#a ship that i am extremely normal about
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pluto-bop · 3 months ago
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thereweredragonshere · 10 days ago
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I skip all Hiccstrid scenes in Rtte because buffstrid is not canon💔
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beanghostprincess · 10 months ago
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still can't believe this happened in the same episode btw
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blabberoo · 6 months ago
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Thinking about how drifter and bobby would somewhat worship eachother. It feels like they are each other's version they want to be (idk how to put it i suck at english). Immortality and mortality, both who were cursed in somekind of plague.
Everytime i draw them all touchy, cuddly, with each other. Being so, so close. That thought comes to mind.
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horsemage · 6 months ago
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I think we should bring back basic etiquette lessons such as shutting the fuck up when you’re watching a movie in a group that is not exclusively your friend group 🙂
#welcome to another Mick Airs Out Their Grievances and by god is it a VERY long one#prob best if u don't expand the tags#am I being maybe a bit meaner about this than I would be for any other movie? maybe but pac rim is one of my favorite movies of all time#so I think I get a pass on this one.#one of the groups on campus is hosting movie nights & I went to this one bc I've only ever watched pac rim on my laptop and wanted to watch#it on a larger screen. yay yippee I love this movie!#there r maybe 10-ish of us in this room and a three person friend group is sitting on the couch one of whom has seen the movie and two who#have not. okay so far so normal.#and then the movie starts and they won't! stop! fucking! commentating! the whole fucking movie!!! I don't have a problem with doing that#when I'm in just my friend group because I know that I can tell my friend to stop talking or pause the movie or whatnot but not when I'm in#a large group w people I'm not good friends with ffs#and the comments aren't even funny or anything they're all oh this is JUST like in iron widow!! oh they're SO gay and autistic!!! and#they're talking so loud about this that it completely drowns out the movie audio which has already been turned up a few times#like. be considerate!! some of us want to yknow actually listen to what's going on and not whatever bullshit you're saying#I nearly walked out three or four times before I actually wound up doing so#I may have been a bit of a bitch at the end but I don't care. I got up to leave because this was not an enjoyable environment and one of#them offered to turn the movie down if it was too loud. this caught me a bit off guard since I expected them to still be so wrapped up in#their convo and. well. I may have said 'it's not the movie that's too loud' before closing the door#this also reminds me a lot about my issues with online shipping culture and it bleeding through into how we interact with media irl#this is probably heavily influenced by my aromanticism but I'm so sick of people constantly reading romantic relationships into everything#AND placing more importance on those relationships than any other form. I don't mind romance in media. I think if done right it has great#emotional impact on a story but when a movie is running and when other people who may not want to hear it are in the room watching it too#is not the time to be loudly saying 'he's autistic!' 'they're in love!' 'she has a crush on him!'#I have my own interpretations of the movie some of which agree with what they said and some of which don't but that's beside the point of#knowing how to coexist politely in public#anyway. I think they were awful and annoying and they ruined my night out.#I think I'm just so incredibly mad about this because I love the movie and I was looking forward to watching it in a group of people who#found it cool as well while still having some modicum of politeness#I almost wish I had been meaner but that's the extreme annoyance talking I think#hater hour over love u guys bye
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featureenvyproductions · 2 months ago
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I should come clean and let you know that I pair up men solely to annoy you personally. Yes you. Has nothing to do with anything else. Why would it? Haven't we established on this website that gay stuff is the domain of vapid, thoughtless degenerates?
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absolutely-normal-about-x · 11 months ago
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I have an extremely controversial Announcement-
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bumbleblurr · 2 years ago
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I can enjoy sh0ckblur but like in the way that they're divorced from the start. I mean that they meet for the first time and they're already so done with each other
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felidthing · 3 months ago
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i just had a very long complicated dream about some very ooc homestuck kids. jade might be rooted in some form of fanon at least but i dunno
#posts#i could b wrong abt jade. i really liked the way she was in this though#she was all the yay happy im jade harley niceness but also like. very self-righteous and impulsive#and very emotional. and stubborn. and protective of people she thought were being treated unfairly#she had an extreme reaction thinking someone was in danger cb of an outburst so she herself had a massive outburst and was panicking until-#-she found out they were okay and alive for now and then switched to just clinging desperately to them and getting very angry at anyone who#didnt show the same level of care and protectiveness for them than she was#like she was fully creating a two sides issue and staunchly choosing a side#and then when it didnt look like things were gona go any better she zapped her and her friend and one person who seemed kinda-#- neutral-positive onto a spaceship to escape as far away as possible#so. that. she was consistently the most easygoing with this random guy my dream isekai'd into the situation. which at times made her an-#-enabler or something bc she prioritized his comfort over any change ever even ones that could have been good for him#johns main part in this Story was he kinda just had an autistic meltdown and then pov guy had a similar situation not long later#on a larger scale and people in general were just even less nice about him because he was older and hadnt grown up there lol#also this dream was very much from random guys pov which was My pov#but it wasnt Me i was just fully some character. anyways#after pov guys massive outburst he runs back home where john is and john is not very sympathetic#he was very much projecting the shame an embarrassment he felt bc even though the people there at least knew him they still werent nice to-#-him either#so it was a ''i know from experience that You should know better than to have needs in public'' type deal#originally rose was there and then my brain switched her out for roxy. im so sorry rose#but either way the lalondechild had such a murky existence and it only solidified into roxy at the end where the confrontation thing was-#happening. with the jade freakout#there was also some Superpower Awakening shit happening? previously mentioned w jade. but john when pov guy came home had a white streak in#his hair and jades went FULLY white when she blew up#so thats cool i guess. her hair went back to normal the next time she was seen on the ship#there was some montage shit going on#anyways. insane fucking dream. can i steal this shit and make ocs.#like i said these kids were pretty ooc. i feel like parts were definitely still rooted in some perception of the characters butttt#its was just one or two small things. idk man all i know is i am thinking so hard about this
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amorremanet · 6 months ago
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i enjoy the way complaining in the tags still feels like muttering to myself
#.#..#…#….#…..#mine: tags#wank for ts#kassie hush#i am seriously begging other people who ship ghoulper & lucy to please be fucking normal and not racist about maximus & barb#most people are NOT being shitty which is good and i appreciate that#but goddamn when the people who ARE being shitty and racist show up it’s usually appalling#‘did anybody else get villain turn vibes from maximus??’ no that sounds like a skill issue on your part tbh#‘i can’t like him at all bc i got those vibes’ again: skill issue on your part. also you ship lucy with someone who has physically harmed#her and makes his genuine trauma everyone else’s problem so idk why you’re complaining about maximus doing hypothetical morally dubious shit#(aside from what he actually did in s1 but all of that while not necessarily MORAL was extremely understandable—lying to the brotherhood;#lying to lucy about being knight titus—and frankly i don’t think he did anything wrong in the situation with titus. bastard was threatening#to get maximus hanged over his own fucking incompetence vs. the yaoguai. fuck titus. son of a bitch had it coming.)#i’m just so very fucking tired…… people. we can ship lucy & ghoulper WITHOUT being shitty & racist it is remarkably fucking easy actually#granted i am biased as a multishipper who loves lucymax barbcooper maxcoop danemax & cooplucymax ot3#but fucking still…… i’m not shocked that people are being shitty & racist abt max & barb. just disappointed at how little shit has changed#war never changes & racist fandom discourse doesn’t either ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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utilitycaster · 3 months ago
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Here's the thing about projecting your personal experiences onto a story. It's extremely normal. People do it all the time. It's part of being alive and human. If that's the primary way you wish to interact with fiction then you can and I cannot promise no one will physically stop you but I certainly won't. We've all decided that a pop song is about our lives (or about our blorbo's lives) and I am no exception.
However, your projection is not textual. It is your personal experience. Your personal experiences inform your understanding and taste, but they are not the canon of a fictional work.
It's sort of the generalized version of this post. You can ship whatever the fuck you want - follow your heart or your dick or whatever you ship with - but some things have explicit textual support within the narrative, and some things do not. This is also true of other interpretations. Many intrerpretations can be valid. Multiple conflicting interpretations can be valid. But some are not. Some have zero textual evidence.
When, for example, I say that people are projecting their trauma on a narrative, that doesn't mean their trauma isn't valid, nor does it mean I think they're morally wrong for doing that (nor, if I did think they were wrong for doing that, should that matter, as I am not The Arbiter Of How To Experience Fiction). It does however mean that I do not think they are reading the text with an eye towards what is actually happening, but rather what appeals to them based on personal experiences that are not necessarily pulled from the text, and therefore their feelings are valid but their analysis, decoupled from that, is more likely than not absolute dogshit. And people are similarly allowed to have dogshit analysis; no one is physically stopping you. People are just saying "wow your analysis was bad," because they think it was. There is no identity or personal history that permits you to cut the line and have The Only Correct Opinion On A Work That Is Above Reproach.
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valkyrie1435atla · 3 months ago
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If This is a Dream, Don't Wake Me - MASTERPOST
Welcome to my blog dedicated to my Avatar: The Last Airbender fan comic. This is the masterpost with links to every part in chronological order, and the link to the spotify playlist of songs I've used in the video version of the comic. It will be updated with every new part I release.
-Synopsis- Team Avatar failed to defeat the Fire Nation, and suddenly find themselves back at the beginning.
Part 1: One Door Closes...
Part 2: Another Door Opens
Part 3: Lazarus Syndrome
Part 4: This Pain is Familiar to Me
Part 5: Delay (My Body Catches up to my Mind)
Part 6: You are Different From Yesterday
Part 7: Meeting you for the First Time (Again)
Part 8: We Need to Talk
Part 9: Get it Right This Time
Part 10: Tense
Part 11: A Change
Part 12: Boiling Point (My Worry Tears me Apart)
Part 13: Play-by-Play
Part 14: MORTEM OBIRE
Part 15: I Think Of You As My Own (All That Matters)
Part 16: Witness
Part 17: A Thankless Job
Part 18 is on HOLD- REDRAWS of parts 1-9 are in progress, in preparation for the posting of this comic on Archive of our own. Expect updates to continue as normal by the end of November.
~
-things to keep in mind-
I am only one person. This series is not my top priority in my life, it comes second to college, work, self care, etc. I am however extremely passionate about this work, and will update whenever I have the time.
I am an artist, not a writer. While I am working to improve my writing skills, some story elements may have continuity errors, and characters may act ooc sometimes. I really appreciate advice on how to write better
My preferred method of telling my story is through music. The video versions are up on my TikTok (@ valkyrie1435) and will be posted here eventually as well. I will definitely draw in a comic format, but to get the full experience, watch the videos.
This story will feature many of the main cast members, but it is primarily Zuko-centric. He is my special interest character, so naturally I draw him the most.
I am autistic, so my interactions in comments and asks may be awkward.
If you have a question not related to this comic, ask it on my main account, @valkyrie1435 also, don't write an ask if you don't have a question. Please use the comment/reply feature on posts.
I need validation. Like any other artist, I can only motivate myself for so long without outside feedback. Commenting and engaging with posts is very encouraged!
The story is a work in progress. I am not entirely sure the direction this series will be taking, so feel free to speculate or give suggestions on what you would like to see.
Ships will not be a focus. If you are looking for atla ship content, you won't find it here.
Link to Spotify playlist of songs I have used in the video version of the comic V
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frozenjokes · 3 months ago
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Cub and mumbo is a ship I really want to like extremely badly but it hasn’t quite clicked in my brain how they would work so I just need to take a moment to ramble and brainstorm and make it happen.
I think they have a kind of vibe that’s like ‘I saw cub at the ‘eating people’ club!’ ‘what were YOU doing that the ‘eating people’ club?’ I imagine cub being charmed by S8 mumbo and his quite frankly insane workaround to stealing Grian’s soul instead of just cannibalism normal style. Cub might keep tabs on Mumbo after that, just curiosity with little interaction, and he ends up witnessing multiple instances of Technically Not Cannibalism? that leave him kind of baffled?? mumbo jumbo why are you jumping through hoops like this. I am fascinated by you but I think also you are in desperate need of tearing someone apart (and god I’d love to watch). They’ve said a total of five words to each other when cub wanders over to him and is like hey. if you wanted to 👉👈 you could ✌️ rip scar into a million pieces with me :) for fun :)
mumbo goes ?????????no????????"? and cub comes away from this interaction dejected and also with the impression that the issue here is that mumbo is simply repressed and is in desperate need of help and nothing else. commence slutfan135 (attraction and eating people are integrally linked which is a universal for everyone cub has decided)
from Mumbo’s perspective this is coming out of fucking nowhere and he’s deeply deeply confused until he’s chatting with scar one day and the subject comes up and scar’s like oh yeah lol he wants you to eat him soooooo bad he’s been talking my ear off about for weeks and mumbo goes Why. W hy. And scar shrugs. (Unhinged cubfan monologue would not have been understandable to anyone especially not scar but he’s just happy to listen to cub talk. Nothing is more fun than listening to an autistic person go off the rails about something insane.)
Mumbo just approaches cub the next day and goes dude I do not want to eat you and I’m not going to. And cub goes 🥺 please? Somehow this leads to a conversation about desire and carnal attraction and gore and shit and it’s nice probably. Mumbo doesn’t really want to hurt people so instead he chooses to hurt people in extremely convoluted ways instead. Cub suggests he go apeshit instead. you’ve been cannibalism edging me for weeks mumbo jumbo I am begging you. Something something guilt and shame and it’s all an extremely poorly disguised allegory for catholic guilt and shame in regards to sex. maybe it ends with mumbo suggesting cub eat him instead. This might fix him??? I enjoy a predator hunter/hunted dynamic so I think that would go hard with cub being like okay :3 only if I can chase you through my gay little labyrinth. Even better if the turns get tabled on cub and mumbo ends up killing him instead. I haven’t mentioned mumbo is a vampire yet but he is. Then they eat each other the end. cumbo win
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 year ago
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Hey, I just wanted to thank you for talking about the whole Taylor Swift "queerbaiting" thing. I am not a Swiftie by a long shot, and only learned about "gaylors" a few months ago. But I grew up with people insisting that I had to have crushes/find people hot. Regardless of what I said. It's really nice to see someone push back against that rhetoric that was so harmful to me and many others. It may seem small or not that big a deal, but it's genuinely huge to me to see those posts.
I'm glad it's meaningful to you but in the name of not taking credit where credit isn't due I want to specify that my objection isn't really to the idea of people shipping Taylor with her friends; I think it's very cringe, don't get me wrong, and extremely misguided given the sheer levels of heterosexuality that Taylor exudes, but I mind my business about people writing RPF every day because it doesn't affect me literally at all.
my issue is more with pretty extreme conspiracy thought being normalized among young queer people as just a fun silly little harmless thing to do, when the tactics used by Gaylors - thought terminating cliches, inventing significance and symbolism in meaningless imagery, encouraging people to doubt and disregard direct statements in favor of a "real" truth that only they can understand - is indistinguishable from qanon and other cult shit. which isn't to say that I think Gaylor as a idea is equally as bad as qanon, obviously, but conspiracy thought begets more conspiracy thought - there's a reason for the rather short pipeline from "spiritual healing" woowoo shit to antivaxxers to the far right. that's my beef here.
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starcurtain · 4 months ago
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Normally I am a very dedicated single-shipper and don't multi-ship too many characters, but seeing Sugilite, I was kind of like "Okay, but Sugilite and Aventurine would be a whole lot of pretty in one ship."
However, then I saw this fanart on twitter and now I'm just like... Hang on, hang on a second.
Hey Star's brain, have you considered: Bi disaster Sugilite who thinks he has an (extremely unfortunate, how did this happen, no way aghhhh!!) crush on Aventurine, so now he's stuck seething over Aventurine's newfound whatever with Dr. freaking Ratio of all people--
But he has no one else to whine about this to, so he's just constantly involving Topaz in his drama.
"Be my cover so I can spy on them--"
"This is not a thing that normal people do, you know."
Three hour phone calls complaining about Aventurine daring to breathe.
Dragging her out with him on fake dates trying to make Aventurine jealous--
Eating all the ice cream in Topaz's freezer without permission because he deserves to feel good about something in life again; Topaz, you just wouldn't understand--
Until finally Topaz is like "Sugilite, real talk here: Do you even actually like Aventurine, or are you just jealous he found someone and you're still single? Because you're the most annoying person I know, but also... I'm right here? We could just go on a real date sometime, you know?"
This is how Sugilite realizes he is actually a certifiable boyfailure™.
And also how I make Sugilite/Topaz a thing. I have a vision.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 4 months ago
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*gets on knees* hello,,,,, I am,, muy hungr y.......... priest vox one-shot PLEAAAAASE.. perhaps Vox has taken a more Catholic turn with Voxtech to capitalise on the fact that being redeemed has suddenly become extremely popular since the Hazbin Hotel was rebuilt ('TRUST US! with YOUR redemption'), he doesn't ACTUALLY believe in any of it of course but anything for a buck. Idk how reader would end up there LOL but I can't stop thinking about him using the most dirty religious euphemisms AND MAYBE USING A ROSARY TO BIND READER'S(OR HIS IF UR FEELING REAL FREAKY) WRISTS RUFF RUFF BARK BARK BARK I'm totally normal (I'm losing my mind)
HELLO FRIEND I LOVE THIS (AND YOU SINCE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE LOL)
disclaimer that I am not religious, I took most of these bible verses and things at face value- Vox doesn't care about using them correctly why should I LMAO
going to Hell for this one lads anyone wanna carpool?
Tags: blasphemy, priest kink, fucking in a church, improper use of rosary beads, confession that is not up to code, exhibitionism? if you squint? improper use of bible verses
HOT PRIEST VOX IN THE BANNER FROM @chefskjssart AND THE BANNER ITSELF FROM @fraugwinska I LOVE YOU GUYS ❤️❤️❤️
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When you arrive in Hell as the result of a car accident, the first thing you see is a billboard- there’s a television on it, of all things, one with a face that wore a confident smirk under eyes that seemed to promise something. What exactly it was, you couldn’t tell, but the bright, flashing words next to him caught your attention, like you were sure they were supposed to: “VoxTek presents VeeLigion- TRUST US! With YOUR Redemption!”
You spend a couple days trying to get your bearings, and you determine that Hell fucking sucks- before falling you had been stabbed a grand total of zero times, and within 24 hours you’d had a knife in you twice. Which, TV did a terrible job at depicting stabbings; it wasn’t a soft gasp and a betrayed glance at the person holding the knife, it was a burning flash of pain and a scream that echoed in your head even after you stopped, even after the wound miraculously healed and left you with holes in your clothing that exposed unblemished skin.
TV also painted a pretty inaccurate portrait of Hell as a whole. Sure, you’d been stabbed a couple times but it wasn’t all fire and brimstone- everyone else mostly left you alone, a fox-faced woman had given you a bandage and a half eaten sandwich while you sat bleeding in an alley outside, there were bakeries and regular storefronts, and maybe a few more sex shops than you had been anticipating. But it was a whole society like it was when you were alive, albeit with maybe less rules and consequences.
You see more advertisements from the guy with the television head (Vox, you had picked up from the newspapers and magazines that littered the sidewalks), promises of salvation to be found in his newly built church in Pentagram City, redemption at a low cost. You had seen other ads, from a place called the Hazbin Hotel, but regardless of how different Hell was from what you had imagined, you still figured that the Devil was bad- his daughter couldn’t have been much better. And the Princess of Hell just didn’t catch your attention like Vox had; come on, his head was a television, what choice did you have but to look at him?
And it was no real surprise that you had ended up here, despite the years of Catholic school and nuns striking the fear of God into you when your parents had decided that you were too much trouble as a teen and shipped you off for a few years. You had done your time, did the prayers and shit with your skirt just an inch or two above the regulated length, and as soon as you had the chance you were out of there, back to the fun life you had enjoyed before…
Even if you did now have the voice of Sister Lucy in your head when you went down on someone, telling you that idle hands- and probably lips- should only be used in service of the Lord.
But Jesus, was some premarital sex really enough to damn you to this shithole? The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to find your way to the center of the city to find that Church. Maybe the whole redemption thing was bullshit, but also maybe since it was a church they could give you shelter. A place to hide from the chaos on the streets while you figured out what the fuck you were going to do. You didn’t think you needed food to survive, really, but you would do almost anything for a hot meal in your mouth just for the comfort of it.
After getting directions- and another fucking stab wound, where the fuck were people getting these knives?- you make your way to the VoxTek church, and here’s another point against the Hotel. The thing is massive and gorgeous, blue and white stained glass that covered the building reflecting the red of the pentagram in the sky, Vox’s likeness front and center above the intricately detailed doors. It’s pristine, and perfect, and you’re suddenly very self conscious about the state of yourself, covered in blood with clothes that are the wrong brand of ‘holey.’ But you’re already here and on the steps, so there’s not much else to do but climb them and reach for the doors.
A tablet pops in front of you, ‘AdamAI’ engraved across the top. “Welcome to the VeeLigion church,” the thing says, the voice bored and haughty. “Entry starts at $5.99.”
“You fucking charge just to come in?” Maybe you shouldn’t swear at what looks like some sort of angelic device but fuck, really?
“A small price to pay for salvation!” It says, and little wings flick out of the sides to flutter, like it was trying to distract you. “Come on, don’t you wanna go to Heaven? It fucking rocks up there- Hell is dirty and smelly and gross, and-”
“Yeah people just stab you like all the fucking time,” you mutter, “but I don’t have any money.”
“Plan B then- you can sign this screen right here-” Some sort of contract appears on the screen, the letters too small to read properly, with a line at the bottom. “And the matter of payment can be discussed at a later date, at the owner’s discretion.”
“That’s a little suspicious.”
“You could go get stabbed again,” it snarks, and a pen pops out of the top. “Or you could go to that shitty hotel that doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, with Lucifer’s brat. Choice is yours.”
You have to admit that the pristine glow of the church seems more promising than what you had seen of the Hotel, so you sign the contract and the doors swing open without the creak of heavy wood- when you touch it on your way in you realize that it, too, is actually metal, manipulated to look like wood to sell the facade of the building. “Good luck,” the tablet chirps, followed by something that sounds suspiciously like “you’re going to need it” as the door slams shut behind you.
It’s eerily quiet inside the church, likely soundproofed since you can no longer hear anything that’s going on outside. There’s no one else inside, no priest or other sinners, the stage at the front of the chapel empty except for the obviously simulated sunlight that streams through the windows at the back. Despite the cash grab at the door, the place does feel divine. It’s quiet and peaceful, and beautiful beyond belief. You wander up to the front, looking around to see if there would be some sort of pastor or something to show you what, exactly, you were supposed to do- to give you answers, to show you some kind of mercy in this hellhole.
A door slams somewhere in the building, and gradually a voice gets louder as they approach the chapel. “-told you, Val, that the church was a waste of fuckin’ time,” they’re saying, “but did you listen? Of course not- you’re shoved so far up Angel’s twinky little ass lately it’s a wonder you have time to plan your fuckin’ ‘holy orgies’ or whatever the fuck you’re calling them-”
And there’s the television you had been seeing on the billboards and ads- Vox in the flesh, priest robes dripping off his frame, one of those little hats somehow attached to his flat head. Even with his eyebrows drawn down in irritation at whoever he was on the phone with, he still has an air of confidence and cockiness about him that you can admire- and you had seen some of the magazines declaring him the hottest in Hell, and know that he has clean lines of lean muscle hiding under those holy folds of fabric. He paces back and forth across the stage a few times, throwing insults and jabs into the phone in his hand, and then he looks up and finally notices you. 
“Oh fuck,” he says, eyes widening in surprise, and then- “not you, Valentino, Satan, fucking narcissist. Someone’s fucking here- yes, in the church- fuck it, no, I gotta deal with this.” And the phone is slipped into one of the pockets of the robe. His whole demeanor changes- his posture straightens, his eyes closing and his face rearranging into something softer, more peaceful as he looks down at you. 
“Welcome, lost lamb,” he says, and you could almost believe him if it weren’t for the glitch that crackles across his screen at the words. “How may I help to guide you today?”
“Um… I’m not totally sure,” you confess, and his eye twitches in irritation. “I saw some ads and I was curious about the idea of a church in Hell. If you can actually get redeemed here then, you know, I’d love to give it a try-“ 
You don’t even get to mention your almost ulterior motive before he fucking laughs at you, the sound echoing with the acoustics of the place. “Fuck, so you’re a real one then? Y’know how many people I’ve had sitting in these pews that don’t give two rats shit about redemption, just wanted to see the fancy new fucking building and watch one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell strut around in this stupid fucking thing?” He plucks at his robes, the fabric fluttering around his body. “And now I've got a real one. Imagine that. Okay!” 
He claps his hands together and a small bench emerges from the floor in front of the stage as he drops to sit on the edge of it, legs hanging off so his feet touch the floor. “Fucking kneel, then,” he says, gesturing to the cushion, “Don’t these things usually start with confession? I don’t have all day if you have like, a million sins to confess.”
“Oh, right.” This part at least you knew, even if it usually took place in a booth and the other person couldn’t see you. You hadn’t really been planning on confessing when you got here, but at least it was an easy part.
You watch him patiently, waiting for the usual blessing, until he stares at you expectantly. “Well?”
Guess you were skipping that, then. “Um, okay. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” He waves a hand at you; a silent ‘get-on-with-it’ if you’ve ever seen one. “It’s been… ten years? Since my last confession-“
“No fucking wonder you ended up down here, doll,” he mutters, head tilted towards the ceiling and not even looking at you, “you were one of those ‘Easter and Christmas’ church-goers, huh? And you thought that would be enough.”
“Hey, fuck you,” you snap, flushing at how easy you were to pin down like that, and his head snaps back down to look at you, an eyebrow raised like he’s fucking bored. “Aren’t you supposed to be here to help?”
“Does it matter? Besides, I’m new to the job; sue me for a learning curve. Come on- what sins are you confessing?” His screen brightens suddenly, a grin directed at you that steals your breath. “Was it something fun? You kill someone?” His eyes go hooded, expression lascivious as he looks down at you. “Impure thoughts, maybe? Impure actions?” His gaze lingers on your skirt before he meets your eyes again.
Your face heats- you’re very aware, suddenly, of the position that you’re in- knelt on the floor in an empty church, the priest as far from saintly as one could get and hot as Hell even with his TV head, his knees spread apart where he sits on the edge of the stage and you essentially between them. Images race lightning quick through your head- pushing his robes up around his thighs, leaning forward with your tongue out to show him just how impure your actions could be-
A bell rings overhead and you’re reminded that you’re in a fucking Church, even if it is one in the center of Hell. You had come here for help, not sex. You shove the thoughts back. “Can you just- be a normal priest, please? With the bible verses and shit so I can feel like this wasn’t a total waste of whatever I signed before coming in here.”
He sighs but seems to acquiesce, placing his palms on the stage and leaning back. “That’s a yes if I’ve ever heard one! Give me one sec…” His screen changes, words and images flying across it at lightning speed while he taps his fingers on the floor under his hands, sometimes slowing on a particular passage, and it occurs to you what he’s doing- he’s searching the fucking internet for a bible passage.
“Ha! This should do-” His face comes back, expression serene, and he leans forward and places a finger under your chin to tilt your head up, closer to him now  than you would have expected. “I know how you feel, my child, tempted by the sins of the flesh,” he says in an exaggerated tone. “‘For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses.” He winks at you with that smirk of his back in place, “but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin.’”
You blush but can’t turn away with his finger on you, keeping you tilted to face him. “‘Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.’ Is that what you’re here for, doll? Mercy?”
Your mouth runs dry, and you can see the way his eyes track the movement of your throat when you swallow. “Y-yes,” you stammer, and your voice is weaker than you would like, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. “Mercy-” 
“In your time of need,” he offers, and when you close your eyes you feel his thumb trace over your cheekbone, his hand warm against your skin. “What do you need? Cause I’ll tell you- all flushed and trembling and sweet on your knees here? I don’t think a bible verse is gonna cut it, babe.”
He almost slides off the stage, dropping to a crouch so he’s level with your face. “Sir-” you try, and his grin is wide and dangerous.
“Father,” he corrects you, and if you weren’t already on your knees you would have fallen to them. “And I believe you still have to confess before we can move on.” He reaches into the pocket of his robes and pulls out something long and dangling- a rosary, you realize, and you can’t stop the flash of heat that rips through you despite the blatant blasphemy of what was happening. “Give me your hands.” And you do, helpless to refuse as he winds the beads around your wrists with the cross dangling between your arms as he finishes. He stands then, using a hand on the beads to pull you from the cushion and guide you forward on your knees when he sits on the edge of the stage again. You’re properly between his legs now, the fabric of his robes almost touching your nose, and he’s holding your bound hands atop one of his knees. 
“This is just to keep you focused,” he says when he sees you watching where he has them restrained in one hand. His other hand pets across your head, a finger briefly touching one of the horns that you had grown upon arrival. “Now then- tell me of your temptations, little lamb, and I’ll give you absolution. I’ll give you the mercy you want.” When he meets your wide eyes again, he winks. “Maybe something else, too.”
“Fuck, I’m- God, okay. Okay. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” You take Vox’s silence as a sign to continue, his hand still gently brushing through your hair, the other keeping a tight grip on the rosary beads. “It’s been ten years since my last confession.”
“Go on, my child,” Vox says, and fuck, it feels wrong that the words of a priest- regardless of how legitimate he was- are making your core clench, a strong jolt of arousal bolting through your body. “What brings you to confession today?”
You try not to tremble as you continue. “I have… behaved immorally in the past. And even now I’m having impure thoughts,” you whisper, and you hear Vox suppress a groan in front of you. “I- I know the Bible says not to fall prey to temptation, but it’s so hard to resist. I can’t stop myself from thinking about it- about what I’ve done. And about you.”
The fingers in your hair are gone, grip tightening on the one holding the rosary. “This is troubling indeed,” he says, like you can’t hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me what you’ve done- what you’ve thought about. What you want now. Be specific.” There’s a soft rustling of fabric before you, a whisper of air across your face as Vox moves. You make an inquisitive noise and he shushes you. “Keep your eyes closed, dear- imagine you confess to the Lord himself. Show him how earnest you are in your devotion.”
You let your face relax, brow going slack and keeping your face tipped up. You can see through your eyelids the shine of the sunlight through the windows, artificial but warming and holy nonetheless. And like this you ‘confess.’ “I’m thinking about you touching me- in s-sinful ways. Your hands on my skin the way that others have touched me. It feels good, I can’t help but want it…” You feel a little ridiculous even with the flush of your cheeks and the need overtaking your body.
“Fuck,” you hear Vox whisper, and there’s another faint sound of movement that you can’t place with your eyes closed. “How did these f-f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘t͖͖̠̬͛h̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́ sinners touch you?” His voice seems to fail him at the thought, a crackle in his vocals that betrays how much he’s invested in the moment.
“Like a harlot,” you say, and you hear a full groan escape him, a tug to the rosary when he leans a bit down towards you. His face is closer now; you can feel his hot breath as it ghosts across your lips when you speak. “They touched my bare skin- sometimes I lie awake at night and trace the path their hands have taken over my body, over my breasts, between my legs. I’ve let them fuck me, bent over tables and spread across beds, and God, I want more.” You let your voice take on a pleading edge. “I want it to be you- please, won’t you help me?”
You let your eyes flutter open, and the sight before you steals your breathe- Vox’s eyes are trained on you, his mouth hanging open with his face screwed up in pleasure as he fists his cock inches from your face, his robes drawn up over his thighs to jerk himself off in time with your confession. When he notices you watching him he smiles, all teeth and dripping saliva, looking more and more like the agent of damnation that he is than the holy man he’s pretending to be. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞t͖͖̠̬͛,” he growls, his vocals once again corrupted and fried when he speaks. “‘No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. G-G̯̯̩̙͆ͣ͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability-’” The last words are accompanied with a harder thrust of his hips, bringing him closer to the edge of the stage, the head of his prick nearly brushing your lips before its covered with his fingers as he continues to stroke. “‘But with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.’”
You know what he’s going for, but… “I think in this instance, ‘enduring it’ would mean not giving in to the temptation,” you murmur, and you let your tongue ghost over his hand when it gets within reach, just able to taste the saltiness of his precum on his fingers. “But I think I’m weak to it, Father- would you forgive me if I can’t resist?”
Static flashes across his screen for a moment. “Fuck,” he pants when he sees that you’ve kept your tongue extended, waiting for him. He loses the haughty, holy edge to his voice as his fingers tighten their grip, less of a stroke now to let the head of his dick tap against your tongue a couple times. “Can’t fuckin’ think straight like this, Satan- how am I supposed to keep this shit up when you look at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like a devout whore praying for a cock in your throat,” he snarls, and releases the hand keeping hold on the rosary to cup your face. You waste no time in bringing your bound hands up under your skirt, shoving your panties to the side with trembling fingers to rub at your clit. The angle is all wrong, but any friction is good friction at this point, and Vox laughs breathlessly at the desperate way that you rock against your hands with your head held in his. “I might not be God but I can answer that fuckin’ prayer if you want.”
The way you shift to get a better angle to slide a finger into yourself brings you closer, your head resting more heavily in his palm, and you can’t resist giving him a wink- “Promise you’ll give me my absolution after?” You let your mouth fall slack, and groan around the length of him as he pushes past your lips, both of his hands abandoning their respective tasks to tangle in the strands of your hair and keep you still.
“I’ll give it to you, doll, I’ll fuckin’ give you a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛.” He guides himself in further, deeper, until the head of his dick is just bumping against the back of your throat, whorish whines escaping the scant space between your lips when he starts to buck his hips, sucking to the best of your ability while you ride your own fingers and try to work your tongue against the solid erection that’s taken up a temporary residence in your mouth. His hands fist in your hair and tug you closer, your nose bumping the sharp lines of his abdomen and the solid weight of his balls resting against your chin with every jerk forward. A particularly hard thrust has your gag reflex triggering, the channel of your throat convulsing and fluttering around the head of his cock while his head throws back with a moan.
Tears prick at your eyes- your orgasm is a distant, intangible thing, the pleasure from your fingers sweet but not even close to what you needed, whimpering and drooling around Vox’s cock in a way that echoed around the beautiful chapel. When you look up at him his eyes are wide and frantic, harsh moans falling from his mouth and rumbling through his body so you could feel it against your nose pressed into his pelvis the way you are. 
A hand slides forward to brush at your tears, a smile more befitting the devil than any kind of priest taking up Vox’s screen, red lines of what could be drool dripping off the sides. “Fuck, gonna cum- you want it, angel? Your a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎b͔͔̳͈̊̆ͥ͂͜͝s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡t͖͖̠̬͛i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥ?” You can’t speak with his cock filling your mouth so fully, so you nod the best you can and grind your hips down onto your fingers, still bound together with the rosary. He chuckles low, once again keeping your head still so he can pound into the wet heat you’ve provided to him, the muscles of your throat clenching down every time he pushes far enough back. “‘Repent and be baptized, e-every one of you-’” he starts, the silky skin of his erection sliding pleasantly over your tongue a final time, then he stills. His cock twitches, and there’s a jet of hot, bitter liquid spilling across your tongue before he pulls out completely. “‘In the name of J̸̡̡̟͑ͭ̄͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧs̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅụ̴̴̾̀͟͡s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅ Ch̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅt͖͖̠̬͛, for the forgiveness of your sins.’” There’s another pulse of cum that lands on your cheek as he pulls back, his thumb coming up to smear it on your skin and then dip into your mouth for you to suck it clean as his cock gives one final twitch, a weak spurt against your lips closed around his thumb. “‘And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit,’” he finishes in his normal voice, that cocky smirk back on his screen when he finally pulls all the way back.
You lick your lips, rid yourself of the remnants of his release that you can reach. “Is that what that was? You don’t look much like the Holy Spirit to me.”
He groans looking down at you, the hand still in your hair petting almost affectionately through the strands. “We make do with what we have in Hell,” he says. His eyes flick down to your lap, where you still have two fingers poorly sunk into your pussy and are rocking back and forth on them. “Don’t worry, doll, you’ll still-”
He freeze, some notice popping up in one of the upper corners of his screen, and he shakes his head and groans as it clears away. “Quiet- someone’s at the door,” he murmurs, and takes his hands off you entirely.
You suppress a groan at the lack of contact,  fingers momentarily stilling and cocking an eyebrow at him. “How can you tell?” There’s no knock resounding through the building, no bells or chimes, and he holds a finger to his lips.
“I get an alert when someone interacts with the AdamAI. Just hold on a sec-”
There’s an audible gasp from the sinner that enters the church, and Vox looks down at you with a wicked smile. “Keep praying, my child,” he says softly, “and we’ll resume our discussion on the matter of your ‘repentance’ soon.” He stands to his full height and with a swish of his robes he’s gone, approaching the newcomer behind you and speaking in hushed tones- you catch something about a ‘private prayer session’ and resist the urge to snort, instead shifting a bit to get your thumb against your clit and rub soft circles. You don’t think you can cum like this but it's nice, sweet little zaps of pleasure that start at your core and echo through your body like the acoustics of the church you kneel in. You bite your lip to keep the sounds from escaping you as they talk, the low timbre of Vox’s voice making your body hum and tingle remembering the way he had moaned and clutched at your hair as he chased his release with your mouth around him.
Fuck, if Sister Lucy could have seen you now she would probably have an aneurysm. But its not her words echoing in your brain right now- it’s Vox’s soft “keep praying” that has your hands unable to stay still, your hips jerking minutely while you reach futilely for the edge of your pleasure, to tumble headfirst into it.
It takes a moment for you to realize that the Church is silent once again, and when you look up- and up and up, your head tilting all the way back like you’re searching for God himself in the rafters- Vox towers over you from behind, his eyes dark and hungry. He drops to his knees, a resounding crack on the floor as he reaches for you, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat to keep your head tilted back, and a low growl rumbles from his chest when he feels you swallow against his palm. “Such a well behaved lamb, to stick to your prays so devotedly in the presence of others,” he whispers, his tongue curling over the shell of your ear, and now that you’re alone there’s no shame in the desperate moan that you let loose- the way he says ‘lamb’ is so sickeningly sweet and exaggerated that you know the word he wants to use is ‘slut.’ “What kind of shepherd would I be if I didn’t give you a reward?”
His other hand comes down to grab the rosary, pulling your fingers from the slick heat of your cunt and bring them to his mouth- his tongue curls around them, the lewd sound of him sucking the juices from your digits right next to your ear, causing heat to pool in your lower stomach. Once he’s satisfied, he hoists you up with his grip on them, spinning you so that you’re facing him and pinning you to the edge of the stage. “Thought the ‘baptism’ was my gift,” you say as he lifts your legs up around his waist, shoving your skirt out of the way and just tearing your panties off your body, exposing you to the cool air of the church. “You should keep your metaphors straight.”
“Come on, I’m fuckin’ trying,” he mutters, pressing his screen to your forehead so you’re breathing in the same air. “Didn’t Jesus say some shit like ‘choose words that bring peace, not conflict’ or something? Take that holy advice, stop poking holes in my sermon, and let me show you Heaven.” He leans in before you can respond to tangle his tongue with yours, and considering where you are and what you’re doing, kissing a television is hardly the weirdest thing to happen to you today. It’s pleasant, even, a light hum of static where your lips meet his, his tongue almost vibrating with concealed electricity as he licks into your mouth like he’s trying to taste his own cum in the back of your throat.
When he pulls back for your answer, you can’t resist the truth- “That was Buddhism,” you deadpan, and laugh when static crackles across his body, a renewed erection pushing into your thigh when he uses your bound hands to lay you flat on the stage. He fumbles with his robes to get them up and around his waist again, and the laughter dies in your throat as the silky smooth head of his cock bumps against your drenched folds.
“You know a lot about religion for someone that seems to only know how to be on her knees for one thing,” he murmurs, and it's both shame and heat that flashes through you at the words while he slides his length back and forth through your wetness, pressing lightly against your clit and retreating, teasing. “Let’s see how long you can keep that up while I’m fucking the thoughts out of that pretty head, hm? Gimme a Bible passage since you know so much, dollface.”
“I don’t have access to the internet in my brain like some people but I’ll do my be- ahhh, fuck-” Vox cuts off your sentence with a solid thrust of his hips, the tip of his prick finally slipping in, and he works it in slowly, letting you adjust to it a few inches at a time until he’s buried to the hilt in your wet cunt and breathing heavily against your neck. “Oh God-”
“Thought taking the Lord’s name in vain was a sin,” he breathes, and licks down the column of your throat. He pulls back a little, the drag of him inside of you a delicious burn before he snaps forward again, punching the air from your lungs. He maneuvers the fingers of the hand still holding the rosary to press the wooden cross into your palms. “Come on, angel, give me something good.”
It’s admittedly hard to think with the way that he pistons into you, hips angled just right to hit that sweet spot inside that you had been missing with your bound hands, his free hand digging bruises into the flesh of your hip. You blurt out the first thing that comes to mind- “‘A-All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for- fuck, for instruction, for conviction, for correction, and for training in right-righteousness,’” you manage through the pleasure that courses through you, and Vox laughs, the action causing his body to shake against you. 
“Something better,” he demands, still drilling his cock into your pussy, hard thrusts that make your vision waver and your breath catch in your throat- how he expects you to talk during that, you weren’t sure, but you would do your damndest as you search your memory for something else.
“Fuck, uhhh… ‘If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with pointing finger… and malicious talk, and if you spend yourself on behalf of the hungry-’” You lose focus on the words you can see behind your eyelids when the hand leaves your hip to press a clawed finger to your swollen clit, a firm circling that has you choking on the words before they can finish leaving your lips. A whimper escapes instead, and Vox’s grin is wide and hungry as he stares down at you.
“‘And satisfy the needs of the oppressed,’” he continues for you, “come on, little lamb, you know the rest.”
“‘Then your light will rise in the darkness, and your light become like the noonday.’” Every muscle is tense, waiting for the thread to snap as Vox continues to fuck into you like a man possessed, his tongue lathing over whatever bits of skin he can reach. You can feel the orgasm crackling like electricity down your spine, unsure if that’s a side effect of Vox’s half-machine body or just how fucking good it feels. Either way, the cusp of release has never felt like this before, like you might pass out from the strength of it, from how all consuming the pleasure is before the peak has even hit.
The pressure against your sweet spots- inside and outside- intensifies suddenly when Vox tilts his hips, pressing down harder and slamming his thick cock against that bundle of nerves inside, the wet sounds of your coupling all that you can hear over your voice and his grunts of effort. “‘The lord will guide you always; he will… s-atisfy your needs in a- in a- oh fuck, God, Vox-”
You want the face he’s making framed in the living room of wherever you end up living in Hell; he could almost be a real priest with the expression of worship that’s taking over his screen, looking down at you like you’re Heaven incarnate. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘, that’s right; cum on my cock, sweetheart, a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧl͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘, fuck-”    
It’s just as all consuming as you expected- even more so as you tip over the edge into blissful ecstasy, every part of your body clenching down, your hands on the beads, your legs around Vox’s waist, your walls around the hard length still pounding away at you. You’re not even a little embarrassed about the echoing of your cries as you cum, the sound bouncing off the walls of the church and coming back to you and Vox, who’s chasing his own release in the tight clench of your pussy. The lewd, wet sounds intensify suddenly, sharply, the evidence of your orgasm drenching the robes bunched around Vox’s thighs. A high pitched noise emits from him, and his screen goes dark when he follows you over the edge, hot pulses of heat into your slick cunt, walls fluttering and spasming and wringing every last drop of cum from him, resting thick and warm inside of you as his head drops down to your chest and the entire building seems to just power down.
You fiddle with the rosary beads in your hands, trying to see if you can get them undone on your own- and yes, there they go, a quick twist of the wrist and they’re sliding along your skin, your wrists sore where they had been digging in this whole time. His grip on the beads had slackened as well, so you pull out of his grasp and let your hands run down his body, properly touching him for the first time- and it was well worth the wait, even through the priest robes. His muscles felt firm to the touch, the skin of his arms soft where his sleeves had ridden up, and the hot air coming off his head when you traced your fingers along the ports and wires on the back of it was oddly pleasant.
“You keep touching me like that,” he mumbles against your chest, and you feel his dick twitch where it’s seated inside you still, “and you can be the one to explain to my business partners why power’s down across Pentagram City.” The building flickers back on slowly, the simulated sunshine once again streaming from the windows as Vox boots back up, a loading screen flashing on his face before it turns back into his eyes and mouth, quirked up at the sides while you run your fingers over his body and head. “Gimme like half an hour and we can go again without blacking out both rings of Pride, maybe.”
You laugh when he pulls out, collapsing in the space next to you, the stupid little hat tumbling off in the process while he adjusts his robes. “‘Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light,’” you quote. “Maybe a power outage will bring more people to the Church, you could play that up on your advertisements- then if we regularly fuck there’s a business aspect.”
His chuckle echoes in the chapel. “Where have you been all my afterlife?” He jokes, and his clawed fingers give yours a squeeze when they come down to your sides. “I know you’re probably half kidding but listen, I could use some of that religious knowledge if Val and Velvette insist on making me do this once a week- the fucking doesn’t always have to be a part of it, but-”
“Listen, if that offer comes with a place to sleep and a hot meal every once in a while I’m down.” You think back to the screen you had signed before coming into the church- “Shit, unless that tablet I signed means I don’t get a say? Guess I should have looked at it a little closer-”
“Oh, that.” He has the decency to look a little ashamed as he pulls something up on his screen, making a note before closing it again. “Sorry, just a contingency- if we didn’t have a way for financially challenged sinners to get here that would severely limit our target market so we added that contract as an option. Technically your soul is now owned three ways by the Vees as a whole until terms are settled, but we’ll renegotiate, figure something else out.”
“‘Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back,’” you quote at him- “you help me out and I’ll help you.”
“Deal.” He stands and pulls you up with him, and you place the hat back onto his head- it snaps into place with a soft click that you laugh at- “Magnets, babe, I work with what I have”- while he leads you to the back of the church to clean up and talk about where you would be going from here.
Bonus
You’re laying reclined on Vox’s living room couch a few days later, wearing one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he pours a couple drinks for you. All things considered, going to the church that day had worked out well. You weren’t ‘dating’ Vox, but he was keeping you off the street, fed, and fucked, so you didn’t have much room to complain. Every once in a while you would go over some common Bible passages with him, try to play out a full confession so he could see how it was actually supposed to go to try and help with the church thing, but because of how you met you could hardly get out “forgive me, Father” before Vox was hard and pulling at your clothes.
He’s bitching about it now as he mixes things in glasses at the kitchen counter when his apartment door flies open and Velvette strolls in. “Vox, babe, the fuck are you doin’ at that fuckin’ church? Your ratings are absolute shite compared to the stand-ins we have and that should not be the fuckin’ case.”
He immediately jumps on the defensive. “Imagine that- maybe its because I’m not a real fucking priest? God forbid it take me a fucking minute to learn the shit.”
You pipe up from the couch, tipping your head back over the arm to look at Vox and Velvette upside down. “A good start would be not taking the Lord’s name in vain.”
“Traitor,” he hisses at you, and the demoness doubles over in laughter when static sparks between his antennae as he whips in your direction. “And you’re one to fucking talk- remind me how we met again?”
“You sure you wanna do that while your friend is here, Vox? I can live with the blasphemy of fucking in a church but I draw the line at full blown exhibitionism.” Velvette wipes a tear from her eyes while Vox’s screen tints pink. “And besides- we’re working on it, aren’t we, Father?”
Velvette’s irritated grumbling is ignored as Vox pushes her back out the door and approaches you on the couch, curling his claws into your hair, coaxing you to your knees for another confession.
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