time as I grew up and got to know the world around me, I moved away from that, And then after I grew up I returned to wanting to learn for myself without biased opinions about the Bible and to be able to understand it and really feel what everyone said they felt.

And so I came to the conclusion that You can save your self a Lot of time, if you just read the bible as what it is: a book, full of human people with a lot of imperfections, murky, miraculous, heartbreaking, crazy, steamy and even funny (yes, I'm not lying) stories. Religion, so focused on an idea that sometimes not even the Bible itself shares, forgets the human part that fills the stories, which is not very described in it either, but that one can easily interpret.

And thanks to this, criticism of Christians is very well founded on several occasions, and many people have the mistaken idea that the Bible is a 'holy book of holy people'.

That there is nothing more false, the book is holy or is different, unique and/or sacred because of how it was written and because of the stories that happen in it And how accompanied by prayer and the real desire to want to know, you can learn a lot no matter how many times you read it, not because of the people who lived them.

Who were they, let me tell you the test of God's patience.

Do you know Moses? The dude who divided the sea (by God's guidance), did you knew that (this one's funny), thanks to the people he brought out of Egypt after the plagues and that he have to spend 40 years with them in the desert? 🙃 no, it's not a joke and no, it's not an interpretation, literally thanks to the almost constant disobedience of the Israelis after being liberated they were punished with that, and the worst thing is that God had reasons, and I'll give you an example of that, these people decided to worship a damn golden cow that they built Because Moses had taken a long time to return from talking to God (when he went to look for the commandments ironically) less than a year after being freed by God from slavery.

Moses broke the first tables of commandments out of anger, and had to go look for them again, I repeat, no, I'm not playing, this is how it happened in the Bible And it was not only for this reason that they had to stay, it was a list of things that these people did, having as a testimony and example just by being free, still had Incredible faith problems.

The generation that left Egypt never saw or lived in the promised land, the only one who saw it out of mercy was Moses, but it was the descendants who managed to enter the promised land.

Haaa, bet you didn't knew that..

So, as you can see, no, not holy and/or perfect people at all. You might wonder, what does this have to do with the movie? And I will answer you, sorry, i got inspired, but the thing is, this is basically the context of why I liked it so much.

Journey to Bethlehem, it is the story of the birth of Jesus if we remove the religion and the holy holy beautiful peacefull look that some churches like to sell, and start to unite our 4 neurons and think about what, humanly, those people thought and did under the context of that time With fire songs, good performances, very good acting, and Milo (I'm not going to elaborate, I'll just say that I gained a tremendous crush on this man lmao)

And I want to list my favorite points from this in the movie.

-The representation of Mary

Arguably my favorite part of the movie, like, this woman really made me feel what it must have been like for her to carry the son of God.

Because N1: Mary is painted as this woman rejoicing in the news that she will become pregnant overnight when she is engaged, not married, in a patriarchal society With around 1000 laws about what you can and cannot do and the things you cannot do are punishable by death, One of them being being pregnant or having a child out of marriage 🙃🤭 what a blessing right?

And N2: For years Mary has been said to be holy and worshiped when she probably wouldn't approve of that herself, since she grew up with scriptures that said they couldn't worship idols. And they made her an idol. Something to make clear is that the only holy human, biblically speaking, is Jesus. Mary was a virgin, not a saint, she had more children with her husband after having Jesus, she had a life beyond him.

And this movie brings that out, it makes the most of it and I love it.

It shows what a struggle it must have been for her to have such a burden on her, she was young (in those days people married young), perhaps a teenager, Yes, they were raised differently and at the end of the day he was about to get married, but still, as I said, the Bible leaves out a lot of the human factor.

It can say that it passes a beginning and an end but it does not give you the means to connect both parts In the Bible, Mary respectfully accepts the news that she is going to have a baby, and the film respects that, but Mary was human, you know the fear and absolute madness must cause that an angel to appear to you out of nowhere and tell you that you are going to have a son who is going to be savior and king and then disappear (appreciation for the angel Gabriel btw My man would be me if i was an angel lmao) How the hell do you explain that to your parents? To your fiancé, no matter how versed everyone was in the scriptures, no one, NO ONE thought Jesus was going to be born from a humble virgin, Literally part of the reason (spoiler alert lmao) Jesus was killed was because no one believed that the king they were waiting for was a simple carpenter who was born in a manger. This probably included Mary herself, certainly her parents, and much more, Joseph. And she knew it, of course she knew it, she knew it was true but she had to know how hard it was to believe it and how much trouble she could get into for being pregnant. It's kind of expected that Mary would have doubts, rightly so which is why I love love the song "mother to a savior and king" i just feel that it had to be exactly what she thought.

... Give me eyes to see

Just how I can be

Carrying your son when I need You

To carry me

...Should a miracle feel like an anchor

Bringing shame upon my family

This burden is too heavy

I need strength to be

A mother to a savior and king

... You said, "Do not fear"

So Lord, if you are here

Help me have the faith you have in me

Give me eyes to see just how I can be

Mother to a savior

When I need saving

Like aaaa Chills, literal chills And I love it because it doesn't occur to people how society must have seen Mary, we see it as a blessing because we know how it all ended, but they didn't know. And they lived in a very very different society, if everyone had found out, they would have stoned Mary, that is the reality that they don't talk much about at Christmas.

Another fact that I liked is that Mary had to travel, traveling in this time does not imply the same as traveling in that time, with her 9 months of pregnancy (Because she gave birth as soon as she arrived in Bethlehem) on a donkey 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I don't think I have to elaborate much, i love how they portrayed here. You can say people knew how things were, they were used to it, yes, but Maria had never been pregnant and no matter how adapted you are to something, You can't erase the physical challenge of traveling with a giant belly in those conditions.

And let's not even talk about the birth, where they were in the city that: it was full of soldiers seeking to kill her and her baby, they broadcast the news that they would be killing babies and pregnant mothers In search of finding her, which is why they did not find asylum and had to go to a stable.

I think with the idea of ​​☺️ ah, Jesus was born in a manger ☺️We forget that 💀 oh, Jesus was born in a manger 💀 I don't know about you, but I think that is not the ideal place to give birth And yet the representations of that are so sugar coated We literally have a song called "Silent Night" tell me, explain to me what part of giving birth where the animals and their excrement are because an entire army is chasing you trying to kill you, sounds like a peaceful night????

Another detail is that Joseph (who I am obviously going to talk about) logically had to act as midwife for Mary, because no one was with them, no one wanted to be with them, that sounds like a horror story honestly, and no, I'm not taking away from how beautiful the whole purpose of Jesus is and everything is.

I am only pointing out the facts, which are raw and very Real about a situation like this, this was the reality as it is written, the Bible leaves things out But the rawness in several acts is never lacking.

One last thing to add is that I was afraid at first that they would portray Mary as a feminist ahead (by centuries) of her time But in an annoying and very political way because of how the movie started, And that they were going to make her not want the pregnancy and make it as if they had violently forced her, thank God that didn't happen, i loved her, The actress did a tremendous job interpreting her with personality without losing the respect (that is noted in the Bible) Mary had for God and the giant task she was given, and I actually liked that twist That perhaps Mary and Joseph did not know each other before they got engaged, which would not be unusual at that time. And that Mary said at the beginning of the movie that she believed she was destined for bigger things 🙃.They give more personality to this icon that we all have of her and I love it.

-The representation of Joseph

Starting with the fact that I have a big fat crush now on Milo Mannheim thanks to him (not important at all actually)

I think everyone, whether Christian or not, knows that Joseph is a secondary character every time the story of Jesus' birth is mentioned, even invisible I dare say. And I was always curious because of how he leaves after he is born in the Bible, it is simply not mentioned again and this is why I think there is this kind of unconscious belief that Jesus only had one parental figure and that was Mary.

When this can easily be contradicted by the little information we have in the Bible; Joseph was known as Joseph the carpenter, and who ended up being a carpenter? (Flashbacks to Sabrina lmao) Jesus, No matter how holy and amazing he was, Jesus grew up having to learn things, he wasn't born knowing, and obviously Mary didn't teach him how to work with wood so it's pretty logical to think that his stepfather (idk How to call it) taught him. That even if we leave this out (which is after the birth of Jesus) Joseph was THE man ok And this is with biblical foundation, he believed Mary and decided to continue with the wedding despite how crazy it all sounded, he helped her during the trip to Bethlehem, ALONE, he had to practically attend the birth

And the film captures that so, so well, I have no words to describe how impressed and excited I was to see how they highlighted so many things that I knew because yk, they are in the Bible but I hadn't been aware of noticing before.

How difficult it must have been for him to make the decision to believe Mary (which, let's be honest, takes a lot of faith to believe something like that) To follow her, and his song, my God, his song is so good. It's perfect for showing a morally gray human decision and the way he delivered that presentation ugh I just feel from my heart that it was exactly what Joseph thought. Cause:

I'm completely torn in two

Half of me believes her,

while the other half needs proof

This was no inmaculate conception

Just the ultimate deception

Gilty to the bone we should have her stoned now

Wait don't you throw your stoned no don't yoy judge her i look into her eyes i think i love her

I just 🫠🫠🫠 Jesus Christ

You don't come out of that movie without half falling for Joseph and that's something I never imagined saying in my life lmao

It was a very human way, full of personality and commitment, to portray the character. beyond the attractiveness of both the actor and the goofy personality they gave him. They gave it this degree of seriousness and part of the story that shows very clearly what they themselves say in the film and that is that God did not choose only Mary, She couldn't do everything she had to do alone, and among those things was raising a child that was given to her overnight and that she had to carry for nine months, and that does not deviate from history even though there are those who say no, it is written but I think it needed the human interpretation for people to see it, as I feel that they need with many stories from the bible. They definitely took their liberty to create the love story and I'm not complaining, I never thought at all that there must have been a lot of love both between them and for God for them to be able to go through all of that, And I like to believe that if it was like that, the love they had for each other, because only someone who loves another person so much is willing to go through all that, cause very easily Joseph could receive confirmation from God that what Mary said was true and say well, that's not my problem, but he decided to take responsibility with her, Which shows why God chose them, so yes, it has its freedoms but I don't think it is essentially far from reality.

Herodes

O. M. GOOOOODDD.

Antonio Banderas ate with his performance because damn I could feel the arrogance, the complete pleasure that those kings had for being rich and powerful, with that man And he didn't have much screen time, despite how comical he gets at times he manages to show how dangerous Herod was.

That, they didn't show it but that man ordered babies and pregnant mothers to be killed in the end, just for fear that they would take away his throne and his power, out of complete caress. And Antonio showed a funny and iconic man but also dangerous and capable of that and, and also they gave him the best song.

And i'm not Even joking, 'good to be king' is what Disney tried (and failed) to do with "Wish", It has all the magic and that lyricism that shows rough and raw things with incredible music That sticks to you despite how bad the bad guy is, from the villain songs of Disney's 2D movies, It's at the level of "poor unfortunate souls" and the Interpretation, God It's one of the best parts of the movie, weeks go by and I still can't get it out of my head

Finally, the relationship of Mary and Joseph.

I feel that all our lives, after thousands of times telling us the story of the birth of Jesus, the relationship of Mary and Joseph never had any importance beyond their role in the birth. So I loved the representation of that here, the way they took this theme of a planned marriage, which could very easily have been a reality, Along with the human and emotional reaction that these people must have had at the time, they give life and depth to Mary and Joseph, with the pros and cons.

With how difficult it was but also how strong they must have been as a couple to carry out the huge task they had, it made me see it from a more human point of view and give more value to their relationship.

They took their liberties, there are things that are super funny and have that absurd touch, but it is a story full of a lot of respect for the source, and full of a wonderful and human interpretation of of this great story, You don't feel it is religious, because it isn't, the music isn't just there and they are all very good (something that doesn't happen with all musicals).

And it is simply beautiful, it is made with love and it shows, they took advantage of every penny of their budget and put out this piece of art that I feel everyone should see for Christmas And that I would like to tattoo permanently on my brain lmao.

Go watch it, it's absolutely worth it.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my entire almost essay of the movie, I hope you find your Joseph in life🫶😂

[revasserium]

pomefiore #1 - truth

vil.

the truth is — he doesn’t know what to make of you, and it isn’t like it’s the first time he’s felt stumped by something, though he’d rather give up his favorite tinted moisturizer than to admit it but… there’s something about you. you, in all your unassuming beauty — the kind that begs no attention but your own, and yet leaves no one unchanged in its wake. the first time he sees you, he is held still by the sight, the quiet weight of your presence, and the first time you smiled, he’d found himself breathless, held still by his hummingbird heartbeat, the stitch and stagger of his lungs as he fights for the air that he knows he needs and yet. “you’re staring,” you’d said to him once, long after he’d admitted to you how he felt, and not so long after you’d admitted to him that you’re not quite sure what this is but you’re willing to try. “i know,” he says, offering you nothing more than a painted porcelain smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “you can take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you tease, feeling a blush as it warms your cheeks, but vil only shakes his head, “a picture could never do you justice… what a preposterous thought.” and he says this was if it were an obvious thing, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your cheek, “and why would i bother with a picture when i could spend my time admiring the real thing?”

rook.

the truth is — he’s been a gone man since the moment he saw you, and suddenly, everything he’s ever thought he knew of falling in love, of being swept off one’s feet, of happily-ever-afters, seems shallow in the face of this — whatever this is. because he’s certain that there isn’t a word big enough for it yet, this thing inside him whenever you deign to look his way, whenever you cast him a shy glance or a smile, whenever he hears the sound of your crystalline laughter, ringing through him like so many church bells, tolling the coming of something heavenly indeed. “the descent of an angel,” he proclaims, sweeping into a too-low bow the first time you ask him what he thinks of you being here, crash-landing the way you did into the entrance ceremony. you’d laughed again, then said, “c’mon, i’m being serious!” to which he’d pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes going wide as he insists, “i’m being nothing but! do you think i’d make jest of such a momentous occasion?” and when you’d pursed your lips, blushing hard, looking anywhere but at him, he’d reached out to tilt your chin back up took at him, only to say, “i mean… what else am i supposed to think? when someone like you falls from the sky? if that’s not a blessing, then truly, i don’t know what is.”

epel.

the truth is — he’s never felt more at home that he does with you, and not because you remind him of home, the soft, lilting accent of your voice so much more melodious than his own, but when you’d told him that you like his accent, he’d gone quiet for almost a full ten minutes, trying to think of something perfect to say. he comes up blank, but by then, you’d gone back to your book, humming as if you hadn’t just shattered his entire world with a single sentence and gone about your day. so he lets himself sink into the summer-like warmth of your presence, the sweet and tang of your teasing eyes, your daring laughter, the way your tongue darts out over your apple-red lips when you’re thinking too hard. and he wonders, god does he wonder — what those lips might taste like, what they might feel like. if they’re just as sweet as he thinks they are, or if they, like you, carry a sharpness inside like a hidden knife, if they might split him open if he were to one day press his own lips to yours, for just the quickest taste. maybe someday, he’ll try, but for today, he contents himself with watching your eyes flicker back and forth over the pages of the book, and he thinks maybe someday, but tomorrow is someday too, isn’t it?

[zombiequeenblog]

I often wonder about the first time Copia saw Mouse. How he perceived her and chose to be his. What was it about her, in a Ministry full of Sisters and Brothers who would willingly give themselves to him for passion and lust? Why her? What did she have that he wanted?

Thank you for your lovely ask! You've inspired me to write the following, and I hope you enjoy:

It's here on ao3 if you'd prefer...

The first time he saw her, he nearly didn’t. Merely a glimpse of a pale face framed by darker hair, disappearing with a faint step around a dim corner, quiet as a church mouse. In his many years coming and going from here, he had heard many tales of the abbey’s resident ghosts (primarily from Terzo), but never had he actually perceived anything among the cloistered halls. Well, of course not.. what utter nonsense!

The Cardinal was on his way to his own unwelcoming haunt. Walking briskly through older passageways lit only the more poorly as he went, he stalked his own solitude as usual. A long night of his own dark interests awaited him; thoughts he kept to himself, and deeds unwitnessed by any. He sought his own time and pleasure down here, alone and unbothered just as he preferred, and yet… the sound of that little scuttling step seemed to echo within his mind. It was odd.

The second time he came upon her slight form was as he walked by in a dim and musty hallway, almost stepping on her honestly as she was kneeling, his monk straps ultimately skirting by unconcerned. She didn’t even look up. Quietly, he ascended a staircase just above, where he could pause and observe in secret her little toiling. She was real, then, but who was this little creature?

Racking his brain for only a minute, he recalled Sister Imperator mentioning a recent hire. She wasn’t a new convert then, which was obvious from her lack of habit. No, she was dressed like some kind of a maid, rather inconveniently it seemed, by the way she idly pulled down the hem of her short skirt as she carefully shuffled along on her knees, apparently scrubbing the hall baseboards with great concentration. The Cardinal shook his head a little, Sister had an archaic passion for old-fashioned dress to match the institution. Not that he really objected, mind you… it gave him a certain dignity to don the gloves and such, a power he found much pleasure in. His gaze lingered, finding pleasure in this unsuspecting domestic as well. The sleeves of her button-down were rolled up to expose delicate wrists, her dainty ankles hidden from his gaze in knee-high stockings. The sight of her body, done up so primly yet left vulnerable in the trappings of troublesome clothes just to look pretty, did something to him.

The Cardinal was a quiet admirer of beauty, and she appeared to be beautiful in a quiet way. Solitary and sweet, far too young for him if he were being proper, but he was far from proper, wasn’t he? No one knew the terrible things which brewed darkly within him, had always brewed… stronger and stronger. He stared at her pert little ass for a moment, and wondered what her panties looked like; he could have seen if she wasn’t pressing her thighs together so tightly. Vexing little thing. 

Someone was coming down the hallway towards her, and the Cardinal slunk back into the shadows for some reason. His natural reaction annoyed him; why should he feel guilty standing in his own damn home, leering at the help? 

It was Papa Secondo, and Copia stayed unnoticed where he was. Secondo stopped beside her, watching grimly, and when she felt sufficiently self-conscious she sat back on her haunches, her fine hair almost tumbling out of its precarious knot. 

“Well hello, girl.”

“Oh! Your… um… Excellency! My… my apologies…” The dulcet tones of her voice matched the rest of her, and Copia strained his ears to hear more of it.

“Quite alright, dear,” said Secondo, “I can see you’re busy, but I thought I might suggest…” He cocked his bald head down towards the scrub-brush in her hands. “Push along the grain of the board, it’s easier on the caulking, you know…”

The girl looked down at her task for a moment, and nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, of course, Your Excellency… Th… thank you!” Copia felt his gloved fingers twitching, an urge to pull the ribbon out of her hair almost taking him over.

“You’re welcome, dear.” Secondo continued on his way down the hall, and the girl went back to her work, altering her technique. 

Copia rolled his eyes; the old man was simply being supercilious. Who gave a fuck how the baseboards were cleaned? He continued to watch the girl for a minute, and when she fancied herself alone again, he noticed her pointedly go back to her previous scrubbing motion. Copia felt a little grin wash over his face; she had some spirit inside her, apparently. He liked that. 

The Cardinal continued to watch her in silence, enjoying perhaps too much the sight of her on all fours, her skirt continuing to ride up to his dark appreciation. She worked so quietly, was so quiet, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to provoke her to noise… a sweet cry or scream. She looked like she had many screams inside her.

Suddenly, stopping her motion abruptly, the girl reeled back and stiffened, holding her hand up with a faint cry. “Damn it…” he heard her exclaim, softly. She squeezed the side of her palm with her other hand, rocking back and forth for a second, and he could see a thin trickle of blood running down her wrist, even in the dim light. Poor little thing, but she didn’t even cry! He wondered if he could make her cry. 

The girl let out a little moan, sweeter than he could have even hoped for, and the Cardinal felt something less sweet stirring deep inside him. For a moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to rush forward, and subject the girl to a further kind of violence he had never indulged in before. 

Restraining himself, he stayed in the shadows, and watched her kneel there, biting her sweet lip for a moment as she looked upwards into the dull hallway light, finally breathing out her pain with a little sigh he wished he could capture. She couldn’t see him, thankfully, couldn’t see how the Cardinal stiffened his body against the wall, another part of him stiffening in such a way that he knew he’d have to relieve promptly, by himself in private. He stared at her, imagining ways he could make her do it. Force her to take him. Copia bit his own lip; she was fairly vexing, wasn’t she? And entirely unaware of it. Perhaps that was a part of her quiet charm.

With the way his intense gaze was fixed upon her, perhaps it wasn’t so strange when she finally glanced behind her shoulder with a slight shiver. Did she believe in dark things lurking in the shadows? He thrilled to see her uneasiness, the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Eventually, she gathered her things and left, stealing quietly away down the darkened hall, a ghost herself, and the Cardinal didn’t trust himself to move until she had disappeared from his sight entirely. Now was not the time to pounce. But soon… by Satan, soon… He almost felt a kind of pity at what he knew he was going to do to her.

She continued to haunt him, and the first words he ever spoke to her were an apology.

[idylls-of-the-divine-romance]

What are your thoughts about Catholicism? Very fond of your writings and musings about Christianity. Also, I hope your friend and their family is alright.

Yayyyy, I got an ask! I love talking about Christianity and I am very glad to hear that you like them. I unfortunately have not heard from my friend since Wednesday (which is not weird, so not worried yet). I will either see her this coming Wednesday, or I will at the very least see some people who can inform me so fingers crossed and still praying.

To your question: (this is roughly but poorly organized so sorry)

Firstly, Catholics are Christians. It's sad that this is such spicy thing to say, but it is. Catholics will be alongside Protestants and Orthodoxes at the resurrection should just... chill out everyone. They have not anathematized the gospel or whatever. The gospel is that despite what it looks like, Jesus is King and has come to save humanity by dying for our sins and rising from the dead so that you can be free from the grip of sin and death. No self-respecting catholic would deny that. And so no self-respecting catholic should be called non-christian.

Secondly, I'd like to just start with something i noticed that is kinda funny to me. Whenever I learn about some disagreement in church history between Catholics and some other group, I tend to side with the Catholics for aesthetic reasons and the Others for moral reasons. So like with the Iconoclasm. The Eastern Church was like "Icons are idolatry; let's destroy them!!" And Rome was like "Uhhh... no. Don't destroy the beautiful art work." So on that base issue I agree with Rome: iconoclasm is bad and art is beautiful. But there's also a deeper issue of whether the Pope has the authority or whether the other church has the right to mind their own business and with that I side with the East.

Similarly with the Catholics and Puritans in the 17th Century (which is slowly becoming my new favorite time period for literature reasons). I side with the Catholic cause like, yeah, liturgy is awesome, art is beautiful, theatre and festivals are fun (who cares if they're pagan!!), women are great (that's more of a Catholic poet thing but wtv). But on the Puritan side I'm like, yeah... there is a lot of greed and corruption and stuff in there too so...

That said: both Catholic (Cavelier) and Puritan poets during this time were freaking awesome. Is that relevant?? Idk. It's my post i do what i want lol.

But as you can see, my thoughts are always being conflicted: on one hand, Catholics make great points, on another there are also many bad points.

Thirdly, as is no surprise to anyone here, I (despite growing up and still being a devout protestant) am a lover of Catholic philosophy. Some points i really love include:

High Church: The Beauty. The Tradition. The Liturgy. Read anything any catholic has ever said about the Eucharist. It's just *chefs kiss*

The Deuterocanon. LUTHER!? WHAT THE HECK BRO! Okay so I understand why the deuterocanon is not considered canonical by Protestants. And I agree. It isn't in the Tanakh, it isn't canon. But like... can't we put them in an appendix or something??? I'm 17 years old and have never read Judith or Jesus son of Sirach or Baruch or Enoch or the Maccabees or- you get the point. Catholics have such an advantage in that these books are part of their scriptures. Also, to any protestants: no. Having a different canon doesn't make them heretics. They have a different doctrine than us, but they have the same theology. Same goes for the Orthodox churches.

I agree with the Catholic exegesis that when Jesus said "On this rock I will build my church" he was talking about Peter. Peter was most definitely the leader of the early church and to deny at least that fact is pretty foolish (Paul did a lot of missionary work, and Jacob/James was the leader of the Jerusalem Church, but I would assert that Peter was overall the leader who did a lot to bridge together Pauline and Jacobine Philosophy).

Exorcism. Demonology (I don't like this word but i don't know what else to say) is something not really talked about in Western Protestantism despite the fact that it was very important to Jesus. I don't know if the Catholic Church's official teaching on demons is like mine (I put a lot of emphasis on how demons are the "powers and authorities", as Paul says, energizing oppressive political bodies) but I do know that they put attention into exorcism and as I know a girl whose mom was possessed, I thank them for that. Demons are just not talked about enough over here which leads into the problem C.S. Lewis mentioned: either Christians are obsessed with them, or they don't think about them at all.

Sacramentology. Great. Splendid. Do I agree with them all? No, but that doesn't matter cause they're cool. I love transubstantiation and how Thomas Aquinas used Aristotle's philosophy to explain it. Freaking awesome.

That leads into the next point: Scholasticism. I like Catholicism lack of fear with engaging with philosophy and science to prove/defend the religion, like using Aristotle to explain transubstantiation. They have historically wanted to know everything about everything. I think that's great. I am a big fan of scholasticism.

Saints. No comment. I wrote about this before. I am fully convinced. Also Mary is Mother <3

Catholicism teaches that it is the church's job to make Christianity visible to the world. And as such, no other denomination (or at the very least, few others) has improved the world through hospitals and universities and art and music and literally laying the groundwork for modern science (!!!) like the Catholic Church. Militant haters may accuse you of being anti science. But don't worry. I know the truth. They are also the largest charitable organization in the world both now and historically.

Concupiscence: It is not a sin to desire to sin. Thank you Catholicism for this. Just... thank you. This should not be a controversial statement and yet!

Feast Days: Everyday is a holiday if you're catholic lol

Mary: What do you mean I already mentioned her? I can mention her twice! She's Mary Mother of God! Queen of Heaven! Drink some respect women juice (i.e. communion wine).

Some points I am confused by

Infant Baptism: So... I do believe in infant baptism. I do not believe that baptism washes away original sin. I believe that it's about covenant.

Purgatory: I am... undecided. My thoughts on what exactly happens when you die is always in flux because the bible isn't as clear as you might think (for example, over the summer i stopped believing in heaven. I did believe in the future resurrection of the dead. But i thought in between you were just... dead). At the moment I do believe that the saved go to "be with Christ" after death and the unsaved just die until all are resurrected at the end of the age. As such, my beliefs don't really require a belief in purgatory. After the resurrection all people will be allowed to align with New Jerusalem or to go into The Valley of Hinnom so there's really no point in purgatory then? I view the earth right now as a kind of purgatory I suppose. That said, it can't hurt to pray for those in purgatory so *shrugs* Pray away.

The idea that the church can forgive sins. And I want to be very clear what I mean by this. When I hear "The church can forgive sins" i think, yes. Obviously. Jesus says to forgive others and that those who refuse forgiveness will not be forgiven. Of course the church can forgive sins. I forgive my sister when she sins against me, how is that that different? That said, I've heard protestants mention this "The church can forgive sins" idea as if it was something different from what I've just said which makes me think I don't understand it.

Non Sola Fide. Okay. So.... my thoughts on this are complicated and I personally think Catholics and Protestants have more common ground on this than is thought. It's important that we don't fall into caricatures. I would assert that Catholics do believe in faith alone - at least in the way that a Protestant would define fatih. Faith is not just belief, but is a combination of that with works. If I claim to believe in Jesus but never participate in the church, I don't actually have faith. So I think this is really just semantics between the two. The issue is how you define faith.

Bible vs Church: This is complicated. The bible wasn't written by an assembly but majorilly by individuals who were inspired by God, starting with Moses and the Torah. Then a later assembly of Jews looked at other writings from their history and agreed (by the help of the Spirit and the guidance of the Torah) that these too were divinely inspired. This community that came around these texts then began to debate and discuss which texts were divinely inspired and which weren't. This carried over into the Jesus Movement where followers of Jesus were also debating these same texts, as well as new texts written by the Apostles. One of the criteria for these new texts was how they related to the older texts (i.e. no antisemitism etc). Eventually different assemblies decided on different texts but for the most part are the same. This is all well known but my point here is this: the Modern Bible was assembled the Early Church, which was a community centered around the teachings of Jesus, gathered together by the apostles. These teachings were themselves based off of an earlier group of texts assembled by a group of people who had come across texts written by mostly individuals inspired by the Spirit and the Torah. So did the bible make the church or did the church make the bible? Both. Neither. Both again. It's too complex of a history for such an easy answer. I fall in the "the bible has equal to or greater than authority than the church has."

Mary: So... I believe that Jesus' siblings were younger siblings by Mary and Joseph. If you don't, that's fine, just don't step on my throat for it. I've heard that they could be adopted, which i'd accept, or cousins, which I'd accept. What I will not accept is older siblings by Joseph. This is not possible because of birthright stuff. They would inherit the Davidic throne instead of Jesus basically. That said God loves the youngest born so *shrugs*. I also have problems with the immaculate conception. No. Just... no. There's no point to me. I think it's mental gymnastics. That said, i have problems with Original Sin period so *shrugs*. That said there is this really good article by a Catholic mutual of mine on original sin that i really like and has (possibly) convinced me so check it out. Then the assumption... uh... idk or really care for that matter. Peter was crucified upside down. Paul was beheaded. Mary was assumed. One of these is not like the other but *shrugs* sure. I have no reason to believe it, but i also have no reason not to believe it.

And finally things I don't like:

Authority over Interpreting Scripture. This is one of the things that bars me from conversion. I believe in a great importance of the individual reading and interpretation of scripture. I think the individual should look into Church history and historical traditions, philosophies, and such, but I think the individual should, nonetheless, come to conclusions on their own and wrestle with the scriptures. I'm not saying this doesn't happen in catholicism, but I am saying that I think the way I think of scriptural reading is discouraged. I don't like the idea that if I interpret Ezekiel differently (that he's not talking about Mary's womb as a gate that only Yahweh passes thru) I suddenly can't be Catholic. My interpretation is just different.

So... yeah lol

[smoooothoperator]

What a Shame

02: Love Story

Driver! Charles Leclerc x Singer! OC (Juliette Morelli)

Exes to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Childhood Sweathearts

Summary: she has to deal with him on her own way, and he has to deal with the consequences

Words: 2.5k

warnings: Lando x OC, charles being stupid, flashbacks are on italics. Love Story

Official Playlist (I will add more songs as I write)

Every interaction is very welcomed!!!!!

Masterlist

previous part | next part

a/n: hi hi loes!! welcome to de second chapter of this beautiful sroty i'm making!!! if you want to be tagged don't forget to massage me!!

🎤

He's here.

Charles Leclerc is here. Of course he is! Why did I never think about it? He is Pierre's best friend. He's one of those drivers that would come to the wedding.

"Shit, shit, shit" I groaned storming out of the room even before Valerie walked in.

"Juliette!"

I sigh and take a deep breath. She saw me, fuck!

"Hey, where are you going?" she asked me worriedly, walking towards me.

"Why didn't you tell me he was coming?" I asked her, hurt. "Why didn't you tell me Charles is Pierre's best man?"

"Because I wanted you in my wedding, Juliette! I wanted you to be here even if he was here" she sighed holding my hands. "Do this for me… Please?"

I look at her taking a deep breath. The last ten years the only moment I thought about him was while looking at the calendar and watching the day when he broke up with me. Every year I wrote my frustrations down in a notebook and those words became songs. And now he's here, standing next to Pierre and clearly not bothered.

"He better stay away from the entire weekend" I said walking back inside, sitting back on the chair and looking at him one last time before moving my eyes to the other side of the room.

The rehearsal of the wedding was quick, they just skipped their vows and the exchange of rings, just doing what they had to do to make sure everything was ready.

"The dinner will be at the restaurant of the villa" the maid of honor said to the few people that came to the rehearsal in the church.

I got up when I noticed his eyes on me, looking away and walking out of the church. The villa is not far from here, just to the other side of the village.

I took a deep breath and looked around, swallowing thickly when I heard him call my name. No, no.

"Oh god, you are Juliette Morelli?" a man asked behind me, making me turn around and smile.

He had curly brown hair and bright eyes, a British accent and a cute smile.

"I am" I smile, looking at Charles for afar walking towards me. "And you are…?"

"Lando Norris" he smiled, walking with me as I started the way towards the villa. "One of Pierre's friends"

"Yeah, I imagined" I nodded smiling.

While we talked I felt his eyes on the back of my neck. I know he's looking at us, I wish I knew what he was thinking.

"I guess you are staying here in the villa" Lando smiled looking at me. "Which room?"

"Oh number 203" I said smiling. "I'm Valerie's best friend, so…"

"Oh? And how is it that you are not her maid of honor? I thought every girl does that?" he frowned, making me laugh weakly and shake my head.

"I'm tired of being a maid of honor, so… Hey, but I'm going to sing at their first dance" I laughed.

"So I'll be at a free concert of Juliette Morelli?" he laughed.

I looked at him and bite my lip. Maybe I can have a little fun with him, just to get Charles out of my mind.

The dinner was a little messy. Kids around, parents trying to control them, Pierre and Valerie nervous and just to add to the mix, Charles was killing me and Landon with his eyes all night.

"So tell me, which song will you do tomorrow?" Lando asked me, leaning on the back of his chair.

"Hm, is a surprise" I smirk. "The only hint I'll give you is that it's a gift I made for them"

"A new song?" he said surprised.

"Yeah" I nod smiling. "I don't think I'll drop it, actually. Is a song I wrote for them and only them"

Lando was someone I could talk easily with. He liked many things and always had a way to start another conversation with me. At least it helped me to not think about him during the dinner.

When people started to go back to their rooms I just got up from the table, going to grab a drink. I just felt like I needed to drink something to stop my own instinct: going to Charles.

"I'm going to grab something to drink" I told Lando, getting up from the chair and looking down at him. "You coming?"

"Oh, I… Yeah" he nodded standing up too.

I smiled and bit my lip, looking at him. Yeah, I could have fun with him tonight.

"Juliette" I heard him say my name, making me stop my steps, freezing.

I wanted to keep walking, to make my legs work. But it was like they were jelly, shaking when I heard his voice. Is deeper than ten years ago, he still keeps that french accent I once loved, but the way he said my name is not the same he used to say it.

"What? You know her?" Lando asked him, surprised. "Dude! You know I'm a fan and you never introduced her to me!"

"Can you leave us alone for a minute, Lando? I have to talk with her" he sighed and I just took a deep breath when I saw Lando walk away.

Well, there goes my chance of having a funny night. Thank you, Charles.

"Don't you dare to hook up with him" he said on my back, making me turn around and look at him, incredulous.

"First of all, who I hook up with is none of your business anymore" I said frowning, looking at him disgusted.

"It is when he's my friend!" he exclaimed, making me laugh.

"Really? The first thing you say to me after all this time is that?" I laughed shaking my head. "How ridiculous"

"Juliette, I-"

"No, Leclerc" I said frowning, pointing my finger at him and making him shut up. "You are no longer my boyfriend. Not even my friend. You don't have any rights to tell who I am allowed to fuck and who I am not. I'm over you"

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to all your Grammy winning songs about me" he said crossing his arms, a mischievous grin on his lips.

"Fuck you, Leclerc!" I exclaimed and walked away.

He doesn't have any right to do this to me. He was the one that ended things, the one that said I was distracting him.

I just walked the way I saw Lands leaving, smiling relieved when I saw him sitting on one of the highchairs of the drinks bar.

"Do you two know each other?" he asked me, making me sigh and roll my eyes.

"Unfortunately" I sighed.

He looked at me and I just turned around, ordering a glass of whiskey and taking a sup of it after the bartender served it to me. I heard Lando humming and saw him nodding, looking in front of him.

"Well, he's looking at you" he said and I just sighed groaning.

"Good for him" I scoffed and looked at Lado, biting my lip.

I saw him looking at me and I just smiled, resting my head on the palm of my hand. He smiled back, taking a deep breath and leaning his back on the bar.

I bite my lip and smirk, cupping his cheek with my hand and leaning on him quickly to peck his lips, pulling away and chuckling.

"You are cute" I said smiling, looking at how he blushed and laughed nervously.

"Hm, you are too" he smiled, biting his lip, licking afterwards. "But why did you kiss me?"

"Oh, because I wanted to" I laughed. "I mean, if you have a girlfriend I'm so sorry!"

"No, no, it's okay" he laughed. "I'm single as fuck"

"Good, me too" I said, making him laugh. "Come to my room"

"What? I… Are you sure?" he frowned surprised, quiet shocked.

"Hey, let's just have fun" I said, nudging his side. "We're two single people at a wedding. Believe me, I know for experience how boring that is"

I looked at him and by the corner of my eye I saw Charles leaving mad, just making me smile at Lando more.

Good. Let's have fun.

🏎️

I wanted to talk with her. To hear her voice, her laugh.

But that didn't go how I wanted it to. I heard her voice, but not while she talked to me but to Lando. I heard her laugh, caused by Lando. I saw her smile, while she talked with Lando.

"Dude, you are staring again" Pierre whispered in my ear, making me jump on the seat and gasp.

"Pierre! Dude, stop doing that!" I exclaimed.

He laughed and it made me groan. My eyes went back to her, sitting with Lando and touching his arm while she laughed at something he said, throwing her head back. That means she's having fun for real.

"Why don't you talk with her?" Pierre asked me, making me frown and look at him.

"Are you for real? You saw how she reacted when she saw me in the church not long ago" I scoffed. "You really want to see her screaming at me?"

"I mean… You kinda deserve it" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Now you have to deal with the consequences, all by yourself"

I looked at him frowning, kinda hurt with his lack of support, and looked down at the plate with food.

Hearing her laugh makes my appetite go away because I'm not the one causing it.

After some hours since everyone finished their dinner, people started getting up to go to their rooms or to the drinks bar, and I was still sitting on the table doing as if I heard what Valerie and Pierre were talking about.

They are not getting up. She's sitting closer to him. He rested his arm on the back of her chair. She's doing that thing when she feels relaxed, playing with a little strand of her hair and twisting it on her finger. They are sitting too close.

But then she got up and he followed her, looking back at the drinks bar.

Then my legs worked alone, making me stand and walk towards her. My lips worked alone and pronounced her name, and I hated it because it sounded different than when I used to say it.

I heard her heels stopping, how she took a deep breath. I ignored Lando, not looking at him and just fixing my eyes on her. She turned around and I just felt the world stop.

She looks more beautiful than ever. Her eyes are different, they don't look at me the way the used to. Her lips are no longer making that perfect smile she used to gift me. She's skinnier, but her body is perfect, all the curves she had are better and made her look more mature, more adult.

I didn't plan what I wanted to say to her, but it definitely wasn't what I said. I didn't want to argue with her, but watching her with Lando made something grow inside of me that I never felt before. Hearing her say that she's over me, even if I deserve it, made me feel angry, but I didn't have the right to say those things to her.

"I am stupid" I groaned to myself when I saw her walk towards Lando again, watching how she sat on the high chair and talked with him.

But what hurt me the most was when she kissed him.

That's not the Juliette I once knew. That's not the person I fell in love with. She's someone else right now. Someone, even if I hated to admit it, I was destroyed.

I felt many emotions inside of me. Anger, jealousy, pain, anxiety. All the emotions I had buried in the deepest part of my soul are now getting out of that box, coming to the surface and exploding right in front of my face since the moment I saw her a few hours ago.

I never wanted to recognize it, but now watching her with someone else makes me regret what I did to her.

I just walked out of the building, sitting on a bench that was under fairy lights. The place is beautiful, Pierre and Valerie made a great choice with this villa.

I remember when Juliette and I were younger, dreaming awake on the bed while holding each other how our future could be. She used to tell me that she would be my trophy girlfriend if I was her trophy boyfriend. That she would go to my races if I went to her concerts.

I still remember how I played the piano with her when she wrote her songs, helping her with the melody and finding the right notes for it. She was always a genius with words, writing beautiful poems that she transformed into songs.

"Hey, I just had an idea" she told me, sitting next to me on the couch with her back notebook and a book in her hand. 

"What are you doing reading Romeo and Juliet?" I laughed when I saw the title of the book, grabbing it and opening it to find some lines highlighted. 

"I just wanted to write a song, you idiot" she laughed, taking the book away from my hands. 

"Remember when I told you that the way we met reminded me of their story?

"Yeah, at the annual ball the prince does" I nodded, smiling at the memory. "Your dad really hated me that night"

"He was just overprotective" she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I just... I just wanted to write a song about us, you know?"

"That's so beautiful" I smiled, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to me. "Any ideas?  You already have the lyrics?"

She showed me the notebook and I just smiled reading it, falling for her even more. 

"Wait, let me add something" I said, grabbing the pen and writing the last verse.

Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone. 

I love you, and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say yes

"Wait, what?" she gasped, making me laugh.

"If this song is our story, it should end this way" I said while playing with her hair. "This is a promise, yeah?"

"It's a promise" she said smiling, looking at me.

I looked up at the dark sky full of stars and smiled sadly. I made many promises to her and broke most of them.

"I am so stupid" I sighed, closing my eyes defeated.

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights

[romanarose]

Quality Time with the Triple Frontier Boys

Triple Frontier Master List

All fanfic master list

Thoughts on the TF boys expressing their love for you through Quality Time.

Acts of Service Physical Touch Word of Affirmation

Warnings: References to smut (what can i say), references to religion, church etc, references to past child abuse

Benny Miller

Benny Miller is game for almost anything, any time; he loves fun. In fact, that's how you and him met! You and some friends had gone out for lazer tag and ran into Benny, Will, Santi, and Frankie. You found out later that they were all on a former special ops team, but you and your friends kicked ass (Santi insists it was because Benny was so distracted by you) Since then, you like going out for fun activities, sometimes just with him, sometimes group activities with your friends, like escape rooms. Benny was a great person to do this sort of thing with, because he didn't care if he won or lost, Benny was just happy to spend time with you and the ones he loves. Benny gets to know your friends too, making plans that include them and inviting them to come over for a movie if you were feeling down. He was happy to spend time with them, if they were important to you, they were important to him.

*

You soon realized why he was so ready to embrace your friends and family. Benny grew up in abuse, his dad beating him, and his mom too drunk to pay much attention, leaving that to Will. Because of this, Will was extremely important to him and when you first began dating, you were quick to invite Will, Santi, and Frankie over. Benny was buzzing with excitement, telling you how you're going to love them how much they are going to adore you. You were so nervous; you knew how much their approval meant to him. What if they didn't like you? Would Benny leave you? What if they were mean? What if Will thought you weren't good enough for his younger brother? Within a minute of meeting them, you knew your worries were for nothing. Benny's friends and brother were three of the nicest men you'd ever met, and quickly embraced you as their close friend's girlfriend. Dinner went well, and by the end, you felt like you belonged with them. As they left, Will welcomed you into the family. That night, Benny showered you with kisses as he grinned, thanking you for such a good night.

Santiago Garcia

Santi also loved a simple night in... but sometimes he liked a night out, which you were happy to provide. Sometimes it was going out with his friends, but sometimes it was just him and you on the dance floor, bodies close together, or him spinning you around and around, whichever way you prefer to express yourself through dance. Santi loved watching you. He thought you were beautiful with or out without getting dressed up, but he couldn't help how his heart swelled with pride watching you all dolled, hanging on his arm, his and only his. He looked how you looked in a dress, romper or a nice suite, he adored your done-up hair or a beautiful head covering that you chose to match the outfit you wore, and the primal part of his brain liked knowing that other men stared at you, but they couldn't have you. Most importantly, the music and dancing made you happy, and there was nothing Santi loved more than seeing you happy.

*

You love simple pleasures, there's nothing you love more than to lay on the couch with Santi's arms wrapped around you and watching TV. Trailing his fingers down his strong arms, focusing on his steady breathing, wiggling your butt into his crotch... okay you'd be lying if you didn't admit you liked how it often lead to sex, but a different kind of sex than many of your other ventures; it was slower, sensual, taking time to appreciate his body and taking each other in. But it wasn't just about sex, you were more than happy to simply be. He was your home, and nothing felt better than simply existing in his safety.

Will Miller

Will was the classic romantic partner and you realized this very early on in your relationship. You could always count on him to bring you flowers 'just because', dressing nice to make a good impression on your family or friends, a kiss on the first date but nothing more until he felt the time was right and you both were comfortable, and romantic dates were a most. Of course he took you out to nice restaurants, always planning ahead to make sure they had options for you if you had allergies, were vegan or vegetarian, or religious restrictions, but he also planned dates with more effort. The petting zoo became a favorite between the two of you, something simple on a nice day, seeing the animals, maybe bringing a picnic, maybe getting warm apple cider if it's cool out, or ice cream if it's warm. Will liked being able to just hold your hand, letting you talk or just enjoying the sound surrounding you, it didn't matter as long as he was with you.

*

Will had a lot of skills. He was an excellent marksman, a good leader, but his best skills were with his hands, which you could absolutely vouch for. Outside of sex, Will was skilled in many things considered masculine: cars, work working, plumbing and so on, and as much as you could manage things on your own, it was, admittedly, very nice to have a big, strong, man around the house to take care of these things for you. You didn't just leave him to it, however, you enjoyed spending time with him while he worked. Admittedly, it was a bit of a turn on to watch him, all manly, but you did genuinely like watching him; he took such pride in his work. So, you bring him out some coffee to the garage or a snack while he works on the paneling of your house. Pulling up a chair, you ask him to explain what he's doing. Warmly, Will smiles at you, and begins to tell you how it worked. He was clear, but never patronizing, but it still largely went over your head. It didn't matter though, because he'd always be there to do it. Over time, you learned a few things, and would begin to help him. Maybe it would go by faster if you weren't 'helping' him, but it didn't matter, you were just happy to be here with him.

Frankie Morales

What was important to you was important to Frankie, and that was that. If you were really fucking into the MCU, he'll go to the midnight premier, even if he thinks its cheesy. If you have a band you really love, he'll go with you, even if crowds make him nervous, having you go alone would make him even more nervous. Waiting in long lines for hours didn't matter, being with you was enough. And, if you were religious or spiritual, Frankie would be there for you with that too. If your region allowed outside people to worship services, he'd go with you when able, especially on holidays or if your whole family was going. If you weren't a part of anything involving a physical place of worship, he'll do his best to support you, creating a nice area for you to pray, or buying religious items. Frankie will support you in anything that brings you peace or joy or is a part of you.

*

And like he supported things important to you, you supported things important to him. You loved cooking for Frankie, trying out new recipes and fun themes, enjoying sharing parts of your culture and life with him, whether food your grandma used to make, a food that was important to your family's home country or religion, or even just something you ate growing up from your city. Frankie always showered your food in praise, but one day he made an off handed comment about wishing he could make you some Chilean food. Frankie can't cook for shit. It was just something he said in passing, but it stuck with you. A few days later, Frankie came home to the dinning room table filled with food that he quickly recognized. "Carino... what is this?" You explained that you called his mom, and asked what his favorite foods were growing up, and she was kind enough to text you the recipes. You spent the evening eating with him, trying a little bit of everything as he explained about the food, and sharing memories of growing and the good times with his family.

*************************

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Relbogs help a LOT, comments mean the world to me! The last one is gifts, and im kinda stumped. I love giving and reciving gifts but i dont fucking know how to write it, so if you have any ideas, comment! Im so glad you guys have liked this so much!!!! I hope you check out my other Triple Frontier fics!

@welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @kittyofalltrades @luciannadraven33 @littlenosoul @jake-g-lockley @milkymoon2483 @in-between-the-cafes @howaboutcastiel @miraclesabound @bitchyglitterfox

[profanepurity]

I am here to knock on your door and peer inside for any Sister Diana and Bellamy info, because this is my fave AU now. I am very greedy and wish to know more (also Secondo being a girl dad, MY HEART)

Not only is Papa Emeritus Secondo a girl dad, but Bellamy also has two very evil satanic cardinals for uncles that watch very R-rated horror movies with her when they babysit. Don't worry, Copia always fast-forwards through the really bad parts, despite Terzo saying "she already knows about that stuff". Bellamy loves horror movies (and spending time with them), but C still got her that rat plushy for when she spends the night- which she named Lumaconi.

Lol so this response got super plot-driven, which is why it took ages to finish, I’m so sorry about that! This is going to focus mostly on how Secondo met Sister Diana when he was a Cardinal under Primo’s papacy, the ‘ghuleh’ that haunts the mortuary, and baby Bellamy. I really wish I could have rendered these, but I just didn't have the time unfortunately 😞

TW: This gets spicy. There are mentions of sex and suggestive imagery, but nothing explicit. Also TONS of angst. Mentions of death and blood. 

Thank you so much for your ask. Your support means the world to me! Enjoy 🖤

Diana was taken in as an orphan by the church as a young teen. Despite her unknown family history, she quickly grew accustomed to her new home at the ministry. She met Eliza when she began training to take her official vows. Their relationship started out as mentor and mentee but grew into a friendship once Diana had taken her final vows. Despite there being a bit of an age gap, they quickly became very close. Diana would often pull some of Eliza’s darkness out of her, encouraging her to “have some fun”, while Eliza was more the voice of reason. After Primo and Eliza married, you better believe Diana’s teasing was relentless, and even more so when Eliza was made Prime Mover. Though this came to bite Diana in the ass when she started eyeing Primo’s first younger brother, much to Eliza’s delight.

Primo seemed to ascend from a Cardinal to Papa in the blink of an eye, taking Eliza as his Prime Mover and promoting Secondo to a Cardinal. Secondo was of course no less lively decades ago than he is now. His reputation among the siblings of sin and even to a few outside followers/ connections with the church was nothing short of promicuous. While he continued to appreciate the pleasures of the flesh and substance, Secondo was perhaps lesser known to be quite active within the dark arts. His nose was either in a grimoire or a porn mag, no in between. 

Diana had taken her place overseeing the mortuary of the church, having a fascination with the dead and the dark powers that collect the soul as they are taken to Hell. When Secondo happened to find himself drifting towards the art of necromancy, the mortuary was the first place he looked for “research materials”. The first night Secondo met her, Sister Diana had been sewing a newly dead sibling back together after she had embalmed them and performed the ceremonial ritual to send off their soul. This hauntingly gorgeous sister, clad in a white, bat-like Cornette, with a cold gaze that would often unsettle other siblings of sin, lifted her eyes to him, and allowed the corners of her full lips to curl in a small, but controlled smile. There was no shyness or intimidation on her face by the sight of Cardinal Emeritus II, like so many siblings often had. She moved like a ghost around her table, silent, floating like a flower petal. You could say it was Asmodeus himself who brought them together, consuming them with the delightful sin of lust. 

Diana was charmed by his demanding presence and intense stare, and her odd serenity and striking beauty enamored Secondo. It was suppose to just be a one time thing. One night turned into two, and then a month later Secondo was having her sit on his lap while sipped on scotch, her hands resting on his chest as music served as pleasant background noise for them to enjoy eachother’s bodies tol. Then they were driving with the top down through the night lit streets of LA, and he got to see her hair whip around her face, free from her habit, as they went club to club; drinking, laughing, fucking. Next thing he knew Secondo awoke one morning to a spare toothbrush in his bathroom and spare clothing having found a permanent residence in his quarters. What shocked him more so was that he didn’t seem to mind.

At first, Secondo assumed these many shared nights were what caused him to find himself coming back to her time and time again. It was only natural, to bond with someone, it had been a year at this point after all. But what he would never admit to himself, was that the long, deep conversations he would find himself sharing with her within the private walls of his quarters, late at night, made him feel connected to someone else in a way he’d never been before. No, seeing the same lust within her for both carnal explorations and for knowlege of the dark arts that he shared himself was not at all attractive to him. Waking up to her presence in his bed, wearing his shirt, sharing his warmth vulnerably, showing her trust in him despite being reserved and isolate to nearly everyone else, did not melt his heart in the slightest. 

Sister Diana challenged him as an equal intellectually. Secondo knew of Diana’s unwavering nature, her own ambitions and independence, yet she allowed him to hold her. To lead her in a dance. To keep his hand on the small of her back as they walked. She willingly submitted her body to him, as he did to her too, behdind closed doors. 

He loved the way she would look at his younger brother Cardinal Emeritus III, not with carnal desire like some of the other siblings, but she would rather toy with him and match his own advances in a playful manner. Not once did Sister Diana look at anyone else like she looked at him, and only he would ever know that.

All that being said, Secondo has never, and may never be exclusive to anyone, as monogamy was never something he was drawn to in his life. Thankfully Diana felt the same way about her own sexuality. They silently understood this between eachother, despite never actually having a real conversation about it. Still, they would sit in the library for hours as they studied together. She would come up to the quarters of the high clergymen and massage his shoulders as he finished paper work. He would come down to the morgue to bring her coffee and food when she would be working nights. There was no denying their love for eachother.

Their meetings fell into a comfortable routine. So you can image how it confused Secondo when Sister Diana wasn’t in the mortuary at the time she usually was every other day. How it started to make his brow crease when he couldn’t find her anywhere else in the church. The Cardinal found her in the very last place he chose to look for her in. Perhaps if he had gone to her room first, things would have been different. Perhaps he wouldn’d have found her lifeless body, mutilated and pale, blood already beginning to dry upon her skin and the carpet as she layed on her bedroom floor. 

I briefly mention this scene in one of my one shots, “Child of Her Grave”, but of course I’m slightly changing how it goes already lol. But anyway, the family was in shambles to say the least.

Secondo had come to Primo in a daze. He didn’t know how long he stayed by her body, completely shell-shocked at the sight until he decided to knock on his brother’s door at 2 in the morning. The unlit halls of the church disguised her blood that now stained his cheek and clothing. He simply told Primo that Sister Diana had been killed, unable to utter anything more. 

Her death occured on the same day that an incredibly important ritual needed to be performed. It had only been hours after Secondo told Papa Primo that he was now faced with having to tell his Prime Mover that her best friend had been murdured over night. 

The combination of seeing his brother struggling to process finding his lover’s body, and holding Eliza against him as sobs racked her body, was the most torturous thing Primo had ever experienced. But they were left with no time to process their grief.

The higher clergy, along with Sister Imperator, were adamant with Papa Primo that the ritual not be delayed simply because of one sibling’s funeral. But when Papa didn’t come when he was summoned for the ritual, several Bishops stormed his quarters in anger and frustration at the delay of the incredibly time-sensitive ceremony that still needed hours of prep work before dawn. Primo was considered one of the more patient Papas that was very difficult to truly anger, yet he didn’t feel an ounce of remorse as he killed one of the Bishops for daring to raise his voice while Eliza was shaking violently against his chest.

Her burial ceremony was quiet. Secondo sat by her grave afterward and refused to move. It broke Primo’s heart that he wasn’t able to attend with Eliza and his brother. He got there as soon as he could, heading straight to his cardinal. He had been aware of his relationship with Sister Diana, it had been obvious to Papa that the year they spent together has made his brother close to her, even if Secondo himself refused to admit it. He could only imagine his pain. Someone was standing over his brother- who he barely registered, thinking it was their father Nihil deciding to be present. Primo was not prepared to see the wrath of Satan in his brother’s eyes. He should have known then that Second Emeritus was planning something in his silent anguish, but Primo found a brief sense of relief knowing the Old One was with him when he couldn’t be.

The ritual had required Carinal Emeritus III and Cardinal Copia to be in attendance of course. The roles of the two satanic princes of the church had been flipped. Terzo was the one now wringing his hands and stuttering over his words. Both of them wanted to be with Secondo, but Copia sent him off before they left the offices of the higher clergymen. It was important that at least one of them was there.

Terzo felt his heart hammer in his chest as his legs carried him across the cemetery.Even when they were boys, Terzo had never seen Secondo cry. His brother was always so stoic. Secondo took everything in stride and grace, and demanded nothing but authority in every situation. But when he reached his destination, Terzo stared at a man that was just as lifeless as the bodies six feet under them. 

He was almost afraid to touch him. He didn’t want to upset his brother further, but Terzo couldn’t bring himself to leave either. The younger brother’s throat tightened and he stood rigid- but soon eased himself beside his superior dark Eminence, sitting on the painfully cold metal bench that faced her grave.

He held his breath for Secondo to snap and tell him to fuck off, he almost wanted him to, just to have a sign of normalcy from his brother. When that never came, he slipped his arms around him, and just press himself as close as he could, remaining silent. When there was still no reaction from Secondo, he laced his hand in his and squeezed.

 “Ti voglio bene...”

Terzo hated how his voice shook and cracked when he whispered it against Secondo’s shoulder. He needed to get a fucking grip- 

Weakly, Secondo finally squeezed Terzo’s hand back. Oh- Lucifer, he can’t cry. That’s all it took for Terzo to press his face against his brother’s shoulder and hug him tightly. 

Thunder raged in the distance when Terzo’s blinding white eye spotted one of Nihil’s ghouls walking over to Imperator at the top of the stairs to the church's entrance. The sight of dried blood on black fabric made violet lightning split the sky- before an explosive peal broke the silence.

To this day they still don’t know exactly which ghoul murdered her.

As soon as the moon had cast a blinding glow upon the cemetery did Seconod’s mourning cease. He has been mentally preparing to recite the words of the many grimoires he’d read with Sister Diana, realizing that the dark arts had brought them together for a specific purpose, in this moment, he would raise her from the earth. It needed to be done before the decay of her internal organs began. It was the most demanding casting Secondo had done at that point in his practice. But by the time the moon was at its peak in the sky, Diana rose from her grave, her skin sickly, bones snapping back into place and mending her body where it had been broken. Standing in a horrific sight from the hole she clawed herself out of. Her hand’s blacked and clawed, raw from scratching out of her own casket. Yet she smiled at him like the day he met her.

Now you can really imagine the family’s reaction, seeing the dead sister walking through the halls the following day of her funeral. Sister Imperator seemed especially stunned, for whatever reason. I’ll have to draw some of these reactions later lol.

Thankfully not much changed after that, as Diana kept to herself mostly, her returned presence was not immediately noticed by the rest of the church. The siblings would of course rumor that a ghost haunted the mortuary, with exposed bone and rotting flesh. None of this was true of course. Secondo only noticed she was colder to the touch now, and smelled more like the earth, but her beauty and mind were in tact. He knew why Lucifer brought them together that day with necromancy, and he was now more driven than ever to master the evil forces. 

Nonetheless, Cardinal Secondo and Sister Diana were very happy to be reunited. Bellamy was born just a little over a year after her mother’s resurrection, as physical proof of that rejoined love. 

Currently, in the timeline of this au, Bellamy is now seven years old and Second is now Papa Emeritus II. There will be more content to come with her, I know this response is getting stupidly long lol. For now, I’ll end it with this goof ass doodle of Bellamy’s dedication ceremony to Lucifer and Lilith, actually led by Papa Nihil, who shockingly volunteered to dedicate his granddaughter to the Lords of Hell at the altar. 

Primo better get a comfortable ass seat in hell for the shit he puts up with.

That’s all for now 💐🖤

[axailslink]

The heart of a man

Rosalie Otterbourne x poc FEM reader

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: You have a diary in which you express how you want to be with a woman it finds its way into Rosalie's hand and she finds herself fascinated because she relates to too many of your words.

Snippet from the fic: “ You turn on your heel to approach the door but Rosalie grabs your arm firmly "with your permission I'd like to read the rest." ”

Everyone in the church scatters like roaches as church service finds itself coming to an end. Rosalie is of course one of the last as she speaks with the preacher asking about his family and well-being. When she turns to dismiss herself from the conversation she bumps into you and you're smitten. You know of Rosalie because everyone knows of Rosalie.

Rosalie is the embodiment of the word "independent" she was well raised by her aunt Salome Otterbourne and is also a bit like her in many ways but they differ when it comes to beauty. Rosalie's beauty is unlike any other her sharp facial features draw you in first then her alluring eyes will hold you in a demanding stare and soon your eyes will find their way to her lightly glossed and very kissable lips. You're brought back to reality when Rosalie speaks in that very distinct voice of hers "my apologies Y/n I hadn't noticed your presence" you shake your head "no you're perfectly fine Rosalie I was just leaving." The pastor sighs "you were trying to leave without my knowledge so I couldn't ask you to sing for the choir next Sunday? I've heard that voice you've got on you girl. Why don't you use it? Come sing for us." You place your leather journal down as you engage in conversation with the very persistent pastor.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

After convincing your pastor you'd make the church burn in flames if you sang, you leave in a hurry to get away before the first lady could try to convince you otherwise.

Rosalie finds herself staying behind to help clean. When she's finally finished your little journal peeking beneath a couple sheets of music papers catches her interest. She knows you wouldn't have left it purposefully so she grabs it before leaving she of course had thoughts on returning said journal but the urge to reveal its contents definitely overpowers the urge to return it.

Rosalie spends many nights reading the pages of your journal finding out who you really are and what you actually want from a relationship. She hadn't expected for these pages to be so intimate. None of these words had she ever expected to come from you.

Shy reserved Y/n you're truly the romantic type.

Rosalie feels like she truly knows you the more she reads she even has favorite quotes from your seemingly continuous daily entries but today she finds one specific entry very interesting it has no title which is odd because all the others do. Unlike the others this seems to be ramblings of your own thoughts and Rosalie's invested. So much that she's cuddled into her couch with a box of cracker jacks with her radio turned off so she can lose herself in your writing.

I truly believe I have no heart because when he smiles at me I feel nothing but HER presence makes me feel everything my heart speeds up and I get nervous. I want her in a way that I can't have her. I want Rosalie Otterbourne. I want to kiss her. I want to touch her. I want to love her the way this man thinks he loves me.

Rosalie shoots up from her spot so fast with no emotion but shock filling her mind. This is the first time a name has been mentioned throughout this leather book and it's her name.

In the earlier pages Rosalie's fingers ran over many words no one should say in the innocence of daylight for example what you'd want to do to a woman how you'd like to please a woman. It's all shocking to her that she's the woman you had in mind as you wrote such sinful things. You Y/n L/n want to please a woman and not just any woman but Miss Rosalie Otterbourne.

Rosalie is left speechless but her moment of shock is cut short when a loud and hard knock on her door breaks the silence of the room. Not used to visitors Rosalie tramples over the many books decorating her floor so well you wouldn't know there was carpet underneath. She makes her way to the closest gown which she pulls over her previously nude body before quickly approaching the door.

Rosalie was so enamored in your journal she hadn't noticed it was pouring down rain so when she opens the door she immediately welcomes you into her home. "Y/n why the visit?" Rosalie centers herself in front of you to avoid your sight of the journal which she isn't aware you had already caught sight of when you first entered. Your eyes take in the beautiful sight in front of you as you rid yourself of your coat "I was informed that you may have something that belongs to me Miss Otterbourne."

Rosalie ponders if she should lie but she chooses not to. Well…not fully anyways. Is making something up on the spot a lie? "Ah you mean the leather book, yes? I meant to return it I've just been occupied…" you don't believe her for a second it may not have taken her long to make herself presentable but the open state of your journal and her nervous expression makes it all clear.

She's read it. She's read every filthy thought that you've had about her. She's read how you want to put your tongue in places it shouldn't be and how you wish you could please her the way no man ever could.

"Was it a good read?" Rosalie's attention turns to the journal just for a moment before it lands back on you "oh yes it was a lovely read I'm deeply sorry that I didn't ask first…I found myself captiv-"

"Lovely you say and what about it was lovely Miss Otterbourne? My diction? Maybe my tone or perhaps it was the mention of your name?" You pick the journal up and look over the page smiling at your cursive and how beautiful her name looks written in black ink.

"I won't tell anyone I never meant to see it. I was curious is all your writing is amazing I couldn't put it down once I had read the first page. I find myself needing to read more" you nod "if you promise that you won't speak a word of this I'll be taking my leave." You turn on your heel to approach the door but Rosalie grabs your arm firmly. She doesn't feel it but your heart quickens from her warm touch "with your permission I'd like to read the rest."

A/n: Part 2 is already in the works and will be a bit longer this is a filler chapter. Also before anyone can say it yes I've not made a fic in a while I know it's just that school is bussing my ass but thankfully my wifi went out so I had some time today.

Taglist:

@verachii

@mocha-aya

@shuriszn

@lolas-bunny

@lucillele

@shuri-lover

@quintessencewrites

@shuris3leg

@yamsthoughts

@saintwrld

@rxcently

@lunax0654

@karimwillia

@adeola-the-explorer

@garbagesleepschedule

@bratydoll

@ctrl-liah

@trixielwt

@6-noir

@annoyingtidalwavequeen

@atssukoo

@inmyheadimobsessed

@letitias-fav

@rxcently

@iwillbiteabitch

@malltake12

@mxyx-rx444

@kiwidreamersstuff

@secretgyals

@shurisnewbabymomma

@shurisbigtoe

@darkangelchronicles

@writesbyriri

@locoforshuri

@mbakuetshurisprincess

@sleepyshuri