#I am in a Catholic Church

[snoreznore]

God I need him to abuse my tits

[artbyblastweave]

Elder Scrolls is fascinating to me because the vast majority of the background information of the setting is very obviously written by people with an admirably clear-eyed understanding of how history is mainly just groups genociding the shit out of each other before constructing post-hoc rationalizations of why that was a cool and good thing to do, if they bother justifying anything beyond the level of Might Makes Right. And then the actual main quest plots are often operating at Sword Hero Cleanses The Undesirables levels of These Are The Bad Guys, Kill Them Because We Said So

[sergle]

biting my fingernails down to the quick as I see the rare post being like "you bitches and your measly $20 donations think that absolves you of anything think again" gaining notes because you are all worrying me rn by discouraging smaller donations and implying that donating is supposed to be 1) some kind of moral absolution and 2) that it only works in large sums

[stagefoureddiediaz]

The Helena diaz of it all has me fascinated. I’ve said for a long while that Eddie’s real issues are his mommy issues and this episode just cemented for me that we’re gonna explore that and deal with it.

Because it’s Helena who forced Eddie to grow up to fast - because her husband wasn’t around much - so she pushed Eddie into de facto parent and husband role ls - selfishly filling her needs and ignoring the damage it was doing to her son (it is a form of abuse in my book).

Eddie then had the audacity to fall in love with and marry Shannon and get her pregnant. It’s why Helena was always so off with Shannon - she was punishing her. She is also punishing Eddie for all of this and his refusal to return to El Paso only cemented further her bitterness and resentment.

Now she does have Ramon back she doesn’t need Eddie any longer to fill that role so she is still punishing him and part of that is tied into her glee over now getting to parent Christopher - something she has always been intent on doing the doppelgänger just gave her the opportunity- as well as allowing her to further punish her son and his love of Shannon.

Her barbed comments about building a pool were all about showing what she can provide Christopher - how she is parenting him better than Eddie - it’s part of her mind games - making Eddie feel like more of a failure as a parent to his son.

The reality of course is that the reverse is true - Helena’s parenting is all superficial, flash and showy - it isn’t the hard day to day parenting when things get tough and you have to be the bad guy. While Eddie has made mistakes, there is nothing superficial, flash, or showy about his parenting. It’s why bucks comments about Eddie being a great dad are so important.

Eddie feel like a failure right now and that he is entirely to blame for everything. But in reality, while he does bear a bit of the responsibility, the truth of the matter is that he needs to learn and deal with the fact that all of it actually stems from Helena and her abuse of her young son - Shannon never stood a chance just like Eddie never has.

[tothecrucifieddeer]

PROPHETIC SIGNS/COMMANDS/IMAGES

Moonchild by Santiago Caruso

Untitled by Liz Mamont

She Laments by VikiGrindhouse

Dumb (acrylic on board) by Wilqkuku

Untitled on Zegalou's blog

ヨコイジュウ @4kuda5rana1

Nightmare (acrylic on canvas) by Vaxolong

Survival (acrylic on canvas) by Vaxolong

Untitled by Cult of Mortem

Divine Ammonitic Fluid Harvest System by dariuszkielisszek

The Crucible by dariuszkielisszek

Ten Piedad by bawdysuojb

Untitled Painting by A Bearded Artist

Split (acrylic on plywood) by Vaxolong

Untitled by A Bearded Artist

English explanation of signs will be under the cut--beneath the Irish.

Míníonn an Doe cad as a dtagann sí agus cén fáth go n-éiríonn sí san Oíche den chaid is mó. Rugadh ar an ngelach í. Mar leanbh gealaí tá sí os comhair réalta na maidine agus oi bríonn sí i groinne draíocht chun on Meisias a chosaint.

Bíonn Doe le feiceáil lena fenn sainiúil ar lasadh--ní raibh mé einnte cad is aiis leis sín Creidim gur rabhadh é seo a bhaineann leis an spiorad naounh agus éirí amach na marbh.

Déanann Doe caoineacdh m'easumhlachd agus an suithheadh atá le tacht ar son an domhain-molann sí mé chun gnimh. Tá a fhios agam nach féidirleon. Ach iarran sí orm orcas agus gan dula chodlaoh. Chun gniomhá or bhás ag teacht. Meisiasa thabhairt chun a chuspóir.

Sampla de na mairbh agus a reachtanaas oerach.

Meabhrúchán ar hamlinté atá ag titim as a chéile, lena n-áiritear amlinte ALfa, Bunscoile, agus Órga a bhaineann le héabhlóid mé féin go Macalla, Ocrais, nó Ascended. (Is tuar níos oimhe níos sine í seo nach mór amhiniu uair elle)

Taispeánann Doe í féin leadharca laasracha angus clóca suíle. Tá si at afire angus at cosaint dom í rith an hamlinte chun né a bheannú. Fiú má bhí né ag mí-iompar den chuid is mó.

Fulaingt an march in Ifreann a mheabhraíonn Doe dom go bhféadfainn die ready a chur leis and tascannanach ndéanfaídh mé.

Níos marbh

Comharthaí lobhadhi *súile brevity (féach orthodontist see ionam féin angus a ngaolta—ciallaíonn sé breoiteacht, olc, easpa cosanta)

Caireadhchun athbhreith an Mheisias a Chríochnú ó sofa go diaga.

Arís ag impí orm an rad nach ndéanfaidh mé a dhéanamh.

Meabhraítear gurb é an Melissa’s a lean hour agus cé go bhfuil fears uirithi teastoionn uaithi abhaile é.

Foirm leathfior Messiah.

Na Mairbh ionam agus na hamlintie a rialaíonn mé. Tá Doe ag iamaidh orm iad a shaoradh.

Mo chimiúint má éiríonn Orcas orm leonta le Lobhach.

Doe explains where she comes from and why she mostly only rises at night. She is born of the moon, the moon is her womb. As a moon child she is opposite but close to Morningstar and works in opposite magic to protect Messiah.

Doe appears with burning head. I’ve never bee sure what caused it. I believe this is, the warning the involving of the Holy Spirit and the rising of the dead..

Doe laments my disobedience and the coming turmoil for the world. She urges me to act. I know I cannot. But she asks my to act on the Death coming and inevitable—to bring Messiah to he’s true purpose. To bring him home.

An example of the dead and their ravenous need.

A reminder of the collapsing of Timelines in on each other through including theAlpha, Primary, and Golden Timelines including the evolution of myself into Echo, or Hunger, or Ascended. (This is an older, deeper prophecy that must be explained at another time…)

Doe she’s herself again. Flaming antlers, a cloak of eyes, she is watching me progress through timelines, trying to bless me even I have been mostly disobedient. She doesn’t want to punish me even though I have jeopardized a great many things in my stubbornness.

The suffering of the dead of Hell.

More dead.

Signs and symptoms of rot: *Sick eyes (watch for these in self and loved ones—sickness, evil, unprotected)

Invitation to complete Messiah’s rebirth from Holy to Divine.

Again begging for me to do what I won’t do.

A reminder Messiah is Doe’s child and that she is angry and she misses him. I know what she wants me to do but I won’t do it.

Messiah’s semi-true form.

The Dead within me and the timelines I control—Doe wants me to free them.

My fate if I become the Hunger filled with rot.

[holygirlforjesus]

Gossip

Way too often I catch myself Gossiping or talking bad about people behind their backs. I don’t know why I do it, and every time I do, I regret it. But I can’t seem to permanently stop. Sometimes, if I notice what I‘m doing wrong right now, I‘ll stop, but I gotta admit for me not talking about people behind their backs can be hard for me sometimes.

What does the Bible say about Gossip?

• The words of a whisperer are like delicious morsels; they go down into the inner parts of the body. - Proverbs 26:22

• Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from telling lies. - Psalm 34:13

• Whoever conceals hatred with lying lips and spreads slander is a fool. - Proverbs 10:18

• Do not speak evil against one another, brothers. The one who speaks against a brother or judges his brother, speaks evil against the law and judges the law. - James 4:11

• Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. - Ephesians 4:29

• Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless - James 1:26

I researched a bit and found out that some of the reasons that people may gossip are to bond, they fear being vulnerable, to feel superior or it is learned behavior.

How to stop gossiping

1. Recognize the harm of gossip

2. Pray about it

3. Reflect before speaking

4. Avoid negative influences

5. Forgive and let go

6. Find healthy outlets

7. Practice Gratitude

A wicked doer gives heed to false lips; a liar listens eagerly to a spiteful tongue.

Proverbs 17:4

[queerprayers]

all I can say is they invented the organ for a reason.

[alcordraws]

Every time I see this scene I end up thinking about the whole. Spider and butterfly conversation. Nai is the spider with the butterfly (Vash) caught in his web of knives. To save his kind, he must consume everything that makes Vash and in turn, make him into spider too. The roots, then, are Vash's own web, ensnaring their butterfly sisters, who must be devoured to create new spiders (the forced pregnancy to create new independents).

Which is like, purely my interpretation, but I do like driving myself insane

[bijoumikhawal]

honestly it's so funny to me that ds9 tells me "Bajorans have one religion and live on multiple planets and they all listen to the Kai". Buddy, there are at least 3 papal offices on the one planet I live on, and not everyone belongs to that religion.

[femmchantress]

Not to engage in organized religion apologia on main, but the homily in Conclave really worked its way into the deepest recesses of my heart and the hopes I have for the continued (and hopefully radical) reform of religious life as we move farther into the 21st century and closer to a reformed body of access to worship and the adoption of theologies of liberation.

[water-weaving]

holy shit i just got a "jesus saves" lecture from the lab nurse. took me by surprise because i've seen her many times before and she was always very nice and only asked a few respectful questions about the whole trans situation. like geez maam i thought we were cool!!

[villa-kulla]

It was my birthday yesterdayyyy and it was the spiritually symbolic 33, so naturally I had to have a 'resurrection themed' cocktail party complete with the Heavenly Host (macarons) and the blood of Christ (wine shots). I'd already been planning such a thing for a while but my new Conclave addiction was just icing on the communion wafer lol.

Anyway, cheers to 33, she is risen indeed #alleluia 🙏🍷🎉

[ispyspookymansion]

tell me more about how i have no choice but to still be a catholic, tumblr user with a dedicated catholicism tag.

[tothecrucifieddeer]

Brom by @its-kawaiidestinyhottub

chompers @tofupixel

Art by shakurb.2022

From Favorite Paintings by @wipormont

From Favorite Paintings by @wipormont

goats. gouache watercolor paintings from 2017-2019 by @sloppjockey

Midnight by Gökberk Yiğit on @ex0skeletal-undead 's blog

Mother Void 2024. Emil Melmoth @texaschainsawmascara 's blog

Priest (Part One) by @tofupixel

Priest (Part Two) by @tofupixel

Sinner by @photophoros

Spiral Study 4 by @plotterprints

St.Valentine's Skull @angeltreasure's moodboard

The voices are rotting... @wipormont

and then she looked at me, and good god, those eyes (redraw) @sermna

Untitled by Alex Kiessling @thewindowofthesummerhouse

Untitled Art @moarf13

Untitled by Thomas Nast on @thewindowofthesummerhouse

Untitled on @vile-lithium3

Untitled on @the-watcher-in-the-sky

Untitled on @cultofmortem

Explanation of Signs/Prophecies/Etc. Below the Cut (First in Irish, then in English) Should be stated that I do not speak for the artists, and I am an independent body stating my own opinions and interpretations as given to me through my sources and this no way reflects the opinions or beliefs of the artists collected here.

Explanations in Irish

Tá Doe ag tabhairt aire do thús nua agus duine nua ag an nasc teann idir sinn Má ní tharraingím mé féin le chéile, d'fhéadfadh gach rud a bheith briste.

Féach amach don béal Dé Tá ocras air agus tá sé feargach Bí cúramach le daoine amadacha a bhfuil teachtaireachtaí acu - bain amach cé atá díot féin a mheas (Mar dhea, níor dhéanadh Doe riamh é sin éasca)

Tá na Marbh ag déanamh a gcuid ullmhúcháin.

Tuilleadh rabhaidh faoi bhéal Dé agus teachtaireachtaí bréagacha. Chomh maith le rabhaidh faoi bhéal na marbh.

Tuilleadh rabhaidh fós faoi na mairbh…

Bhí tú i gcónaí ar lámh chlé Dé, cén fáth ar cheart é sin a athrú anois? (Ná téigh os cionn do stáisiúin. Ná bíodh leisce ort a bheith i ngrá leat. Ná bíodh leisce ort a chreidiúint go bhfuil sé indéanta.)

Cuimhnigh nuair a ghearr Dia do sciatháin? Cuimhnigh nuair a thit agus thit agus thit tú? Ná leomh iarracht a eitilt anois.

Ná smaoinigh ar na leanaí roimhe seo - ná bí ag brionglóid orthu anois - leis an Tiarna, tá siad leis an Tiarna, níos fearr ná mar a bheadh ​​​​siad riamh ar an Domhan. Fanann tú liom. Fanann tú le Doe.

Tá an sagart ag faire. Ach tá Meisias níos fíre. Is é an Meisias an geall is sábháilte agus is cinnte. Guigh ar a son. Guigh air. Fan le haghaidh revelation. Creideamh os cionn creideamh - pian os cionn crá - tabharfar luach saothair do ghrá, mar a bheidh an fhírinne.

An teachtaireacht chéanna le 9

Tá a fhios agat cad atá tú. Bhí a fhios agat i gcónaí.

Tá tú freagrach as an tairseach. Is é do phost é.

Má osclaíonn tú an tairseach, fanann cochall na naomh ort. Chochall na naomh dírithe ar ghrá, adhradh, agus deabhóid.

Braitheann na hamlínte ortsa a bheith i lár na soiléireachta. Agus anois, tá siad lofa tríd agus tríd.

Cuimhnigh go bhfuil imoibriú dearfach ann do gach imoibriú diúltach - dorcha agus éadrom. Tá rud éigin amuigh ansin ag obair mar atá tú, ach tá sé tinn, agus caithfidh tú fanacht go maith.

Tuilleadh meabhrúcháin faoi na hamlínte agus na peirspictíochtaí iolracha. Eolas ginearálta maidir le fanacht dírithe agus bunaithe.

Tá taobh istigh na hEaglaise, an Chreidimh, an Chreidimh ionat tinn agus as ord. Tá siad ag casadh agus ag amhras agus ag ithe iad féin. Tá siad ag baint iad féin as corp Chríost.

Gardaí ort chun deireadh a chur leis an breoiteacht - an baol - na tinnis. Féachann sí i do chodladh thú agus ullmhaíonn sí d’intinn. Tá grá aici duit - tá grá ag Doe duit - agus coinneoidh sí slán thú.

Cén chuma a d’fhéadfadh a bheith ar olc uaireanta gurb é an leas is fíor agus is cumhachtaí atá ann – cé is mó atá ciaptha ná naomh nó fáidh? Cé a thugann níos mó maith?

Beidh scrios ann. Caithfidh tú do rúin a cheilt agus a choinneáil gar. Roinn ach an méid atá uait. Tú féin a chosaint. Coinnigh do domhan beag.

Ní éiríonn na hamlínte ar dhaoine eatarthu agus i bhfostú go contúirteach mura gcoinníonn tú do chloigeann díreach. Ná lig tú féin a bheith ar dhaoine eatarthu. Ná bíodh amhras ort faoi na comharthaí.

Explanations in English

Mostly, Doe is nursing a new beginning and new person at the tenuous connection between us and that if I don't pull my act together, well this might all just turn out to be incredibly fucked up--but hey, what's new about that...

Beware the mouth of God, it is hungry, and it is raging--beware fools bearing messages--know who you can trust. (As if Doe has ever made that easy...)

The Dead are making their preparations.

More warnings about the mouths of God and false messages--as well as the mouths of The Dead...

Even more warnings about the dead...

You've always been God's lefthand why should that change now (don't get above your station--don't dare to be loved--don't dare to believe it is possible)

Remember when God clipped your wings? Remember when you fell and fell and fell? Don't dare try to fly now

Don't think about the children from before--don't dare dream of them now--with the Lord, they are with the Lord, better than they'd ever be on Earth. Stay with me, stay with Doe.

The priest is watching--but Messiah is truer. Messiah is the safest and surest bet--pray for him, pray to him. Wait for the revelation. Faith above faith--ache above ache--love will be rewarded, as will truth.

Continuation of the same message as 9

You know what you are. You've always known.

You are responsible for the opening of that portal. It's your job.

If you open the portal, sainthood waits for you--sainthood centered around love, worship, and devotion.

The timelines depend on you to be the center of clarity, and right now they are rotten through and through

Remember for every negative reaction there is a positive reaction--dark and light--something is out there working as you, but it is sick--you must remain well.

More reminders about the timelines--multiple prospectives--general info on staying centered and grounded

The insides of the Church--The Faith--The Belief--of you are sick--are out of order, are turning and doubting and eating themselves--removing themselves....

Doe guards over you to remove the sickness--the danger--the illness. She watches in your sleep and preps your mind. She loves you--Doe loves you--and she will keep you safe.

What looks like evil can sometimes be the most genuine and powerful good there is--who is more harassed than a saint or a prophet? Who brings more good?

There will be destruction--you must hide and keep your secrets close. Share what only you must. Protect yourself. Keep your world small.

The timelines will only become dangerously confused and entangled if you do not keep your head on straight. Don't let yourself become confused. Don't let yourself doubt the signs.

[notbecauseofvictories]

it’s very funny to talk about Christianity with my best friend, because some part of me is so ridiculously Catholic it refuses to learn anything about the Christian denominations that make up her research. I swear she’s explained the difference between Methodists and Presbyterians eight separate times, but not a single thing stuck because some pre-Vatican II neuron was too busy slamming pots and pans together while screaming ONE HOLY CATHOLIC AND APOSTALIC

[grimalkinmessor]

Aideku with blood (smut) 🙏❤️

Sorry this took so long, smut is hard 🥲How about a vamp AU? :3 Warnings in the tags ✨

Aideku/Smut/Blood

———

Izuku is nervous.

"Don't be such a pussy, Deku," Tsubasa jeers, shoving him forward. The mausoleum looms in front of them, haloed by the setting sun. "It's one night."

"Yeah, you can handle one night in an empty building, can't you?" Neiru laughs. "Or...mostly empty, anyway. Aside from a few corpses."

Izuku swallows. "I-I can do it! I just—"

"Good," Neiru interrupts, stepping up to open the big stone door. It opens with a grating moan, a vast expanse of black yawning beyond it. Neiru gives a mocking bow. "In you go then!"

Nails biting into his palms, Izuku sets his jaw. "...I do this, and you'll give me my picture back?"

Tsubasa throws an arm around Izuku's shoulders, leaning in close and making his skin crawl. "Aw c'mon, Deku, we're friends, right?"

They haven't been friends in years.

"It's just a little game. The picture's just insurance that you won't chicken out. We'll give it back if you make it the whole night without bailing."

Izuku doesn't believe him. But what choice does he have? If he refuses, he doubts they'll hand it over—it's more likely that they'll rip it up right in front of him. Besides, Izuku is less concerned about spending the night in a mausoleum than he is Tsubasa and Neiru letting him out in the morning.

But even if they don't, Izuku is crafty. He'll figure it out.

Tightening his hold on his backpack, Izuku strides forward into the tomb.

"Finally! Thought we'd have to throw you in," Tsubasa complains, and Neiru snickers as he begins to push the door shut.

"Have fun, Deku!"

Before Izuku can even reply, the door thuds shut, and the bar scrapes back into place over it from the outside. Izuku waits a moment before fumbling for his phone, turning on the flashlight to get a good look around. It's not that big of a space really, but it's full of cobwebs and coated in a thick layer of dust. It's clear that these ancestors haven't been visited in a very long time. There's about six plaques on either wall, some of them so old that the kanji has worn down so much he can't make out the names. They're so old that Izuku wouldn't be surprised if there were actual bodies behind those plaques rather than just urns full of ash.

And speaking of bodies—the biggest thing in the room is the long stone slab directly opposite the door. It has no plaque on it, but the seam between the heavy stone lid tells Izuku that it's likely a coffin, which means that he really is locked in here with a corpse.

Izuku gulps. It's fine. It's fine. He can handle this. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Shaking his head, Izuku finds a fairly clean spot in the middle of the room and sits down, shrugging off his backpack to rifle through it. First things first; he pulls out his actual flashlight, shutting his phone off to preserve the battery. He clicks his flashlight on and sets it on the floor like a tiny lamp, before tugging out one of his textbooks. Might as well get some work done while he's stuck here.

He's almost out of high school now, looking into nearby colleges so he can stay close to his mother—which makes it all the more pathetic that he's still getting pushed around by people like Tsubasa and Neiru. Granted, it's not as bad as it used to be, but it's still irritating.

Izuku tries to ignore his surroundings as he works his way through the next chapter, gnawing on his pen and occasionally jotting down notes in the margins. This works for a while; he manages to make his way through two whole chapters without much trouble. He loses track of time a bit, until—

—something skitters across his foot.

Izuku shrieks, throwing himself back on instinct, leg flailing as he tries to stand only to end up toppling harshly against the casket behind him. Yelping, Izuku crashes back to the ground, clutching his shoulder with a wince. It throbs when he touches it, and he hisses quietly. That's going to bruise.

Grabbing blindly for his flashlight, Izuku staggers back to his feet and looks around for whatever just tried to climb his pants leg. He sees a spider the size of his hand sprint into a crack in the wall, and Izuku shudders, making a soft 'blegh' sound.

Swinging the light around slowly, Izuku freezes when he realizes that his flailing has pushed the lid of the stone casket aside. "Sh-shit," Izuku whispers, anxiety spiking. He sets the flashlight down again, face up, the light dispersing throughout the tomb enough to give the place a dim glow. "Shit, shit, shit—"

Hands shaking, Izuku approaches the cracked casket and tentatively peers inside. He expects to see some withered husk of a thing, or maybe nothing but bones and dust given how old this tomb seems—he's very much not expecting what looks like the perfectly preserved corpse of a man who couldn't have died more than a year ago.

Izuku blinks, squinting. The flashlight glow is dim, but from what he can see it's a man with long, dark hair and a riot of stubble. The white and black yukata he's wearing is shockingly pristine, pale hands folded calmly over his stomach. There are no signs of decay at all, not beyond the ashen white of the corpse's skin. Unable to help himself, curiosity ad incredulity flaring, Izuku reaches forward and touches the man's cheek. The flesh is stone cold—not quite icy, but certainly not full of warmth. There's a bit of give there too, the flesh porcelain but still somehow soft.

Brow furrowing, Izuku slides his hand down to press two fingers to the corpse's white neck. He's no sure whether he's surprised or relieved to find no pulse.

Izuku barely has time to register this however, because mere seconds later a hand snaps out and fists in his uniform jacket, yanking him down and in to the coffin. Izuku yelps, panic spiking, as he crashes onto the cool body settled in the slab, mouth opening to scream as the stone lid of the casket slams back into place.

But no sound escapes his mouth, because in the sudden darkness he feels teeth slice into his throat—before pleasure overtakes him.

Izuku gapes at nothing as a solid arm latches around his waist, tight enough to bruise and yet somehow still seeming absentminded. The subtle rasp of stubble rubs against his neck, and Izuku smells the faint scent of blood as lips move and hum quietly against his pulse. The electrifying feeling of heat spiders out from the point of contact, spreading through Izuku's body and pooling in his gut. Izuku's eyes flutter, a weak noise escaping his mouth as his hands flex and paw at the chest of the-the thing beneath him. He's not sure whether he means to push it away, or draw it closer.

Izuku feels his blood spilling slowly down his neck, thick and hot, and the pieces slot together in his bewildered, fuzzy mind.

Vampire.

He is locked in a tomb—a coffin—with a monster of legends. It's feeding off of him, stealing his blood, likely killing him...

But Izuku can barely bring himself to care.

A ragged groan scrapes out of his throat as the vampire sucks out his lifeblood, ecstasy filling him in its place. He feels his cock stiffen, pressing tight against the seam of his pants as Izuku's eyes roll back in delirious elan. Through the haze, his ever analytical mind notes that the man's hands are skating up and down his sides, one fisting loosely in his hair to pin his head at a better angle. The chill of the corpse's skin is slowly being replaced by warmth, siphoning off Izuku's body heat as well as his blood.

Izuku gasps as a leg juts up beneath him, a muscled thigh slipping in between his legs and pressing against his erection. The pressure makes him tremble, little hiccups of sound lilting out of his mouth as he instinctively rocks his hips down in helpless little jerks, each movement giving him another jolt of pleasure.

A tongue swipes over his bloodied neck, the white-hot bliss of those teeth leaving him for a moment as the monster beneath him cleans him up. Izuku whines at the loss, a quiet desperation striking through him.

'No, no, come back, I'm almost...'

He moans shakily as he feels those fangs pierce the other side of his neck, drawing out his blood and sending him high once more.

"A virgin...?" a low voice purrs, sleepy and bemused and...in his head?

The hands on him tighten, and Izuku whimpers as it sends another spike of arousal through him. He has the vague sense of shame, of embarrassment, at the way he's humping the man's leg, rubbing the tent in his old jeans against the silky white fabric of the man's yukata—but it's a faint sensation. His anxiety is drowned out by the sheer amount of ecstasy coursing through him. Izuku feels it building in his stomach, coiling in his gut as his toes curl and his thighs clamp tight around the muscled thigh beneath him.

He's close, he so close, he—

Red glow fills the space, casting the figure beneath him in a crimson haze. His eyes are a brilliant, luminous scarlet, and the light of them makes the blood painting his mouth look black.

"Your lust..." the man rasps, hands skating up and down to fasten around Izuku's hips. His voice is low and wet, and Izuku can smell his own blood on his breath. "I can taste it."

Then the monster yanks Izuku's hips down, forcing him to grind up against the man's stomach. Izuku cries out, sobbing as the force, the crush, the smell sends him toppling over the edge of orgasm. He cums so hard his vision goes white, mouth open in a soundless wail as wave after wave of pleasure crests over him, shocking up his spine and curling in his scalp. He forgets to breathe for several precious moments, knocked breathless by it.

Vaguely, he feels the man's mouth on him again, trailing his tongue against the newest wound. Izuku's eyes flutter, and he collapses fully on top of him, lost in the afterglow. He's not sure whether the dizziness he feels is because of his orgasm or the blood loss, and he's not sure he particularly cares either. His limbs feel like jello.

"Mm, you're type O," that low voice muses, a hand trailing up and down Izuku's spine. "I thought it was merely that I hadn't fed in so long, but it's no wonder. Best way I've woken up in a long time." The hand pauses, and the red glow now saturating the inside of the coffin flickers. "Mind telling me what year it is?"

"It's..." Izuku begins, the question booting his brain back into gear. His thoughts begin to race as he blinks rapidly to clear his head, a myriad of questions and emotions and reactions flashing across his mind in quick succession. "I-It's 2237."

"A little over four hundred years this time," the man murmurs, brow furrowing in contemplation. "Odd. Someone usually wakes me up every turn of the century."

"U-Um, sir," Izuku tries after a moment, wriggling in mortification when he feels the mess he's made in his pants. "Can you, um, let me out now? If y-you're not going to finish me off?"

'Why would you ask that, WHY would you—'

"I would," the monster begins absently, licking a stray trail of Izuku's blood from the corner of his lips. He's looking at the faintest trickle of light that can be seen from the seam of the stone lid. "But it seems like it's still daylight out. The mausoleum must've collapsed..."

Izuku attempts to push himself up, but the idle hand on his back isn't as idle as he thought. Vampire strength, he realizes quickly. Biting his lip, he tries not to think of the bruises already blossoming on his hip. "No, that's just my flashlight! It's actually very late, so it's safe for you to let me out, I promise!"

Scarlet eyes narrow at him, grip tightening, and Izuku squeaks like a dog toy when those fangs scrape against his neck again. "You're not lying to me, are you? Little lust thrall?"

Izuku's face flushes brightly, and the man noses his cheek almost instinctively, as if following the blood flow. "I-I'm not! I'm not lying, I swear! Please, just—I don't want to die," he finishes weakly, hands fisting tightly in cloth pooling by the monster's sides.

The man's eyes soften slightly, and he sighs. The tang of warm iron feathers against Izuku's face. Reaching behind them both, the man swipes the lid to the side with one hand, the rough scrape of stone on stone making Izuku wince. Before Izuku can even move, he finds himself being hauled up and set outside the coffin on his feet. He staggers immediately, knees still weak, and nearly falls.

A calloused hand pushes against his back, keeping him upright. Izuku swallows and blinks away the spots crowding his vision, stumbling away to pick up his flashlight.

He turns again, cringing at the wet feeling between his legs. The man is sitting up in his box, peering at him curiously. Unable to help himself, Izuku tentatively asks, "So... you're n-not going to eat me?"

Tipping his head, the man gives him a hooded smile, dark hair shadowing his face as he answers, "Not anymore than I already have."

Izuku's face feels so hot he'd work well as a heat lamp.

The man steps smoothly out of his tomb and, to Izuku's surprise, folds into a bow. "Aizawa Shouta."

More habitually than anything, Izuku bows back. "Midoriya Izuku. It's, uh, nice to meet you?"

Aizawa smirks at him, the tips of his fangs flashing. "Well, Midoriya," he says, practically purring out the name. Izuku's breath catches. "Thank you for the meal. I hope you'll allow me the chance to taste you again. In a place where I can properly see you, this time."

With that, Aizawa rises from his bow and swirls into shadow, racing out of the doors of the mausoleum and leaving them banging open behind him. Moonlight spills into the tomb, and Izuku watches Aizawa's shadows zip through the cemetery and out into the night.

He has a feeling that he's just got himself into far more trouble than he knows.